this is from director/designer/artist mike mills' humans manifesto. while i'm at it, here's a gay parody -yet just as cute- of my all time favorite mike mills video:
30 July 2007
all i need...
29 July 2007
pure love is the best
I JUST WANNA FUCKIN' SMASH IT WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER...
so i had the best lunch today. i told a few of you how i had the best club sandwich ever in LA earlier this week, at this place called Square One, on fountain avenue just west of vermont (across the street from the spooky scientology center). Square One has been around for about a year & has gotten the best reviews from the likes of a pullitzer prize award winner food critic dude. it's small, simple, no attitude. it reminds me of this place i had a nice brunch at last year in hays valley (san francisco)... Square One has the best bacon i've ever had, for real!!! the cool thing about it is that it's just off the beaten track. close enough to hollywood, los feliz, silver lake, echo park, but without all the fucking hipsters & all the fucking fuss & the big designer sunglasses & all that crap...
definitely get something with bacon in it or on the side. their fruit bowl is delicious. their french toast made of brioche with the bourbon pecan topping & vanilla whipped cream is to die for!!! the baked egg dishes come in hot skillets. the portions aren't big but just the right size. anyhew, if you haven't tried it yet, GO!!! check out the reviews in the press section of the Square One website; they don't lie! if i had to compare it to another east-side-ish place it would be Auntie Em's in eagle rock.
today was a really nice day. i woke up early, took chicho out for a quick stroll, met with some married friends (such a great couple awww) who took me with them to a class or service at the eckankar center. in a nutshell, eckankar is a spiritual organization welcoming people of all faiths to meet & discuss different topics & share experiences. this was my first time so i'm really not the expert here, and i'll just refer you to their site if u want to know more:
what is eckankar?
ok so for helpful quotes go to:
eckankar quotes
each time u refresh the page a different quote comes up...
so today's topic happened to be "the art of SURRENDER" and i don't think there could have been a better topic for me right now. alright, is this all getting way too fucking hippie dippy silly for you? ok, let me sum it up somehow... it was basically all about how holding on to something too tightly or wanting something too badly works against us in many cases, where we don't listen to what's really going on, and we put too much effort into "it" & don't leave "it" enough space to happen. makes sense? fuck, i'm sure guilty of doing that. anyhew, so it was all about how sometimes you just have to let go & give in for good things to come together in your favor. maybe they won't come together as "expected" but they will come together in a more fitting way. so here it goes again: me & my fucking expectations! i think i'm open & chill but in the back of my head i often hold on to some sorta misleading expectations that fucking fuck me the fuck up. urgh! anyhew... not knowing what the solution is or not finding an immediate or even practical way out is ok --um yeah suuuuure, easier said than done urgh... where was i? oh, so just listen! don't get carried away & BE AWARE, so that you can allow enough love & understanding in your life to face the obstacles & challenges at hand. being able to accept also depends on one's ability to surrender. i swear i'm not high here!!! honestly, it's obvious, and i know that already, i'm not a fucking retard mmmKay. but i've gotten so caught up in my own shit & i've been so bad at listening & letting go, that it's been really helpful for me to discuss this today, or to hear people talk about this in a place of peace & serenity. why oh why do i get so carried away sometimes? it kills me! i've been pretty desperate lately, like terrified of being cast aside, or left behind somehow. so i did the mature thing to do of course: i freaked the fuck out!!! i acted out in the most gracious ways. i didn't do anything i wouldn't be proud of. errr. wa-waaaaaaah!
this made me think about how much more i need to chill, take more breathers, be & let be. i realize how hard i am on myself & how unfairly hard i am on the ones i open up to. and all that is fine, as long as i start making concrete efforts to improve instead of repeating these twisted ways of mine. breaking the recurring patterns... work work work. love love love. surrrrrennndaaaaaaa. hummmmmm ginggg gonggg gang gang gang... galang galang galang YA-YA-HEEEEY remember this? here u go:
what is eckankar?
ok so for helpful quotes go to:
eckankar quotes
each time u refresh the page a different quote comes up...
