More (f)art pics

There's Isabel Moros-Rigau and her quite awesome air balloons. The balloons were carried out and then released overhead. They eventually burned to ashes, and hopefully didn't fall on anyone's head. It was magical. 
Here's another of Meatball and there below is Genevieve with Justin Long. Somehow, she seems to have grown an extra paw, one that is moving south near Justin's nearly exposed privates. 

Freddy Nessi and co. were making sweaty art with strings for hours. It was amazing they lasted so long, I was about to collapse in a pile of dampness, and I wasn't even sequestered in a very warm room. 

One of the neatest things were these water creatures, upside-down jellyfish. They were projected individually on a screen in front of the tank. To put it plainly, it was beautiful. 

Art Galore!

Both shows on Saturday were quite spectacular. The Walden Project was well attended and the audience really enjoyed the show. There's Venessa Monokian up there with her collages (buy one). 

The Collabo Show was quite an event. I didn't know what to expect,  but it was a huge mix of performances and art. Much of the work was large in scale. Here are a few images and I have more coming. My camera's still broken, so I had to use my phone for these and then I borrowed my friend Genevieve's camera for the rest. 
Justin Long and Meatball were dressed like total pervs, but they had a neat thing going on these ramps and Meatball was riding on them. I love the graffiti crown on the bird's head and, of course, I love their banana hammocks. 

Jen Stark and Alvaro Ilizarbe (Freegums) made some tee-shirts for sale. Here's Jen modeling one. Sucks to be broke, because that pizza shirt is funny. 

Justin got all creepy with his lipstick and started kissing girls. I got an extra kiss from Kylee, which pleased me greatly. 

Saturday Suggestions

On Saturday, stop by the Art Center for The Walden Project (above) on Lincoln Road and then head to Little Haiti for the Collabo Show. 

Miami blah, bro

Still having an absolute shit time lately. Don't know where I'll be living in a week, don't have money, have been freelancing on a few projects, but still sadly poor, had trouble claiming my weeks and the list goes on and on and gets more unsavory as it goes. 

There are a bunch of headlines I've been thinking about posting.

First, I love Mark Bittman and I love salad dressing even more, but what the hell is he thinking with this intro? He's like Larry David, but not funny. Do you think he consulted Gwen Paltrow on all this? It looks like it might be her influence. 

Henry Louis Gates Jr got arrested in his own house because of some racist, control obsessed officer and stupid neighbors. Gates yelled that the sergeant had, "no idea who he was messing with." He probably didn't. Well he didn't at all actually. I think you might remember Gates from when he told Chris Rock and Oprah how black they really are in African American Lives 2. That is, unless you're not as PBS obsessed as I. 

This story sucks. The really cute dog stole the 4 day old baby. I'm glad the baby's ok, but don't kill the puppy!

And since I get all my news from AOL. Here's the story about Maria del Carmen Bousada, this ancient lady that lied to become impregnated with twins and then, soon after, croaked. When are old ladies going to learn that their bodies aren't made for making babies anymore. They can't handle the stress of pregnancy. This one got a tumor after giving birth to TWINS. She was 66 years old. They didn't even use her frozen eggs, so she could have just adopted. Not sure about the whole thing, but unnatural doesn't begin to cover it. 

All of this on the tail of the divorce of Kate and John, leaving all million of their offspring helplessly neglected. I don't know what these 2 expected when they decided that it was WRONG to abort one of their billion fertilized fetuses, but I think this was a clear end result. People should not have 6 kids at once, unless it happens naturally, which it won't. 

Kate, John, this was a bad idea and now your many children will become the products of a broken home with an unloving mom and an unavailable dad. Who takes care of these little cretins now anyway?  

I have nothing more to say now. If anyone has good news, please share. I'm in need. 

Dance Miami, bro

Hello, Miami. I am in heavy writing mode. I can't imagine writing a novel, given that my thumbs are already begging for a bit of r&r after just a week of work. Well, they'll just have to wait! There's more to be done.

After my brush with art walk at Locust Projects last weekend, I went out dancing with my friends Meatball and Hillary, and we had good fun. It's strange to go out with the purpose of dancing in downtown Miami because many people really don't dance on the dance floor. They stand there and stare or take up space. Either way, White Room was fun and hot inside, there was some dancing, especially when Michael Jackson came on, but the party ended kind of early.

