Signage Mystery

Sarah and I have been living in this house for nearly three years, and I'm surprised it's taken me this long to talk about (and photograph) the old signs under my basement stairs. I initially thought they were hand painted, but upon closer inspection, they looked like they were screen printed.
I should hit up Christian Cassidy and see if he knows anything about these signs.
I've got a few more shots here.

Sittin' On Busted Safety Glass

Consider my mellow now harshed. 

After attending the Mayer Hawthorne DJ set on Friday at the Pyramid Cabaret, I had the displeasure of seeing the driver's side window of my wife's Honda Fit busted open. Having talked to a few people about this incident, it's apparent that being the victim of a smash n' grab is an unfortunate rite of passage in this city. That kinda eases the pain, but only a little. Naturally, I blamed myself for what happened, and you can't tell me one fucking thing that I haven't already told myself:

Well, why'd you park so far away from the venue, dumbass?
Shit, I dunno. it was a nice night, and I anticipated a frenzied parking situation, so I parked a block away. Is that a fucking crime?  

It's your own got-damn fault for leaving your backpack in the back seat.
First of all, fuck you. Second, am I the only person in history that's left something in a car with the thought that mankind wouldn't mess with it? No. 

Shit like that has been playing in my head for the past 24 hours. They took the RCA cord that we plug our respective iPhones in with, and the also absconded with the cig lighter charger for said iPhones. Really shitty, but somewhat inexpensive to purchase again somewhere down the line. What really stings here is twofold:
The price of getting the window fixed. Don't get me started. This is a very unwelcome addition to the financial bullshit we've had to deal with this year.
My backpack. Gone. Along with my favorite drawing utensils and my barely-used sketchbook. I'd rather they kicked me in the balls instead.

October 4th, 2010: My backpack and its contents at the time. 

As I've told others, I'm past the emotional point of white-hot hatred and have settled into a begrudging acceptance with a healthy dash of brooding. Right now, I'd pretty much give anything to have the sketchbook and drawing stuff back. The sketchbook is where I kept notes and drew ideas. Yeah, I can think of more stuff, but that doesn't change the fact that I feel violated. At any rate, if you happen to stumble upon it, it looks like this:

 
I'd just like it back, no questions asked. Thanks.

Lookin' That Gift Horse In the Mouth

Top: March 2nd. Bottom: March 11th.

Coming off the wackest (unseasonably warm, that is) winter in my memory, we're dealing with a late March that feels like mid-spring. It doesn't make a got-damn lick of sense. However, just like when I was confronted with a piss poor winter wonderland, I'm choosing to embrace the situation rather than complain. I'm not whining about the thawed dog shit, or bitching about the garbage that the snowbanks hid. The day I took the picture on the bottom, I drove to my son's daycare with the window down and the tunes blaring, observing the city's early renewal with pleased eyes.

Whether it's winter to spring, or winter to spring, I see Winnipeg in a new light and at a different angle. As mid-sized as we are, I always see something new. That's kinda what keeps me here.

With all that said, I will look that gift horse in the mouth and remember that global warming brought us here. All I can do is recycle, conserve energy, and pray that things will get a little (or a lot) better by the time my son is a man. I'd kinda like Dante to know what a real Winnipeg winter feels like.

In the meantime, I might put some music in my ears and walk 150 pounds off in this weather. You never know.

PechaKucha Night Vol. 6

Photos by Adrian J. K. Shum. Nice work, dude!

Last Thursday, I had the honor of being part of the sixth event of Winnipeg's PechaKucha Night. If you're unfamiliar with the concept and origin of PechaKucha, this right here will get you up to speed.
I spoke on the topic of procrastination, which ended up being rather cathartic for me.

Death By Popcorn

 

There's still much speculation about what's gonna go down with the Atlanta franchise. In the meantime, let's watch this film that satirically documents the last days of the Jets. L'Atelier National du Manitoba are the cultural archivists behind this.

So, the Jets are back.

