oh snap

For the glove of it

2012-01-24T09:54:00.008-05:00

Why do I keep feeling compelled to make weird animal dolls for children? When my sister told me my niece and nephew were going through a stuffed-animal-loving phase, I grabbed this book, a couple pairs of gloves, and before I'd even really given it much thought, these two weirdos were having a chat on my couch.

I kept thinking of the Bolivian women who hand-knit these alpaca gloves for a living wage as I snipped off the fingers and turned them into legs, arms, and ears.

I think the buttons for eyes are the clincher here. It's interesting how important eyes are, on dolls, illustrations, humans, etc. A thing really comes to life with the right kind of eyeball.

It was kind of hard to pack them up and ship them off. But I knew if they stuck around Beatrix would eventually find and eat them one night while I was sleeping.

Spared!

The story doesn't end here. P is going on a trip this week to see this little devil:

Whom you may remember from one of several posts like this. Once again, the book came out, the gloves came off.

And turned into him. I like his stretchy pants.

So, in other words, if you have a pair of gloves, especially ones you like very much, you might not want to wave them around when you see me. Or, conversely, if you want one of these, hand 'em over.

My two new favorite works of art

2011-11-28T20:06:00.005-05:00

In no particular order (I love them both equally!):

Hazy was suddenly inspired to draw this one day, apparently, and I consider myself incredibly lucky to be the recipient of such an ambitious and optimistic world view. Note: The dog is not only walking his human on a beautiful day, on a planet where the sun wears sunglasses (of course!), he is also simultaneously reading the paper and enjoying a hot cup of joe while he's at it. Impressive.

Yes, I asked Henry and Hazy to draw self-portraits again. How can I resist, when I'm sure to get results like this? Henry is indeed at the age where a wry smile is where it's at. Man. I miss those guys so much already, and they only left yesterday!

Happy Halloween

2011-10-31T16:17:00.004-04:00

Photo: Bob Gruen

I love this photo so much. Mainly because this is the corner of 23rd street and 8th avenue back in the day when what's currently a BBQ was a bank, the ad in the background on the building that's only really appropriate for a pack of smokes was a pack of smokes, and diagonally across from where the awesome band for whom every day was Halloween is standing there was the bowling alley where I won a second-place trophy in 5th grade (I was playing against a bunch of chimpanzees, I'm sure) and the Lamston's where I bought my first Maybelline eyeliner pencil, etc., etc., stood.

But perhaps most of all, look at how Gene Simmons is dressed. Not only do I have clogs almost exactly like that, I would wear his whole dang outfit in a snap. Homey looks sharp!

Halloween anticipation

2011-10-28T18:02:00.004-04:00

This year you get a preview of what my sister has cooking. It's gonna be bananas.

The ol' switcheroo

2011-10-19T09:00:00.004-04:00

Here's yet another impossible-not-to-love photography project. Canadian artist Hana Pesut photographs (mostly) straight couples, then has them switch their outfits and takes another picture.

Go here to see more.

Blog infidelity

2011-10-18T12:18:00.013-04:00

I wrote a post for MoMA's blog Inside/Out last week.

Ger Van Elk's version of Paul Klee's Around the Fish

I'm sorry oh snap! I still love you as a form of self-indulgence and communication! (And yeah, I know, most of you already heard about this from my post on the social network that shall not be named and other blathering. Apologies for the repetition repetition.)

A big bottle

2011-09-16T08:38:00.006-04:00

Can I hear it for public art in New York City? So many messed up things are happening in our fair city: overzealous budget cuts, deranged architecture decisions (farewell, Donnell Library—one of many current "oof" moments in NYC's rapidly changing skyline), squirrel and rat standoffs, etc.—sometimes the only thing that can placate a grouchy urbanite is stumbling across a big, fascinating bottle in a public park.

And when I say big, I mean it. Maybe it's not as sizable as this summer's big, crazy public-art head in Madison Park, but it's still impressive. I ran by it a bunch of times, intending to take a closer look one day.

Then recently, at dusk, I noticed the lights on and went over to check it out. I was really surprised when I looked through one of the portholes. It looks like the perfect apartment for a robot.

Here's a better (but undownloadable) pic of the inside. Can't you easily imagine a friendly little machine toodling around in there, checking his or her email on their smart phone, or washing their hands before dinner?

As I went on my excessively sweaty way, I thought about another perfect resident. I read this article awhile ago about a Seattle program for homeless alcoholics. It provides repeat offenders with government-funded housing where sobriety isn't enforced; an experiment started to stop the endless (and expensive to taxpayers) jail/rehab/emergency room cycle. Of course it turned out to be a big money saver. So wouldn't it be cool if NYC had a bunch of these, say about a million trillion, all piled on top of one another? Maybe entering and leaving a bottle every day would create a "What the hell am I doing with my life?" kind of revelation/new perspective and break the cycle for tons of drunk people! Also, the interiors seem perfect for the rapid and easy cleanup of vomit and other unfortunate accidents. Sorry, gross but true.

This idea was apparently very energizing, as I ended up having a great run that night.

The inside of the bottle is actually, according to artist Malcolm Cochran, a representation of the stateroom in the Queen Mary ocean liner.

Nice.

The 80s were a powerful time in music

2011-09-12T21:04:00.007-04:00

Thanks, Rodriguez

2011-08-18T18:14:00.006-04:00

Sure, you pretty much know in advance of your click on "play" that you'll laugh, this does involve Cookie Monster, after all (and if the iconic blue, cookie-loving puppet does not amuse you, you are a very hard case, indeed), but this video struck me as particularly genius. Enjoy!

A roundup of almosts and could've beens

2011-08-10T21:01:00.004-04:00

I haven't been posting as much this summer, dear readers, mostly because I keep coming across stuff I get excited about and want to share with you, but then five minutes later I'll decide "Nah." I seem to be quite the tough critic lately. (I know. Lately? How about always and forever?)

Like this dresser I noticed in one of Todd Selby's emails about someone's groovy house he recently photographed somewhere.

OK, I just looked it up and it's "Karen and Avril at home in Auckland, New Zealand." Actually, it's very worth clicking through if only to see the weirdly great duvet cover these two made out of old brassieres and girdles. I was also captivated by the photo of Avril and the little city she's working on, probably because it reminded me of the miniature cities my brother I used bang together down in our basement when we were kids. Ours weren't half as fragile and carefully done as Avril's, I'll tell ya that much.

OK, moving on.

I was also going to post about this artist's project of photographing runners after running, and then again, normally dressed.

And about these "brilliantly sarcastic responses to completely well meaning signs."

But I just couldn't get it together to get them up here until now. Finally! Done!

Debauchery recap

2011-07-28T11:52:00.023-04:00

For the third year in a row, I tagged along with P as he attended a cocktail convention in New Orleans. No, I didn't go to the "History and Importance of Ice in Cocktails" seminar as yes, I was more inclined to find myself suddenly surrounded by a promotional rum event and given a free pair of sunglasses, personal water mister and manicure when I'd just been hanging out by the hotel pool reading a book ... but I did learn a few things anyway.

I don't like Negronis. Not even when the gin and Campari are correctly balanced. Speaking of gin, my hotel key card:

Poor, exhausted phrase!

We arrived at the Hotel Monteleone as the street in front of it was being set up for "the world's largest" Genever Kopstootje toast (the Genever Kopstootje [pron. kop-stow-tjuh] is translated as "little head butt" and represents the traditional Dutch version of a beer and a shot) to kick off the convention. Normally an event like this would cause me to drop my bags, roll up my sleeves, and jockey for a space.

Photo courtesy of David Grunfeld, The Times-Picayune

But it was something like 9am. And as I found out later, they were toasting with light beers. Light bottled beers. I'm glad I took a nap instead.

A couple days later, Ricard turned the same street into a Pétanque court (similar to Bocce ball) to get everyone excited about that lovely anise-flavored liqueur.