After that we went to Vagabond. It was Back Door Bamby and it was packed. I'm sure I've mentioned before that Back Door was one of the first parties I went to regularly as a late teen, or rather as a 21-year-old... It used to be at Crobar, midweek, and it was casual, gay and fun. It was the one of the few beach parties where dudes could wear flip-flops. Over 10 years later, it's turned into a much more kitsch party with go-go dancers, smoke and balloons. It's kind of neat. Ten years ago, it was a couple of drunk lesbians in mismatched bra and undies taking off their shirts while dancing on tables, now it's topless chicks with glitter and feathers. Just writing about it makes me want to go to Cameo. Sort of. 

I finally gave in and went to the Electric Pickle, mostly because it was my friend Genevieve's birthday last week. It was a Thursday night and if you're looking to dance - this is the night. It's not much different from Circa, but all I can say is that the Thursday rock 'n' roll party is really fun and the music is tops. 

Tonight, I plan to healing, since I'm feeling sick, and then possibly going to this place again for a house party to hear this DJ Jay-J. This is certainly not my cup of tea, but on the dance tip, and maybe for one night. Also, tonight at The Standard, the TM Sister are going to be performing with some bathing suits and a pool party around 8. Should I wear my suit, too? I'm going to get ready now. Keep on dancing, this isn't Bomont. 

Hoofin' it around Austin, rest of the day and into the next morning

While we were still in Austin, after the impressive bat display, Hillary, Chris and I went to Rio Ritas. I was a little thrilled because our cab driver was Palestinian, and when I commented on it being early (it was 9 p.m.), he said, "not for Austin." Either way, he was wrong, 9 was too early! The place was dead and we played Uno for a half hour before the place started to fill up. 

Apparently, there are places that are coffee shops during the day and bars at night, Rio Ritas was one of "those." This place had a great atmosphere, nice bartenders, infused vodkas and amazingly they played Gram Parsons, the first time I've heard Gram in a bar, ever. Did I say I loved Austin? I love Austin. I drank a lavender infused vodka, and down there is Hillary sucking down a fancy bloody mary garnished with okra, a green bean, lime and some other pickled something. She was into it. 

Eventually it was time to move on, and we ended up at this bar a coworker of my cousin suggested called Cedar Street. Funny enough, it turned out to be the same place I celebrated my 24th birthday when I came to Austin many, many years back. Small world, small city. 

This picture down there is just part of the very large booze selection that was available. That was just the vodka. They have an outdoor stage on which The Spazmatics were performing, an 80s cover band that tickled the under 20 crowd. I think they might be a chain of bands with the same name, same act, playing in different cities, not sure. We ended up going home pretty early in preparation for our drive to New Orleans. 

Breakfast was an experience. We got some breakfast burritos at the Tamale House: 85 cents each. There's nothing like a good deal. I think I purchased 2 potato, bacon, cheese and bean tacos; yes, I'm a pig who eats pig. 

It was a busy place and there were only 2 seats at our table. This country black guy with a perm was sitting at the next table with an empty chair facing him. I asked if anyone was sitting there and he shook his head, so I was about to take it, and he was like, nodding and saying no or yes and I was like whaaa? He had me confused. He looked at me with suspicion and fear or maybe it was repulsion and hunger? In the end I got a different chair and sat down about a foot away from him to munch. He kept looking at me and I was wondering what the hell he was thinking, I was nice about the chair. 

After a few minutes he turns to a truck with a dude eating in it; it was clearly his friend that he had been waiting for, he called to him telling him that he didn't see him leave the place, and then yelled, I quote, "hey! You should have seen these two dykes over here kissing on the mouth. Dykes! They got them everywhere in Austin." And then, I swear, totally flashed us an accusatory glance. I couldn't resist being shocked. I mean, who the hell yells out "dykes" in a public place. I may have laughed, but I was a little scared to because I think he thought we were the dykes!  There were some lesbian looking chicks who had been sitting nearby earlier. I didn't see anyone making out, especially not after eating salsa. He was truly a gem. 

RIP baby, black kitten - no resources in Miami, bro

I had a pretty crappy week. I had a good time on Tuesday night at Fox's. Not everyone was 18. But the late night ended up completely screwing my sleeping schedule. I was already sleeping too late, but things just kept getting worse.

On Wednesday, I stepped on my back porch to the sound of a kitten crying. Immediately, I froze, I was certain this little cat would take over my night. The tiny thing was alone and sprawled on the walkway. With help from my roommate, we brought the little dude or dudette into the bathroom on a sheet in a box. It was clearly newly born, dirty and a little bloody. I have never seen a kitten that small before. I noticed it was a bit cool to the touch, but I didn't know what to do, so I ran down to Knowles Animal Clinic to get some formula. The lady there warned me no one would take in an abandoned newborn kitten, especially during what she referred to as cat season. 

