Last night, DeadBoy launched his Under The Influence exhibit at the Don’t Tell Mama gallery (on the Ossington strip), and the exhibit is up for the rest of the month. I would highly recommend checking it out, and buying one of his pieces asap before they’re all snatched up. I’m telling all of you now – in a couple years, his pieces will be selling at Christie’s and Sotheby’s for 6 figures. Mark my words. Buy now! Collector items and they’re fucking gorgeous.
See for yourself:
from his “Adore” series.
this is the one Adore piece that hasn’t hit the streets… yet.
does this piece look familiar? it should.
back in October, Deadboy gave me this piece. it was the very first piece of his i had ever found on the street, and to this day, it is still my favourite and means the most to me. sometimes i get pre-menstrual just looking at it…. stupid girlie hormones. (sniffle).
the piece he’s selling is gold instead of white like mine…. it really makes the image pop and gives it a haunting, antiquated quality to it.
BUY IT WHILE THE PRICE IS LOW!
and speaking of “Madonna,” back in 1983 when she was working the club scene like CBGBs and Danceteria in New York, she briefly dated a then-unknown street artist named….
Basquiat! i think this is my favourite piece at the entire exhibit. it’s an homage to one of the first street artists to change and revolutionize the form. Deadboy actually created this on a door he found! i love found-art! if you know anything about Basquiat when he was a street artist, his tag was “samo” with the crown symbol next to it, which deadboy has incorporated here. Basquiat said that “samo” was in reference to art being “same old same old” but the word also is related to racist language (sambo) used during slavery (and for a century afterwards).
Basquiat influenced his girlfriend Madonna so much, that for a brief time, she engaged in graffiti around new york as well. Her tag was… you guessed it…. “Boy Toy.”
Basquiat eyes. I really really want this door, but I can’t actually USE it as a door because I have a tendency to slam my doors when i’m pissed off (which is often. i have a temper).
“thanks for not voting!”
this one guy showed up at the exhibit and said to me that he found this piece offensive because he’s a card-carrying member of the Conservative party. i said, “really? my condolences.”
the dude then went on and on about how he thinks Canadians abuse the health care system because it’s universal, whereas in other countries where they have to pay for it, they don’t go to the doctor as often. i told him he was talking out of his ass, and that caring for its citizens and ensuring the right to life for every member of society should be the first priority of a government.
he said his taxes were too high because of our universal health care…. to which i replied, “oh of course. who cares about the suffering and disease of other people. all you should care about is your bottom line.”
and he goes, “exactly. i don’t care about other people as long as i’m making money.”
and there you have it folks – this one douche perfectly sums up the Canadian Conservative party in one sentence.
he then got all defensive and was like, “i don’t want to debate my political beliefs!”
and i calmly replied, “you brought it up, dude. i didn’t ask for your political beliefs, you offered up the info to me and started ranting. if you don’t wanna debate it, don’t bring it up.”
opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. and while i respect your RIGHT to an asshole, i don’t respect the shit that comes out of it.
the eponymous piece.
la piece de resistance.
that’s goddamn right. ATHEISM FOR THE WIN!
i’ve been bed-ridden for the past 4 days with a virus that is slow to depart, but i am on the mend (there were some scary moments though, i must admit)…. but a few days before i was a sick weakling with atrophied legs, i went to the Arctic Monkeys/Black Keys concert at the Air Canada Centre. i was lucky enough to get in on the pre-sale for this back in december, and quickly snagged a ticket before it sold out.
frankly, i was more excited for Arctic Monkeys than Black Keys (been a fan of theirs for five years, only been into the keys for two years).
i really am kicking myself for not going to an Arctic Monkeys concert whilst I lived in England, that would have been much better.
normally, i’m not a fan of arena shows. i prefer smaller venues. as you can tell, even though my seats were pretty great, i was still really far from my love Alex Turner….
oh alex…. now that you and alexa chung have broken up, please, can i have your abortion?
there were some people sitting around me who didn’t even know who the Arctic Monkeys were …. i was like WHAT.
they played all my fav tunes… Brianstorm, Crying Lightning, I Bet that You Look Good on the Dancefloor, Fluorescent Adolescent, Leave Before The Lights Come On, Don’t Sit Down Cuz I’ve Moved Your Chair…. but they didn’t play A Certain Romance, Fake Tales of San Francisco, or anything from the Submarine soundtrack. NEXT TIME, i’m going to a concert where they’re headlining, cuz they left me aching for more. stupid opening act slot does not do them justice
and then the keys took the stage
since there’s only two of them, they made sure their set was loaded with spectacle. flashy lights, disco balls, huge video screens, lotsa hullabaloo
they played all my favourites, Gold on the Ceiling, Lonely Boy, Tighten Up, Howlin’ For You, Next Girl… but they didn’t play Have Love Will Travel. WTF?