Photo courtesy of Crave

But I'm getting ahead of myself. That first night, we went to a huge party at the World War II museum, wherein scores of well-known bartenders dressed in wartime garb were mixing drinks and handing them out to anyone with a free hand.

Outside, in front of the museum, there were two charismatic goats and a hardworking cow hired by Hendrick's gin to supply milk for almost-impossible-to-make-fast Ramos gin fizzes. P and I were psyched to see the animals, but they turned out to be a bittersweet sight to behold. Looked after by their attentive (and I'm pretty sure, sober) handlers, and certainly up to the challenge, they looked sad anyway, like they just wanted to get the heck out of there. Who could blame 'em. I'm sure parties thrown by goats and cows are much different.

I was also distracted by the weirdness of so much boozy socializing under dive bombers and in front of huge war photographs and memorabilia. P reminded me the end of World War II was a joyous occasion, and how museums are often chosen for huge parties and of course get paid for it, and yeah, yeah, yeah, OK.

But I mean, come on.

I know: It's not very New Orleansian to think too penetratingly about anything in the midst of a party, especially one with free drinks and free oysters and free sailor hats and other liquor company swag.

Oh, the swag!

What can I say. My skepticism follows me everywhere.

New Orleans is a fascinating and beautiful place, and I'm lucky to have the chance to get to know it a little better each year.

Where else could Walgreens be

?

Read about last year's trip here and the year before here.

It's about. freakin. time!

2011-06-25T02:58:00.002-04:00

Can I see your license and registration

2011-06-06T19:46:00.012-04:00

Hazel told Brook "I look like Auntie Jocelyn with these sunglasses, take a picture and send it to her!" today. So Brook did. Thanks, B!

Apparently, I look like a highway patrolman.

Now I know why I was so drawn to this whistle at Kiosk recently. I should've bought one. Or two, so the next time I see Hazy we can go out and scribble us up some speeding tickets!

Goodnight sweet Bizzy

2011-05-31T12:08:00.006-04:00

The green-grape obsessed, tennis-ball-loving, determined and obstinate burrower under beds Bizmark gave up the ghost on Sunday. The central air conditioning vent in the floor of the kitchen won't be the same without his long furry snout upon it. Rest in peace, Biz. We're all going to miss you so much, and already do!

Read more about this beloved canine here.

Another great photography project

2011-05-27T12:11:00.010-04:00

Photographer Yeondoo Jung did a series in 2005 called "Wonderland," where he made photographs of children's drawings.

Why doesn't everyone do this everywhere, all the time?!

You can see more here.

(And when I say "another great photography project," I'm thinking of Irina Werning's series Back to the Future, the recreated childhood photos I posted about in February. It will be a very, very long time before I recover from the crazy brilliance of her idea and its execution. If in fact I ever do.)

The power of hyphenation

2011-05-08T22:49:00.003-04:00

Stretch...now hold it

2011-05-01T14:42:00.004-04:00

Ever since I got that book...

The birds

2011-04-19T13:20:00.009-04:00

Here's a chaser to my previous post, which could be viewed as kind of a downer.

Fancy pigeons!

These are just some of the esteemed winners of the National Pigeon Association's 2010 championship. In other words, those grubby gray flying animals we city dwellers live with have some very impressive relatives.

Frank gave me the book Extraordinary Chickens a few years ago; could Extraordinary Pigeons be next?

Yes, yes, by all means, yes.

Not that I'm a believer in these my-bird-is-better-than-your-bird contests.

My favorite bird of all time is Cocky Bennett. I xeroxed these pages out of a book I found in the Beverly Hills Library lo, so many years ago.

I didn't write down any information about the book and unfortunately the internet doesn't seem to have caught up with Cocky's fame and importance. But go ahead and read page 116...you'll get the idea.

Everything is

2011-04-15T15:44:00.007-04:00

Well, except for the super cool Wrong! pin I stumbled on, on ebay.

And the candle Dao gave me this week, that I will never, ever burn.

But man. Sometimes I just gotta tell it like it is.

Was she leading them back to the arctic?

2011-04-11T02:08:00.006-04:00

I hope so. (And of course, I wish I'd been in her shoes!)

Why not

2011-04-09T02:06:00.002-04:00

Homeless stylin'

2011-03-27T23:18:00.018-04:00

I came across this article about a recent contest in the current issue of Threads magazine. The challenge was to take this pattern and "take it to extremes," and below is one of the winner's responses.

It's a very clever and successful solution. Maybe it's just the magazine's presentation of it that I find so bizarre and funny.

The smiling, copper-haired model showing us what to sew for ourselves (or have our mom sew for us) if we're homeless...the coat can be rolled up and worn as a backpack during the day when you're panhandling, or unrolled and turned into a sleeping bag at night. There are even pockets in the coat you can put newspapers and books in, for extra warmth on those freezing-cold nights when you curl up outside instead of at a homeless shelter (because you've had such unfortunate episodes at homeless shelters).

What you can do with felt

2011-03-07T19:01:00.007-05:00

A couple years ago there was a great show in the windows on Broadway and 10th street that made my sneakers SCREE-EE-TCH to a stop as I walked by.

I thought I'd lost the cell phone pics I took of the exhibit when I recently traded in my phone. "Oh my god! What if I never see those crazy felt heads on bloody sticks again?" I was so relieved when I was able to retrieve them.

Look at that eyeball! It reminds me of the finger puppet I got for my nephew last year.

It was a ridiculous thing to worry about because in this modern era, what information is ever lost? All I had to do was type "felt heads impaled on posts" into you know, that search engine, to find info about the show and the artist, Adam Parker Smith. And tons of images of his work.

IT'S SUCH AMAZING STUFF!

WHAT'S GOING ON WITH THESE POOR, UNFORTUNATE FELT PEOPLE?

Even when they seem to be OK...they don't seem that OK.

Adam Parker Smith, I salute you. Even though I was kind of disappointed to find out that you're not a woman.

The beautiful music Ikea inspires

2011-02-19T19:01:00.006-05:00

If you've ever had a hard time putting together an item from a certain Swedish company, as I did recently, and then finally had success to some degree but are pretty certain you're going to wake up to a pile of particle board on your bathroom floor someday soon anyway, you'll enjoy this video.

It's pretty fun for everyone else, too.

Changed much?

2011-02-17T22:15:00.002-05:00

Only the vunderful and vantastic Lee Ann (no, she doesn't have a funny accent, I just velt like adding the veez) could wake me from my blogging slumber by bringing this incredible project to my attention.

Argentinian photographer Irina Werning is recreating people's childhood photos with pictures of them today in the same or similar outfits, locations, and positions. Whaaaat?! She writes that this effort has made her realize she's a bit obsessive, so I guess it takes as much organization and attention to detail to set up these shots as I imagine they do. Bonkers. Click here to see them all. Thanks, Westover.

My proudest achievement

2011-01-14T17:29:00.003-05:00

As opposed to the bacward roll.

La Nana

2011-01-08T19:34:00.005-05:00

This is an excellent movie. It kind of knocked me out.

It's smart, funny, fascinating, moving, multi-layered, a brilliant character study.... I mean, part of my excitement over this, I'm sure, has to do with being shocked and relieved it's not the formulaic, simplistic piece of crap I kind of expect recently made movies to be these days. See it if you're interested, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

2010-12-28T00:29:00.006-05:00

Instant holiday de-stressor

2010-12-19T11:39:00.001-05:00

Another pastel

2010-12-15T14:38:00.005-05:00

Here's Adam, who was trying hard not to fall asleep while he sat for us. He'd been posing for different artists since 9:30 in the morning and had been up most of the night before with his 3-year-old, watching the first snow and playing with dinosaurs. So the intensity you see above is him saying to himself, "Must. Keep. Eyes. Open!"

