Tate Britain

Not exactly what I expected, but there's a few good things in there.
This piece above is titled something along the lines of "Angels and Demons," a depiction of the battlefield between Heaven's guardians and the infantry from Hell. Interesting idea, and I like the caricature style, as well as the colour palette, but unfortunately couldn't exactly convey that here. What was odd to me, though, is the fact that the angels are fighting...not so fiendish-looking devils. So I might have the title mixed up on that one.


I love the facial expressions in this piece, especially in the center portion that I've posted above. The devilish face of anticipation of the greedy, fat monk (stab at the Catholic regime, possibly) compares nicely to the grotesque face of the guard to the right of him, who looks kinda like Disney's Goofy. Sounds like a pretty good art project. To get disney characters to look like real people, whether it be because of physical deformation or plastic surgery. Donald Duck should be intesting. Wow so on that topic it could be a book cover for "The Island of Dr. Monreau" (took me a while to search for the title of this book that I read in 7th grade, only armed with the keywords "animal, ""people," "surgery", and "doctor")

meet MR RECYCLE

aparently this was in my neighborhood this week. words fail me.

So I have this weird thing for closed market streets and shops at night...

Not much to say, so I'll include an entry from October, one of my first few nights out in the area:

Saw a bunch of Yellow-Jacketed Ambulance workers and Policemen surrounding a body in the middle of the road on my bike ride home from Brick Lane. As I slowed by, the paramedics were zipping up a bag over his chest; no car, no bike; looks like a drunken pedestrian struck by a hit-and-run. Before I could catch a glimpse of his face, I heard screaming and saw a group of 7-8 kids running on the opposite end of the sidewalk, mostly african-english, sprinting down away from me, turning into the street right before my flat, in front of the police station. The pack of kids were being chased by a guy in his late-20s, lugging his coat and office bag, screaming that he's been robbed and pleading for someone to call the police, running but stumbling behind the youngsters. It was daylight savings by the time I got home - receiving a gift of an hour at 2:00am.

the picture doesnt match the story

Walking around Brick Lane around 2am, most bars and venues of inebriation are shutting down, early -- but supposedly typical of the city. Drunken trios, double-dates and dude-couples are staggering through the streets, announcing their presence with two noticeable medical symptoms: lack of voice control or alcoholic voice amplification syndrome, and Tourettes, given the slurring and swearing. You can hear the soft echoes of the clumsy tapping of impaired footsteps down the Lane's recently rained stone-mosaic sidewalks, neon-lit by Mediterranean restaurant signs.

About two blocks from the designated terminating-end of this alley of carelessness and enjoyment, I almost run into someone turning onto Brick Lane at the streetcorner. If it was an aggressive bum or a mugger, I would have surely been in a less than opportune position. But the stranger isn't intimidating, it's not even at shoulder-height: it’s a child. A young girl, no more than 14 years old, her round head draped in a pink hibjab, eyeballs tethered to the kaleidoscopic screen of her Gameboy DS. She's completely shut off from the world about her, a manifestation of purity and innocence in this dark, dirty, drunken landscape lurking with jolly drunks as well as typical sketchy night owls.

While she's got digital blinders on, she's not oblivious, as she turned around the street corner, she was able to navigate and whizzed around me without moving her head or eyeballs; maybe she gets her autopilot sense from a cab-driving father. I wanted to somehow tell her to go home, or ask her where her parents were, but she was walking quite fast for someone with short strides, and was the size of a pink gummi bear while I was still thinking what I should do, or say. I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that theres CHILDREN on this block, at this time, while she marches with her slouched head and slumped shoulders drawn into the light glowing from her Gameboy, her beacon to the end of the tunnel of sin and darkness.

There's a large Muslim population in the area, evident in the apartment complexes as well as the restaurants, fast-food kebab joints, and the late-night hosts grabbing liquor behind off-license counters. But I still wonder what she was doing out so late, by herself, and how common it might be to see kids that young running about at night in the city. And I wonder if its more of a subconscious defense for her to be completely mesmerized by her DS, to block out the sin about her, masking her eyes with the colorful popping graphics by Nintendo programmers.

Trafalgar Fountain

Russian Circles

The stage: completely unlit, except for one halogen spotlight behind the drummer's kickdrum. No talking, no intros, no chatter, no communication between or among the band. Complete vocal silence. No eye contact, gestures or interaction with the audience except at the end. Minimalism at its most, and best. The way my concerts should be. Kinda not in tune with metal-punk inspired post-rock, however was the deep-cut v-neck with burly chest hair on the bassist, and indie-tight red pants and orange tee on the guitarist. The drummer, as usual, dresses really conservatively and looks like you could find a snapshot of him somewhere in Esquire.

Saw them in LA when they were supporting Minus the Bear, and according to their new album, which has the FIRST track that sounds almost OPTIMISTIC, I'd say Russian Circles got some cues from their time with the band. The band's skill is amazing individually, able to pull off such complexity without opening anyone's mouth. The bassist does some mad riffs, however, and the drummer is a sight to see.

ben at night

Brick Lane Sunday Market

So many useless shops and tourist traps in an air-conditioned warehouse with blatant signs. Way too many overpriced "vintage" booths -- which really just sold old used clothes for a very unreasonable price. Too many useless and unattractive arts and crafts booths. Belts and leather goods booths. A lot of self-promotion by wannabe designers promoting one, two or maybe three basic prints, themes or logos plastered on different hues of tees, sweaters and hoodies in both boys and girls.

