can i make it better with the lights turned on?
vicki blogged about this, a tofu dish to beat out all other tofuckery attempts.
this was the day i nearly passed out from dehydration. 38 degrees celsius in toronto, but with the humidex, it feels like 50 (reminding me of my time in india), and people still are keeping their babies and dogs locked up in the car. i sat on the benches outside of Hibiscus for an hour, trying to pull my shit together, and garner enough energy to stand. people walked by in fluorescent colours, and i was about to fall on my knees without the pleasure of praying.
i tweeted the above when i finally stood up, and wandered around trying to find a convenience store. i refuse to go to the one at the corner of augusta and college, because that schmuck behind the counter always eyes me up like i’m a five-finger-discounter, when all i want is a popsicle. so i wandered like a flaneur, until i found myself on ossington, sitting on the patio of iDeal coffee, looking at people ride by on their bicycles.
i nearly capsized.
my nose was stinging, my chin collapsing, but i didn’t cry.
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you’ll remember a while back when i blogged about finding this beautiful piece of street art by deadboy, and because of that blog post, him and i kind of struck up a correspondence. well he recently let me know that some of his new work is up, and sent me on a scavenger hunt to find them…
deaboy’s clever raccoon is up in kensington market, go for a scour of the alleyways there, you’ll find his scrawlings, and some other vibrant work.
i think many people are afraid of venturing alone in alleyways. i’ve been doing it alone during the day and at night, and lately, i’m feeling safer in the alleys than out in the street. even the crooks and thieves are afraid of the alleys, no one runs behind the tall, shadowed walls anymore. except the artists.
this is very The Shadow-esque. who knows what evil lurks in the heart of men? hahaha, what a shit movie.
dude is swallowing what flows from the gas pump.
don’t we all.
see the bird above the tim hortons? i’ve seen that bird before, it was up near the bathurst street theatre during the fringe festival, but didn’t get a chance to photograph it. is it still there?
sometimes toronto has the same amount of decay and destruction to it, and we haven’t even been in a war.
someone has copied shepard fairey’s Obey style
i’m working on it….
i’m not sure exactly from this stencil who this cigar smoking guy is supposed to be. i’m assuming he’s a politician or political figure of some sort.
whoever he is, the street artist behind him has sprayed him all over kensington market.
here he is again…
hey street artist behind this stencil! contact me! i wanna hear about your work. let’s be friennnnnnnnnnnds. oh i see a heart underneath the stencil. gee, i wonder who that is….
this Busk guy with Groucho Marx’s face is everywhere. i photographed him once before, but he’s all over the city, if you know to keep your eyes up.
that’s the thing about street art: once you’ve trained yourself, as i have, to keep your eyes up instead of down at the sidewalk, you won’t be able to NOT notice them anymore. you’ll realize that it’s everywhere, and there’s always new spots, new corners, new walls, new lamp posts, new targets. i think it’s only a matter of time before i start stirring the wheatpaste in the pot, grab a long-handled broom, and beat the street sometime past 3am with subterfuge burning underneath the hood of my eyes.
i agree with this statement.
like rose tombstones.
it’s the syntax that lying.
i ran into someone the other evening in the distillery district which gave me reason to pause.
at first, i wasn’t sure that it was him. so i kept walking out the door into the brimstone temperatures of the bricks.
then i stopped, paused, turned around on my heel, and marched right back up to him in the air-conned lobby.
it had been months since i’d seen him, well before my spring NYClusterfuck. he had texted me last month, but i froze up upon receiving it, not knowing how to respond, so i remained silent.
we chatted pleasantly like god was stuck in our throats. With the mutual circles we run in, it’s a safe wager that he could continually be within striking distance.
what a clever juxtaposition.
those fucking kids.
all i see is hope.
* * *
This entry was posted on July 23, 2011 by Christine Estima. It was filed under Christine Estima, clusterfuck, creative writing, dating, deadboy, ex boyfriend, GIFs, graffiti, gregory alan elliot, Listen Bird, love, media, men, new york city, photography, relationships, shepard fairey, social media, street art, street culture, toronto, writing .
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