Timeless Art in Room Forty-Eight

Timeless Art in Room Forty-Eight from Boijon Media on Vimeo.

Here we have Benjamin Magrdichian covering the walls and ceiling of his room with an overly-stimulated collage of art. The hope was to create an environment conducive to creativity, a place where one isn't so much entering a room as they are diving into a visual world that provokes thought and imagination.

This is the unexpected culmination of an 8 year project that started in August 2005.
Filmed and performed by Benjamin Magrdichian

This time-lapse is enhanced by "Timeless," another beautiful composition by Gianni Abbott. The piece was originally produced for a theater company in Portland, with lyrics based on "La Belle et la Bête," which was the original French novella that told the story of the Beauty and the Beast. Vocal performances by Sadia Ali and Jude Graves.

This ongoing venture was finished on March 12, 2013 and the art has since been removed.
Download the Soundtrack on Soundcloud – http://snd.sc/1cHqHyL


Dear Mr. Ligongo, I’m sorry.
I don’t know how to tell you this, but here it goes: I’m a tranny.
Post-op, performed by Satan,
Disguised as vitamin D, vehicular sun rays,
Into my star-belly he slipped, opioid rodent into hormonal tansu.
Me was absent, absorbed in your gift, (the feline yantra).
Now my sex = Manhood’s dregs, natron.
Once again, I’m sorry I hid the truth from you and the rest of the Yao
So I could try out my new vagina…I know, that’s fucking nasty!
If your love is unconditional, find me at Hollywood United Methodist Church—I’ve joined the nuns.
Your ex-lover, Santa

The Pocketed Napkin of An Exploding Star

The Pocketed Napkin of an Exploding Star


I’m not reckless

I’ve wrecked four cars

driving home from

the floors of closed bars.

I’m unafraid, I’m afraid,

as long as I live to see

another day of getting paid.

but every mistake I make

gets put up on the fuckin’ TV

every intimate detail

under microscope scrutiny

and people wonder why I say


Untitled No. 18

this ain’t no contract for all the autodidacts

this ain’t no country club

it’s the last dance

only chance to make time

fade the fuck away

into the ashtrays,

buy a coke, a six-pack and nicotine of some kind,

and wash yourself knowing

just as you pay

it’s just a liars last dream with truth in mind

holding ice in my hand

waiting for the whiskey,


hand me my medicines, man.

I can’t stay waiting for the policeman,

all the things that he can


and stay true

to his badge,

and his zoo.


so they say my breath smells like whiskey

but my breath doesn’t drink, I do.

I’m just rhyming consistently,

doesn’t mean anything

alright, maybe it does occasionally.





An Exercise In Perspective

The reason I chose St. Anthony’s was because it was too sleazy for any pig to patrol.  Plus, even if they had it in mind, their squad car could only be parked in the alley out back.  I knew it’d be easy.  I done small jobs here and small jobs there, but with Jimmy about to cut my throat over 5 grand, I knew I needed somethin bit bigger.  So I chose St. Anthony’s, because it was to be so expected that no one would guess.  That schmuck that runs it has no clue either.  Doesn’t even have the mind to know what his shit is worth.

I’d stopped by there once before.  My girl wanted something to flash around in front of her ladies, so I figured I’d get a necklace – so long as it was cheap.  I hustled the sucker, convinced his ass to sell that shit half price.  Shit, so I knew it was the place to go.  The guy was a moron, but I knew he had enough mind to keep a loaded gun in the place.  So I rolled in with my .45, but with no intention of bloodying up those walls.  Just for protection, you know?  In case shit got uglier than it was supposed to.

So I stroll in and the old fool’s doing a crossword, and I think shit, I got this made.  And he’s got this smile, like this is the best shit he’s ever done.  Didn’t even look up when I walked in.  So I start strolling around, you know, looking half interested and shit, not attracting attention.  And this guy only looks up once.  The whole time.  Shit!  I walked out 2 minutes later with this ring, a 4 karat, right on my fucking hand!  I walk down to the pawnshop a block away, and sell that shit right then and there.  The little fucker tried to give me less than that shit was worth.  But I got him up to where it was supposed to be.  Easiest money I ever made.


Started like a normal day.  Washed some punk’s puke off the sidewalk before I could even unlock the place.  I looked at the crumbling bricks seasoned in graffiti and prepared myself for another day.  And it was just another day, though it coulda been different if I had tried to be the big man.  Put up the open sign and just sat, waiting for a con.  You know, if I had just stuck to the right hustles, it woulda been different.  Never shoulda learned to bet on those horses.  And I’d never have met the whiskey if I hadn’t lost so much on those damned tracks.  Coulda got out of this shit hole.  The only good thing about the jewelry shop was the profits.  People don’t know nothing about jewelry.  They know as much as I know bout the horses.

This tough looking thug walks in about 9 o’clock, and I think, this hood aint buying jewelry at this hour.  I seen him before too.  Sold him a necklace for two bills and it wasn’t worth ten bucks.  Put a smile on my face, remembering that easy money.  This time, he wasn’t buying nothing.  Thieves, they all got the same tell.  They stand there looking at a piece, but they’re not looking at it.  They’re looking through it.

He thought he was smooth.  Picked up two rings, put em on the same hand, then only took one em off.  I’da said something – made him pay, but he had a gun.  Got a bookie after me, so I been keeping the gun at home, for protection.  So I was sitting there like some chump, figuring out what to do.  So I decided not to be a hero today, cause the hero always dies at the end, you know?  I asked myself, your life worth risking over that 5 dollar ring?  Probably isn’t, but at the time it felt like it.  Plus, I’d already swindled him for two hundred.


Twisted Game.

This twisted game,
has no rules,
no guides,
no cause in life.

It leaves you hanging out to dry,
It could change you overtime
Creating other lives,

It will hurt you and leave you up to dry,

Sure a game or two
is fine,

Don’t think much of it there is no time,
You’ll be stuck in it the second time,
Oblivious of your time
The game will never leave you-in your time,
It will hold you ripping your mind,
Thinking, Wishing, Dreaming through your time
Oblivious of your time

Thinking, Thinking, Thinking, your losing time,
Thoughts consume you in your body and mind,
Holding you, twisting you, playing you over time,
No rules, no guides, no more time.