Blue

2010-12-09T19:13:00.010-05:00

I've been sitting in on a pastel class at the National Arts Club lately. Pastels? What? I know, that's what I said to myself, too, but there was an opening in a class and an invitation and in the midst of the strange trip the last six months of 2010 have been for me, saying yes was the path of least resistance. Yes to chalky, hard-to-control pastels! Why not! And the surprise is, they're fun. You get to make a big mess. The colors are all very intense and don't only offer up sherbet-y pinks, blues, and greens. It's also the closest thing to painting without using paint, and that's really weird...and fun.

This is Tania, the woman who sat for us on Tuesday night. Tania was awesome. She sat very still for three hours (with a few breaks, of course) and then disappeared downstairs, to the second floor, where there's always some kind of party going on (last week it was a big to-do for Jules Feiffer). She started playing incredibly intense music on the grand piano near the bar down there; it turned out, she's a kick-ass pianist. "Of course," she said, when some of my fellow students expressed surprise. That's what I thought, too, after I listened to her play for awhile: "Of course."

What's your name again?

2010-11-21T22:02:00.002-05:00

NYC rite of passage

2010-11-16T12:58:00.005-05:00

Staring out the window of a subway's last car and watching the station you just left disappear from sight.

Teamwork

2010-11-06T11:24:00.004-04:00

When Henry's friends heard he was going to be an exclamation point this year for Halloween, they decided to be the letters B, O and O, so they could all spell out

Seeing double

2010-11-04T11:31:00.008-04:00

Early this week I sat a couple times for the talented painter and all-around great guy Mark Milroy, who'd asked if I'd like to have my portrait painted. "WHY, YES!" I replied. But then I faced the conundrum of deciding what to wear. I finally chose my crazy, old Marimekko t-shirt, which I thought could easily stand up to posterity and would also be fun for Mark to paint.

I'll post a picture of the finished portrait when it's done.

The post that almost got away

2010-10-25T12:03:00.011-04:00

I went to LA at the very end of the summer to visit Frank and almost forgot to post about it. O. M. G.

When you get to Frank and Patrick's radically cool house-on-stilts in Eagle Rock, it's hard to focus on just one of the many compelling things they have in this corner or on that shelf or up on that wall.

We were only there for a few days, and then Frank and I drove out to Susan's house in Palm Springs. We stopped at a supermarket on the way for supplies and came across this rather fine bottle of wine.

Don't overlook that Ralph's sticker or the "discontinued" label below it.

Frank couldn't wait to show off some of the many pool tricks he's taught himself, such as being able to stand on a noodle in deep water.

I can't remember exactly why Paul McCartney's stage preamble before performing this summer at Coachella annoyed him so much, but here he is saying "F*** you [Paul McCartney]!" about it.

I was also enamored of this crazy made-out-of-a-car-muffler bird that was behind the house. He stands there under the hot (HOT) sun every day.

You can see him through the house when you're out hanging out around the pool. See the red arrow?

We also spent a day out in Joshua Tree, visiting some of Frank's desert-loving friends. I used to think Joshua Tree was a single tree in a Sahara-like expanse of desert that people would drive long distances to see. I think I was getting it confused with Burning Man. Duh.

I'm standing next to one of the best swimming pools ever: a dark, cool, non-chlorinated pool of water in a huge recycled canister of some sort. THAT'S how you work it out in the desert.

When I got home, Olive was like, "Wow, tell me all about your tr-zzzzzzz."

Aw. It's sad summer is so long gone!

The Snake House is open

2010-09-26T17:56:00.015-04:00

Phew, finally! I opened my Etsy shop today.

P had the great idea last weekend to photograph the snakes outside, so on Sunday afternoon we found ourselves in the Liz Christy garden on Houston street, peacefully conducting our business amongst the lovely greenery while cars screeched and honked hysterically just feet away on the other side of the gate.

Snakes love attention.

I included the mice in the indoor photo shoot, figuring that if I ever actually do get a buyer, they'll want to know what that rattling mouse-shaped thing in the tail looks like.

I didn't notice the one that toppled over.

I'm a lousy photographer. I can take amusing pictures sometimes, sure, but this experience made me realize how tricky it can be to photograph something. It's all about controlling the light! And understanding your camera! I'm not good at either!

If I'd really thought ahead I would have brought these faux serpents out to California when I visited Frank earlier this month. We spent a day out in Joshua Tree; I could have taken action shots of real snakes beating up on the stuffed ones or something.

Big old rat on 2nd street

2010-09-24T08:47:00.003-04:00

Grr-meow

2010-09-20T09:22:00.000-04:00

Embroidery by Erica Wilson. Photo: Todd Selby

Snake invasion

2010-09-16T23:35:00.006-04:00

I made a couple snakes for the lovely Cat Stat last week and when I woke up the next morning I was shocked to see they'd multiplied. During the day they multiplied further, particularly during the U.S. Open tennis matches.

Some are corduroy and others are cotton velvet. Some have red vinyl tongues and others have pink felt ones. They all have embroidered eyes and none of them are the same. It's kind of freaky.

What recourse do I have but to try to sell them on Etsy? I must warn some of my dear readers, though: if they don't sell, you might find yourselves opening boxes this Christmas containing these mighty slitherers, and have to listen to me explaining how they function wonderfully as neck wear.

Two hands

2010-09-02T20:18:00.009-04:00

I came across two compelling hand-related things at around the same time.

The first was this image from Neilwaukee's blog:

I've never seriously thought about getting a tattoo, and I'm still not, but if I was shackled to a chair in a tattoo parlor and forced to make a decision about what to ink and where, I'd get the word "ART" on the tip of my pointer finger, like it is on the sign Neil made for one of his super cool outdoor art shows.

I just like the idea. But see, in a year's time, maybe sooner, I'd probably change my mind about the wisdom of this decision. Which is one of several reasons I don't have a tattoo.

The other item was this ambitious sight, a woman's entry in a nail painting contest from The Daily Nail. I'm not really sure what I was doing over at The Daily Nail, a blog kept by a woman in Las Vegas who changes the designs on her nails every day, but it's sometimes not useful to ask why.

Amazing, right? I bet those are good caricatures of her family, too!

The Cardboard Queen

2010-08-19T15:14:00.012-04:00

My crazy talented sister Brook has long been illustrating her heart out, and this week launched her new website. I've been tapping my foot waiting for this moment like the annoying little sister I am. I'm so glad it's finally here. Homey is even blogging. Congratulations, Brook!

Back in the day, she went through a serious cardboard phase. I think it started after she found a huge bunch of it around the corner from her dorm at Parson's, on 17th Street and Union Square West. Correct me if I'm wrong about this, B.

Around then we had some make art/hang out sessions in her dorm. Here are a couple evidential photographs of one such evening.

The (other) foxy blond is the lovely Julia.

I think we probably drank more cheap beer (Budweisers, shocking), smoked cigarettes, and chatted with our artsy friends than made art, but whatever. It was fun.

A few years later, Brook and I were sharing a room back at home when she was hired to do figures for the window of the old Patricia Field store. You can tell how big the figures are by comparing them to the two mannequins in the far right corner.

Those suckers were big! She got them all back when the window was taken down, and I remember often waking up with the redheaded vixen in black in the middle giving me the eyeball.

She did cardboard pieces for magazines, too, like these of Clint and Whatserface. Whatserface's hair is truly a tour de force, especially when you see it in person.

I really dug the whole era, obviously. But much like hmm, say, Picasso's Blue Period, Brook's work with heavy wood-based paper was destined to end. And you know what? This post is making me feel really old. That cardboard era was a hella long time ago!

Check out Brook's more current work at brookmeinhardt.com.

Another snake

2010-08-12T16:09:00.005-04:00

I made another snake toy this week. He went into a box last night and I sent him off this morning. Goodbye, snake number 2!

We had a teary-eyed photo shoot before he left.

