ride the waves of change ...
----------
" I don't want to be a tourist in the world of images; I want to create something with them "
I have since hit the one month mark. There were a couple days that were really hard. Transition is tough.
But Janelle Joy came at the perfect time. I needed a familliar face & a friend. We walked & talked & found some gems...
---------
& some bad thrift...
**Naked** Tortura!!??
& you know muffins are going to happen if Janelle is in the house...
bike tour. & I have discovered that they change the Holt display on a bi-weekly basis.
we did the major mtl three: ste cat, ste denis, ste laurent.
kill your tv.
watch the street.
sick whips live here.
These came with the arrival of Janelle... I immediately put them upon my wall of homesickness, as a reminder of the best surprise I have ever had.
en route a la grosse pomme....
there are mother fucking snakes on this mother fucking train.
Janelle & I rocked the ketchup & mustard combo.
these images are overwhelming, but so is New York if it's your first time.
Central Park Hostel in the Harlem Housing Projects.
If you are a cute girl,
Andre or Carlos from the Bronx will hook you up.
If you happen to be a dude, are ESL,or are an ugly girl, good fucking luck to you.
A couple graph gems on route to Ground Zero
September 11th, 2007
It has to be said that, despite being as capitalist as it gets in North America, the Financial District of New York City is an architecturally awing and beautiful part of town. Tall buildings full of text and character, suits abounding, and little shops in every cranny. Despite its entire bustle, the haze and drizzle emphasized the melancholy & somber attitude that was expected in this particular place at this particular time. I was admittedly taken by the contrast: FDNY, Police & Military members in full uniform, tipping caps & taking thanks, while counter-CNN "Investigate 9/11" types chanted & held signs proclaiming that "this was an inside job". It was appealing to see people heatedly parlaying their politics on the streets amidst the rainfall & the readings of name after name after name… I may not know how I truly feel about this particular ‘terrorist’ attack, as there seems to be a lack of sufficient and accurate information regarding this contemporary event, but I DO know that New Yorkers are a breed of their own and I admire them. Long live the resilience, the rebirth & the growth & fuck closed door governments & Freedom Towers being built on a mass grave…
After our fair share of business & chaos & suits & culture & noise & traffic & smog & mourning & consciousness, we exodused ourselves to BROOKLYN instead of WILLIAMSBURG by mistake. There was definately a moment of complete panic, while the rain poured hard & we looked like sitting ducks in the ghetto with our cameras & travel maps... but J struck up a conversation with Ryan from New Jersey who ended up basically holding our hands all the way to where we wanted to thrift... If it wasn't for him I don't know what we would have done. Lack of orientation is a total bummer.
beautiful street art abounds in williamsburg, not so much elsewhere I found...
the third day. & the beautiful morrisey.
Janelle & I stumbled upon Fashion week by coincidence. We blogged & were blogged. It was quite the event ((http://www.nylonmag.com/index.php?section=album&albid=25)) HAH. shower what?
afterwards we went to see conan.
total celeb count:
1) Conan
2) MK Olson
3) Wayne Brady
4) LYLE LOVETT... gush.
5) Okay this last one requires backstory -
I don't actually consider myself a 'celeb' whore by any stretch of the imagination. I truly do not know or care who is going to rehab this week & I certainly do not own a television set. I finally watched pulp fiction a week ago & think this testament renders me absolutely pop-culturally illiterate. If you asked me a week ago how I felt about the term 'celebrity' I would have scoffed at you & explained that I was far removed from reaction to such a fabricated notion (obviously never having a pedestrian interaction with a celebrity in my life). Sure enough, as Janelle & I walked through Chelsea in search of a Red Bull, we experienced my 1st 'celebrity sighting" (I don't count Conan because THAT was a controlled environment; as if I was visiting some sort of strange human zoo)
To my utter horror, pleasure and surprise, in the presence of the flesh & blood celebrity, I felt a rush of craze and attraction. There is INDEED something to be said about celebrity. Especially when you are standing in the shadow of Mr. Fucking Big. I KNOW WELL that everything he epitomizes as the great-sex-bad-boyfriend-turn-happily-ever-after-Carrie Bradshaw character is FICTIONAL, honest I do. But he is JUST so perfect in all his real six foot, impeccable ray ban glory...
Lyle, baby?
We did have two more days in NYC after these facts, but they weren’t as crazy as the first two, despite being unique & amazing unto themselves. They consisted of wandering around & being engulfed. Of the man made beauty of Central Park. Of good conversations & insight from a Russian, Mexican & Brit. Of stimulation followed by slumber. Of multiple beers on the train ride home...
You come all the way to New York City.
to see the MoMa, the Guggenheim,
The Met & The Whitney.
& yet they think to try their luck
AS IF you're gonna take home
some HOSTEL art. FUCK.
Pretty official looking, Amtrak.
Janelles last night: Fou Fou Electrik (Danse la Poutine!!) & Jose (je ne le fouab-il pas, je promets!!) & Vice Blog (we had showered by this point) & a walk-of-shame truckers breakfasts & packing up bags & clove cigarettes & one last red wine / baguette supper & two goobye kisses on tear streaked cheeks... & now I am alone again. Who's next?
((Merci pour l'adventure, ma belle. Tu mes manques dans mon lit et cuisine... haha.))
rsvp. Lo.