so today's topic happened to be "the art of SURRENDER" and i don't think there could have been a better topic for me right now. alright, is this all getting way too fucking hippie dippy silly for you? ok, let me sum it up somehow... it was basically all about how holding on to something too tightly or wanting something too badly works against us in many cases, where we don't listen to what's really going on, and we put too much effort into "it" & don't leave "it" enough space to happen. makes sense? fuck, i'm sure guilty of doing that. anyhew, so it was all about how sometimes you just have to let go & give in for good things to come together in your favor. maybe they won't come together as "expected" but they will come together in a more fitting way. so here it goes again: me & my fucking expectations! i think i'm open & chill but in the back of my head i often hold on to some sorta misleading expectations that fucking fuck me the fuck up. urgh! anyhew... not knowing what the solution is or not finding an immediate or even practical way out is ok --um yeah suuuuure, easier said than done urgh... where was i? oh, so just listen! don't get carried away & BE AWARE, so that you can allow enough love & understanding in your life to face the obstacles & challenges at hand. being able to accept also depends on one's ability to surrender. i swear i'm not high here!!! honestly, it's obvious, and i know that already, i'm not a fucking retard mmmKay. but i've gotten so caught up in my own shit & i've been so bad at listening & letting go, that it's been really helpful for me to discuss this today, or to hear people talk about this in a place of peace & serenity. why oh why do i get so carried away sometimes? it kills me! i've been pretty desperate lately, like terrified of being cast aside, or left behind somehow. so i did the mature thing to do of course: i freaked the fuck out!!! i acted out in the most gracious ways. i didn't do anything i wouldn't be proud of. errr. wa-waaaaaaah!
this made me think about how much more i need to chill, take more breathers, be & let be. i realize how hard i am on myself & how unfairly hard i am on the ones i open up to. and all that is fine, as long as i start making concrete efforts to improve instead of repeating these twisted ways of mine. breaking the recurring patterns... work work work. love love love. surrrrrennndaaaaaaa. hummmmmm ginggg gonggg gang gang gang... galang galang galang YA-YA-HEEEEY remember this? here u go:
so i had the best lunch today. i told a few of you how i had the best club sandwich ever in LA earlier this week, at this place called Square One, on fountain avenue just west of vermont (across the street from the spooky scientology center). Square One has been around for about a year & has gotten the best reviews from the likes of a pullitzer prize award winner food critic dude. it's small, simple, no attitude. it reminds me of this place i had a nice brunch at last year in hays valley (san francisco)... Square One has the best bacon i've ever had, for real!!! the cool thing about it is that it's just off the beaten track. close enough to hollywood, los feliz, silver lake, echo park, but without all the fucking hipsters & all the fucking fuss & the big designer sunglasses & all that crap...
definitely get something with bacon in it or on the side. their fruit bowl is delicious. their french toast made of brioche with the bourbon pecan topping & vanilla whipped cream is to die for!!! the baked egg dishes come in hot skillets. the portions aren't big but just the right size. anyhew, if you haven't tried it yet, GO!!! check out the reviews in the press section of the Square One website; they don't lie! if i had to compare it to another east-side-ish place it would be Auntie Em's in eagle rock.
27 July 2007
back to africa... bye dad!
yesterday was my father's birthday; he would have been 67. i completely forgot & i just remembered. i'm glad i remembered, even if a day late... happy birthday mr. daddy, wherever you are!
i havent' wished him a happy birthday in 11 years, and now that he's gone, i'm back at it. strange how things turn out. last friday when i 1st attempted to write a blog, i decided to start writing about my parents before writing about me & my life. i wrote a bunch about my mother, whom i love dearly, and when i was done, i tried to start writing about my dad. i completely stalled. it hit me that i didn't have a single picture of him left. i barely remember what he looks like, yet he made such a powerful impression on my life. i still love him as well, in a way i will never love anyone else. that's when i had my last drink on my own. my last toast was to him & whatever memories i have left of the tumultuous life we shared together. he was tough, charismatic, dangerous. that was certainly worth downing a bottle of wine for! i guess i somehow did celebrate his birthday then, just a week early!
strange how things turn out in life...
some of his many weaknesses still fascinate me: money, the black market, corruption, and most of all women from morocco & zaire (congo) to brazil, their music & their moves...
here's some zairian soukous (congolese salsa if u will):
my mom actually is "african," born in cape town but spent the 1st 15 years of her life in zaire, when it was still called the belgian congo... that's another story for another time.