The food however, is something that I'd come for if I had the cash or came with friends. A lot of ethnic and authentic-looking stuff of all varieties.

these arms are snakes

The lead singer comes on stage, wobbly, blankless stare, and smelling like belligerence: an instant, drugged-out sign that the complete opposite has come onto the stage, despite the fact that the bassist is the same. The yelling is incomprehensible, made even more impossible to pretend to understand when he throws in the vocal effects board he has at his fingertips, propped on a stand. The guy is insane: His shirt is unbuttoned, his shirt is off, his belt is off, his belt is wrapped around his neck. He's dancing around the stage, in front of the drummer, and climbs he speakers to dance on top of em. He kneels his sweat into the crowd, shaking and screaming, he jumps into the crowd to surf, he climbs the lighting rig posts. He spits in the air and catches it in his mouth, he misses, he just keeps spitting on the floor, he spills his beer everywhere. MADNESS.

very, very thin walls and windows

So last week they were doing some construction on the street DIRECTLY OUTSIDE MY DOOR. See the sidewalk there? Yea my window is facing that. Couple this with the fact that I have a Police Station right across the street (even I wake up when they have to dispatch cars at 4am), the Rail Station (visible behind the truck in the photo) that not only you can hear while its running, but you can hear the maintenance crews grinding the rails at night. Oh yea, and the bus stop that is also right in front of my window. And general main-street traffic.

Maybe these should be hung from a lamppost

one of the first orders of business when I get my paycheck: invest in new feet covers.

Flesh eating, possessed, and watching your every move

Caught this in the display window at Zara on Oxford St. Seriously, I could imagine two possible favorable scenarios for this display to be effective, both disturbing:

A. Pale Middle-aged woman: "Wow my son LeDouche would look so classy and handsome and cute in that woven cardigan and charcoal khakis! Just like a little stylish freak-migit who wandered off an Osh Kosh photoshoot"
B. Pasty Spoiled little boy: "MOM! I got to have that new merino wool scarf! Look at the sequins! Its totally the rage this season! And I need new pants! Everyone at boarding school has trim, ball-hugging cuts like those emo indie tights!"

I have no idea how these creepy, ghostly-looking migit things can pull customers in. But like hell, it works apparently. Store was packed.

ah the smell of uneccessary consumerism for its own government-tradition sake

So, nothing much has changed regarding the holidays for me over here: They still decorate and shop here, and I don't miss or enjoy any of it, really. In my opinion, the streets would be just as interesting and more economically and ecologically friendly without the decorations, lights, and ice rinks -- I mean, it hails over here already as is, kids can pretend that its snow, cant they? (sarcasm. not really)

Also, there would be a lot more art fairs, shows and gigs going on if promoters and managers felt safe knowing that most people weren't spending most of their time AND MONEY buying stuff people dont need (and more often than not, don't want) so that people can pretend they feel cared for, wallets can be relieved of their weight, and shops and corporations can bathe and swim in money.

Well, you may ask, why does the grinch take pics of these things along with every other point-and-snap tourist on Oxford St? Because they do make a pretty picture.

light finally shining

Finally, a way to pay the rent, food, and hopefully enough left over to experience the city I flew to the other side of the world to explore. Its minimum wage, and a temporary holiday worker at a retail chain, but shoot, at this point, even THAT was very difficult to get.

in case you didnt know, moved into my new room a while ago

post-rain-ride outfit and smirk. My bed has the cheapest mattress and coils (its like a cotton sheet wrapped around coils...need to pad it with a comforter and my sleeping bag) but at least the frame is twin XL....so that means my feet barely make it within the edge of the bed.

I havent shared a room in so long, nor have i felt like I've been living out of my suitcase for such a period. I have the basics and essentials: bed, desk, desklamp and an entertainment unit we use as a dresser.

The cool thing about the city is that you'll find free art lying around in stacks, or even have people handing it out to you on the streets. My wall is decorated with free stuff only -- flyers, posters, programmes and exhibition brochures. I wonder what everyone else does with this stuff...its a lot of printing and paper...

Across the street from Tate Britain

a note on architecture

Everything about London is historic: the culture, the sites and the sights, the city and especially the buildings. So much of the city is very much classic -- sometimes crumbling, boarded up, or peeling, but it is a glimpse into the past, as evident by popular architecture walks that go on in the city (might have to do that soon). There is a HUGE amount of restoration and maintenance work going on, despite the "credit crunch/economic crisis/pre-recession." For example, you may remember my post on St. Pancras Station a while back (The photos were dark and dodgey, but I've made it a point to head over on a clear weekend day -- really a sight). Well, that monolithic palace-ish station has been undergoing an 800 million GBP redevelopment project.

And it's not uncommon to see many classical and old pieces of architecture being restored or renovated all around the city. It's like all of london is a museum, and the mayors and building managers and architects are the curators and restorers. Sure, there's some good examples of modern and post-modern and minimalist architecture here (which is all VERY easy to draw and create, apparently, in comparison to traditional styles). However, it really seems like the old stuff is always left standing or reconditioned or being reupholstered or something -- Like an architect is more of a janitor than a creator over here. Old buildings from flats to halls to churches are all ancient, and are either falling apart, taped/boarded up, or retrofitted at the first floor with the familiarity of modern shops and places of commerce and consumerism, as indicated in the photo above.

wow...Samantha got some work done

New shoes; Exfoliation/Skin bleaching; manicure; hair did.......bombshell

When I find a really good shot, its often in a really weird place --

and I have to do acrobatics, calestheics, or ballet-poses to get them.

Commercial St. Tesco's