Tag: friends

I’m going closing night

Some friends of ours are starring in Spectral Theater’s new play, The Velvet Edge. (Read: Duncan Shields and Erin Puckey).

Held at The Chapel, 304 Dunlevy, the same funeral-home-now-arts-venue that the Carnival of the Arts was just at, it’s got a cast of nearly twenty, the guarantee of at least one flawlessly hot girl, Naomi’s costumes are without-fail incredible, and there’s both nudity and blood. How awesome is that?

“An English novelist comes to an asylum to hear the story of one inmate who, after a journey into the decadent heart of 18th century France, was charged with the murder of his wife, but committed due to his presumed insanity. As the inmate recounts his bizarre and terrifying descent into debauchery and madness, the audience is drawn into the scenes of his past. Could his delusions be in fact, a terrifying reality?”

Tickets are $20, which is steep, I know, but Duncan, who is in it and should know, claims, “This is going to be an adult theater show at adult theater prices. This isn’t schlocky horror. It cost a lot to put on and it’s a visual spectacle. It’s worth every penny of the $20. People are going to be talking about this one for a while.”

November 5th – 6th & 8th – 15th

Tickets $20 (minimum donation)

Doors at 7:30 PM Show at 8:00 PM

Written by Blake Drezet and Directed by Des Hussey & Blake Drezet

Warning: Coarse language, scenes of violence, suggestive scenes and nudity.

Reserve your tickets by calling 604.569.2013, e-mailing info@spectraltheatre.com or RSVP through Facebook: Nov. 5th Opening Night, Nov 6th, Nov 8th, Nov 9th, Nov 10th, Nov 11th, Nov 12th, Nov 13th, Nov 14th, Nov 15th.

in the same boat

Jordan Neufeld, Ben’s brother responsible for Sticks and Stones, is having an Emergency “Help-Me-Pay-My-Rent-a-Thon”.

To recap: he’s off work on Stress Leave and the insurance company compensation has yet to arrive, so he and his partner Jessica have been living tenuously on her student loan in the meantime, but it doesn’t look like they’re going to have enough money to cover their bills at the end of the month.

How You Can Help:

Pre-order his book the Complete Sticks and Stones Collection 2005-2007, for $12.00 a piece, plus shipping.

“That’s over 200 comic strips packed into a little paperback book. Read a sample of the book here.”


Donate to the Sticks and Stone Hallowe’en Special Marathon!

“… a page of my Sticks and Stones Halloween Special every three hours. It’s going to be full color, so this will be interesting… It will probably take 3-4 days to do 24 pages. I’m planning on sleeping at night for a few hours here and there, but it really will be a marathon. Buy enough books, and you or your comic character could get a cameo.” Start at page one.

.. and Pass It On.

thos wacky airship kids, whatever will they think of next

So this fellow I know, Robert, has this goth band, right, called Abney Park, and they dress up in distressed leather and wear goggles and pretty much represent all sorts of things that are good about Steampunk. Now, and this is where it gets good, Robert has done so well with this niche of a band that they were hired as the entertainment on the maiden voyage of the new commercial Zeppelin that is about to be launched in San Fransisco. All of this is very cool, very net chic, and very, very fun, but my favourite part of this particular gig so far, (as he tells me this is not the best thing, “not just yet, but I have a plan.”) is from the SF Chronicle article:

Please note, as well, that in the article, they describe Steampunk as “Jules Verne meets the Victorian Age”! Memory refresher: Jules Verne, 1828 – 1905. Victorian Age, 1837 – 1901.

In San Fran, no less.

As some of you aware, there’s a initiative measure on the 2008 California General Election ballot titled Eliminates Right of Same-Sex Couples to Marry. It’s called Proposition 8, and it’s the most unfair and hate-filled bit of judicial intolerance I’ve heard of in awhile. As far as I can tell, it’s another example of the last desperate gasp of people who don’t like change, who want time to flow backward, and the world’s progressive trends on equality to hit hard into reverse. No less than the mayor of L.A. and the California Teachers Association and California School Boards Association have donated money to fight it – http://www.NoOnProp8.com

The following video was taken by my friend, musician and writer Meredith Yayanos, who encountered a group of Pro-Prop 8 protesters in Oakland, California. She turned on her camera-phone when the protesters began to assault a counter-protester, a quiet, polite, calm man with an anti Prop-8 sign, as is his right. Unfortunately, that’s when they turned on her.

