Riddled by the Night?

Atomic Batteries to Power...



(better than counting sheep)

Math is Astounding

I saw Caribou last night!!!

I've been a fan since they called themselves Manitoba. They possess the sort of sound I like to listen to while working on art stuff. Their music is so streamline and encompassing, I can easily zone in with it.

I never expected an electro band could bring so much rock and awe to a live performance.

They did... Sigh... They did...

Incredibly Epic!

I've seen hundreds of bands now, and I am putting this stellar display of amazement in the tip-top.

There is no way for me to accurately describe through blog format how fantastic the show was. So here is my favorite video of theirs.

Tandem On The Dock

Since creating the perfect t-shirt pattern, I now have more than one in every color.

In my quest to enhance them through embellishments and prints, I came across this gem while sailing the internet for inspirations.

(This guy wearing this T-shirt on a T-shirt would be fantastic, but the T-shirt itself is pretty rad.)

Maiden Voyage Clothing Co.

For Your Upright Constructions

If your space reflects your personality, I must have a harmony of conflictions going on. Like an entourage of gypsy caravans setting up camp in a manufacturing warehouse.

If your floor is not a composite of heated limestone, clay, and gypsum like mine is, and you want to incorporate the industrial vibe into your domicile, I have a solution for you.

Concrete Wallpaper

 

Hello Equinox

The Harvest Full Moon greeted like a god this morning invisibly through the overcast sky. The Lunar Scientists said it was there, and I believe them because evidence of the Moon revealing its entire circumference happens every month.

 It’s been a saturated and gray spectrum all day.  Each individual crystallized drop composing a vibrant display of echoed illumination. I’m vulnerable and bound to fathom myself while immersed in Nature’s mist like this.

It is Fall, exquisite in all its alterations.

A confrontation with the devil...

I'm in line at the store, because I want to make impulsive purchases. It's expectedly busy at 5:45 pm on a Monday. I often shop at this time so I have that ample juncture in line to mull over whether or not I really want to buy a clearance tank top as fall is about to set in, nail polish in a color I probably already have, a notebook with an interesting design on the cover, and the garlic press I came for.

My pondering is distracted by tapping on the counter coming from the woman in front of me. As if her profuse headache inducing perfume wasn't enough. She clearly has no patience for the cashier who is executing superior customer service by price checking two of her items; and the control of her own agog fingertips.

The interval of her repetitive strike increases. The teenager who hates her job right now fails to conceal her annoyance with an evil-eyed glance at Bitch between us. I am equally irritated so I ahem to convey emphasis in hopes the woman will realized the vexation she is creating. The demon of the moment looks directly at me without interrupting her beating. I am horrified! She not only walks around insulting the world with her scent, she has also painted on a ghastly mask.

I feel challenged. I am provoked. So what do I do? I perform an exaggerated drum solo from the magazine rack to the rows of candy bars and on everything else within reach. The malicious fiend in her surprise and confusion halts her knocks. The angsty register operator delightfully smiles.

Problem solved. It's my turn in line. I decide not to get the nail polish.

In a more perfect world, our battle may have gone something like this...

A reason to take the metro in Valencia

L'Oceanografic, the largest aquarium in Europe has incredibly transformed Xativa Metro Station into an ambient Sea immersion.

The immpressive design was created by the Spanish agency Publips. Inviting travelers to discover more than 45,000 examples of 500 marine species represented at the most emblematic ecosytem on the planet.

I need to go to Spain while I'm in France. You know, whenever I actually go to France.

Satellite Sewing

Cartographical Textile Work by Leah Evans.

Get lost in.....

The Wonderful World of Eugenio Recuenco.

I want a tree that grows these.

you're dancing rock & roll and playing baseball

Not a Royal Flush

I have been feeling shitty all week. Literally, or should I be more accurate and say liquidly.

My family is not from this state. I did not grow up with life-long traditions that included oohing and aahing over sculptures of beauty queens made out of butter. My friend Naomi who did convinced me with her nostalgic excitement that I would have a blast. She was right in more ways than one.

I’m blaming my deep-fried-toxic-stomach-flu-on-a-stick, on The Great Minnesota Get Together.

The lumberjack competition was the hottest part of the day, because it happened at two in the afternoon, and well, lumberjacks.

I finally touched a horse, and that’s great because I’m terrified of them. In photos and in flicks they look so fucking majestic and beautiful, but up close, huge and intensely dangerous. I made my friend take a picture of me in the act of hand outstretched, but I was so awfully quick and distorted about the experience the depiction is never going to be seen by the likes of you, internet.

I ate everything, because I’ll try anything twice. Everything comes on a stick, as not to prohibit you from freely walking around and watching other people consume questionable stick food. This led me to not being upset that I gained five pounds, but more alarmed that I lost seven through all the lingering blasts that I’ve had.

I really did have an excellent time wandering around the historic fair grounds with someone who had so many stories about the place. I’d go back, but I’ll remind myself when I do, just like I did about twenty time while gripping a toilet seat, the magical deep fried snickers bar wasn’t worth it, among other things.

Here is a picture of my beagle, Quincy. As you can see, even though I haven't been 100% I'm still very entertained.

Your girlfriend says you better not..

Here We Go Magic is on my tip-top list of favorite bands ever.
Collector is part of their recently released album Pigeons.

This is wonderfully done…



They’re on tour now! Go see them!

(The video clip is from the 1965 Indian horror-thriller movie Gumnaam.)
(You might also remember seeing it in Ghost World.)

I remember having a huge crush on Brad Renfro. I secretly hoped he wasn’t a drug addict, and that I’d marry him or least spend an afternoon on swings together. He died awhile ago, and so did that hope. I’ve accepted it; I still have other secret hopes.

I unexpectedly spent my day with hundreds of dead people and nine live ones.

Quietly gardening and liberating gravestones from rambling weeds...

I could sense that my breathing companions were getting a little uneasy with the rolling storm clouds approaching and the one ray of sunlight that happened to fall upon me.

Or maybe it was just noticeable because, Willie said in his southern Tennessee accent, “Kimber! Your utility knife looks like its glowing!”

I continued on with the broken silence by holding up a blue feather that was perched on the marble rectangle my elbows were also occupying...



It was late. Like it always seemed to be for Sophia Diamond. Even before she laced up her corset and applied her fake eyelashes. It was late. She felt late. The pounding on the door wasn’t ceasing and had been going on since she shut it fifteen minutes ago. Or was it twenty? Time didn’t matter anymore. Time was late.


Trying (torment) to remove the fleck of glitter from her eye without smearing her makeup, she caterwauled, “Why have I been prancing around with these dim cement mixers when I’m a fucking pillared canary?!”

Sophia Diamond threw her brush at the mirror…




The clouds rolled on. I was no longer in nature’s spotlight. I pulled a weed.

The guys I was spending my day with exclaimed, “What?”

“Who was pounding on the door?”

“Do you know this person you’re sitting on?”

“Are you going to finish the story?”


I told them that was the end of the story. The mirror shattered. She was cut to death. It was the '30's.

I then made up death story to accompany every headstone I cleared for the rest of the afternoon.

On my way home I saw a rainbow.





(The picture above is not the cemetery I was at today, but a cool picture nonetheless of a cemetery I was at last month in New Orleans.)