Maybe. It's not official yet. Right now, the faithful are at Portage and Main, having a good ol' time and diverting buses. Apparently, an announcement may be made on Tuesday.
If the Thrashers relocate to Peg City, cool. I can't get mad at NHL hockey. I'm just tired of my fellow denizens getting jerked around. Well, my fingers are crossed.

The other question on people's minds should be: what are they gonna name 'em? Will the Jets monicker be slapped on 'em? Or will they still be the Thrashers? Also: will we see a brand new logo emerge, and will it get reviewed by Armin Vit?

(cross-posted at Mr. Lorde Should Be Drawing)

The Lytics Tour Send-off Poster

This turned out better than I thought it would. Maybe I say that too much, but it's true!
At the last minute, I decided not to draw a bird wearing a fitted at the bottom of the poster (I've been thinking about how dope 123Klan's work is, and that would've been too much of a nod to them for my taste).
I think I made the right decision. Click the poster for the link to its Flickr page, which has info on the performers.

Quintron & Miss Pussycat - June 27th, 2010

A terrific show that not enough people saw, which kinda pisses me off. Whatever.

Wynrush, soso, and Bowen Poster

I'm really happy with how this turned out. My new neighbourhood provided the necessary inspiration.

GIVEAWAY!

The Epson color printer that used to be mine.

It's Giveaway Weekend! There's something fascinating about watching folks go through stuff that used to be yours. Before putting this printer out on the corner, I placed a box of assorted stuff out there first. Two people walked off with stuff while I watched from the second floor landing. That right there is tailored entertainment value. One of the two people came back for the printer, and I decided to stop watching until dusk. We'll see if there's anything left!
Best part? Two turkey-shaped items (a salt shaker and a napkin holder) = GONE.

This was prefaced by joining a long-ass lineup for a discounted compost bin and a rain collector across from Silver City Polo Park. Both are now in our living room.

Stop Draggin' My Heart Around

You have to admire his passion. Taken Sept. 11th, 2006.

I love this city to death, and I hate to see it get jerked around.
Minutes ago, I checked out today's lead story in The Winnipeg Free Press', and it seems that one more hurdle may have been cleared in the fight to keep the Coyotes in Phoenix for one more season. Fine, I say. If the whole buyer thing works out, great. Bettman's hard-on of stubborness is intact. Good on ya, Gary.

I just hate hearing the press jump on every rumor regarding the possibility of our long-lost Winnipeg Jets returning like the Prodigal Son. Truthfully, I'm not sure if that simile is appropriate, but it sure does sound good. Anyway, I just feel bad for folks in this city that get worked up over faint hope. The whole situation is some sort of open wound that forces outside of this town love to thrust a few fingers in for kicks. They love it when we squirm in the form of grassroot movements to fetch our team back from the indifferent Sun Belt.

And what about the Moose? Yeah, you remember them, right? I feel for those motherfuckers. Be real, y'all: the Moose are totally the jilted second wife in this mess. She knew Winnipeg and the Jets were tight, but the breakup was bitter, and she'd do anything to make him forget. The thing is, ol' Winnipeg never got over The Franchise, even though she crossed the border, changed her name and hooked up with Phoenix. Winnipeg got drunk every few years and openly pined for The Franchise, sending ill-advised texts and nude photos, all the while assuring wife no. 2 that everything was on the up n' up.

It's 4:58, and I've clearly gone too far with this metaphor. This post was just an elaborate ruse to use that photo.

Among The Decade's Best

Gritty goodness.

Last month, I was asked by Stylus editor Jenny Henkelman to write about my favorite local rap release of the decade (hey, y'all can yell in my ear all you want about how the decade will actually end when 2011 hits...life's too short to care about that). Without hesitation, I told her that it was John Smith's Pinky's Laundromat, and I'd be happy to write about it. For those of you that aren't near enough to the city to pick up a copy of the December/January issue, here's what I jotted down:

The best MCs have the ability to tell a vivid story. In John Smith's Pinky's Laundromat, you get 13 of those, touching upon themes like sex, drugs, violence, hard times and love. There aren't enough good rap concept albums, and Smitty ties the affair together via his interactions with the patrons of the titular laundromat. Unlike many rap album skits, there's no need to skip these, as they never cease to be entertaining, and they're breezy enough to not wear out their welcome.

