If anyone is looking for something cultural to do this festive season, the exhibition I’ve been working on is open (and free) at the Dean Gallery (see pics here).
In other news, I’ve managed to blag myself a job at the V&A Museum in their archives, so I’m moving to London in January!! Best of all I’m going to be living with Nat again, and, yes we have a little garden. Maybe I’ll take up gardening.
Have a Merry Christmas.
Game of the day
Bloody Zombies. Tagline: Solve puzzles with your opponents’ blood! Heavily based on the Braindead end sequence.
We have switched to facebook links in the bar on the left (for those who are FB members). Myspace can *flicks thumbnail under front teeth*
Right, Wednesday. A shotgun spray of things from NYC.
the city that never sleeps
That’s pretty much true. Every bar stays open until 4am every night. Your local diner is 24-hour; jaded, badly paid waiters dealing with utterly pished punters. The theme of want-it-your-way and convenience, applied to getting wasted and munching massive portions of ordinary food. And tipping 20%.
No Country For Old Men
Superlatively tense. Totally bleak. I actually had a nightmare about the savagely coiffured bad guy in this film after watching it. Did I mention the ending is bleak?
Big Fucking Buildings
The Empire State watches over my neighbourhood from a distance. It is a strangely comforting sight, especially returning home at night. A welcoming, paternal glow. In winter dusklight, it appears brick red. The top spire stretches up, unfinished and raw. A scaffold, framework, exposed vertebra. The naked metal beams of a spacecraft or station; all rods and antennae. Totally at odds with the gothic thrust of the main building.
Compare with the Chrysler, my favourite building. I walk up towards it every morning on Lexington Avenue (of Velvet Underground fame). It’s shiny, art deco, a fan of light spunked heavenward. In direct sunlight it looks computer generated; you blink involuntarily.
Finished it today. As a novel tangentially about architecture I now see the Big Fucking Buildings with a different gape, and say things like “gothic thrust”.
The problem with spending more time on posts is that you get fewer of them.
Gone are the days of 2003 when you could twist off 10 posts a day because you’d found some amazing links off b3ta. Hence here are some random and unconnected things instead of a beautifully nuanced journey through paragraph-land.
I’ve taken to carrying the moleskine about with me again. The immediacy this brings is essential in keeping track of your changing feelings toward things – a process that you utterly fail to appreciate without a physical record. It also comes in handy when you’re out on your own again and you can look clever by jotting stuff down and staring thoughtfully into the middle distance, rather than simply weeping bitter lonely tears into your Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.
In a related point, after a night out it’s amusing to trace the gradual degeneration of your physical coordination to Michael J Fox levels by rereading the frenzied scribbles.
Actually go read that whole thread – guaranteed hours of laughs, if not 100% SFW.
I found some amazing comics from hockeyzombie, like the singing shark. And the nightmarish dough boy.
Only five days left in the big city before flying back to the homeland…