house

I am sitting back at the command center. The air dancing inside is brisk. I had no idea summers were this cool toward the end of august in Europe. The city hums. It vibrates with life.  The engines of cars pulsating through the street. Voices ricocheting off of buildings.  having an open window not only lets you hear the city but you also taste it. I taste the cigarettes wafting in and I taste the food being prepared in the cafe directly below me.  When i am at the flat I spend 50% of my time here. It is the room with the most natural light so I eat here and it is where I connect to the outside world so I sit here for that too. The only time I am not sitting here is when i am sleeping. This place is far too big for me. There is so much space that goes unused, and during the day I am hardly here. But then again I think that part of the reason that I spend so little time here is that I don’t really feel like this my house even though I am renting. I feel like a house guest…even more than if it was a hotel. Like, this furniture means something to the owner. The house is filled with memories and and they aren’t mine. While a hotel is also a cabinet of memories they house the memories of faceless strangers. This place has pictures of the family. Keep sakes strewn across the walls. I just feel odd. I feel like I shouldn’t be here in this house. Like I broke in. It is strange living somewhere and owning nothing. Not even the dishes. Nothing but the clothes on my back and this electronic window to the outside world is mine. Totally bizarre.

Quick Recap of Graff event

Field notes Converted to Blog Notes.

Hip hop did not die…it just moved to Berlin.

Break dancers really like making gestures about ejaculating

Now I understand why there is an all womens graff jam

Rap in german just sounds unpleasant

Seeing the graff battle and seeing people timed while doing a throw-up reminds me of that scene in I’m Gonna Get you Sucka where they time people thieving from a car.

Funny how security people are always brown no matter what country you’re in

NY caps are most popular 2nd is Chicago White Sox…surprising. Go New Era. and Globalization.

Everyone still loves DA Bulls.

I have never thought that the smell of spray paint could be overpowered…I was wrong…smelled good.

Seeing a little graff kid walk up to a “legend” and asking him to tag his black book was really precious.

Kid in the Red Pants

Maybe one of the reasons neon and bright colors  have come back in such a big way  is that it is a response to our generation’s collective feeling of marginalization.  Perhaps we as a generation feel lost and ignored and want to be seen or (scene??) and therefore are drawn to clothes that speak for us.  Perhaps we use red denim to speak because we are losing our capacity to “you know like kinda sorta” make a declarative statement in this era of txt speak and emoticons?

Off to the graffiti Jam.

My life Blah blah blah

My life:

Interviews.

Getting lost.

Using ice cream and greasy food as a substitute for Nicotine

Painting

Skating…thereby realizing I am old(er)

Having no idea if I am budgeting correctly.

Pining for a special someone.

Growing a beard

lots of PBJ and pasta

Sternburg export…60 cent beer.

Ipod making the uhappy face.

Realizing tattoos are the universal “don’t fuck with me” siginifier. great protection

walking on egg shells in my apartment cause my landlord is a nut.

Reading about sex workers.

Ny times…hipsterrunoff…fecaface…naimasnook…stealthysecrets

My Ipod iz DEAD…almost

I was really excited to meet the day’s events with a soundtrack.  I had it all planned. A little Cash, some Modest Mouse, maybe even a little My Bloody Valentine to cap things off. But to my dismay I was never able to make it through.  Actually I had nothing to do with it. In fact, the blame falls on Apple, and what I suspect is their scheme to force you buy new equipment. I swear that their devices have a built in self-detonator to fuck up in two years time.  An Apple product (ipod really) lasting longer than that is Mission Impossible (a funny…cause in that movie things self-destruct).  Recently, as in today and a few days prior, mine has been cramping up.  It will play, and then suddenly (while fully charged) will freeze.  Nothing i do can defrost it. So it just lays there paralyzed until the battery runs out.  It is like seeing a loved one in a coma.  You know the parts are still moving but you cannot get any kind of response.  This is that much more frustrating and frightening because this new computer has 0 tunes on it. Yes it has some new techno bangers, but none of the classics. No modest mouse, no pavement, no elliot smith. Worse, my little i touch also has none of these alternative gems.  If the big Kahuna dies, I will be left musically destitute half way across the world from my hard drive.  I think if that day comes…wait who am I kidding…when that day comes I am going to suffer a minor break down.  The kind of break down one experiences when seeing a pet pass or a grandmother.  This ipod is more than some technological device.  It is medication. It is comfort. It is company. The count down begins. How long, who knows…

Man on the Subway with an AXE

Subway design does not lend itself to airflow. In fact everytime i am one way i pray that sylvester stallone is vaca’ing in the area just in case a tunnel should collapse and I need to be rescued before the air dries up. So think how it must of felt to sit next to someone who actually thinks that axe will get you girls.  More is not always better bub. And Newsflash the absurb amount of body spray you are wearing is not going to get you ladies unless you count rendering them unconscious from the fumes “pulling.” And ps. that is not consent.  Jesus.

