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"Love water, rocks, dirt and moss. Love the smell of
sawdust, low tide and burning wood. Consider myself well
rounded..."
More about Brent
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Schools (Other):
Virginia Commonwealth University, the Ohio State University
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Occupation:
Construction
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Hobbies and Interests:
Hhiking, camping, biking, sculpture, travel, urban development, politics
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Favorite Books:
Child of God, God's Little Acre, Still Life With Woodpecker, Becoming a Man, The Bluest Eye, Crash, As Meat Loves Salt, Bass Pro Shops catalog
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Favorite Movies:
Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf, Joe Dirt, Tigerland, Freeway, The Color Purple, all Mike Leigh films, Angel At My Table
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Favorite Music:
Sparklehorse, Grandaddy, Drive-By Truckers, Hank Williams III, Dolly Pardon, Townes Van Zandt, The Decemberists, Skynard, Elbow, Doves, (smog), Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, Ima Robot, Eagles of Death Metal, Kings of Leon
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Favorite TV Shows:
South Park, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Sopranos, Deadwood, Frontline, Reno 911
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About Me:
Love water, rocks, dirt and moss. Love the smell of
sawdust, low tide and burning wood. Consider myself well
rounded and a realist. I don't feed into nor do I reward
drama. Not impressed by material wealth or social status.
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Who I Want to Meet:
Fellow travelers on the path of least resistance. Seriously, overachievers and the self-righteous bring out the worst in me. .
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words of wisdom, like la la la la la la
la la la.
reproductions of Eighteenth Century Americana into
his pieces, or make objects that look like that came
from sme alternate version of history- with tassles.
I'll never forget lying in his bed that summer -it was
so hot that we couldn't stand to touch each other.
We were sweatsoaked, I was drunk with desire
looking at him all glazed over and shiny, blown
away by every word while he read exerpts from
"Crash".
I can still see him leaning against the wall, both of
us on the little metal single bed, him in nothing but
his baggy underwear and with the Legendary Pink
dots scratching away on his turntable.
It is still one of my most erotic memories.
Sculpture dept, with Brent. In high school, he
and I would go to the Yorktown Battlefields
to mope around and kick things, as a way for
him to avoid the numerous Swedish
exchange students that always seemed to
populate his house. Why did his family take
on so many exchange students? Brent
made fun of them to their faces, but his wit
was so dry and their English so bad that
they never knew. Brent always seemed to
have a love/hate passive/aggressive
relationship with preppies, theme parks,
Wendy's, and the Carmadillo that he had to
wrestle onto the Impala every night. I never
got over his telling me I danced like Snoopy
at the Echo and the Bunnymen concert.
Brent made great art in college; he really
knew how to build something then beat the
shit out of it with a grinder so it looked like
he had just dredged it up from some mine.
We all wanted to copy him but didn't dare.
I'm glad he's still cool.