right for the job

  • The Creators Project, in partnership with VICE and Intel, presents Amon Tobin.
  • Sticker Robot & ObeyGiant have teamed up to give away silkscreened stickers in support of Occupy.

    Been steadily trashing my room since I returned to Vancouver, hauling things off shelves, spreading clothes, books, and miscellany on every surface, sleeping curled up in the middle of everything, then getting up and doing it all again. It’s refreshing, if messy, sorting everything into cascading piles of to-do list, forward progress evinced by time lapse, the layers thinning, hopefully to eventually disappear. Chaos with a purpose, with an eye towards a goal.

    The problem is that our things-to-get-rid-of are taking up space planned for things-to-keep, like the overly large chandelier currently lording over our front closet, hogging all the room the linens should be living in instead of in the bottom of my bedroom closet in the space meant for my french horn. Like that. But everywhere. And the more I uncover, the more I discover needs to be addressed. The box of mending that had been hiding in the suitcase that I listed on Craigslist. The bag of massive red paper lanterns under my bed where I planned on putting the lightbox.

    I tell myself this is the prelude, that once everything gathers enough momentum, there will be cohesion, and order will follow with the flashy grace of a well practiced ceremony, the sort tourists gawp over in countries far from their own. My apartment will be so well organized I could sell tickets and the stubs would be postcards, so you too could show your family and friends, until the entire world holds its breath for a moment in awe.

  • more people in a week, a slice of old life before I run out of busfare

    365: 2012/01/15 - "fashion photographer", a twitpic by Andrew
  • 70 Science Fiction and Fantasy Movies to Watch Out for in 2012.
  • The absolutely epic line-up of this year’s Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival.

    Tea today, slumping on Kyle’s couch, a cupcake, a scone, Lisa and Jeremy and Derek and Aleks and another girl, a name I have regretfully forgotten. A drive downtown, meeting Jacquie at work, then a route along water to the Naam, where Hawkfeather and Loren were waiting, and eventually, by chance, Lori and David arrived. Dropped off at Main, upstairs to the batcave, mad scientists lair, mess and matrix, Dragos and Leah, canned peach tea vodka, indian food, and my only christmas card. I should visit more. I miss these people, I miss this place. Next is Sherlock across the street, the Mcbunker, houses named, it’s A Thing, apartments as proper nouns, filled with friends and internet references, people piled in like pillows, pillows lining the floor. I am annoyed at the obvious plot, the awkward scene changes, but the company is especially sweet. Back to the penthouse after, all telescopes and swords, introducing Andrew to his neighbor, a stack of helicopters under the stairs. I am tired, but not exhausted. Chilly, but not frozen. I leave at midnight. I get home before one.