This is a band that I don’t think necessarily translates well into huge arenas. They can sell out the arenas, for sure, but their music is so intimate and so CBGBs that it feels like a crime to be seated a football field away from the stage….
i made a short video of their encore…. a disco ball dropped from the ceiling, illuminating the entire audience in an ambient light. that reverberation you hear isn’t the drums, it’s the entire ACC audience clapping in time. it was a great moment:) Enjoy!
You probably noticed how I haven’t blogged in a bit. I used to blog once a week, then for the past six months, I’ve been blogging anywhere from six to thirteen times a day. It’s getting exhausting. I still have so many more graffiti and street art pics to blog, but I’m getting a little miffed at how many people are ripping off my photos (I deleted my weekend post ranting about this. It just wasn’t sitting well with me).
Anyway, while I decide the future of The Spadina Monologues, enjoy this amazing article and photospread by the gorgeous Becca Lemire (See! I give cred! SO SHOULD YOU). She attended the Spud gallery show, as did I, and not only photographed the event for She Does The City, but also asked a few choice questions of the guests.
She asked me if I would rather talk to Spud again (I interviewed him for The Grid a couple weeks ago), or if I’d like to talk to Mayor Rob Ford.
GUESS MY ANSWER.
Click here to read the article and find out my answer (along with several others). ENJOY!
(Photo credits: Becca Lemire)
During Love A Heart, me and SOFI (not safi, dammit) and her friend steph were photographed by the event-photography magazine SNAP. I totally forgot about it until I was sent this above pic from the print copy. I must get my hands on that print copy. If you have it, please save it for me!
so i went on the SNAP website and found our photo. I found it odd and annoying that SNAP wanted to charge me $5 for downloading my own face! Luckily, there’s a handy little tool that comes with my PC called “Snipping Tool.” Hey SNAP, you should look into that.
Imma be at CENSORED tonight, the gallery opening of graffiti artist SPUD. It’s at the Don’t Tell Mama gallery at 108 Ossington (2nd floor), and I fink it starts around 7:00ish but I’ll prolly show around 8ish. Oh, and look! Someone has been wheatpasting the show poster all over the city. I WONDER WHO DID THAT.
International Women’s Day (which is tomorrow, March 8th) is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future. This past weekend, there was a protest march in toronto to draw attention to the issues in this city and country that affect women.
i love these events because they show just how informed, organized, and tightly regimented our communities are when it comes to issues that affect not just women, but everyone. Notice how it’s not just women in this march.
they shut down yonge street, and were protected by The Filth (aka the cops), who prevented cars and traffic from getting anywhere near them. while i am grateful that i do live in a city and a country where the right to assemble and to protest is protected, i am still DISGUSTED by how that same right was denied us during the G20 in 2010. That stain will never be removed from the core of Torontonian’s hearts. We will never forget how peaceful protestors were beaten, detained, kettled, and illegally arrested.
“break the cycles, stop the silence, women in jail is state violence!”
“capitalism can’t be fixed – expropriate the banks!”
toronto women’s city alliance.
“free maricon montajes! free all political prisoners in the philippines!”
as we were observing this protest, someone said to me “international women’s day? when is international men’s day?”
and i replied, “EVERYDAY IS INTERNATIONAL MEN’S DAY!”
march 8th and december 6th (national day of remembrance and action on violence against women) must be kept holier than the sabbath.
my birfday clusterfuck was a success! first, it started off with this:
LeVar has always been my homeboy, love that man to bits. Such a nice man and so supportive.