back in the 70s when i was really young, living in the south of france, we had several giant scary wooden masks hanging along the walls. my father was in zaire, morocco, cameroun, nigeria, liberia, zimbabwe on business 1/2 the time. so we had african shit all over the place, from gold, ivory, diamonds my mom would wear with class, to an elephant's horn carved in the shape of a crocodile to a chess board made of ivory & malachite (one side's pieces were carved in malachite; the other player's pieces were carved in ivory), to pots made of copper, ashtrays made of huge malachite rocks, moroccan tapestries, pillows & potteries, zebra skins or fur or whatever u call it laid down as carpets, giant beetles carved in malachite with long copper legs, statues of lush naked african dancers (yep, i grew up with tits & asses all around), monkeys carved in who knows what. and the list goes on.
i remember my father telling me that the masks were possessed by spirits, and if i should ever touch or lean against the walls a mask would come down & eat me up alive. when i was left alone, i'd defy the masks, stick a finger or two on a wall, look up straight into the scary eyes carved into the wood of these masks, or into their mouths... and i swear i'd see them come down towards me & i'd run away as fast as i could, as if i had barely escaped from death. i couldn't tell my parents or anyone cuz i was afraid i'd get in trouble for touching the white wall against my father's wishes. it was pretty strange living among walls guarded by big scary masks looking over you, with mysterious spirits from the dark jungles of africa, the land of tarzan or something, you know! i mean it's not like they were cartoonish; they were big, black, and scary. more along the lines of indiana jones & the temple of doom kinda shit. but then there was my radiant & coquette mom impeccably dressed & accesorized, make-up & high heels at all times, smiling as often as her facial muscles could stand it, protecting us from the hungry masks while leaving trails of her favorite scent of the time --if i remember well it was must de cartier (the jeweler's perfume!) but that seems a little too 80s, then again she was ahead of her time, and we didn't move back to brussels till late 1980. it's possible. anyhew, southern france being the center of the world of perfumes, my mother must have had several other favorites. the guerlain family who owns one of france's oldest perfume houses --their flagship scent being shalimar de guerlain, too strong for my mom i think were her thoughts on it-- was part of her extended group of friends at the time...
did i mention the ivory crocodile? if i didn't brush my teeth before going to bed, the white ivory croc would come alive, crawl into my room at night & bite me in my sleep!!! does that explain why i need so much therapy now?!
if anything, my father made me go to summer camp every summer to the uk or the us of a for my english. he told fantastic and often incredible stories from his travels, bringing africa into my world when i had yet to even set foot on the continent my mom came from. it's almost as if i grew up in africa without ever being there. i certainly grew up among impressionable african spirits & animals (skinned or carved or whatever) who haunted & threatened my life --or kept me in check depending on how you see it. these memories make me happy... cheers to that!
i never got a chance to say goodbye. so this is it. and i never got a chance to thank him for the good things he passed on to me, and the great experiences we shared in better times. by default or not, i still have a lot to learn from the time we had together. there are many more memories of my father i will chose to keep to myself... so i guess what i'm trying to do here with you --whoever reads this-- as my witness, is to thank him for the good in him i was lucky enough to be touched by... here you go:
i love you, thank you & goodbye. it's been a long time coming!
MAY YOU REST IN PEACE:)
i havent' wished him a happy birthday in 11 years, and now that he's gone, i'm back at it. strange how things turn out. last friday when i 1st attempted to write a blog, i decided to start writing about my parents before writing about me & my life. i wrote a bunch about my mother, whom i love dearly, and when i was done, i tried to start writing about my dad. i completely stalled. it hit me that i didn't have a single picture of him left. i barely remember what he looks like, yet he made such a powerful impression on my life. i still love him as well, in a way i will never love anyone else. that's when i had my last drink on my own. my last toast was to him & whatever memories i have left of the tumultuous life we shared together. he was tough, charismatic, dangerous. that was certainly worth downing a bottle of wine for! i guess i somehow did celebrate his birthday then, just a week early!
strange how things turn out in life...
some of his many weaknesses still fascinate me: money, the black market, corruption, and most of all women from morocco & zaire (congo) to brazil, their music & their moves...
