New York, you so pricey

On the corner of 2nd avenue there's a building that looks like it could collapse or implode any moment from some crazy NYC combo of neglect, shoddy renovations, and the passage of time. It's had the whimsical "Store 4 Rent/Call Crazy Landlord" sign up for ages now, even long before The Economic Troubles took hold and "For Rent" signs became such a common sight around town.



Way back in the day, I loved this particular stretch of 2nd avenue, from around 4th street down to Houston, because it was so deserted and had some kind of je nous se qua je ne sais quoi. I remember taking an achievement test in high school at La Salle on the corner of 2nd street, or going to Everybody's between 1st and 2nd street, and thinking, damn. I like this empty street thing. Everybody's was an arty hole-in-the-wall kind of restaurant that was as fascinating as any foreign country to me because my sisters had had such elder-sister fun there, meeting friends for brunch after their late-night clubbing shenanigans.


Of course you can't!

Alas, Everybody's is long gone. The narrow space it occupied is now either part of Urge, a scary looking club, or a karaoke bar (I haven't looked too closely). First street, which used to be weed-strewn and rat infested, has a spanking-new building on each side of the street now, including an alley that aspires to be a tourist-y shopping destination.

It ain't the same, I tell ya! And I know, it may be true that New York wouldn't be NY if it didn't change rapidly every five seconds. But I also think it's true NY wouldn't be what it is if some things didn't stay eggz-actly the same. In that sense, I'm glad the Mars bar is still stankin' up the corner of 1st street. You'd have to give me many stacks of bills to sit at its sticky bar, order one of its unquestionably unsanitary beverages, and weather its straight-out-of-the-nuthouse vibe from its clientele. But at least that environment is more interesting than humongous, glassy walls of unaffordable apartments. It might not smell as good, but it's certainly more inspired.

I guess I'm turning into kind of a grouchy New Yorker.

More 20-minute drawings

Last week the drawing group met in Brooklyn.

I like this one of Margrit a lot, but I think I focused on her neck for a little too long and then, with not enough of an observant eye. But that's the funny thing about having only 20 minutes to draw; you both have a luxurious amount of time and no time at all. Get a friend to freeze in their tracks for 20 minutes and draw them, and you'll see what I mean!


Margrit

I got equally absorbed by Erin's hair and haircut.


Erin

Last night I decided not to go to the group, and instead stayed in to work on a pair of corduroys. They're dark blue with dark green piping on the pockets. This is the fourth time I've sewed using this pants pattern (also below) and yet it's the first time I've actually taken the time to fit them properly.

I've never made a pair with that rectangular side pocket. Evidently I am not one for rectangular side pockets.

Yes, that's why I've been walking funny and wearing unusually long shirts whenever you've noticed me wearing cords. But when I'm done with this current pair, you know I'm going to start rocking the tube tops to show off the super cool piped pockets. So get ready for that.

Hooray for time-lapse video

"Over the course of 2009, Norwegian Eirik Solheim recorded brief 30-second video clips every week of the view from his balcony in Oslo. The result of all this archiving is an amazing time-lapse video that synthesizes the entire year into a 120 seconds. You can learn all about his techniques on his website."


Thanks, Emma!

Two presents

I know: Christmas is over. Over! But I'm sorry, I can't say toodle-oo, St. Nick, until I tell you about a couple gifts I'm still strutting around, patting myself on the back over happy I got for my brother Wolf.



1. I spotted the spine of this old book on P's dad's bookshelf, and knew I had to obtain a similar copy to bestow upon my sibling. A book about the Wolfman by the Wolfman for the Wolfman. But of course.

I didn't expect him to be interested in reading it, I simply thought it imperative the spine be amongst his many shelved books. (New York's Forgotten Substations: The Power Behind the Subways by Christopher Payne, One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, The Wolfman by The Wolfman, etc.) But crack it he has.



2. A set of towels for his glorious new digs inscribed "Flowism." Flow is Wolf spelled backwards.

Yesssss.

They say it's your birthday...it's his birthday too, yeah

It's my (adorable, super smart, hilarious, handsome, and did I say funny?) nephew Henry's birthday today, and it has never escaped me that January 8th is also the (immensely talented, handsome, mercurial, hopelessly in love with that beanpole Iman) Thin White Duke's birthday, too.


Arrested with his buddy Iggy Pop in 1976 for pot possession

How many people can pull off looking foxy, not to mention cool and collected, in their mug shot? Sigh. It's also surprising he was busted for something as tame as weed possession, considering all the other crazy drugs he was ingesting around this time. Anyway.

Back to Henry.



I threw a finger puppet in with his presents for Xmas. Here it is on my postal scale before I shipped him off to yonder islands. Will you look at this guy? Holy zombies!



But Henry's reaction was a little.... Well, I think it's best expressed by his expression in this photo, taken last weekend when he was on a hike with his buddy Ronan.

Whassamatta kid, you put off by a loose eyeball, an exposed brain, and some dripping brain goop? Well...OK. Sorry, Henry. If I send you another such object, I will make sure its head is intact and both peepers are safely in their sockets.

In the meantime, Happy Birthday! I hope you have a lot of fun and get the loot you desire today!

Buon anno nuovo!

I was surprisingly not my hermit-y self this year and went out with P. This resulted in me wearing stoopid glasses and drinking champagne out of a can. Man! I guess I asked for it!

It turns out P is way more of a slave to New Years than I realized. Who knew! Being out on the town with him meant tolerating his constant Treo-checking for new texts and jumpy "time to bounce" attitude in the hopes of hitting every place on his list. Fortunately there's also been an epicurean side to this: he insisted we eat Japanese dumplings and today he made some de-freakin-licious Hopping John (black-eyed peas, collard greens, rice, and other savory yumminess) and black-eyed pea fritters (YUM) and this morning he made fried eggs, which are apparently a symbol of rebirth. So it's going to be a really lucky, born anew kind of year, my people. Look out!