For me, this album marks where Smitty found his voice and true rhythm. Where he'd previously cram a lot of info one line, here he paces himself and weaves compelling tales about crackhead pot dealers ("Taxicab Confessions"), aggressive short-order cooks ("Iron Chef") and less-than-lovely lovers ("Bumpin' Uglies"), all within the confines of this fine city, particularly the North End. My favorite track: "Bible Belt Babylon", a moody ode to Peg City on par with Nas' "N.Y. State of Mind". It's that dope.

Not only is this a great lyrical achievement for Smitty, but unending kudos also goes to mcenroe – the album's producer – for providing the gritty sonic landscape.

Up-and-coming rappers should aspire to make something this good.

You can purchase Pinky's from Peanuts and Corn directly, Phonographique, eMusic, or iTunes (if you're a Canuck, you can see the five-star review I gave it, where I also compared "Bible Belt Babylon" to "Streets of New York". I still stand by that).

Welcome to My World

View Larger Map

Thanks to Google Street View, you can see some of my favorite spots in town, including the one above. You might have seen some of the pictures I've taken of the place.
On Friday nights, Sarah and I can be found here, more often than not:

View Larger Map

Man, I love this thing!

Random Thoughts: October 5th, 2009 – Wedding Anniversary Edition

Taken in the RRC Downtown Campus Atrium, October 4th, 2008.
Photo by the superawesometerrific luckygirl.ca.

• October 4th, 2008: I married the love of my life on this day, and I'm still the happiest man on earth. I seriously couldn't have found a better lady to spend my life with. I'd like to give a shout-out to all of our family and friends that shared that our wonderful day (and kick-ass weather). Our slightly-delayed thank you cards are comin'!
• TV-less existence: Over three years ago, I canceled the television portion of my cable service. Truthfully, I'm surprised I didn't write anything substantial about that at the time – believe me, I searched – as it was a hard decision to make, as I was the dude that put TV above everything growing up.
  I was obsessed. I made myself a new Saturday morning viewing schedule every Fall. Remember when the major networks aired specials to announce the new cartoon series? I'd be right there, glued to the screen. And as a wrestling fan, there was a glut of programming available for me, and I watched it all; UWF, WWF, AWA, Stampede, etc. Hell, I even watched Memphis and WCW stuff via scrambled signal, as there was no way Mom was gonna shell the bucks out for more channels.
  Fast forward to September of 2006. TV was boring me, and I was broke. So, I gave it some thought...and gave Shaw a call. The day after, I listened to the first day of the Ring Cycle on CBC and never looked back. Actually, that's a lie...if I'm watching TV, it's at Sarah's parents, or if we're away (like Japan, eh?). I do kind of miss it, really. However, I get a lot more done now, even though the internet has taken up the distraction slack. Curse you, Google Reader. And Twitter. And other web-based distractions.
  
• Overhaul. Some changes need to come to this here blog. Mainly cosmetic. I've been experimenting, so we'll see what happens.
• Technological Update: Yes, I haven't posted any Japan photos, but I will...as soon as I get my iMac repaired (audible sigh). Things have been acting up, so I'm taking it to my man Brian at Powerland for a look-see. On the flipside, I recently purchased a 2 TB Western Digital MyBook for essential back-ups. Peace of mind means me putting up pictures soon. We'll see what develops. In the meantime, here's something I did manage to upload: the logo for UWSA's Freestyle III.

I loved doing this. The kids involved in the program were terrific. Shout-out to Ted Turner and Pip Skid for getting me involved. Here's the non-dated color and grayscale versions.

Journalizing Japan: Home

So yeah, we're back. Mixed emotions, as expected. As great as it is to be home, I'd give anything to be back in Japan...at least another week. I'll get to posting the photos as soon as I can. There are many.

Birthday #34

Me and my new Dakota hoodie (thanks, Mumzy!).