He's for a little man named Van, the baby of a friend of Evany's. I hope he likes it. Moreso, I hope Van and Desi get together and have snake wars or snake coffee klatches together long into the future.

Although I suppose if this guy just ends up stopping a draft, that's not so bad.

Gasp

2010-08-08T21:57:00.012-04:00

I've tried to keep P shielded from what goes on in my apartment when he's not around, but then he found this image on the web.

Photo found here.

Bookworms

2010-08-06T08:00:00.000-04:00

I thought it was funny when I went to the library to pick up books this week, how revealing my current stack is. It's like, duh, I wonder what kinds of things this person is thinking about, and what time of year it is?

The dangers of recycling

2010-08-05T08:00:00.003-04:00

Can you imagine the nervous breakdown this building's super has when he finds a greasy pizza box in the plastics bin?

N'awlins

2010-08-01T08:07:00.010-04:00

Last week, I went down to Louisiana's fine city with P for its annual cocktail convention, the same one we attended last year.

It was fun, and swampy as hell hot. Sadly, I didn't take any photos as amusing as the one from last year of someone's crutches locked to a parking sign (sorry, Erica). In fact, the only pictures I'd like to share with you, dear reader, are of lampposts. It's not as boring as it sounds. I hope.

The first is of the ubiquitous "Sauce" tag. Mr. Sauce is everywhere in New Orleans. When you're driving into the city from the airport, he's picked several prime locations to shout out his chosen graffiti moniker in a big way. If you ask me, this guy has perhaps unwittingly opened the door for food-inspired graffiti names. When is the notorious Spaghetti going to start competing with him, for instance? SAUCE vs. SPAGHETTI!!! OK, that's kind of stupid.

Drivin N' Cryin is still together, thank god. (Whenever I think of this band's name, which is surprisingly often, it makes me crack up.)

Speaking of the Lord. We found ourselves on the corner of Race and Religious one night. I don't know if there's another street corner in America as intense as this one. P bought an all-natural, very delicious plum snowball on Piety street one day. Or maybe it was Desire street. Desire comes right before Piety in New Orleans. But even those weighty words are no match for this particular crossroads.

Whoa.

We also ate and drank a lot: Parasol's roast beef po boy, fried chicken from the Praline Connection, enormous, cold sweet teas every five seconds, crazy ice cream flavors from the Creole Creamery, kooky cocktails from here to eternity, swam in a lovely pool every day, and peeled out of town to check out the bayou and hike around a little, but didn't see any snakes or alligators (aw). In other words, I have never sweat so much in my life.

This kind of thing never gets tired

2010-07-22T00:22:00.006-04:00

Looking at pictures of the crazy outfits of yesteryear, that is.

I guess it's not surprising that macrame never really returned as a trend. I tried to stir interest in the early aughts by purchasing a brown macrame vest with pom-pom ties. I thought I'd wear it with a red t-shirt and jeans and set an example of how you didn't have to look like you snatched a blanket from someone's country house guest room and potholders from the kitchen and made a skirt out of it to show a little acrylic yarn love. But alas. I only wore it once or twice and then threw it back into the thrift store juggernaut.

There's a lot to be said about these three, I know. But I'd like you to turn your focus to the woman on the far right. I mean will you just take a look at the smokin' hot woman on the far right. She makes me want to schedule a business meeting just so I can go to it looking as much like her as possible.

Lastly, the family. What the hell is going on with this family. I had a kind of dark vision: what would happen if a freaked out cat entered this picture? There's a lot to be said about these guys, too, I know, but I think it's best if I just be quiet now and leave you to your musings.

For the love of a good lake

2010-07-12T15:18:00.008-04:00

My friend Dawn lent P and I her house upstate last weekend so we could swim in her local lake, eat like pigs, and pass out in her hammock. Fresh air is a real tonic, don't ya know.

So is swimming in a crystal-clear body of water full of little fish who will happily glide around you.

We also hung out at a winery, where P took this rather civilized-seeming photograph of me. You can't tell I'd just come from swimming in the lake and was trying to figure out how to convince P to stop at the lake again for another quick swim before we went back to the house for dinner, right? I just look like one of those smug bastards from the city who show up on holiday weekends and expect the locals to be excited to see me.

Dawn, I hope you know, you have an open forever invitation to take over my dilapidated apartment anytime you want to come breathe in the sooty air and experience the hobo-and-nut-filled streets of my grubby neighborhood. We're here for you with open arms!

They Live! They really do.

2010-07-06T18:14:00.005-04:00

I saw THEY LIVE this weekend. Apparently it's a long-treasured, cult classic B movie, its 5-minute plus long fight scene (hilarious) highly youtube-able, wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper in the lead (ok?), written and directed by the man who brought you Halloween, John Carpenter. Well, I didn't know any of this. I just knew P was hopping up and down from excitement when it arrived in the mail courtesy of Netflix. Do the smart thing and get your hands on a copy of it. Or just watch it right now here. (Crazy internet.) You won't be sorry. It's so brilliant. OK, it's not for everybody and I do get alarmingly hyperbolic about things I like sometimes. Whatever. It's still brilliant.

I'd like to be...under the sea

2010-07-01T13:47:00.006-04:00

Spoonflower is a genius site where you can design fabric and sell it (they'll print and ship it). These cool seamonster threads are by a Virginian mosaic designer named Cean.

Of course I want to design my own fabric one day. Don't you?!

Shorty

2010-06-29T11:51:00.005-04:00

I'm making shorts for P. I wanted them to be seersucker but he said no freaking way. I snuck some into the pockets anyway.

I used a pattern I found at Scavenger's. I've sewn from a lot of vintage patterns, but this time I felt like I was in a time warp. Something about creating the same kind of trousers I used to rifle through racks of at thrift stores....

I had to take them in about four sizes, shorten the crazy long waist by about half, and nearly had a nervous breakdown trying to figure out the pocket installation but otherwise, it's been a lovely experience.

A sad sight

2010-06-28T23:41:00.021-04:00

Did you know a dead whale washed up on the shore of Jones Beach a couple weeks ago? This isn't a freak occurrence, apparently: sometimes whales get killed by ships. And then we bury their bodies in the dunes. So there are enormous whale skeletons in the dunes at Jones Beach. Isn't that sad, and spooky? And bizarre?

Photo and story courtesy of Gothamist. (I'm not a fan of Gothamist, and I'm not sure why. Occasionally those cats report on stories like this, or on horrific bike accidents in the middle of Union Square, more immediately and reliably than other news sources. I know, I know. But I still don't like them.)

You talkin' to me?

2010-06-21T12:43:00.002-04:00

The Lost Tribes of New York City from Carolyn London on Vimeo.

"Urban Anthropologists Andy and Carolyn London interview some of New York City's more overlooked citizens."

Enjoy.

Responses to 6/15/10 post

2010-06-19T15:33:00.002-04:00

I DON'T DRINK. I WAS PLAYING IN THE SUN. DAMN FOOLS.

WHATEVERRR.

Montréal est doux

2010-06-16T05:20:00.006-04:00

The best ice cream in the world is in Canada's fair city of Montréal, at a place on Rue St. Denis called Meu Meu ("Moo Moo" in English, ha ha).

P and I went up for an extended Memorial Day weekend, hosted by P's intrepid bridge partner, friend, and philosopher Sari, who was back in her hometown attending a philosophers' convention. (It was fun to come home to a living room full of pontificating thinkers every night.)

Photo by "Aïch of the clan" on Flickr

I wasn't able to photograph this breathtaking and inspiring place because when I was there I experienced heart palpitations and blurry vision, trying to narrow down my choices of the many sweet and/or savory flavors (fromage ice cream, anyone?) that change (and are made fresh) daily. The grapefruit sorbet was particularly vexing. This wasn't some reach-into-your-deli-freezer and get some Haagen Ciao Sharon's Bella Dazs Sorbet sorbet. I don't even really like sorbet. But this grapefruit stuff! I was laughing and weeping and shoving heaping spoonfuls of it into my face, no kidding.

