so back to the drawing board…
there will be no more playing inside the scuttle-bug. only on the empty field that is left.
that blasted place, treacherously inviting adventures atop a dark and holey stairwell.
it’s almost as though someone in the city finally had an intelligent idea for progress,
now if only they’d turn it into a garden or something…
unfortunately my pictures of other rob a.k.a rubber toe, a.k.a. lazer beam, a.k.a. lazer toe are not at my disposal here in chelsea. sad. cause they are obviously hilarious.
luckily for the others, i have enough material to sufficiently remind myself of the fun that awaits me in the west. i was asked by ‘the lord’ (a name delineated from jamie c) about what i wanted to do while i’m there. basically from the stories i’ve heard, i’ve concocted a patchwork plan which is somewhere between the daily routine jaime and i used to have and some pretty amusing activities… will we for instance be chased by tumble weeds? will we drink at the country bar below where b and j used to live? to be honest, i’ll be happy with whatever ends up happening, i’m just excited to see everyone again!
i’ve been home for a few days now, and scouring the old computers for something to post. something appropriate has been hard to find. if i didn’t come upon these, i might have resorted to posting embarrassing family photos. luckily i found a few pictures from the raft… 2007, 2008 i’m not sure but that year’s ship was a fine craft. there’s nothing like being woken up before 7am, (assuming you went to sleep) to a maniac tearing up his own front lawn, hot dogs and warm beer served for breakfast. there’s no waiting for nobody when the raft is set to sail. so starts the off-time tribal barrel beats that pound into your skull for hours as we meander down the lazy river. we navigate the rapids, anchor to the covered bridge, scream and yell to all those who have come out to catch a glimpse (of the eye sore that will probably sit in the village for two months before its burnt). the raft everybody… i wonder if she will ever sail again?
a few months ago, i was invited to a free-jazz show (not to be mistaken with a free jazz show) by the lovely, lady josephine. i guess it’s pretty obvious, but lets just she was invited to the birthday party so mr. jazzman could have his cake and eat it too (*if you know what I mean). and what a show it was. if ever you have the opportunity to watch a beautiful woman jump out of a cake, please take it. the party was at the space formally known and loved by my many of us still, 185 Vanhorne, the former BEAR loft. its always bitter sweet going back there, remembering back when it was barely livable, back when there where enormous piles of sawdust everywhere, and how we taught ourselves how to use power tools, build walls with doors, listen to the trains come and go, and we danced and laughed in the big empty space for hours that first night and so many more.
rey took me out for breakfast this morning at le pick-up. it was really good. pretty sure i had a breakfast sandwich on a croissant. is there anything better? anyways, my film always lives too long in the holga, and it gets all light leaky and shit but i guess that the way it goes.
Ben Borden is a texan-turned-montrealer. he tends to live in small spaces–closets serve him just fine. i don’t know this for sure, but i imagine that if you were to visit one of these rooms you may happen upon a glockenspiel, a collection of handsome cardigans, framed oil paintings whose artists are unknown, foreign magazines, various cameras, projectors, and synths in varying conditions, the remnants of modest meals. i imagine it to be an interesting sort of space, a neat choice collection of things… the first image dates back to one of the first times i ever saw ben perform, in the old bear loft, and this picture sums it up, if i remember correctly he played that guitar with a wide variety of things (that may have been found kicking around his room). we’ve been following ben’s musical adventure since he moved to montreal, and you can check out his and david ertel’s latest endevor SOLAR YEAR .
most people will probably think this a joke. but its not. richard rossetto is the character with the teeth. more recently without. if you have lived in montreal for any good amount of time, you probably have met him. we go back a few years now, back to the days of RichHard. back to the days of softball, white russians, scream singing, and pink panties. i hope its okay to talk about the old days. the old days are where its at these days. i suggest you check out his art at rossettoink.com, he’s really good. anyone who is lucky enough to call rich a friend knows what it’s like for someone to have your back. i’ve learned so much from this guy over the years, and i’m truly lucky to call this man a friend. this is the first video i ever made, and it could have been the last. i’d have been happy with that. the cuts are rough, the framing a little crooked, and the final effect speaks to kind of antics i love. enjoy.
once upon a time, in montreal, and in the summer, a few friends met up in an old apartment and set out to have a little fun. as it sometimes is with creative whims, the encouragement of having others around to unravel and roll with peculiar half baked ideas sparks results. the apartment was particularly iconic, in that it had 15foot high ceilings, a second kitchen for us to make an exploding mess in, an antique gas stove and an a old wooden ladder which lead to a
trap-door on the roof. the team, some of whom who have left montreal, were amazing. there were story boarders, directors, technical assistants, special fx people, actors, lovely lunch makers (hold the meal worms) and editor extraodinaire. this film was shot in 2005, and its due time for a sequel i’d say, there’s a new project in the works, so stay tuned.
cast and crew: ben, amy, vanessa, aliya, jessica, victoria, and danny
the photographic image records a moment of beauty divorced from its behind the scenes significance. Where we were, what we did and why is not always important. the pictures testify to something more ubiquitous, to the fact that such places exist, that in certain urban spaces, nature is still raw, eerie and beautiful.
these starving horses and sheep ran over to us in a flash, which is a funny thing to see really– all of their mud encrusted dreaded wool bouncing in the sprint. their hoofs making these hollow little thuds on the mossy pasture. there was a few more images, but something happened to the film. story of my life.
this is one of those one minute, one take, once in a life time directorial experiences.
pretty sure that walmart, or bell, kraft or some corporate clowns just made this same type of video. what this means of course is that i have the same level of artistic know-how in first year video art class as the multi million dollar advertising teams of corporate america…
oh and i forgot to focus the camera which is why its so blurry.
we wake up early to find out that a road-trip is happening that day, a vague plan slovenly made while inebriated the previous night, ‘we’re going to the country‘ was the basic idea. it’s the first day of vacation and so it works out perfectly. first we drive to the south because darryl has to work. its not as nice down there, but almost as far as our northern destination.
no one is home when we get to greg and tibors. it’s raining lightly and the grass is long, shoes and pants won’t fare well we figure so they are left in the car. barefoot through the forest towards water–we know there is a river somewhere in some direction… we follow jan’s giggles and stop to look at red and then white mushrooms that look like they glow in the dark. i took a few pictures. we crossed a foot bridge over the creek, and felt the wood rotting under our feet and give way. at some point, due to our dallying we loose j. j then amy slosh through this tunnel where the creek gives way to the river. jan was already swimming and the fog and rain barely disturbed the mirror image of trees on water. i take what feels like forever so scramble across the rocks, slippery and treacherous. we swim around, sling mud, fight the current for an hour or so– by this point its truly raining hard. so we go back another way, straight up it feels, crab apples and wine, small animal traps, neighbours dogs, barbed wire, forking paths, honey sandwiches, and farm animals…more about this last point coming soon…