After receiving a whopping 200+ facebook well-wishes and 100+ twitter well-wishes (you guys are the apple of my eye), it was time to make my milkshake bring all the boys to the yard.
aw yeeeeah. blue steel.
andrew is great because he knew next to nobody at this party other than me and quickly became the life of it. he’s pretty chill when it comes to working a room and making everyone lurve him.
i honestly don’t mind getting older, in fact, i rather enjoy it. Life feels more immediate. I’m taking nothing for granted, and i don’t sweat the small stuff.
Yaw is another one of those characters that everyone quickly and easily loves. And he is, as my friend teresa would say, a “4 B.” What’s a 4 B?
NEVER YOU MIND.
I think I am more nervous than I care to admit, because right before the party, I was having a little hissy-girly-wank-fest-fit. I became all cranky and moody because I received like 20 messages from people saying they were bailing on my party. I really need to grow thicker skin and a stiff upper lip. As soon as the room filled with my lovelies, all those ornery thoughts were shoved out of the way.
rob, dave, and trevor are the NEW charlie’s angels … rob can be farrah fawcett. HA!
shasheena brought me a gorgeous orchid! i was in awe of its beauty. i am notoriously horrid with plant-care, i never know how much light or water to give them, but i am going to put in my grade-A effort to keep this wild orchid reaching for the sky.
oh for the love of…
i adore my wife SO HARD. she’s so kind and so giving and so selfless.
and she’s got a butt that won’t quit.
sacha was clearly looking in the wrong direction when this photo was taken.
i can’t remember exactly what was being said here that i found so hilarious …. but it was clearly hella-funny. maybe we were talking about how my child-bearing years are now over. FUNNY. oh hai brennan!
chris is such a good photographer because he butters you up right before he snaps your photo, and makes you feel beautiful even if you have chocolate cake in your teeth and eye-makeup-goop in the corner of your eye. right before he snapped my pic, he said “christine you don’t have a bad angle, i never have to retouch your photos.” aw shucks, what a manufactured lie, but i will believe anything you tell me as long as it’s a compliment!
teresa is one of the few people still in my life from high school, i shaved the rest of ‘em out years ago. she makes the cut because she’s kind and brave and sweet and is too nice for her own good. her laugh is infectious and she never has a mean thing to say about the people she loves. oh and because she’s known me for so long, not only has she seen me change, she has LET me change. that’s the greatest thing a friend can do.
palm to palm is holy palmers kiss.
andrew and sofi are now each other’s back-up. in ten years time, expect to see little PapDonalds running around.
woah dave! was this taken at my party, or is it your official headshot for Ocean’s 14?
Scarbage high school girls unite! And we bring the street cred. The only people who spend FIVE YEARS in a Scarborough high school and make it out ALIVE are the tough-as-nails ones.
Andrew and Allegra are the new A-team.
see what I did there?
Shannon‘s a talented lass, she is.
Yaw can’t stop attracting da laydeez.
maybe when the timing is right, ashley and yaw will get married and their children will run the country on a platform of red-lipped smiles and huge biceps for everyone.
*this* close to seeing up allegra’s skirt. dammit.
laugh now, but one day, we’ll be in charge.
this photo is all lips and locks.
yes, it’s true. i gave in to peer pressure and took a sip of champagne.
EVERYBODY SHIT THEMSELVES.
This is probably my favourite photo of the night.
i refuse to have a party without hot men peppering the crowd.
“so i says to mable, i says…”
two men and a lil’ lady.
i supplied my own birfday cake and that sounds kinda sad, but i was rather chuffed with the results. choco cake with almond-milk frosting! i do good work.
reg was so funny. she’s lighting the candles, and because the match burns her skin, she ends up dropping the candle aflame onto the cake. so to prevent the cake from catching fire, she blows out all the candles. WIFEY STOLE MY BIRFDAY CANDLE WISH!
Porno for pyros.
“happy birfday to meee!”
as many of you know, i am full of hot air.
my mouth is huge.
hey fellas! use your imagination!
one year older, one year wiser.
I had a divine birfday weekend, fanks to all my lovely friends for coming out and blessing me with your presence!
You are the people i admire, i appreciate, i adore, i love …. and that i would (separately, at one time or another) like to smack the shit out of.
see you at next year’s birfday piss-up!
(additional photography by Chris Lukhardt, fanks guy!)
it’s my birfday today!