OK, collecting myself. Deep breath. I love you, Meu Meu. Let's move on.

A pee detour! And look, someone knocked over the sign to take it! (Not me, I swear.)

Little pee-wee eggs! Aw!

One not-amusing thing was my inability to track down Julie Doucet, as planned, and convince her to get back down into the coal mines and start producing her brilliant comics again. I didn't really put much energy into the search, it's true. We stopped by the Drawn & Quarterly bookshop so I could stare bitterly at the finite number of books she's put out. Dammit, Julie, you're driving your fans nuts! Also, my brother wants to marry you. (Seriously.)

By the way, cats in Julie Doucet comics say "Miaw, Miaw."

I almost had a heart attack one night when I walked into a unisex bathroom in a restaurant and saw an enormous buffalo head on the wall.

What the...?!

It was the kind of thing you walk over to very carefully, in case your assumption it's fake is wrong. But the fur was acrylic. A tell-tale sign of fakeness.

We passed this feline many times on the way back and forth to Meu Meu. He is impressive, no?

I also loved Le Pick Up, a great cornerstore/lunch counter that serves an amazing Halloumi sandwich: grilled cheese, except the cheese itself is grilled and then layered with freaking tasty coleslaw. And Laika, a cafe named after the first dog in space with an after hours club vibe. It has an industrial interior and comfortable modern chairs falling apart from overuse, there's always cool music playing, the grub is delicious and the service is charming but lousy. You can sit around for hours wondering why your evening turned out the way it did and whether you should go home to sleep, out to breakfast, or just get up and dance again.

We were too lazy to ride any of the new public bikes you can rent cheaply for the day or hour. I nodded at them appreciatively, instead.

Photo credit: Mark Evans

Montréal est la bombe.

Cats in the house

2010-06-15T05:25:00.012-04:00

Trey told me I don't post enough about my cats. Dawn, though, told me I post too much about them. (Dawn made this observation awhile ago, though, so she might not think so anymore.) Hell if I can tell. If I had my druthers I'd travel the world in search of weird and wonderful little eels and this blog would be exclusively about my findings.

Anyway, Beatrix is doing fine.

Olive, on the other hand...

Moss-covered art and super dope style

2010-06-09T12:44:00.012-04:00

Neil Van always posts fun and fascinating stuff on his blog, but recently, two images from a couple of his posts have been especially beguiling to me.

How cool is this sculpture in artist Tim Fowler's garden? I would love to have or make something that could stand up to the weather and welcome the encroaching moss as gracefully as this guy does.

And how awesome is Beatrix's style? No, not this Beatrix. This one:

Sites like the Sartorialist would be more compelling to me if they featured more images like this. We've seen enough women snapped while walking down the streets of New York and Milan. Capture some shots of fashionable individuals going camping in the rain, will you?

Anyway, clearly, I love everything about this woman's style (Especially that skirt!). Rock on, Beatrix. And thanks, Neil!

Zzzz

2010-06-07T13:35:00.005-04:00

So apparently if you don't leap into bed after having your nose one inch from a bright computer screen, and if, in the morning, you make your shades ricochet up immediately so the sun radiates directly onto your face, you will get onto a "normal" sleep schedule and stop moaning to anyone who will listen about how you've always slept like a log and don't understand what's happening to you, etc., etc., blah blah blah.

You can read all about this interesting and plausible-sounding theory here. This article also contains a link to a free, downloadable program called Flux that alters your computer screen light, so it's more natural and less harsh. So you can still read fascinating articles, Google(TM) important things like "Mrs. Meyer's hand soap refills" and answer urgent emails just before nodding off, because you know you were never going to be able to cut that out.

Self-portraits

2010-05-26T12:18:00.007-04:00

When kids ask you what they should draw, a good shotgun answer is "Yourself!"

Henry did a rendition of his class picture, he said.

My drawing group hasn't been meeting as often lately so I haven't been drawing as much. A self-portrait would be a good way to keep the pencils sharpened, so to speak. If only I could get motivated!

Yikes

2010-05-19T19:40:00.003-04:00

Frank asked me why I didn't post the picture P took of me laughing at Patrick's opening.

Because I think I look scary, like the woman in Gary Winogrand's photo El Morocco!

Great art

2010-05-18T00:07:00.007-04:00

Look at handsome Frank and his studly husband Patrick. Look quick because I'm almost positive Frank is going to email me and be all, "Take that pic down! I look too happy!" or something.

These guys were in town recently because Patrick's career is kaboom! Taking off! And is anyone as talented and deserving as this guy? Not that I know of.

His work is insane. You just have to go see it. Viewing the images online are one thing, but when you see them in person and realize they're drawn with a pencil, no tricks, just patience and skill, every little pore, you better have something to catch your jaw, which will go clattering to the floor, I promise.

You have about a week or so left to catch the show. It's on 22nd street between 10th and 11th avenues.

You'll have to bear the sight of the closed-for-good Empire Diner on 22nd and 10th, which shut its doors this past Sunday, another reliable, old relic fated to become a real estate office or hair salon or turn into a tall, skinny tower of luxury housing. But you just march past that sad sight and go see some great art. It'll make you feel better, I promise.

You made the City happy

2010-05-02T13:08:00.020-04:00

I made cards for my niece and nephew to show them how happy the City was about their recent spring break visit. (Hinted about in this previous post.) This one's Henry's:

The idea was to use Bristol paper, which is stiffer than your average sheet of paper, so I could carve a window in the front (above, for Henry's card) that would show the grey city outside, and then you'd open it up to see the colorful city inside (below).

Here's the front of Hazy's card:

And the inside:

(It was supposed to be more obvious the building is smiling, but that was before I plastered it with Hello Kitty stickers.)

They got them yesterday and really dug them. Hooray!

Drop stuff and make music

2010-04-30T17:29:00.003-04:00

Gravité from Renaud Hallée on Vimeo.

Not so smiley face

2010-04-29T14:53:00.003-04:00

New shoes

2010-04-27T15:41:00.010-04:00

I really shouldn't be buying things I don't need right now, primarily because I'm more grossed out by capitalism and consumerism than ever before. Sadly, though, I did grow up in America, so when I see something I like all sorts of U.S.A.-approved rationalizations enter my head, like "Oh, why not!"

I guess that's not really a rationalization. I did actually need a new comb, though. (And look, the shoes came with alternate laces!) They also came with a soft bag touting some lofty principles. (I think "groovyness" should be spelled "grooviness." But otherwise, yes, Mr Fluevog! I agree with you wholeheartedly.)

I have a feeling that bag is just going to end up full of fabric scraps.

Damn, this is what I get for walking home across Spring Street and taking an unintentional detour across Prince.

And now I'm not so sure about the shoes. What do you think? Yea or neigh?

Keeping busy

2010-04-20T12:45:00.004-04:00

Here are two new "secret" drawings I'm working on. I shall reveal all when I'm finished...if they don't end up in the trash with the banana peels, that is.

What your phone can tell you

2010-04-13T11:58:00.006-04:00

I felt compelled to change the screen saver on my cell phone from this

to this

yesterday. That must mean something, right?

Laundry robot

2010-04-05T11:48:00.004-04:00

I'm not a big fan of doing laundry, but I have to admit I don't mind the part when everything is clean and all you have to do is fold. So initially I wasn't interested in this robot. But then I saw it in action. It's so cute! And it just wants to fold up washcloths, dishtowels, towels, and any other rectangular items you have! OK, I'd like to hang out with this robot, after all!

Hoot hoot

2010-04-01T08:23:00.000-04:00

I read the book Florence Nightingale: The Making of an Icon a couple years ago, and what I remember most about it is this drawing, and how one of the highlights, if not THE highlight, of Florence Nightingale's personal life was when she got a little owl.