here's some zairian soukous (congolese salsa if u will):
my mom actually is "african," born in cape town but spent the 1st 15 years of her life in zaire, when it was still called the belgian congo... that's another story for another time.
back in the 70s when i was really young, living in the south of france, we had several giant scary wooden masks hanging along the walls. my father was in zaire, morocco, cameroun, nigeria, liberia, zimbabwe on business 1/2 the time. so we had african shit all over the place, from gold, ivory, diamonds my mom would wear with class, to an elephant's horn carved in the shape of a crocodile to a chess board made of ivory & malachite (one side's pieces were carved in malachite; the other player's pieces were carved in ivory), to pots made of copper, ashtrays made of huge malachite rocks, moroccan tapestries, pillows & potteries, zebra skins or fur or whatever u call it laid down as carpets, giant beetles carved in malachite with long copper legs, statues of lush naked african dancers (yep, i grew up with tits & asses all around), monkeys carved in who knows what. and the list goes on.
i remember my father telling me that the masks were possessed by spirits, and if i should ever touch or lean against the walls a mask would come down & eat me up alive. when i was left alone, i'd defy the masks, stick a finger or two on a wall, look up straight into the scary eyes carved into the wood of these masks, or into their mouths... and i swear i'd see them come down towards me & i'd run away as fast as i could, as if i had barely escaped from death. i couldn't tell my parents or anyone cuz i was afraid i'd get in trouble for touching the white wall against my father's wishes. it was pretty strange living among walls guarded by big scary masks looking over you, with mysterious spirits from the dark jungles of africa, the land of tarzan or something, you know! i mean it's not like they were cartoonish; they were big, black, and scary. more along the lines of indiana jones & the temple of doom kinda shit. but then there was my radiant & coquette mom impeccably dressed & accesorized, make-up & high heels at all times, smiling as often as her facial muscles could stand it, protecting us from the hungry masks while leaving trails of her favorite scent of the time --if i remember well it was must de cartier (the jeweler's perfume!) but that seems a little too 80s, then again she was ahead of her time, and we didn't move back to brussels till late 1980. it's possible. anyhew, southern france being the center of the world of perfumes, my mother must have had several other favorites. the guerlain family who owns one of france's oldest perfume houses --their flagship scent being shalimar de guerlain, too strong for my mom i think were her thoughts on it-- was part of her extended group of friends at the time...
did i mention the ivory crocodile? if i didn't brush my teeth before going to bed, the white ivory croc would come alive, crawl into my room at night & bite me in my sleep!!! does that explain why i need so much therapy now?!
if anything, my father made me go to summer camp every summer to the uk or the us of a for my english. he told fantastic and often incredible stories from his travels, bringing africa into my world when i had yet to even set foot on the continent my mom came from. it's almost as if i grew up in africa without ever being there. i certainly grew up among impressionable african spirits & animals (skinned or carved or whatever) who haunted & threatened my life --or kept me in check depending on how you see it. these memories make me happy... cheers to that!
i never got a chance to say goodbye. so this is it. and i never got a chance to thank him for the good things he passed on to me, and the great experiences we shared in better times. by default or not, i still have a lot to learn from the time we had together. there are many more memories of my father i will chose to keep to myself... so i guess what i'm trying to do here with you --whoever reads this-- as my witness, is to thank him for the good in him i was lucky enough to be touched by... here you go:
i love you, thank you & goodbye. it's been a long time coming!
MAY YOU REST IN PEACE:)
esprit d'escalier
from the french phrase 'esprit d'escalier,' literally, it means 'the wit of the staircase', and usually refers to the perfect witty response you think up after the conversation or argument is ended. 'esprit d'escalier' is the reply i too often make (but keep inside my head), the pattern i cannot complete till afterwards when it suddenly comes to me with some sorta delay. "huh, whaaaa, aaah!" yep that's me in many conversations, when i get caught up with my own witty thoughts & they hit me while the conversation moves on to other topics. if you only could hear half of these crazy thoughts & ideas... "wait, whaaaa?" is what you usually hear charging out of my mouth when i snap out of it, interrupting a conversation that has sailed away without me, fueling some deep rooted feelings of abandon i have yet to make any sense of. oh well, c'est la vie... so here we are! this blog might become a forum for the delays in my head... MORE WILL BE REVEALED!
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