Chinese Bugaloo 6

A little peek into how the Chinese kick it old school in Beijing. The end of the clip is my favorite. I wish my camera hadn’t run out of batts otherwise I would have been able to film Chinese Bugaloo 6.

who wants a tattoo?

I just dropped into Beijing for a week and spent a day wandering through the 798 Art District where they converted an old WW II munitions factory into art gallery spaces. Of course, where there is art, the tattoos will follow.

berry berry close up

i’m so inspired by my gastronomy field trip to WD-50 in New York over the New Year’s weekend. what exits the oven always should be delicious, but now it has to make pretty for the camera too. this is a Gâteau à l’Orange et au Gingembre, the recipe courtesy of chocolateandzucchini.com but avec berry coulis swirl twist.

my middle name is lee

I finally got around to posting pics of my trip to Sweden. One of my favorite moments was sneaking a picture of one of my all-time favorite artists Lee Bontecou. Amazing and inspiring. I wish I had more in common with her than just a name. Drop everything and see her work if you ever get the chance. I especially like this blown out craziness.

the million calorie march

Culinary history was made in my stomach this evening in Berlin. Mein gott. Spatzle, weiswurst, schnitzel, quince schnapps, apfl streudal, latke, pork-rind butter. Über-decadence. Everything was devoured and it was pronounced, ‘Güt.’ The restaurant was Knill. The master chef was mama and she rocks. Outstanding.

1st 20 in Stockhom

I haven’t even stepped one foot out of the Stockholm airport and already I know that I love it here. The young fellas are all sharply sporting suits with crisp bright buttoned whites. They have a chocolate candy bar called Plöpp (not the best name for a chocolate snack). Even the room where headphones are stored looks beautiful. The woman directing line traffic greets me with a singing “Hey hey.” The simplest packaging can be so stunning here. Their words have cute little perfect circles hovering over vowels like mouse halos. So maybe something I ate has triggered some crazy oxytocin reserve in my system, but I like this place. I’m headed to the store to get me some caviar in a tube.

stumptown

Why I Love Portland (Oregon):
– Forest Park
– Cute Scruffy Indie Boys
– Bridges with Character
– Stumptown Coffee

Portland is a great place to live. I spent yesterday morning running the Wildwood trail in Forest Park and later lazily sipping the best damn coffee in the US at this great cafe called Fresh Pot. Their beans are from Stumptown which is a small Portland roaster that employ tasters with supremely gifted tongues. For all the SF coffee snobs who think Ritual is the shit, I have a little morning eye-opener for you: Ritual gets all their beans from Stumptown. Yet another way that Portland give San Francisco an atomic wedgie every time you put them head to head.

lights, camera, amazing

Bayard is bringing these mad LED projects back to life. Both the glow dome and the LED wall (called Tensor) behind it were created by the local Boston legend Kevin McCormick, aka Frostbyte, who passed away in late 2005. When this thing is lit, it is more hypnotic than DD-cup cleavage. More pics here at my flickr page. B reprogrammed both amazing creations so you hippies and ravers can unashamedly oggle the full-frontal nerdity at Burning Man 2006. Not to be missed

colors 2006

this is the year i’ve become obsessed with color. i think it started earlier this year in a shacky market in Peru, but things really kicked in when i met this shirt. for some reason the patterned combination of lavender, salmon, magenta, and maroon just hypnotized me. and i usually steer clear of all of those colors individually. but together, they’re like an ocular symphony. and then i went farming this summer which really sealed it for me. you can’t get color more pure than from mother earth. and now i am a color addict. i’m in the middle of painting this shirt on a giant canvas. one day it will be done.

so humbling

My latest idol is David Smith. The NY Guggenheim has his works on display. He’s a genius. To experience the sculptures that he did is completely humbling. This is one of my favorites called The Letter.

I believe that it actually can be read as a letter, and is filled with sadness and heartbreak, if only you had the David Smith Secret Message Decoder ring.

thanksgiving came early

there are only a few things that i know for sure in this world: gravity is inescapable, everything is just shades of grey, and NY is the bomb for food. after stuffing down a thanksgiving-sized meal at Deborah in the West Village (melting spare ribs, crack-laced french fries, and a cheesecake volcano spewing ganache-lava… whoa.), i still managed to sneak in a BEARD PAPA green tea creampuff.

love that logo! i wish i could post how good the store smelled on this blog. i want to open a franchise and get paid in creampuffs.

back in the saddle

i know you’ve been in much abandon, wondering where i’ve been. well, i return to explore the blogging world and this is what i have to offer:

the most awesome $6 cheeseburger in NY hidden behind the curtain inside the lobby of the Parker Meridian in mid-town Manhattan.

get there. have one. be initiated into the world of secret burgers. my gift to you.

DJ ID

i love it when my evenings take me to unexpected places. last night started with getting one quick drink around the corner in my neighborhood, and ended at a cheesy Pittsburgh club dancing with goofy Latin guys in a middle-aged courting-arena of desperate and horny locals. (think big hair and mini-skirts with whale tail g-strings above + ass hanging out below. ick.)

someone called me Punky Brewster while i was drunk-yapping about my height. DJ PunkyB wouldn’t necessarily be a bad moniker… not completely obscure, yet fully self-effacing. not bad.

unhappy triad

i’m falling apart at my joints. i tore something in my right “unhappy triad” and have had chronic tendinitis in my right arm. mentally i have been a spry 21, physically i wake up to 33 every morning. now i’m going to have to be one of those dorky middle-aged persons carrying a yoga mat around with me.

playing ketchup

no doubt, this blog will be flat, uninspiring and totally unlinkable. mostly consisting of paragraphs on my dog Kobe, a most-lovable, furry, highly-dim creature that is my best buddy these days.

but i’m diving into this blogging business, because i’ve always been terrible with words and i’m trying to lean into my discomfort. plus, i got to see what all this blog hype is all about.

today i walked passed a piano store and wondered how much would a piano cost if it’s keys were made of unicorn horn.

what you get

welcome to a heart-breaking work of staggering mediocrity.