stuff white people like

unpaid internships.

“you earned it.”

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avenging narwhal

this is so sad and so funny:

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the bench project, mexico city

(repeat post from transpacific sketch project)

when i think "community" i don't typically think of a bench. but it makes so much sense. sitting with someone: perhaps the simplest form of community that becomes, in so many ways, another form of communion.

the bench project's exhibition begins with a lovely poem by eduardo lagagne (forgive my shoddy translation):

Here the desire, the illusion,
here the dreams.
Here the search,
the confession,
the intimate silence.

Here the indecision,
here the tremors, fears, questions,
the lover’s response, here.
Here hands are given,
a suggestive kiss.

So far the city
limits the noise.
Here, then, is peace,
a kiss,
a hug.

Here us,
nobody else,
us.

...and then the benches--they are gorgeous, celebratory, odd, and lovely...

"Ya no hay lugar" (There's no place anymore) by Leonora Carrington.

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and childhood came flooding back

my cousins and i watched this probably 5 times a day one summer. still amazing. "ROCKYYY!"


no words needed to explain how awesome this is.

and of course there's this: http://youtube.com/watch?v=SDM1km6BAQs&feature=related

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most amazing news clip

(I posted this on transpacific sketch project but wanted it to be at home here, too.)

I found this clip a few weeks ago and have been thinking about it ever since. One day I will write a poem about this crown and the mistress.

Nepal's Monarch Departs
Deposed King quits palace forever; but an elderly mistress stays

KATMANDU, NEPAL | Nepal's deposed king gave up his crown of peacock feathers, yak hair, and jewels Wednesday and left his palace forever [...] but a remnant stayed behind: the 94-year-old mistress of the deposed monarch's grandfather, who died more than a half-century ago.

Few Nepalis knew of the mysterious elderly woman's existence until authorities announced Wednesday that she would be allowed to continue living in the palace. The reason: the youngest mistress of King Tribhuwan, who ruled the Himilayan kingdom from 1911 until his death in 1955, has no house to move to or relatives to take her in.

BINAJ GURUBACHARYA (AP)

and this, this is that amazing crown:



I want whole books and paintings and murals made about this story!

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narwhal shout out!

bless my love for you for interviewing the charming and quirky michael hsiung. this was the best Q&A:

My Love: speaking of horns, let's talk about how great unicorns and narwhals are. you go first.

Michael: unicorns and narwhal are definitely magical. i have several printed pages from the "internet" on them. where do I begin? in john ashton's curious creatures he's got a compilation of descriptions given throughout time. there are these great descriptions of how unicorn horn's possessed healing powers or how they have been seen to jump off cliffs (and land on their horns) to avoid danger. i've illustrated that remarkable feat somewhere. and there's a natural link between narwhals and unicorns of course. sailors were using narwhal horns as proof that unicorns existed. there are several things i love about narwhals. first, that their name derives from Norse "corpse" which was given to them due to their coloration and fondness for swimming upside down. how the horns are one large tooth? how we had one in captivity and it couldn't survive? god, and the fact the males rule their horns together? the list goes on and on.

funny how this will be my longest response of the whole interview, huh. okay, you're turn!

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How to Become A Fruit Tart Girl

It turns out that one single mention of "feeling like fruit tarts instead of chocolate cakes" gets you branded as a chocolate snubber for the rest of your days at the office. Last week, AKA "Birthday Week", my coworkers asked what kind of cakes I liked. In my head danced a delectable vision of a neatly crimped, slightly savory pie crust with a cool, honey-flavored filling, topped with decadent--one might even say bounteous, but please don't as it might incite my gag reflexes--mountains of summer fruit. It was 95 degrees outside with a humidity factor of, oh, 300%. A heavy chocolate cake just didn't seem like it would do the trick. So I said that exact phrase mentioned above.

My coworkers looked shocked at my decision. "Oh! We never figured you for a fruit tart girl..." said with such crest-fallen expressions I had to laugh. Plus the euphemism ("fruit tart girl"?) was too good to pass up. So lunchtime rolls around and they present me with this absolutely gorgeous Georgetown Cupcake (best cupcake in this town)lemon cupcake filled with zest, smothered in cream cheese frosting, crowned with a tiny sugared lemon peel. Holy Hannah, it was like being translated on the spot.

When my manager got back from vacation we ordered the real Furin's cakes (also delish). I probably didn't help to dispell my chocolate hating rumor by ordering the strawberry shortcake and shunning the chocolate cake with: "That looks divine--I just can't eat any of it..."

So it came as a surprise when this morning one of my coworkers called me to the front with promises of sweet love in the form of dark chocolate (for the record, I would eat, weep, and breathe dark chocolate if it were possible). I thought--wow the tide has really turned on this chocolate embargo! Sure enough, she had a little mound of chocolates weeded out from the box. When I looked at them I saw they were wrapped in foil with neat orange stickers. "Here, try the orange ones." "Oh," I said, "these look delish!" (they did). "I mean, we didn't like them--they're filled with fruit--but I know you'll love them!" It was so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell them there is no way that I would touch a piece of dark chocolate tainted with that nasty fake orange pulp with a ten foot pole. I smiled and said: "Thanks! Mmm, I love oranges!"

I've basically become Ryan. A Georgetown Cupcake to whoever can make up the best lyrics for my personal shame, i.e., branding:

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