Collection of Carlos pics

Great photo collection of Carlos. Click here to see all of the photos, including some of the sweetest little kid pictures ever.

Where the Wild Things Are soundtrack

Karen O's backup band "the Kids" includes YYYs' Brian Chase and Nick Zinner, Bradford Cox, and two Raconteurs, among others (including an untrained choir of kids).

LOVE THE SOUNDTRACK. Over the last month, Anevay and I have listened to the song 'All is Love' dozens of times. It makes me really happy. And now, so does the rest of the soundtrack! Perhaps you'll like it, too? Sit (or dance) and take a listen:

Where the Wild Things Are Soundtrack

Vote for Amanda!!

For for my fabulously talented friend, Amanda Cole, for her to win a walk-on role on the series Mad Men!

Click here, and thanks to all.

Carlos, in the lion suit

Thanks, J.S., for digging up this amazing memory of Carlos.

Evy, wearing my Carlos shirt

Click here, and you, too, can look as awesome as Evy, and help with donating to a good cause!

Wedding gift

My friend Tom is going to a wedding tonight, so I whipped up these matching bride and groom handkerchiefs. Cute, huh? If you're interested in placing an order, click here!!

Picture of the day

Fun with my new pepper plant

Today I splurged and bought a new hot pepper plant at the farmer's market. As one of my best friends, Tom, is in town, fun ensued...

Tom and I have a history of me daring him to do things such as, "Hey, Tom, I dare you to eat this big pepper from my new plant!"

Before:



After (note the look of intense pain in his eyes):

Anevay wanted to join in the fun, although she only ended up eating half:


With Tom still in pain (it lasted about 15 minutes), we got the brilliant idea of asking neighborhood people to eat my peppers...

After, of the ice-cream truck dude (who was able to mention, through his pain, that he had only had coffee... the pepper was his first food of the day!):


Before, of some girl handing out flyers for Duane Reade. Clare later noted that just about every person who ate my peppers make sounds as though they were having an orgasm. Very funny, but also very true.
Below, a pic of the flyer the Duane Reade girl was handing out. Oh, if only she had had some of these refreshing bottles of spring water on hand to cool her burning mouth!

A couple blocks down, we ran into another Duane Reade girl (I hate big business in my 'hood, but these girls made my day). Yes, she was another brave soul:

Below: This girl said she was going to save her pepper for later. Boo! Tom was offering peppers to people without them first forming an interest. Clare suggested a marketing plan. We decided then and there that we were going to go for it.

Below: The wine-store dude, although he said he wasn't interested in spicy foods, tried one of my peppers. How did we get him to do it? We simply talked about how beautiful the peppers were, how they matched so well with the colors of the wine packaging... He was hooked! He also had the best reaction... He yelped and drank an entire bottle of juice!

Once home, the fun continued, as Anevay convinced Alberto to try one of my peppers. Below, his reaction:

Who woulda thunk a pepper plant could bring so much pleasure!!

Best cover letter EVER

Just saw this old post regarding the best cover letter EVER on Unemployed Brooklyn, which is pretty much your one-stop source for unemployment news/advice:

OMFG!

Did I get your attention?

Yep. This is one crazy fucking cover letter, bitches!

I know what you're thinking, this guy thinks he's going to get a job by writing 'Oh My Fucking God!' to us. Is he insane? It's possible, you know. After writing 400 cover letters for jobs that are probably beyond lame and way too easy for me to be engages in for more than a week or two, I have lost my ability to write happy, positive cover letters telling you how god damn excited I am to work for your lame ass company that will probably have to do it's own wave of lay-offs in a few months anyway.

And hell, I'm probably not even qualified, since I went to art school and have been working mindless corporate bullshit admin jobs for over a decade.

But regardless, I am applying for the position of Executive Assistant so I can help organize some random douche bag suit so he can adequately do his job, cheat on his wife, go to the gym and not miss any appointments he probably has at an airport-area motel with a underage boy named Angel.

My qualifications include very quick and clever comebacks to any insult flung at me, the ability to look like I am working when I am instead twittering the world about how easy it would be to rob your company blind and my extraordinary way to articulate sexually devious rants to all your female and closeted male co-workers.

Do not hesitate on this one!

I look forward to hearing from you about this position, which I am soooo fucking excited about. I think I just wet myself.

References of women I've slept with and never called back at your request.

Sincerely,

Tony L.

This cover letter could have been written by me... It's what I think on a daily basis.

Make sure to look through Unemployed Brooklyn's blog for other great postings!

Hello weekend!

This has been a strange week... but aren't they all?!

Instead of recapitulating my last painful handful of days, I'm going to pretend that they never happened, and will instead give you some pics of a canvas I'm working on. My energy for this blog has waned a bit, but I'll try to give it a little more energy. I've just been so busy, and without feedback, I feel as though I'm writing to myself (and as I've written on here before- this is NOT a diary, just a general overview of my life and interests for close friends and family).

OK, enough whining!