She named it Athena and kept it with her at all times, carrying it around places in the pockets of her skirts, and washing it occasionally with sand. Is there anything more freaking cute than that drawing of the little owl? And also the fact that Florence's older sister Parthenope was so inspired by Florence and the owl's relationship that she drew this lovely drawing?

I picked up the biography because I'd read a review about what a crazy, madcap page turner it was (seriously). That and the obvious "But who was Florence Nightingale, really?" question led me down into the basement of the Strand to find a copy. Well, it turned out not to be a madcap page turner (shocking, I know). But it wasn't exactly boring, either. Old Flo was a huge celebrity nurse in her time (a what?), a trailblazing feminist, and a shrewd businesswoman in her way. She was also simply tireless.

I guess I've been thinking about her recently because my sister said something to me about how maybe I shouldn't be so nice to everyone all the time. I don't know: certainly there are times when being nice to people does not produce the results you would hope for, but that's not the only reason to be nice. I'm sure there were soldiers in the Crimean war who Florence would rather not have tended to. I'm also sure, though, that she probably felt a lot better when she went and hung out with her little owl for a while. Yes, what I'm saying is, it's not such a bad idea to occasionally ask oneself, "What Would Florence Do?"

Fruits of my labor

2010-03-26T11:21:00.023-04:00

It's incredibly enjoyable to see pictures of my friends' pint-sized progeny in general — but pictures of them wearing and/or playing with the clothing or toys I've made for them? Quelle joie!

Here's young Desi Baroz making use of the corduroy snake P and I foisted on him.

The little man apparently enjoys rattling its tail.

Meanwhile, across the ocean, Xan and Eshkol's tiny heartbreaker Ad is shown here sporting his kimono. I used a pattern from Heather Ross' book Weekend Sewing, and fabric from one of her collections. Yes, I have long been crushing on everything Heather Ross.

But, you know, this world of craftiness isn't without its competitive edge. When you make something for someone, you have to be prepared for the other people out there, people with their own thread, needles, ideas, and interestingly textured fabrics.

A cupcake with a pipe-cleaner-stemmed cherry on top. I cannot deny it.Très brillant!

A badass lady photographer

2010-03-18T11:20:00.030-04:00

Wow. Thanks, Adrian. If not for you, I wouldn't have heard about this great, nearly lost-to-the-sands-of-time photographer Vivian Meier. And if not for this John Maloof guy's wise decision at an auction, and hopefully his forthcoming book about her and her work, no one would have.

A self-portrait.

It's crazy, considering how impressive her photos are. It's the kind of stuff I can get lost in. Street photography, I love ya!

It's also embarrassing how long I gaped at her pictures on Maloof's blog before I realized a large percentage of them were taken in Chicago, the city she lived and worked in, not New York. Apparently NYC wasn't the only city bustling with people and full of cool-looking architecture in the 50s and 60s, when most of these shots were captured. Hyuk, hyuk.

Not much is known about her. She was a movie buff and always had a camera around her neck. She worked as a nanny for three boys who apparently rescued her from homelessness late in life by buying her an apartment and paying her bills. (Thanks, boys!) She died last year at the age of 83.

Here's an article from the UK about her with an irritating title. Little Miss Big Shot?

A socialist, feminist, and anti-Catholic Catholic, among many other things, according to Maloof's research, she don't strike me as no "Little Miss" anything.

Her compositions are totally dope.

Enjoy.

The muppet makes the outfit

2010-03-05T11:30:00.031-05:00

An online fashion magazine, Refinery29, posted an interesting question the other day, and illustrated their query with some very compelling imagery.

Is fashion's current "fur trend" inspired by the Muppets?

Did Sam the Eagle inspire the coat at left?

Did the Cookie Monster have something to do with this?

I've never heard of the muppet Sweetums, and I don't see his resemblance to this coat.

It looks more inspired by a bloodhound, to me.

But I agree, Fraggle Rock's Wembly definitely influenced this ensemble.

I wish more things in fashion involved and were equated with muppetry. Don't you?

By the way, did you know you can design and order your own muppet at FAO Schwartz? I'm not crazy about the choices they give you, particularly in the noses and eyes departments, but it's a great idea.

Anyway. Thanks, Erica, and Refinery29!

Fashion sense

2010-03-01T13:15:00.011-05:00

A page from Nina Chakrabarti's excellent book My Wonderful World of Fashion, illustrated by my niece Hazy.

2010-02-24T11:52:00.000-05:00

Saturday night preview

2010-02-17T06:00:00.013-05:00

If you're like me, you're such a weird, panicky paranoiac, you like to be told in as much detail as possible what to expect before, say, a dance party (that for whatever reason you MUST to go to, otherwise you'd stay home, of course). My fears are sometimes irrational ("What if they aren't serving party-sized mini knishes from Yonah Schimmel's?") and sometimes understandable ("Humans from Earth really bum me out sometimes.").

One way I control this complicated emotional maelstrom I often go through is by throwing my own dance parties. This way, I can serve mini knishes, invite people who don't bum me out, and post a video on my blog that gives an accurate visual* of what the festivities will be like. In this way, I hope to comfort my guests while also ramping up the excitement for the upcoming event. If you're on the fence (you paranoiac!) about going, watch the below video and THEN decide.

*This is not an aurally accurate video though, as, with all due respect to

the O-Jays and their big hit, "Love Train" is not on Saturday's play list.

My sisters, the little version

2010-02-15T10:34:00.007-05:00

Before I arrived on the scene, my older sisters Erica (left) and Brook (right) were supah tight buds who'd wake up early to sneak around, try on hats and jewelry, and play in cardboard boxes like a couple cats before my parents woke up.

I'd thought of me and my siblings as a crew of four for so long, it was funny when I finally realized there was actually a sliver of time when these two were on their own, before my brother and I starting harshing their mellow. (Wait. What? Earth spun on its axis and the moon and stars hung in the sky long before I was born? No way!)

Erica was obviously a burgeoning fashionista/stylist and enjoyed choosing maturity-enhancing baubles for Brook, when in fact Brook had little interest in whether her necklace matched her earrings, deriving much more amusement from her secret world takeover plans. Credit for the cool matching pajamas goes to my mom and her sewing prowess.

But see? Soon, I came along and took the p.j.'s right off their backs. As I said, harsh.

Slushy attempts at snow frivolity

2010-02-11T12:49:00.007-05:00

Out tromping in the snowy, icy wonderland yesterday, I immediately noticed this pint-sized snowman in front of Cremebebe (a shop with cringingly high-priced, trendy clothing for kids, but it's both a small business owned by charming people and a lot of their stuff is homemade and awesome, so they won me over a long time ago). Note its penny eyes and buttons and pipe cleaner arms and expression!

When I got home, P had emailed me this pic. Is this guy putting the finishing touches on his creation, or is he a pedestrian who stopped to greet the icy little woofball?

Either way, it's quite life-affirming to see these examples of how people embraced the storm, despite mysteries like what the heck was the big deal anyway. My friend Spike deduced that Bloomby closed schools before a flake had touched down on Hizzoner's big dome because he's a businessman, and closing it all down saved money. Which means that mayors before him, even the Chief Creep of all Creeps Ghouliani, were more community minded than Bloomby. Whoa, man.

You burrowing marmot, you

2010-02-03T16:26:00.014-05:00

Famous groundhog Phil saw his shadow yesterday, which means six more weeks of winter. I don't mind this, as my fashion sense has always leaned toward the layered look. I'm also not surprised, as the world itself has struck me as a downright chilly, if not bitterly cold, place to reside lately.

For instance. Even though I was very careful about fitting that pair of corduroys with piping I made for myself, I still didn't get the waistband right. (I also had to use a dark-green Sharpie to obscure places I didn't use enough piping and its bright white synthetic interior ended up poking out. So humbling!)