My roommate said he saw a cat come around on the porch - maybe to find its lost kitten? 

Of course I started reading about what to do with the kitty. I had to keep it warm, so I put warm water bottles in with it and heated uncooked rice in socks. Its eyes weren't open yet, and it had its umbilical cord intact. I just wanted to keep it alive through the night so that I could find someone in the morning to give it proper care. I stayed up all night checking on it. I learned that kittens can't go to the bathroom on their own for the first two weeks of life. That they don't generate their own body heat in that time either and that they're born with worms. 

I stayed up all night waiting for the Humane Society to open, but at 8 am they were no help. I soon realized that the kitten would die, and soon, after checking on it again and again noticing more and more blood on the sheet. I was then certain there was blood coming from its mouth. It wasn't suckling, though I got a drop of formula in its mouth. 

The worst part was that when I called the Broward Humane Society, who wouldn't take it, I asked the woman if I should bring it into the Animal Services shelter where they'd euthanize it, or if I should give it a comfortable death. She said, "don't let it just die." and then gave me some bullshit number for free vets in the area and told me to call vets and see if they'd take it in. The free vet line didn't call me back until after the kitten was dead. No vets I called would take it in for free. The Cat Network did call back - they have little resources, but they actually care. Animal Services said they don't offer medical care, but I could bring it to the shelter. I was sure the kitten was a goner. 

I brought it to my parents' house and my father saw that it was bleeding from near its tail and its mouth. My mom's animal friendly friend held the poor thing until it died. I realized that that cat on our porch wasn't a queen looking for her offspring, I think this little black kitty was meant for its dinner. 

I have to say, I am so disappointed in the lack of resources for feral cats in the area. I mean, I now understand that a newborn kitten that's abandoned needs 24-hour care, but how could no vets take in kittens as charity cases? How does Animal Services not have a 24-hour service nor a vet on-site? I couldn't afford to bring a dying kitten into a vet; I have two maxed out credit cards and $30 in the bank. 

Needless to say, this situation depressed the hell out of me. So, please give money or time to people who take care of animals. Locally would be good, but these guys - Alley Cat Allies - are national. 

In non-related animal news: 

If you were wondering what happened to Bubbles, Michael Jackson's chimp. He's right down the road - read about it here. 

Hoofin' it around Austin, days 1 & half of day 2

I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I love Austin. Like I LOVE Austin. Give me a musical city with mexican food, barbeque, bars galore, green rolling hills and cowboy hats, and I am in heaven. My first time in Texas was maybe 6 years ago. My best friend and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary of being friends by flying into Dallas, driving to Austin, Fredericksburg, spending the night at a fancypants ranch in Hill Country, dinner and a day trip to San Antonio and then back to Austin. 

Some people believe that Austin has been overbuilt and isn't "cool" anymore. They are wrong. Austin isn't just awesome, it's cheap too. We stayed at the Austin Motel, whose sign looks like a dick and balls, but whose decor is kitsch cute and has a radical pool, surrounded by lush greenery. The whole set up was clutch and it was less than $99 a night and 4 of us stayed there.

My friend Hillary flew in and we ate a crappy meal at Ruby's BBQ. My cousin Farrah, who's soon to be an Austonian, served as our tour guide, and she did a fine job, minus this one spot. After dinner we went to Emos where this band Manchester Orchestra was playing, Chris was kind of into them, so we paid our entrance and proceeded to sip, gulp and shoot our way into retarded oblivion.    
Emos is really a huge club and music venue. There are rows of bleachers and a bar that face a huge partly outdoor stage. There's an outside area and another stage and bar entirely just feet away. We all drank quite a bit for under $60. I mean it. I'm not even kidding, and when I say "we" this includes my brother and myself, so there was some Jameson and Captain going down. 

I wanted to check out Beauty Bar, because I'd spent a decent amount of time at the one in New York, always running into Miami-folk when there. When we arrived, it was empty, and so the bartender was kind, if you know what I mean. We were like the turds of the earth, dancing dorkily for hours. But you know what, we brought the motherfuckin' party, MIA in the house. See Jimmy dancing there solo, that did not last long at all. Soon people from Emos trickled in and were encouraged by our lame display. 