Export

Wonderful progress made on the research front today.  Painting sesh with some prolific Berliners. Interviews, flicks, and unforgetable moments on a roof. The burner that these three women did will be upped tomorrow. I am saving a bunch of other flicks for the publication.

In other news.

I am dreading my landlord? coming tomorrow. Every once and a while he “stops by for a day or two stay. I am just not looking forward to not being able to  just laze around in my boxers while listening to ITUNES U and eating my cereal in the morning. I think I am going to try to spend as much time out of the house while he is here. Not cause he is a bad fellow. Just cause I don’t want to be bothered.

I think I would feel weird having video chats with the rents when he is around. Sigh. Plus I just dont want to feel pressured to do anything. Like dishes. Whatevs, how about another beer then.

Death By Pop…The United Nation of Hipster

I went to this club tonight http://www.myspace.com/deathbypop I think the club is called Bang Bang. Here are some thoughts:

1.) Flannel does not have a very good cool exchange rate. While my flannel is a hipster staple across the pond, my checkers here did not get me check’d out. On the contrary the dude at the door was reluctant to let me in. Then again it could also be the fact that I have given up the skinny jeans. Biggots. Whatever the gal I was with was on the list and so she talked some sense into hombre.

2.) In this blogging digital age there is no such thing as regional specific music. I went expecting to hear things I never heard, but what gets played? Le tigre, Digitalism, bloc Party, Does it offend you yeah?, and a bunch of other jammies I am pretty familiar with. Every now and then I had a “oh my god who the fuck is this I need this” moment. But for the most part it was a bunch of same old. Which now that I think about was kind of nice. I mean this way I don’t have to only go to mcDonalds when I need a taste of the familiar I can pay a 3 euro cover (cause I am not on the list) and dance.

3.) If you want to dance like a hipster you must:

A.) do the carleton from Fresh prince

B.)Pretend you have some kind of twitch Epilepsy is extra cool

c.) Pretend you are the kid from Dazed and Confused and pick one part of your body and keep touching it. Most popular move is the wipe the bangs one.

D.) Mock dancing.

4.) Today made it crystal clear I can resist smokes. Here I am awkward in a new place in a club with some beer in my system. I am hipster leaning against a wall surrounded by smokers and the strokes come on. It was the perfect time to light up. But I didn’t. One day at a time.

5.) I am not made for the club scene. I mean I had fun. I like to dance and all. But I felt like I was living a very particular modest mouse lyric or something…in addition I am far to tepid for such a cool place. So like Delaware, it was nice to see but I am going home.

Sunday I transcribe notes and upload flicks. Tomorrow I read about sex work.

Final Destination

While interviewing at the Graffiti shop, I was asked to move a bench. I did. 20 minutes later a part of the balcony from 2 stories up came crashing to the ground..colliding with exactly the same spot I would have been had I not moved. I cheated death. Final Destination.

People that Don’t get racism…and Yeah i like the OC

So I have been getting a lot of responses to my posts on the movie Hancock (and when I say a lot I mean like 3). It seems a lot  of people (again like 3) think I am “reading too much into the film.” Well people, this is what i gotz to say;

I am NOT completely sorry you don’t get it. At least this way I am guaranteed to have a job in the future. See, as long as people don’t get it my AAS and WGS (african american studies and women and gender studies respectively) majors are worth something. As long as you don’t get it my ability to talk about racism, sexism, classism, and every other ism will be worth something.  It is kind of like how Superman needs lex luther. I need people like you. i need you to look at a movie and just be like “yo, who cares, it is just  a movie…i mean will smith is in it and he made millions so how can it be racist…yo stop taking yourself so seriously…yo your accusations about white people are the racist things” so I can write books explaining why you are totally IN THE FUCKING DARK! So yeah, thanks.

On another note. I love the OC. Only because it provides brilliant fodder for gender and racial readings and because Ryan Atwood always knows exactly when to leave a scene. God I wish I knew how to just drop some knowledge and walk away. I have a tendency of staying around too long. But Ryan, man, he always just says the right thing…makes you think, and then just walks away. I am going to try this. I am going to try to be terse and to just say a few words and peace. We will see how this translates to Berlin…maybe it is a west coast thing. Time will tell.

Anyway expect an analysis of the OC sometime soon.