Another rotten occurrence is the rapid disappearance of pomegranates from groceries everywhere, an event that happened abruptly, and was a shock to the passionate, nightly pomegranate consumer I'd become. At the street stand in Chinatown where a mountain of the famous red, leathery skinned berries could always be found now sits a pile of almost frighteningly large grapefruits. (Citrus fruits are in season right now according to P, to those of you who care. And I know, technically, pomegranate season ended last month, as I mentioned a few posts ago. But still.)

Lastly, I intended to finish a solid first draft of a 2-character play I've been working on for the past 6 months by February 1st, but a certain scene thinks otherwise, apparently. Thanks a lot, scene. (I know, I should be happy I've come this far in only 6 months, a short period of time for a freak like myself who is more accustomed to the leisurely/harrowing pace of 2-5 years.)

But even before Groundhog Day, I started to wonder if I was entering a newly dark and cold phase of my life. Then P emailed me this picture of a bittern determinedly walking forward, despite all his inevitable and inconsequential, yet-still-troubling-anyway troubles. He's going to get where he's going despite everything, dammit!

Sort of like that famous character of R. Crumb's, who just keeps on truckin'.

Thanks mirror lake, R. Crumb, and especially P, the dastardly handsome and brilliant man I am so lucky to have in my life, and so grateful to.

Spaghetti sauce that updates frequently

2010-02-01T11:46:00.003-05:00

New York, you so pricey

2010-01-21T08:26:00.017-05:00

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

2010-01-19T00:32:00.014-05:00

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

2010-01-13T13:39:00.005-05:00

"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

2010-01-12T10:44:00.001-05:00

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

2010-01-08T09:29:00.005-05:00

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!

2010-01-01T20:04:00.002-05:00

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!

Woof

2009-12-22T11:34:00.003-05:00

I would love to get a dog.

Specifically, this dog. At least, this is the only kind of mutt I can imagine putting up with my self-absorbed, easily distracted ways. This guy looks like he'd just take my keys and go for a walk himself if need be. I've long had the idea that if I really did take the plunge and got one, I'd also have to have a basket rigged up that could be lowered to the street from my window with the dog in it, so it could indeed walk him or herself. And I know, that's a bad attitude to have before making the big canine commitment. It'll happen someday, though, I'm sure of it. I will meet a dog who smokes a pipe and we will trot off into the sunset together.

My kind of style

2009-12-11T16:44:00.002-05:00

Ho Ho No

2009-12-07T16:05:00.006-05:00

Oh Bizzy. I know just how you feel.

Pomegranate season is over! (Technically.) People die unfairly every day and even though most of them are assholes, a large percentage of them are not as asshole-y as everyone else! America is an embarrassing and crass place to live! It's Christmastime! At times like this, even having a great portrait of yourself isn't enough of a comfort. Get your paws on some stiff eggnog, willya?

Sharpen those pencils

2009-11-30T21:43:00.009-05:00

I went to a weekly drawing group hosted by the uber-talented Emma Tapley recently. I've been so preoccupied with drawing silly stuff, I forgot how fun it is to draw "seriously." Six of us gathered in Emma's studio and we each took a turn posing for 20 minutes, which also meant you only had twenty minutes to draw. Gadzooks!

Gaby

This got me thinking about how much I putter around before I start writing. Breakfast dishes must be washed, bed must be made, and oh! let's rearrange those books on the third shelf so they're color coordinated, it'll only take a minute, and before I forget, I should email so-and-so and tell them such-and-such...etc., etc. Even when I finally sit down and have my play in front of me, it's not unusual for my finger or toenails to become extremely fascinating and urgently need clipping/filing/polishing. The risk that is run, of course, is that I'll be too tired to write when I'm finally able to focus. Lately I've become more aware of this weirdness and have forced myself to march like a soldier over to my computer the moment I've had my last spoonful of Cocoa Pebbles. Unsurprisingly, I get more work done this way!

Thomas

BTW, I don't eat Cocoa Pebbles every day, only sometimes. Speaking of which, did you know there's a yucky difference between Froot Loops and Apple Jacks? Froot Loops has vegetable and/or every other cooking oil you can think of, pretty much, in it. Why, Froot Loops?

Emma

This week I didn't get to go to the group because I felt lousy (dumb head cold). Next time I'm going to go no matter what, even if I have to wear a Hazmat suit.

Little Wolf

2009-11-17T00:01:00.003-05:00

My brother has long been a cutie pie in every stage of his life, but he was an Extra Super Deluxe Cutie Pie back in the day. Case in point:

OMG! Look at him in his home-sewn-by-Mom tie in the garden, with blurry big wheels in the background. Gaaaa!!! Cute overload!!!

Today is his birthday. Happy day of birth, my brudder! May many cold, delicious Hefferveisens be hoisted in your honor.

Sssssss

2009-11-09T12:48:00.001-05:00

P and I went to San Francisco the week before last to visit this absurdly adorable family in their equal-in-absurdity-and-adorability new home. That's Marco, Desmond, and Evany of El Cerrito in a pumpkin patch, yo!

Of course, I have already started pelting these poor souls with homemade gifts. For this visit, P came up with the idea of a snake. A snake? Yes. P has fond memories of dragging a handmade snake of his own around when he was a young lad.

As a result, P had a very specific vision for this thing. He is still disgruntled that the striped bottom isn't slimmer, because the green was supposed to go further around the circumference of the snake. It also took him a while to get him to cross over to the corduroy side in terms of fabric choices.

I was happy with the decision to put a cat toy, a mouse with a distinctive rattle, in the tail. So it rattles AND it's like the snake ate a mouse, BOTH! Here's the snake in Desmond's future crib, where he's already become friends with a snake finger puppet.

And here's a closer pic of Desi Baroz. Don't overlook those little socks with sneaker-like laces. One day he is going to be hitting one of his robot toys with his old crib snake and a fuzzy old mouse toy is going to fall out of it and his mind is going to be blown.

More Halloween kudos

2009-11-06T13:20:00.005-05:00

Behold the amazing Vandervloed clan of Seattle, who used everything from dried pasta and a vintage mannequin head to hairspray, fake fur, and frosty lipstick to bring their vision to life. Wait, did I forget to mention the fake barbed wire made out of yarn and pipe cleaners? Read all about their self-described macaroni mad max adventure here.

Further down the coast, in L.A., Evany's bosom buddy's kids showed impressive levels of ingenuity when it came to deciding what their costumes would be. How about Obelix, the Grim Reaper, and Joan of Arc?

Some people know how to have fun! And, clearly, how to make costumes. Muscles, striped pants, red-haired braids (and moustache)...a spooky scythe wielder, a passionate, fringe-booted martyr? Challenges not for the weary. Or the sewing averse.

Rock on, you crazy kids and parents!

I also thoroughly applaud ingenious quick solutions like throwing a cereal box on your head, as this married duo did. Frank and Patrick, goddammit, you make me wish I'd been there too, as Cheerios. Or Muesli. Ha ha ha.

The eternal question and his fiery friend

2009-11-04T12:01:00.007-05:00

Brook sailed one out of the park and into outer space again this Halloween. As we've seen in the past, this is de rigueur for this woman. (As an aside, can you believe how much these tater tots have grown since last year? I salute all the historical aunties who came before me and coined the cheek-pinching cliche, "My, how you've grown!")

As a question mark, Henry was frequently asked what the ultimate question was. He'd answer, oh so correctly in my opinion, "It's 'Who am I?'." Burgeoning young fashionista Hazy designed her devil dress herself. Look how proud and "Step off, suckas!" she is in the photo above.

The other side of Brook's impressive craftsmanship of Hazy's Mephistophelian vision. Bwah ha ha ha.