I'm not going to say whom, but I have to record this tale so I don't forget. Someone went and asked the DJ to play Tom Petty. I was unaware, but I think the dude hated us after that, even though we relished every Talking Heads/Animals/indy ass song played, he still judged. As a group, even these moves couldn't move his heart past the request. We made friends with the dudes back at the hotel though, despite a lapse in my judgement and extreme paranoia - an unpublishable story (probably the only one of the trip). 
Still stinking of booze, we ate a delicious breakfast at Magnolia Cafe. More green chili sauce for me - morning, noon, night, that's right. My mom was furious with us, because my car broke down and we didn't hear the phones ringing. 

Down at Barton Springs, Jimmy and I jumped off the diving board, and on my second dive, my ENTIRE bathing suit flew off of my body. The water is very clear and I was spotted bottomless by Chris and Hillary. Very embarrassing. Barton Springs is where you go to swim in a sequestered area of cold, natural spring water. Divine.  

After our dip, we dropped Jimmy off at the airport and chillaxed until dindin. We got some yummy margaritas at Gueros and then walked down to Congress Bridge to watch the city's famous bats.

Millions of bats live under this bridge near downtown where at dusk, they fly out for the crowd, well, and for dinner. There were so many coming out for so long, it was mind blowing. We got there a little late, and still those bastards flowed out nonstop for at least a half an hour. It made me a little emotional, because this was something I really wanted to see, another accomplishment. 

My camera was on the wrong setting, so I couldn't get a great pic, but you can see those bloodsuckers right there. 

Bro, we need to catch up!

I have been kind of busy and distracted, so I'm going to do one sweeping blog to discuss "things."

My camera broke. It's really very dead. Since last September, this Canon has been breaking my heart. It's kind of a big deal to me, but I know no one else really cares. RIP, baby G9. 

Next, I wanted to get into how great the Animal Collective show was, and how young the crowd was, and how very few people from Miami were there, but it just seems to have happened so long ago! I have video I'll share, once I get it together. 

I also wanted to sum up some things I've gotten into lately and liked and or thought were lame.

I went by the Mondrian for a drink - why do they lie and tell us things are happening when there's so little going on there? I've been reading about this place forever and when I went, I was wholly unimpressed. 

On the other hand, I hit up LIV and it was a blast. I say "blast" because I grew up in Miami and my vocabulary is limited. I also use this word because the motherfucking place was so much fun. I was there on a Friday night; the place was free of hipsters, full of lame moneybag dudes and very hot, somewhat cheesy ladies. The ceiling blew my mind. There was like a saturn hanging in the middle, the lights pumped to the music. The whole feel was Vegas. Read more here. 

I went to the Viceroy for my friend's art show. The 50th floor has a nice view and a pool. I really love the way it's been decorated, though one of my friends thought it was pretentious and ugly. I wouldn't necessarily run back there, but I would steal some design ideas from them. Either way, it's worth going to drive through the dark driveway where crazy, stonehenge-like faces line the lobby areas. There are these monoliths, some with tiny, glowing eyes. Radical. 

Other things... I liked Land of the Lost. It was an absurd and visually beautiful stoner flick. I would recommend to all. There were some fabulously dirty jokes and it made me laugh quite a bunch. 

On the less funny tip, I watched Il ya longtemps que je t'aime or en anglais, I've Loved You So Long, last night and I loved it long time. Kristin Scott Thomas has just gotten out of prison and has to live with her estranged sister, Elsa Zylberstein, who has an adorably expressive face. It was not only amusing, thoughtful, disturbing, emotional, but it was also well woven with beautiful scenes of family life, trust and literary references. 

Lastly, I recently read The Lost City of Z and although I am a speedy reader, it took me forever to read since I was traveling and such. Either way, I enjoyed the crap out of it. 

New York Times reporter David Grann attempts to track down the legendary city of Z which existed in the theories of Amazonian explorer, Percy Harrison Fawcett. Fawcett led numerous successful expeditions and one unsuccessful one into the jungle for the Royal Geographical Society to map the territory and study the native people, plants and animals. He believed that there had been an advanced society somewhere in the Amazon, like Machu Picchu. The book isn't just interesting because you learn all the facts about Fawcett and many others who have and still do worship him, it's really also a story about conviction, dedication, obsession and faith. When Grann sort of uncovers some of what he's been looking for in the final chapter, a larger message presents itself, and Fawcett's tale almost becomes a fable with the moral - keep on keepin' on, because you're probably right. Very Kierkegaardian.