(this isn't a cop-out. taken a page from my sketchbook and accessorized it, photoshop style, beeetchezzzz.)
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
introducing: ye oldez (remix)
(this isn't a cop-out. taken a page from my sketchbook and accessorized it, photoshop style, beeetchezzzz.)
ye olde
the Vassar.
also known as Vassar. small town. and in my professional opinion, it is about as small as they come, and still decreasing in size. (that is, all except for one very rowdy weekend once every year where people celebrate when beer and baseball procreated, and thus Li'l Baby Beer Gardens was born... (but that is a story for another time, children)
this town is tucked away behind a load of trees and snowmobile trails down in one corner of manitoba. It has three streets, appropriately nicknamed by Nessa and myself as Higgins, Portage, and Main... ykno, so that we feel a little bit closer to home. There is a general store, owned and operated entirely by one man. I am not quite sure of my relation to him, although I have a feeling that it is through "family". I have never witnessed this character anywhere other than behind the counter at this store. In front of it are two old-school gas pumps that has evidence of probably worked (once upon a time); scientists estimate that it was somewhere around the Mesozoic period. No one can be sure.
The store closes early. So buy your cigarettes before supper. The church has its doors open to the public for more hours a day than ye olde general store does, it seems to me. I couldn't tell you how late the church is open. There is an eerie-ness about wandering the almost-vacant town at night, when you can hear the electricity crackle and pop as it zips through the telephone wires over-head, and the only thing you pass is a cemetary and a few stray dogs when on route to the church. So no, I haven't personally checked what time the doors of Vassar church is open until at night.
[Without exaggerating too much...]
it is my guess that of the 14 houses standing on each of the three streets, only 11 are occupied. The town residents get older, and anyone who was then considered of younger generation have had little poop machines of their own (x3) in larger neighboring towns.
A sad, yet tragic, yet somehow beautiful thing I find about the Vassar, is it's impending ghost town status. And I will miss it. As eerie as it seems to my pansy-ass self at times, i fucking love this place. A lot of warm and cozy and family-oriented memories were created here. And lots of turkey dinners, complete with mashed potatoes. O, and the jello.
That with that being said, Vassar is where I spent my Christmas, like how I always spend it. With two floors full of french-accented men and women that I call my family. Lots of wrapping paper, chocolates, and camera flashes (as always), and hugs and warm wishes. That is the one thing I like about Christmas. But if you ask me, I would enjoy it anytime of the year that this could happen. It is not exclusive to the 25th of December. And neither Thanksgiving and Easter, for that matter.
Therefore, I still am not the biggest fan of christmas. And I just rationalized the only part of the holiday that I actually enjoy. So take that!
New years is approaching just as quickly as xmas. ....or any other single day of the year, really. We're thinking that maybe the renting of a hotel room is in the works. Fuck cover charges to bars and events. A house party is what I would really enjoy, but I haven't got my eyes on any of those, this time around. We shall see.
Perhaps what you folks need is a good dose of a few pages of ye olde sketchbook.
Ye olde, again???? I'll ye olde everything, gawddamnit! Justyou watch!
also known as Vassar. small town. and in my professional opinion, it is about as small as they come, and still decreasing in size. (that is, all except for one very rowdy weekend once every year where people celebrate when beer and baseball procreated, and thus Li'l Baby Beer Gardens was born... (but that is a story for another time, children)
this town is tucked away behind a load of trees and snowmobile trails down in one corner of manitoba. It has three streets, appropriately nicknamed by Nessa and myself as Higgins, Portage, and Main... ykno, so that we feel a little bit closer to home. There is a general store, owned and operated entirely by one man. I am not quite sure of my relation to him, although I have a feeling that it is through "family". I have never witnessed this character anywhere other than behind the counter at this store. In front of it are two old-school gas pumps that has evidence of probably worked (once upon a time); scientists estimate that it was somewhere around the Mesozoic period. No one can be sure.
The store closes early. So buy your cigarettes before supper. The church has its doors open to the public for more hours a day than ye olde general store does, it seems to me. I couldn't tell you how late the church is open. There is an eerie-ness about wandering the almost-vacant town at night, when you can hear the electricity crackle and pop as it zips through the telephone wires over-head, and the only thing you pass is a cemetary and a few stray dogs when on route to the church. So no, I haven't personally checked what time the doors of Vassar church is open until at night.
[Without exaggerating too much...]
it is my guess that of the 14 houses standing on each of the three streets, only 11 are occupied. The town residents get older, and anyone who was then considered of younger generation have had little poop machines of their own (x3) in larger neighboring towns.