I'm not much of a birthday dude. For me, they serve to mark how far I have to go, and how much I've fucked up, and my impending mortality. Yeah, leave it to me to be positive.
However, I'm fully aware that I'm blessed, and you can't tell me otherwise:

• I've married my best friend, a woman that truly changed my life for the better.
• My mom rules, even when we don't see eye-to-eye, which is rarer nowadays.
• I was born and raised in Winnipeg, that perennial underdog of Canadian cities. There are times when this place drives me crazy*, but I can't think of a more nurturing environment be from. Anytime I think of leaving (there have been many), it's the little things about Peg Gritty that draw me back.
• Speaking of Winnipeg, thanks to this place, I know what community is all about. Just by stepping outside, I'm bound to run into rappers, members of killer rock n' roll combos, painters, film buffs, writers...all of whom I'm connected to not because of the possibilities of personal upward mobility, but because we just want to make cool shit and a little bit of sense in this crazy-ass world. And we genuinely like and /or love each other. And we're sexy. Because of the cold-ass winters.
• Through gigposters.com, I've been taught things that college couldn't. The site has given me the eyes and ears of the most talented people on the planet, which has pushed me to be a better illustrator and designer. And in the case of certain assholes that have hung out there, past and present, I'm also a better human being. Eternal props to you, Clay, for giving a place to hang out and learn something.

So yeah, even though it doesn't always sound like it, I'm thankful to be alive. Thanks to you.

* To see what I mean, y'gotta visit Winnipeg: Love and Hate, run by Bryan Scott. Unflinching admiration/condemnation for the place I call home via breathtaking photography.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Be safe, be sexy.

Soured on Shopping

The checkout line-ups sucked balls.

For the sake of your sanity, don't shop at the St. James location of Superstore during the weekend. I'm a patient man, for the most part, but the patrons of this place makes me want to maim. People won't move, look out for you...hell, some of them don't even know you're there! They're either on their cell phones or wandering zombified in the bread section (that was Sarah's experience today).
Next time, we gotta go during the week, and early. I can't help but lose faith in humankind here on weekends.

It's here, and it's staying.

The Polo Park Canadian Tire parking lot. November 7th, 2008, 7:17 PM.

If you're a Winnipeg denizen, you're well aware that God hit us off with snow in one fell swoop. Not the usual single snowfall, followed by several days of puddles and brown streets. Nah, man...a day of freezing rain/snow and a day of constant snowfall.

I have an unabashed love for several things, and one those things is snow. In fact, I'm rather vocal about it. Winnipeg is far sexier in my eyes when it's covered in it. A night sky over the Exchange District obscured by blowing snow, when mixed with the amber lights of the streets makes my heart soar. I can't explain it. A newly-dusted Wolseley area street in the wee hours of the morning? You can't fuck with that.

Wanna harsh my mellow? Start bitching about the weather. Go ahead, you big whiner. Seriously, how long have you lived in this city? Barring uncharacteristically mild weather, this happens every fucking year. C'mon, buck up, princess. Put on a got-damn scarf or something.
Then, there are the folks that whine about the weather AND threaten to go somewhere warmer. That's funny...you're still here. What's stopping you? What, is it a money thing? I'll help you save cash. We'll start with me slapping that stupid latte outta yer hand and demanding a refund.

Anyway, take that last bit with a grain of salt. You have every God-given right to complain. I, of course, don't have to listen. And I won't.

Unconditional Corgi Love!

This is my piece for the newly launched Winnipeg 'zine, A Paw In My Face, founded by my man Chris Pointon and Meagan Radford.
Those of you in Peg City can get yerself a copy from these spots:

Osborne Village
Starbucks, Kustom Kulture, Urban Waves, Second Cup, Music Trader

The Exchange District
The Fyxx, Mondragon, Connect Four, Art Space building, Into The Music, Mulberry Art, Underground Café

also...
The Fyxx on Broadway
Cousins Deli (Wolsely)
The Park Theatre (Osborne)
McNally Robinson Books (Grant Park) West End Cultural Centre

This issue's topic? LOVE.

Why a corgi? Because they're so cute!
If I could find the cutie I used for reference, I'd link it up, 'cuz I found it on Flickr.

Now, if you ain't from here, you can read the whole thing here.