I had started a couple of painted canvases over the summer that I had wanted to embroider over, but had too much going on to complete them. Once the acrylic paint was dry, I rolled them up and put them in the corner. Recent happenings have helped me feel newly inspired...

It's a little over a month ago that Carlos died, and a week since Don died (Don was a great friend to great friends of mine, and from the handful of times I hung out with him, a fun-loving, all-around great guy). I've had death on the brain, for sure. Also, with the trees outside my window starting to turn a bright yellow, and with autumn's arrival, I just feel a little down. The days just seem to be going by so quickly...

Mind you, this canvas isn't close to being finished... and the pictures don't show the details as well as I had planned:




If you can't tell already, I'm embroidering three layers: red skulls (death); orange butterflies (transformation); and ginkgo leaves (preservation via memory). People take ginkgo to help preserve their memories- I think it's fascinating that these trees are the most prehistoric tree on the planet... memory and longevity seem to go hand in hand with this particular life-form.

When the piece is completed, I really mean for it to look like a giant piece of wallpaper. I want the form of the man (sitting in a similar way to Rodin's 'Thinker') to be largely hidden by the repeated symbols I will have embroidered. What I'm showing you are bits and pieces of the work- I think it will be quite cool when it's done.



Now, enough work for today... A good friend from high school is arriving in a couple of hours for dinner with the kid and I, and then the two of us are going out to hear some music in the city. Looking forward to it!

Have a great weekend!

A couple of Don videos

In NY:



A week ago, for Don's birthday:



Click here to see a number of great DFS videos.

RIP Don Steele

My heart goes out to all of my Cali friends, who have lost one of their nearest and dearest, the strange, wonderful and funny, Don Steele. Although I wasn't close to Don, I have my share of memories of his incredibly ubiquitous spirit. His hilarity was infectious. His passing is all the more poignant so soon after the loss of Carlos. Just over a month ago, I remember reading Don's reaction to the news about Carlos. "Devastating," he said. "Can't shake this awful feeling."

Much love to all of Don't family and friends who have been affected by D.F.S.

Don and Greg.

Empire State Building.

Oh, I remember this night, at Ari and Petro's 20's-themed vaudeville-ish wedding. Such a great, great night. My real introduction to the whole West Coast contingent of this big group of friends...


Just a few weeks ago, at Burning Man with Sowards.

Don, Greg, Dakota and Soren. Don was Dakota's Godfather.

Tidy... Pinkies?

Working...

...on way too many projects at once.

Getting my craft on, autumn sucks, and sticky hands

OK... I've been feeling somewhat uninspired the last few days. Blame it on the weather, the short(er) days, or the fact that my schedule, now that Anevay is back to school, has changed.

Whatever the reason, I've been reading far too many of my old, sad favorites- such as Jane Eyre- which, although it ends sweetly, is by no means a pick-me-up. I've also been pretty nostalgic, thinking about old friends, and/or people and things I've taken for granted (no need to go too deeply into this). A dear friend took me to see Bright Star, the new Jane Campion movie- you know- the one about the British Romantic poet, John Keats, who died at age 25, leaving his love, Fanny, to wallow in misery for the rest of her life. I cried, of course, a flood of tears, although I think I hid it pretty well (the trick, I've learned, is just to let the tears run. Don't wipe them away- the gesture will alert your movie-partner to the fact that you're crying like an idiot). Perhaps you know of my love for the Romantic poets? One of my prized possessions is a two-volume collection of Keat's letters...

Sigh.

This sort of thing happens to me every autumn. Contrary to what happens to most people- who, by the look of things, eat more as the weather turns- I eat less- it becomes a chore. I tend to lose weight. I get migraines. I want to cry when I see the leaves fall from the trees. I toss and turn, my dreams become stronger and stranger. All I want is to be hugged and loved and have sweet people make me tea (or throw back a couple shots of whiskey).

Um, yeah, just sayin'.

Really, I'm not nearly as tragic as I make myself out. I'm just being a whiny brat. Deal.

Good news is that I'm forcing myself to make something new every day, work on the book, and, am feeling inspired about a new project (more about this to come... it'll take me a few months to teach myself how to sew properly enough to even begin talking about what I'd like to make!).

Here are a couple of the little things I've been making these days. Figure that even though I'm not in a beautiful romantic relationship, there's no reason for me not to be super happy for those of you who are (um, this sort of self-pity also is something that happens to me every autumn. Sigh. It'll pass soon, I promise!). I'm not really feelin' the macabre right now... rather, I've been sitting daydreaming about F-in' hearts and ponies and rainbows and weddings, just like a little girl:

Um, Mom and Alan, if you're reading, I guess you guys now know what I'm giving you for Christmas this year... Cotton floss over nice Irish linen, and hand-stained hoops (by yours truly, of course). Cute, huh?

Same goes for you, Nana and Grampa.

In fact, if you're near and dear to me and are in a loving relationship, please ignore the fact that you ever saw this post. (Oh, and if you happen to hate embroidery on little hoops, let me know ASAP, OK?)