A sad, yet tragic, yet somehow beautiful thing I find about the Vassar, is it's impending ghost town status. And I will miss it. As eerie as it seems to my pansy-ass self at times, i fucking love this place. A lot of warm and cozy and family-oriented memories were created here. And lots of turkey dinners, complete with mashed potatoes. O, and the jello.
That with that being said, Vassar is where I spent my Christmas, like how I always spend it. With two floors full of french-accented men and women that I call my family. Lots of wrapping paper, chocolates, and camera flashes (as always), and hugs and warm wishes. That is the one thing I like about Christmas. But if you ask me, I would enjoy it anytime of the year that this could happen. It is not exclusive to the 25th of December. And neither Thanksgiving and Easter, for that matter.
Therefore, I still am not the biggest fan of christmas. And I just rationalized the only part of the holiday that I actually enjoy. So take that!
New years is approaching just as quickly as xmas. ....or any other single day of the year, really. We're thinking that maybe the renting of a hotel room is in the works. Fuck cover charges to bars and events. A house party is what I would really enjoy, but I haven't got my eyes on any of those, this time around. We shall see.
Perhaps what you folks need is a good dose of a few pages of ye olde sketchbook.
Ye olde, again???? I'll ye olde everything, gawddamnit! Justyou watch!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
I am sitting and waiting here patiently for a call back or a text message from the woman who gave birth to a screaming me, many a-year ago. It was the mother's birthday a few days ago, and I made her something I hope she'll fucking love.
I am sure all of you can keep a secret (also I wont give out her phone number, so you can ruin the surprise), but I painted and scratched away at the surface of a 12inch vinyl so that it made an elephant constellation among many stars. The mother is a big fan of giraffes, and elephants, and little knick-knacks that seem authentically african, altho they were made somewhere in the states. And by that they really meant it was made in a basement somewhere in portage la prairie.
But that is beyond the point. I do think she'll love it.
Christmas is coming up. By the way.
Anyone who didnt notice, just making sure you see this. Christmas is coming, and quickly. Less than a week. Sorry if you were stressing about unbaked goods, or unbought presents, but I thought I'd turn the heat up a little bit and light a fire under your metaphorical asses.
Ahhhhhhh, isn't the pressure just absolutely wonderful???
That means there is 6 more days I have to fill up a few blank pages in either of my sketchbooks. That will be two complete sketchbooks in one year (count it: christmas to christmas, bitches)
Thank YOU, baby jesus, for the plethora of mandarin (aka "christmas...") oranges that enter my belly on a daily basis.
See? We have lots to be thankful for.
Damn it. It's not thanksgiving, tho. So now what?
I am sure all of you can keep a secret (also I wont give out her phone number, so you can ruin the surprise), but I painted and scratched away at the surface of a 12inch vinyl so that it made an elephant constellation among many stars. The mother is a big fan of giraffes, and elephants, and little knick-knacks that seem authentically african, altho they were made somewhere in the states. And by that they really meant it was made in a basement somewhere in portage la prairie.
But that is beyond the point. I do think she'll love it.
Christmas is coming up. By the way.
Anyone who didnt notice, just making sure you see this. Christmas is coming, and quickly. Less than a week. Sorry if you were stressing about unbaked goods, or unbought presents, but I thought I'd turn the heat up a little bit and light a fire under your metaphorical asses.
Ahhhhhhh, isn't the pressure just absolutely wonderful???
That means there is 6 more days I have to fill up a few blank pages in either of my sketchbooks. That will be two complete sketchbooks in one year (count it: christmas to christmas, bitches)
Thank YOU, baby jesus, for the plethora of mandarin (aka "christmas...") oranges that enter my belly on a daily basis.
See? We have lots to be thankful for.
Damn it. It's not thanksgiving, tho. So now what?
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
o christmas tree, o christmas tree
O terrible boredom.
This house in which I am currently staying, is COLD. Before the family moved in here, either previous tenants, or half-assed contractors hired by the scumbag landlord, built an addition to the house, in which there is no insulation..
What??
Really??
Did they forget that this is Winnipeg??
Anyways, I hardly stray more than ten feet away from my personal little heater, which keeps the bedroom at almost a decent temperature for a few minutes after the heater turns itself off. Making food, means putting on another sweater or two, and a couple extra pairs of socks, to bear the coldness of the kitchen area.
I don't have a winter jacket.
It's somewhere at my sister/brother's house. Packed away in a box. I figured, when that box was packed, that I would already have another place of residence by the time it got this cold, and that said box would already be unpacked in my new abode.
Lauren has been gone for the evening- working, and helping the family act civil towards each other while putting up the christmas tree.
christmas tree.... christmas tree...
o right! its that so-called Christmas coming up. O lordy. The holiday in which I have a love/hate relationship with. It doesn't agree with any of my morals. And neither does the holiday music- I've come to discover. (That one struck me one xmas season, years ago, working in a mall.)