I’M OLD! GIMME GIMME GIMME!
i shant reveal my age here (a lady never does), but i will say that i am still younger than Jesus.
I won’t be blogging until next week because this weekend i’m having a clusterfuck-shitstorm-extravaganza to kibosh all previous birfdays. if you’re a friend of mine, not an asshole, and live in the greater toronto area, you can come along.
let’s celebrate the day of my birth, aka the last time i saw female genitalia.
but hey, the night is young ….
also celebrating a birfday today: jon bon jovi, daniel craig, bryce dallas howard, dr seuss, jessica biel, and chris martin.
you wish you were born on this day now. ADMIT IT.
BIRFDAY BEATS, POSTE HASTE!
Imma make an appearance at this event, and so should you.
i love how i found this poster above another that says “you can lead a whore to culture.”
Check out my SPUD category for more of his work.
Yes, I am a woman who occasionally likes to dress up all fancy and hit up some posh joints, like the new Trump Tower in the financial district.
Mostly, we were there to hand out business cards, sample the free spirits and hors d’oeuvres, and pretend like we were adults. (Shh! Don’t tell anyone, we look just like adults, so we can slip right in unnoticed).
And yes, as you can see here, I had some laughs. But after about an hour, we had to unbutton the fancy threads and head over to a Hoops in a ghetto area of the suburbs where wasted Hispanic lovertines bought us tequila shots. We got food all over our laps, a drunken space-cadet barged into the men’s toilets, and we played some tonsil-hockey.
My kinda party.
Local rabble rouser and loveable shit disturber Zach Bussey (the infamous charlatan behind Ontario’s Sexiest Election Candidate campaign) has given a run-down of all the ladies on the auction block, how much you can expect to pay, and what you’ll get for your money.
Here’s what he had to say about yours-truly:
Everybody knows Christine. Show us your tweets Christine! (If you follow her, you’ll get that.) Christine is great company who always makes me laugh, and I’m like Stalin (or maybe Teller.. whichever one laughs less?) She also can spot graffiti from a mile away and keeps getting recognition for it *cough Toronto Star*.
I expect a conglomerate of buyers to pitch in and grab Christine for no less than $170.
That’s awfully kind and generous of him to say. Bussey was actually the very first person I ever met from Twitter IRL (he lent me a flip cam!) so he’s always gonna be one of mah boyeeez. He’s always polarizing and mouthy (remind you of anyone you know?), and had some choice words for some of the other ladies on the auction block, so read what he has to say, as a past-participant and current supporter.
Hope to see you all there! Let’s be Valentines!
Fellas, now is your chance to date me! ………………..
I’m being auctioned off for charity!…………………
Jeez, tough crowd.
Well anyway, click on the above image to get details on the Love A Heart event, where the hottest bachelors and bachelorettes in Toronto (and, uh, me) will be auctioned off to raise funds for the Heart & Stroke Foundation.
It takes place on February 9th and The Hideout (484 Queen Street West), doors at 8pm, cover is $5.
If you’re not interested in being dis gal’s Valentine, there are lots of other beauties on the auction block (I know almost all the gals, they’re pretty saucey). As for you ladies out there looking to buy a man-whore, I know almost all the guys being auctioned as well, and they are SEXY MO-FO’S! There’s even two professional athletes on the auction block, one from Toronto Rock (that’s our pro lacrosse team) and another from the Toronto Argonauts (pro football team, CFL)!
To top it off, there’ll be a live performance by Indie Music Week champions Tiny Danza.
It’s going to be a really fun night, even if you don’t want to bid, you can at least come say hi and introduce yourself! We’ll clink glasses and talk about graff!
And you’ll get to watch me sell-out for a fiver.
Take me to bed or lose me forever!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, just make with the penis already.
I was invited to this invite-only party called Canadian Club Speakeasy. Supposed to riff of of Boardwalk Empire, everyone got all dressed up like they were in a 1920s bordello and drank free Canadian Club all night long.
But I’m teetotal.
I get invited to these things all the time. Brandy tastings. Wine tasting. Vodka parties. Open bar parties. I don’t usually go to them, unless I know that everybody I know is going to be there. And, as expected, this time they were. So fuck it, I’ll go have a laugh with my crew and tear up the dancefloor. But then the awkward conversation happens when someone wants to clink glasses and they realize I have nothing in my hand.