Here they are out on the town, so you can see the three-dimensionality of Henry's costume. I love that little girl in the background who looks like she's confused over whether Hazy's wearing a costume or not. "Maybe little girl devils are REAL!"

Owl in box

2009-10-23T14:40:00.003-04:00

Read all about it here.

Winter hat

2009-10-21T13:50:00.004-04:00

This would be a perfect chapeau for me. I could even see myself wearing a linen-y version in the warmer months.

But I think Narciso just made them for his runway show out of recycled buckets or something. Harumph.

Invisible man

2009-10-12T14:07:00.009-04:00

You might have already heard about this guy and seen his work, as I wouldn't be surprised if these images have been zinged around to everyone via email at lightning speed lately (Thanks, Judy!), and if when you saw them, you thought, "No way," "Must be Photoshop(R) or some kind of trick photography," "WTF?" and/or "I STILL think it's Photoshop." But no. This guy is the real thing.

From the Telegraph UK: "35-year-old Liu Bolin, from Shandong, China, manages to camouflage himself in any surroundings, no matter how difficult they might be.

Liu works on a single photo for up to 10 hours at a time, to make sure he gets it just right, but he achieves the right effect: sometimes passers-by don’t even realize he is there until he moves.

The talented Liu Bolin says his art is a protest against the actions of the Government, who shut down his art studio in 2005 and persecutes artists. It’s about not fitting into modern society. Despite problems with Chinese authorities, Liu’s works are appreciated at an international level."

Go ahead, Google(TM) his name. You'll see a lot more jaw-dropping images.

I think they're kind of creepy. But in a great way. I mean, imagine if you walked by and this guy, above, stepped away from that wall? Wouldn't you think part of the wall had suddenly decided to go wherever you were going? I'm all for anthropomorphic nuttiness, but I'd definitely be running down the street screaming my head off if that happened to me. (And then I'd be totally humbled and embarrassed later, when I realized my gaffe. "Oh man! That was that crazy artist dude!")

This last one is just bananas.

Get them green tomatoes

2009-10-09T14:30:00.000-04:00

Last Friday P sent me a link about green tomatoes that were at the Union Square farmers' market, were only in season for a week, and were AMAZING! INCREDIBLE! STUPENDOUS!

So I hotfooted it over there and found this one booth run by a crazy couple. The woman was completely blotto drunk seeming (who knows? perhaps she'd been slurring her words, unable to count money, and making nonsensical jokes since birth). Her husband was wandering around quietly behind her, stacking vegetable crates, etc., a totally sober ~~enabler~~ guy. They had two of the crazy kind of dog pictured running in circles around each other and barking, until the husband finally put them on leashes. But that didn't stop one of the dogs from leaping at the green tomatoes repeatedly for awhile (pictured).

They did taste interesting. But I don't know. When this week rolls around next year, will I have "PURCHASE WEIRD VERDANT TOMATOES!" on my calendar? I doubt it. (P might, though.)

A couple days later I happened to eat a really delicious red grape. I surmised that red grapes must be in season, and after a little research, discovered that Concord grapes were indeed in season! So I bought a big bunch of them from the 10th Street and 2nd Avenue farmers' market. But I soon realized that I must have had a different kind of grape, because Concord grapes aren't really for random munching. So I didn't know what to do with them. I ended up convincing Paul to help me make a Concord grape-based recipe, which resulted in a weird dinner that tasted like sausages, brussel sprouts, and potatoes in grape jelly sauce. I would have posted a picture of this meal, but I find the photographic evidence disturbing.

I think when it comes to food, I am much more of a "bring me a plate of something delicious" kind of person than a "I shall discover and seek out my dinner" one. And it's always good to learn something new about yourself.

Neil's obituaries

2009-10-09T12:58:00.008-04:00

From The New York Times

NASH -- Cornelius C.

Neil Nash, 48, died on September 9 after years of a heroic battle with brain cancer. Neil's legacy is one of kindness and inspiration in the face of his battle. For the past 16 years Neil fought and triumphed over numerous run-ins with the disease, constantly turning the medical community on its head while keeping his own. Neil was a real New Yorker and lived in Manhattan most of his life. He loved the city and was often the very embodiment of its struggles and triumphs. As a close friend states, "A big part New York City's beauty is that it often feels so fragile and so grand at the same time. Neil Nash was the same; he was always grand and epic even during the hardest times." For the last 10 years he was an acclaimed project manager who oversaw a wide array of projects in New York and throughout the U.S. Neil helped manage several large institutional restoration projects after hurricane Katrina, as well as building high-end residential projects throughout New York City and a prominent soup kitchen and social services agency in Brooklyn. A statement from close friends reads, "No matter what Neil was going through personally he always maintained an optimism and willingness to help others, laugh out loud, and be the most stylish guy in the room. His sense of humor, rigorous honesty, and openness always made Neil a magnet for great conversations and connection with everyone he encountered." Cornelius is mourned by his wife Martha Brophy, his children Jedidiah and Campbell, his sister Juliana Nash Stenerson, his mother, Juliana vanderVloed Nash, and a huge family and circle of friends too numerous to mention.

From The East Hampton Star

Cornelius Campbell Nash, 48

Surrounded by family and friends, Cornelius C. Nash died at home in New York City on Sept. 9. Mr. Nash, who was 48, had been diagnosed with brain cancer in 1993.

“Being a father” was his most heartfelt achievement, his family said. Jedadiah and Campbell C. Nash are his 9-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter.

He is also survived by his wife, Martha Brophy of New York City, his sister, Juliana Nash Stenerson of Amagansett, his mother, Juliana van der Vloed Nash of New York City and Amagansett, and by a niece and a nephew.

Although he was a consummate New Yorker, Mr. Nash had spent summers in Amagansett since his early teens and “loved Indian Wells Beach more than anything.” As an adolescent he enjoyed surfing and “hanging out with his herd of friends” there.

Around that time he helped his parents renovate Moose Brown’s old house next to the American Legion Hall on Montauk Highway, which they had bought in 1976. He also spent a couple of years in Miami Beach, where he worked as a partner in a fine-cabinetry company.

Mr. Nash went on to become a project manager for D.B.I., overseeing a wide array of endeavors in New York City and throughout the United States. He helped manage large institutional restoration projects after Hurricane Katrina and worked on luxury residential projects in New York City.

He had also been an event planner for James McNabb Associates; his last job with that company involved doing work during the 1992 Olympic Games in Barcelona, Spain.

He was born on May 1, 1961, in New York City. His father was James C. Nash, who died in 1998. He attended Stuyvesant High School in Manhattan as well as the University of Rhode Island, where he was on the crew team, and the City University of New York at Hunter College.

He and Martha Brophy were married on Oct. 17, 1992, the year before his cancer, a pineal blastoma, was diagnosed. His doctor did not expect him to live even a few months, but his condition was stabilized for 10 years.

“Neil was like a tall oak — sturdy, strong, upright, resilient,” his family said, as well as “intelligent, rational, egalitarian.”

Funeral arrangements were private. Donations have been suggested to the pediatric brain tumor unit at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, P.O. Box 27106, New York 10087-7106.

Thanks, Neilwaukee.

Merril Markoe's Quick Draw McGraw

2009-10-04T14:00:00.004-04:00

Merrill Markoe is such a genius. She responded on her blog to the whole David Letterman thing, which, I don't know if you've watched the clip of him turning his creepy tale of extortion and lechery into a ba-dum-dum comedy routine and had the same HUH? and EUW reaction I did, is "As you can imagine, this is a very emotional moment for me because Dave promised me many times that I was the only woman he would ever cheat on." (She had a decade-long relationship with him, and they created the original "Late Night with David Letterman" together.)

I thought that was really funny and must be very accurate. But also, she posted this little piece of artistry that she made: "it's that German expressionist episode you may not remember. Not everyone knows that Peter Lorre did a guest spot on Quick Draw McGraw." Enjoy.