Aries Birthday

It's almost my birthday. Shit. Check this Austin Kleon's "Steal Like an Artist". Age is just a number-- right? As long as you are creative??!?!! Please!?

GAIA+Mental312

As a huge fan of street art and art in general, this weekend I went hunting for GAIA pieces out on the West Side. I'll be honest-- I had a real hard time tracking these things down (ones at Cicero + North) . The smaller pieces on North and ones at Madison + Ashland were awesome though.

She has a show going on for awhile at Maxwell Colette Gallery although since the opening has passed I'm not sure how I'll get to seeing it.

Also been hearing a lot about Mental312 hitting up UK Village. His geometric prints are straight out of the future. But the old Saks building? How did he do it? I want to be friends with him!


GAIA
GAIA



Mental 312



Mental 312

Starfish

A man goes out on the beach and sees that it is covered with starfish that have washed up in the tide. A little boy is walking along, picking them up and throwing them back into the water. "What are you doing son?" the man asks. "You see how many starfish there are? You'll never make a difference."

The boy paused thoughtfully, and picked up another starfish and threw it into the ocean.

"It sure made a difference to that one," he said.

-- Hawaiian Parable

Warby Parker

I love good things and good things that help people. Needlesstosay when I found out about Warby Parker and their mission to donate a pair of glasses for every pair bought, I was pretty excited. Normally I don't wear glasses, but sadly this is because my pair has been sat on several times and no longer can be worn outside the house without embarassment. Never fear! These glasses start at around $95.

They opened a showroom here in Chicago at Apartment 9 on Damen. After the coupon code, my Felton style glasses came to a total of $90. So excited to be able to see again, and hopefully another cool person in South American is running around with my shades.

Indie Darling Saturday

You know when you hit that point that your level of cuteness is post-club, post-hardcore, and inevitably indie? This for me usually happens at brunch on the West Side, when I look around at all the chambray shirts and Frye boots and start feigning for something that reminds me I am indenial about not being a hipster. I care so much I don't care. My only defense is to start eating my feelings of awkwardness, since I can no longer feel edgy by corporate dayjob standards.

Saturday I went to Treat out in Humboldt Park, and carb-overloaded (I don't have insurance so eating allows me to medicate when I'm not getting bought drinks by a guy). Seriously, my two loves combined: India and brunch. Really? Yes, it's that good. I don't know how they put masala and all those freaky spices without destroying the privileged perk of being a white hipster on the weekend.

The only way to counterbalance my feelings of anxiety about my place in the underground culture is to do something totally random with a boy of my dreams and remember that I'm on the path to greatness in other ways. In my researching, I found some abandoned hospital that sounded like a great place to impress someone with my creepiness; and then some Epcot-like themed restaurant that is actually authentically ethnic. Klas Restaurant used to be Al Capone's personal brothel and it has ghosts. Yeah, sure I'll drink from some giant steins staring into the eyes of a dreamboat while large cadavers of bears and medieval looking fish stare back at me. This is like a scene out of Blue Valentine before Ryan Gosling turns all crazy and Michelle turns into a total bitch. But we all know they just end up in that space hotel passed out drunk and totally into that hot douche we run into from college.

Too good to be true.

Daft Coke

Now that my department has permanently moved into the city, I get some of the insta-joys that come with living in the city: access to awesome things, encouraging randomness, lots of weirdos on the train. The last time I worked in the city it meant lots of bar trips. The entire block of Jeweler's Row is full of Pop-Up galleries right now, but that amusement can only last so long.

Drinking in the Loop

It's a disaster trying to get anything decent cocktail wise in the loop. Palmer House made a good attempt, but the food at Lockwood was a rip. I'm disappointed there's not a better option that doesn't involve Elephant & Castle. The Gage is always good, but you're likely to get your purse stolen than finding a seat there.

It's Chicago Restaurant Week-- and although it's an awesome idea and I realize the department of tourism is putting this together-- where are the cocktails? I don't need daily prixe fixe meals. This is Chicago! We attach upscale to words like "hot dog" or "pizza". I need to know where I can get my dream drink on.

The past few experiences I have had epicuranean wise have been disappointing to say the least. Bangers and Lace? Do you want to pay $20+ for a sausage? Yeah, I'll take the red hot please. Sable has got some amazing cocktails, but then you start with the dates and creme brulee corn and leave feeling like you dropped a salt shaker down your mouth.

I can't wait for the day I open up my own place and just have all the bottles look as cool as the ones Daft Punk designed for Coke. I should have known Colette was getting involved with this as well. Bring these to sale in Chicago!

Hermanos Iglesos

This video is helping my Mondays quite well. I am still in shock over the weekend. I never know if I reveal the actual stories of my life on here, or keep it private? Boundaries of the internet world I still don't understand. It's still creepy that my kids could find details of my life from my teenage time.

Ack!

This has been one of the worst weeks I have ever had at a job. My idealistic nature wants to say my boss will be nice, things will get better, and stay hopefully. But in reality I know office politics are an ongoing battle.

I need a drink.

I Can Read

Sometimes I forget I know how to read actual books. On my window still I have at least ten books with anywhere from 50-200 pages read, none of them finished. By the time I pick it up again I have no idea what the story is about other than "Oh yeah, there's this girl" or "Hey, yeah this is historical poverty stories". I decided this was a great weekend to read one of my Christmas presents from my brother, who did an interview with writer Trinie Dalton.

I finished this book in less than two hours which means it kept my interest long enough to pass ultimate test of not getting placed on the windowsill. Each of the stories focuses on a different theme but it's for the creative types nonetheless: werewolves, spirits, shitty apartments, Burgertime, and the moon. All of these seem to be coming up in my life lately.

Last week I went to Andy's Music Shop to help a friend buy a violin. I feel convincted that African spirits haunt the basement where they house instruments made out of teeth (human or animal not clear). True story.

Fiver

Five Things Right Now.

1. baby blue nails

2.dubstep

3.hackerspaces

4.tupac sweatshirt

5.protector of the eagles

Forever Young

Since New Year's extravaganza at Center for Transmodern Awareness I have grown frustrated with the stifled creativity available to me in Chicago. I feel like many of my defining characteristics are my insatiable curiosity and spontaneity. Yet when you commute back and forth between vanilla wafer corporate offices, and are constantly around people who firmly believe in status quo it inevitably affects your perception.

Aside from my awesome list of resolutions (ride a camel, try a jackfruit, practice yoga), I am making lists of things that inspire and keep me motivated through these grey winter days of Chicago. Top of my list for February (a traditionally depressing month) is see Skrillex, and go to a monster truck rally.

Skrillex is about to blow up on the electronic scene after his opening for Deadmau5. So pumped for February 11.

Meet Marcel