I have since hit the one month mark. There were a couple days that were really hard. Transition is tough.
But Janelle Joy came at the perfect time. I needed a familliar face & a friend. We walked & talked & found some gems...
---------
& some bad thrift...
**Naked** Tortura!!??
& you know muffins are going to happen if Janelle is in the house...
bike tour. & I have discovered that they change the Holt display on a bi-weekly basis.
we did the major mtl three: ste cat, ste denis, ste laurent.
kill your tv.
watch the street.
sick whips live here.
These came with the arrival of Janelle... I immediately put them upon my wall of homesickness, as a reminder of the best surprise I have ever had.
en route a la grosse pomme....
there are mother fucking snakes on this mother fucking train.
Janelle & I rocked the ketchup & mustard combo.
these images are overwhelming, but so is New York if it's your first time.
Central Park Hostel in the Harlem Housing Projects.
If you are a cute girl,
Andre or Carlos from the Bronx will hook you up.
If you happen to be a dude, are ESL,or are an ugly girl, good fucking luck to you.
A couple graph gems on route to Ground Zero
September 11th, 2007
It has to be said that, despite being as capitalist as it gets in North America, the Financial District of New York City is an architecturally awing and beautiful part of town. Tall buildings full of text and character, suits abounding, and little shops in every cranny. Despite its entire bustle, the haze and drizzle emphasized the melancholy & somber attitude that was expected in this particular place at this particular time. I was admittedly taken by the contrast: FDNY, Police & Military members in full uniform, tipping caps & taking thanks, while counter-CNN "Investigate 9/11" types chanted & held signs proclaiming that "this was an inside job". It was appealing to see people heatedly parlaying their politics on the streets amidst the rainfall & the readings of name after name after name… I may not know how I truly feel about this particular ‘terrorist’ attack, as there seems to be a lack of sufficient and accurate information regarding this contemporary event, but I DO know that New Yorkers are a breed of their own and I admire them. Long live the resilience, the rebirth & the growth & fuck closed door governments & Freedom Towers being built on a mass grave…
After our fair share of business & chaos & suits & culture & noise & traffic & smog & mourning & consciousness, we exodused ourselves to BROOKLYN instead of WILLIAMSBURG by mistake. There was definately a moment of complete panic, while the rain poured hard & we looked like sitting ducks in the ghetto with our cameras & travel maps... but J struck up a conversation with Ryan from New Jersey who ended up basically holding our hands all the way to where we wanted to thrift... If it wasn't for him I don't know what we would have done. Lack of orientation is a total bummer.
beautiful street art abounds in williamsburg, not so much elsewhere I found...
the third day. & the beautiful morrisey.
Janelle & I stumbled upon Fashion week by coincidence. We blogged & were blogged. It was quite the event ((http://www.nylonmag.com/index.php?section=album&albid=25)) HAH. shower what?
afterwards we went to see conan.
1) Conan
2) MK Olson
3) Wayne Brady
4) LYLE LOVETT... gush.
5) Okay this last one requires backstory -
I don't actually consider myself a 'celeb' whore by any stretch of the imagination. I truly do not know or care who is going to rehab this week & I certainly do not own a television set. I finally watched pulp fiction a week ago & think this testament renders me absolutely pop-culturally illiterate. If you asked me a week ago how I felt about the term 'celebrity' I would have scoffed at you & explained that I was far removed from reaction to such a fabricated notion (obviously never having a pedestrian interaction with a celebrity in my life). Sure enough, as Janelle & I walked through Chelsea in search of a Red Bull, we experienced my 1st 'celebrity sighting" (I don't count Conan because THAT was a controlled environment; as if I was visiting some sort of strange human zoo)
To my utter horror, pleasure and surprise, in the presence of the flesh & blood celebrity, I felt a rush of craze and attraction. There is INDEED something to be said about celebrity. Especially when you are standing in the shadow of Mr. Fucking Big. I KNOW WELL that everything he epitomizes as the great-sex-bad-boyfriend-turn-happily-ever-after-Carrie Bradshaw character is FICTIONAL, honest I do. But he is JUST so perfect in all his real six foot, impeccable ray ban glory...
Lyle, baby?
We did have two more days in NYC after these facts, but they weren’t as crazy as the first two, despite being unique & amazing unto themselves. They consisted of wandering around & being engulfed. Of the man made beauty of Central Park. Of good conversations & insight from a Russian, Mexican & Brit. Of stimulation followed by slumber. Of multiple beers on the train ride home...
You come all the way to New York City.
to see the MoMa, the Guggenheim,
The Met & The Whitney.
& yet they think to try their luck
AS IF you're gonna take home
some HOSTEL art. FUCK.
Pretty official looking, Amtrak.
((Merci pour l'adventure, ma belle. Tu mes manques dans mon lit et cuisine... haha.))
rsvp. Lo.
posted by Loco at
9:15 PM
2 Comments:
I am in love with Lyle too.
Have been since pre-teen.
I miss you.
x Nikaela
i miss you more than words can describe right now...
school has been insane and i'm still trying to find time to sit down and update people.
haven't been reading - but i will soon :S
thought you might like this though:
http://www.themuralsofwinnipeg.com/
i wasted a good hour on there...not sure what your internet access is like.
...get...facebook...
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