“Something to keep in mind: when I hit the record button, I hadn’t said a single word to anyone, or interfered in the rally any way. I stood a fair distance away from all of the sign-wavers (remaining at least four feet away from all of them…until they approached me). But as soon as they noticed me filming them, I was greeted with curses and threats of violence. “Get that shit out of here. I’ll knock it out of your hand.” None of these folks knew me, yet they instantly knew they hated me …”

Which soon became, “That’s when she attacked, clawing, grabbing and then shoving. I didn’t fight back; she was much bigger than me.”

I think it’s very important that you press play, read the entirety of her story, which is posted here in her journal, and pass it on.

always finish with dancing cats

Scott writing about Opening For Tricky, “You love a guy’s music for 14 years and a quarter of the conversation you have with him is “LOOK! MY PHONE GOES WOO-WOO!””

Today has been all sorts of determined costume panic, as eBay payment problems proliferated beyond belief. Eventually the place which relisted the one I won while I was having issues with their check-out even offered me a free costume to make up for the hassle, that’s how bad it got. (I told them it wasn’t necessary, as I never managed to actually give them any money, but they’ve insisted, so help me pick one?). The days were running by like a Bukowski novel, all wild horses and too little time, drawn out in sentences that only ended when a gun fired or the sun went down, but a very nice lady somewhere in California completely saved me, and has mailed one overnight to a mail-drop in Point Roberts, which means I’ll have my costume in time for the Parade of Lost Souls, Vancouver’s only Hallowe’en party. Which spares me murdering someone, which I appreciate.

In other news, David and I finally got to spend a nice evening with some of our new neighbors. (Nice, sane, geeky people have been replacing the cracked out addles who riddled the building when I first moved in.) We met them as I was climbing up onto the roof to take a picture of an amazing rainbow that cradled the east yesterday evening. There I was, up a ladder, obviously where I’m not supposed to be, industriously removing the trapdoor padlock, when from behind and below me, someone clears a throat – a situation that could have gone badly. Thankfully, it wasn’t the landlord, but a sweet new friend who took us in for dinner and giggles with his incredible girlfriend until almost midnight. Now I’m extra glad of where I live. We might be holding onto the edge of the Drive by the scraped edge tips of our fingernails, but it’s worth it.

Nagi Noda’s final music video: Precious, for Japanese pop singer Meg.

using a telescope to find pumpkins

The world just got smaller again, Ben just did an utterly smashing cover for one of Pia‘s Dr. Who comics.

She’s actually going through a bit of a rough time right now, a close friend recently passed away from cancer, (she was sending us updates while we were away), so this is especially nice news. Help her out by voting for Y: the last man. I’m hoping soon we can get together again for coffee and ragging on the world, as the world so deserves. Any week now, David and I are planning on hitting up her husband Ian’s “Canadian Content” Urban Improv comedy night over in Kits, (every Monday at the Chivana Restaurant & Lounge), and buying them some commiserating drinks.

Until then, we’re mostly going to be staying in and being poor. David is an unemployed house-husband right now, (he lost his job to come on the trip), and my bank account is running scary low, especially as I may end up catching the entirety of the rent myself in November. I plan on setting up a photography space as soon as there’s room in the house, though, and selling prints for Christmas. I’ve got some concepts already sketched out that I’m really looking forward to bringing into being. Shots with white and red and metal, symmetry and pop. The house is too much of a mid-move disaster to get started, but soon, I’m hoping, soon.

In other news, my Hallowe’en costume is a go. I bought a lion tamer costume off eBay, a little ditty that comes with a corset with tails, (100% of my costume choice motivation right there), which saves me having to make one. I’ve always loved Hallowe’en and making my own costumes, but this year, I just hit a wall. Being back east in cities that actually celebrate Hallowe’en was just too much for me. Now I’m here, I want quick and dirty access to the joy that is dressing up. I don’t want to have to stay up until three in the morning figuring out a pleat, pins in my fingers, chalk in my hair, in a city that just doesn’t really care. I’m done with it. Time to simply give in to consumerism – keep the car running.

Images from Bernie Wrightson’s FRANKENSTEIN

artpost: how awesome is that?

I adore my in-box. This just came in from a sculptor friend of mine, Chris Hausbeck:

046

This coming Saturday, October 18th my assistant Dawn Exton and I will introduce the massive mechanical sculpture ‘Inside Hausbeck’s Head-Keeshen Delight No.9’.