There’s many reasons why I don’t drink a drop, and since that always SHOCKS the shit outta people, let me explain why.
#1 I don’t like the taste of alcohol. That’s the number one reason and the over-riding factor for everything. I’ve tried lots of different flavours and kinds of alcohol, and it all tastes like battery acid to me.
#2 It’s expensive. No wonder you guys are broke all the time. You spend it all on booze. I’m a starving writer, son. I don’t have the extra cash flow to blow on something I don’t even like the taste of.
#3 It’s unhealthy. It destroys livers, brain cells, and turns you into a fat slob. In addition, it is directly related to an increased risk of many types of cancers, specifically breast cancer in women. When you’re trying to lose weight and live a healthier lifestyle, every single nutritionist or doctor or dietician will tell you that the first thing you need to cut out is the brewskies. Not even wine. That urban myth that a glass of wine is good for you is utter bullshit. As you all know now, I have been enduring a bit of a health crisis lately, and I don’t need to aggravate an already bad situation.
#4 It makes you act like a fucktard. People get away with the most horrific of behaviours because they hide behind the banner of “I was so waaaaasted, maaaaaaan. Don’t blame me, I don’t remember a thing. Blah blah fucking blah.” That’s not admissible in a court of law, nor in a Court of Chris. I understand that some people drink to relax and to release their inhibitions. Fair enough, but anyone who knows me will tell you that I don’t have any inhibitions. I’m already on eight most days, if I’m drunk I’ll go up to ten. You don’t wanna see me on ten. It ain’t pretty.
#5 I’ve only realized this last point recently, but I think I don’t like the feeling of being out of control. I don’t like stumbling around, having a foggy brain, not being able to concentrate, and vomiting my guts out. I’ll leave that kind of leotarded behaviour for the adolescents.
Given my outgoing nature, people are always shocked that I don’t drink. Maybe they think I’m a party girl, maybe they just assume writers need to have dependencies, who knows. And I usually get mixed reactions – some people are outright insulted that I don’t drink. One guy called me a Mormon and insisted I didn’t know how to have fun. Then again, some people really respect my principles.
And if I don’t have my principles, I don’t have anything.
last week, i was asked to write an article for YYZ Living Magazine, a highly-stylized Toronto-centric magazine aimed at those who work hard and play hard. they’ve mostly covered fashion in the past, but they’re also interested in technology & gadgets, travel, the arts, design, and culture. they’ve asked me to write a travel article for them avec photographs for their upcoming winter issue. when it hits the stands, i’ll update all my delicious munchkin readers (yes, you).
YYZ Living is famous for their posh, glitterati parties – so much so that the organizers of LG Fashion Week (#LGFW) asked them to throw the #LGFW opening night party at the Thompson Hotel’s rooftop lounge. being a writer got me an invite.
i dressed up because i wanted them to know that even dorky writers can be fancy (huh)
reggy was my arm-candy, and lauren brought her colleague her snap photos of us. she mapped out this above photo, the gal’s got an eye for posing. i’m gripping her suspenders while “riding” her leg as she and reg entertain tonsil hockey.
MILKSHAKES. IN THE YARD. EVERYWHERE.
playing dress-up is fun sometimes, although i did feel dwarfed by all the fashionistas and starlets circling the room like lions.
back in april, the fine people at Miik generously gave me this lovely red dress (made of bamboo!), and it’s now become my signature dress. i don’t own many dresses, so i work with what i got. i kinda wear it all the freakin time. maybe i over-wear it.
as you can see here
for the record, i know nothing about fashion (ssh! don’t tell the YYZ people!).
if it’s clean, and i can squeeze my rump into it, i’ll pretty much wear anything.
i go clothes shopping maybe twice a year (and that’s usually only because i’ve busted yet another bra). i’ve always been more of a tomboy. i come home at night and run for my hoodie and yoga pants drawer. i’m a second-hand-chuck-taylors kinda gal.
and the moral of the story is: no matter what carrie bradshaw would have you believe, writers are slob dressers.
now if you’ll excuse me, i need to go ejaculate my neuroses into a Word document.