So I am here waiting for Lauren to finish her duties, while i quietly bide my time... doing god-knows-what, making art, and napping (lots of napping). In fact, i haven't been able to stop napping the past week or so. It's been really hard to actually get up out of bed, at all. I could really just sleep the days away. Something tells me I have become slightly depressed. Working past it, seems hard and full of effort... but worth the attempts.
Perhaps a hunt for chocolate will lift my spirits! I have a hella sweet tooth that needs its cravings a-fixxxxxxxed.
update: still no word from fucking-jerk-face disability, who owes me money from a few months back now. my patience is wearing thin. but not like that makes any difference at all..
This house in which I am currently staying, is COLD. Before the family moved in here, either previous tenants, or half-assed contractors hired by the scumbag landlord, built an addition to the house, in which there is no insulation..
What??
Really??
Did they forget that this is Winnipeg??
Anyways, I hardly stray more than ten feet away from my personal little heater, which keeps the bedroom at almost a decent temperature for a few minutes after the heater turns itself off. Making food, means putting on another sweater or two, and a couple extra pairs of socks, to bear the coldness of the kitchen area.
I don't have a winter jacket.
It's somewhere at my sister/brother's house. Packed away in a box. I figured, when that box was packed, that I would already have another place of residence by the time it got this cold, and that said box would already be unpacked in my new abode.
Lauren has been gone for the evening- working, and helping the family act civil towards each other while putting up the christmas tree.
christmas tree.... christmas tree...
o right! its that so-called Christmas coming up. O lordy. The holiday in which I have a love/hate relationship with. It doesn't agree with any of my morals. And neither does the holiday music- I've come to discover. (That one struck me one xmas season, years ago, working in a mall.)
So I am here waiting for Lauren to finish her duties, while i quietly bide my time... doing god-knows-what, making art, and napping (lots of napping). In fact, i haven't been able to stop napping the past week or so. It's been really hard to actually get up out of bed, at all. I could really just sleep the days away. Something tells me I have become slightly depressed. Working past it, seems hard and full of effort... but worth the attempts.
Perhaps a hunt for chocolate will lift my spirits! I have a hella sweet tooth that needs its cravings a-fixxxxxxxed.
update: still no word from fucking-jerk-face disability, who owes me money from a few months back now. my patience is wearing thin. but not like that makes any difference at all..
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
I'm coming around. You'll see, just give it good time and you'll see.
And I am sure you all have good ideas about. Nobody lies to nobody, is what I have come to learn. Call it a life lesson or something. Or something. Or something.
Give me a break.
And I am sure you all have good ideas about. Nobody lies to nobody, is what I have come to learn. Call it a life lesson or something. Or something. Or something.
Give me a break.
bruised billy-joel new york state-of-mind
lighting up to pass the time
and not a moment too soon.
before my head took notice
and took cover
here I stand, hung up on a few details
of imperfections and not-good-enoughs.
is it true?
compare my reflection to theirs
suddenly i don't look the same.
older eyes
with less to show..
except memories of the bottom of the world.
thought I was done
but I was really just wrong.
and not a moment too soon.
before my head took notice
and took cover
here I stand, hung up on a few details
of imperfections and not-good-enoughs.
is it true?
compare my reflection to theirs
suddenly i don't look the same.
older eyes
with less to show..
except memories of the bottom of the world.
thought I was done
but I was really just wrong.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
this is mighty chewy
...click on that. i can't believe this guy.
Want to read a scary article about this guy the president trusts and his "genius" child-porn mumbo-jumbo???
that article is ridiculous.
...my eyes keep closing whilst attempting to focus on the screen in front of me. So I am here rambling to you guys via this thing, to waste more time. Ten more minutes. Eight more. Five.
Looking at pictures of athiest cats, reading articles about Obama's failure-in-process, browsing endless drum-and-bass sights, and re-thinking my approach to life.... all things that i have participated in, in the last half hour.
and now, after realizing that the time is 2:48 in the am, i am considering bed as a fantastic *yawn! stretch*.... idea.
g'nite y'all.
Want to read a scary article about this guy the president trusts and his "genius" child-porn mumbo-jumbo???
that article is ridiculous.
...my eyes keep closing whilst attempting to focus on the screen in front of me. So I am here rambling to you guys via this thing, to waste more time. Ten more minutes. Eight more. Five.
Looking at pictures of athiest cats, reading articles about Obama's failure-in-process, browsing endless drum-and-bass sights, and re-thinking my approach to life.... all things that i have participated in, in the last half hour.
and now, after realizing that the time is 2:48 in the am, i am considering bed as a fantastic *yawn! stretch*.... idea.
g'nite y'all.