All are invited to join us starting at 5:00 until 10:00 for a reception and close viewing of the mechanism.

This mechanism will propel a 500 lb. clown head to a height of 50 feet out of the top of a 150 year old grain silo on the grounds of Wild Bill’s Nostalgia on rt. 3 in middletown, ct. (map)

We have constructed a giant 1200 lb. device, counter weighted with a twisted ball of steel, bone, glass, wood and implements of destruction rising and falling twelve feet through the floors.

Attached are some images and a more complete story in my flickr set.

install day 097


I sincerely hope all will be able to join us for this monumental event and help celebrate this amazing sculpture.

Cheers, Chris Hausbeck

itinerary-ary-ary

Scientists have discovered the monogamy gene.

“Nature is trying very hard to make us succeed, but nature does not depend on us. We are not the only experiment.” Buckminster Fuller

Yesterday was my sixth month anniversary with David. To celebrate, we went for La Cafeteria for breakfast with Michel, picked up the now-fixed polished aluminum deer head we brought for Christine, (a bit of antler broke off in transit), did our laundry, had pumpkin spiced hot chocolate, went for a delicious pick-your-own-pasta dinner, met with Mélanie and Mike Kitt, then for pie with them and Michel, and decided to move in together.

Nice how I slipped that in, hey? So yes, when David and I return to Vancouver this week, no matter that he just moved, we’re moving him again, this time into my place as Karen leaves for Main St. We’ll be a house of two people, two cats, a rabbit, and a library. I’m strangely looking forward to it, even with the pre-knowledge of Just. How. Heavy. His. Book. Boxes. Are. No one’s ever moved in with me before, not really, not for more than a couple of weeks. I’ve always moved in with them, the proverbial them, the lovers, partners, the boys/men. I think it’s going to be interesting, and less of an adjustment than I might suspect.

Today we’re getting on a train to Toronto with the glorious Christine, who last night came home from work dressed as a sexy ninja, because that is how awesome she is. Once there, we’ll be meeting up with my fellow-monarch-in-bad-timing Shane Koyczan, who just happens to be in Toronto this weekend, and painting the town some sort of appropriate colour, as I glory in being home for a weekend.

For the double-plus, Nuit Blance is running this weekend, so the current plan is to hang out glorying tonight and most of Saturday, then spend as much of Saturday night as humanly possible wandering the all night arts festival with Shane and the funtastic duo that is Zaiden, Will and Mellissa, before breakfasting somewhere delicious and catching an early Sunday morning bus west, back towards Vancouver.

day two of three

Traveled 192 km (or 104 nautical miles, as the useful internet tells me), to be stood up, the first time I’d ever been asked to a dance.

Today I’m awake early, nine o’clock or so, and the apartment still throbs with silence. Later, once Qais and Eliza wake up, we will go after breakfast to the Lighthouse Roasters, (400 North 43rd Street), to hang her show. My plans here are vague this time, and tenuous, (as my lack of cell-phone creates oddly empty spaces around me), though right now they mostly revolve around taking a hot shower and scrubbing the accumulation of Thursday and Friday off of my skin. I still have hot-tub water dried in my hair, and a coating of the warm grease of a thousand exhalations from the gallery last night.

It was packed, by the way, a heavy showing with at least a hundred and fifty variously costumed people drifting in and spilling out back out to chat in the relative cool of the sidewalk, like a black, brassy tide of self examining particles, fresh from the internet, fresh to the scene. ANACHROTECHNOFETISHISM was a success. I don’t think any of the organizers expected it to be so popular. Me, I was suprised at how many faces I knew, and, especially, how many people knew who I was. “I’ve seen your pictures, love them!” or, “I’ve never said, but I adore your writing.” Unexpected, that, in this place, my company being the shiny stars of this newly stilted subculture.

I spent the longest time with Tony, a warm friend, who I met once five years ago when he crashed on my couch after SinCity. Facebook reacquainted us, and I hope to see him more, now that we’re back in touch. We walked through the pieces together, telling stories and reaffirming the mythos of past relationships. It was fun. After he left, I mostly drifted, wandering between my local friends and the people Eliza introduced me to. The show went late, to the point of exhaustion, until we dropped into chairs, wilting against the constant influx of new people, an hour after the gallery was meant to be closed. I don’t think we escaped until midnight.