Funny aside about the hoops above:

So, I had never stained wood before. I really, really wish someone had told me how impossible it is to remove stain from sinks, bathtubs, and SKIN. Yes, friends, I got this sticky stuff all over my hands, and it would not come off. I was in tears, laughing like a maniac... I used everything to try to remove it, including Goo-gone, and then, um, don't think I'm too much of an idiot, but I even tried Pinesol. I know, I know, ammonia is NOT supposed to touch skin, but after about 1/2 hour, I was desperate. Thing is, the more I tried to remove it, the more it just SPREAD, until my hands were covered in the stuff. Finally, I just scrubbed the hell out of my hands with a heavy-duty sponge. There's still a bit under my nails and beneath my ring, but hey, it makes me look crafty, right?

Oh- one last thing- I just got an email from a woman at NY Magazine... They are just wrapping the Winter Wedding issue, which means in just a few short weeks, you'll be able to pick up your copy and see my work stitched across two pages!! Cool, huh?

My contribution to Fashion Week

Order yours today. A portion of the proceeds goes directly to the Paypal account set up for Carlos Alvarez, a friend who was taken way too soon.

Sleeveless, or, if you prefer, short-sleeved. Now with the short weather, perhaps you would like a sweatshirt? Contact me for a custom item!

If you're not into the shirt (!), please consider making a donation, here.

Thanks.

September 11

Above is one of the most amazing pictures I've seen of the Twin Towers. It is one of 44 pictures collected by Seolbin Park for a show, 'Twin Towers Once Stood', at the SB D Gallery. The show opens tomorrow, and runs through October 15th. Click here to see more images and for more information about the exhibit.

Below are a couple of other images that have made an impact on me this morning:

Towers of Light, by amazing photographer, Clare Hambly. One of its creators, Paul Myoda, spoke to one of my small architecture seminars at Columbia a few years back. Myoda had been working (with Creative Time) on the 91st floor of the WTC on a light sculpture that was to be placed on the giant radio antenna of the building. That particular project was obviously never realized, destroyed after the terrorist attacks leveled the towers.

"It was an incredibly bright cloud, like an unimaginable hallucination," Myoda said about the plumes of dust and smoke after the attacks. "You could almost see the towers. That's where the idea of Phantom Towers came, like phantom limbs. The idea was to restructure that cloud into the shape of the towers."

The public art piece was originally going to be called 'Phantom Towers', but survivors and victims' family members said that focusing on the people rather than the buildings was a more fitting tribute... Hence, 'Tribute in Light'.

I'll never forget the haunted look on Myoda's face as he spoke to us. His project particularly resonates with me because of my interest in phantom limbs... I've written about the phenomenon extensively- even writing it into one of the first drafts of my book (alas, it didn't work with my story, so I needed to take it out).


Took this one from a Facebook friend's page. It gave me a strang feeling... the idea of time passing, of moments in time becoming history.

At the time of the attacks, I was living in Wisconsin, with a month and a half old baby, in the hospital with a terrible case of mastitis. Seeing the towers fall on television was one of the most shocking, surreal moments of my life, more so because of the high fever I had. The magnitude of what had happened didn't strike me until later that day. I spent a few years reading work by people such as Baudrillard and Virilio, just trying to wrap my head around the problems of terrorism on a conceptual level.

"As much as terrorism rests... on the despair of the humiliated and insulted," wrote Baudrillard, "It rests also on the invisible despair of the privileged beneficiaries of globalization, on our own submission to an integral technology, to a crushing virtual reality, to the grip of networks and programmes, which perhaps represents the involutive profile of the entire species, of the human race become 'global' (doesn't the human race's supremecy over the rest of the planet resemble the West's supremacy over the rest of the world?). And this invisible despair- our despair- is terminal, since it arises out of the fulfilment of all desires."

Yep, I thought that reading stuff like this would help. It did. It helped me become even more fatalistic and upset. It made me become this strange a-political/non-political/political (for all of them, done in sincerity, are sort of the same thing, right?) machine.

Yikes.

I finally stopped reading all of this material (at least, not every waking moment), as I realized the problem was quite simple. People had died in the attacks, just as people were dying all over the world. Wars were being started, the West was acting as though God himself had given 'her' a right to invade the Middle East.

I no longer needed to figure out where and why all of these things were happening- (why men believe so strongly in an eye for an eye will forever be beyond me, conceptually or realistically).

My heart still aches for the people who lost loved ones in the attacks- it also aches for all of the people who have ended up on the wrong side of the global order... the ones on the other side of the world, the ones Baudrillard calls the 'disinherited'. It all comes down to the kids, man, who have had to deal with terror against terror. Babies growing up without their parents, babies growing up into men and women who hate the people who killed their parents. These babies live on both sides of the globe.

Today, I take a moment to think about the way I'd like the world to be. I'm going to wish peace and love for all of the people who have lost loved ones. Tonight I'll look at the 'Tribute in Light' and try to not think of the buildings we lost, but of the fragility we found, and of the relationships and lives we find so precious.