Looks like we are back in business, folks. Finally!!
And when I say we, I mean it all figuratively like. As in, we, the musical babies of the age of Aquarius. It's just a test run for now, I guess. But boy, those rainbow colored horizontal blocks sure do make me happy.
Oh hi, by the way... I forgot to go to bed last night.
Belgian artist Wim Delvoye is kinda my favorite thing right now. Let's not discuss how I tapped into his work-- just enjoy!
He also 'saves' pigs from Chinese slaughter houses... to tattoo them. Only to eventually be killed-- then skinned or stuffed to sit pretty in a gallery.
But I guess if I was living on borrowed time, I'd like to be a 'growing painting' too, right?
I am currently fighting back the urge to jump up and down in a frenzied dance panic on my bed.
Why?, you ask.... 2 words, names rather. Matt. Kim. (There's a little & symbol in there somewhere too, but the whole 2 words thing sounds so much more dramatic). Sometimes Brooklyn feels like happiness, and these kids bring it!
(Best shot I got, as I was busy dancing my face off)
The powers that be left a ticket at the door for their Record Release Party at the Music Hall of Williamsburg last night, and I just can't get enough. I'm literally sitting here listening to their new album Grand-- which I'm gonna go ahead and guess is named after their street of residence in good old "East Williamsburg".
I was super excited to find out that Spank Rock was supposed to be a surprise guest, but here's a big surprise-- I missed them bc I was glued to the bar downstairs. Ha! When I finally made my way to the bouncy kick of drum upstairs, I pushed myself thru the jumping crowd to the front of the stage, where I eventually got kicked in the face. Totally expected, as I avoided this scenario at all previous Matt & Kim shows (sounds like McCarren Park, Halloween, etc.), I mean at this point I wouldn't have been surprised if Matt himself jumped into the crowd to specifically kick me in the face. Although, now that I think of it, it might've been him...
I've decided I'm the definition of a hot mess, and these two lovebirds are the epitome of Brooklyn. I mean, c'mon, take a looksy...
If you're living in an industrial neighborhood in Bushwick while there's snow on the ground (like myself), you'll know exactly what he means by 'these shoes are poor man's ice skates', and that's the TRUTH, kid.
