MOVING!

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<3,
j q i

big daddy's.

for my eco art class at laney, we sometimes meet at a community garden in emeryville called big daddy's. it's a testament to guerilla gangsta gardening. it was once a gas station, but it got blown up long ago. now, it's a sprawling neighborhood garden, complete with metal sculptures built by vickie jo, founder of the garden & fab cook.

so our class is spending time working there & building art pieces for a show on may 6th, in conjunction with the oakland art murmur. "conversations with earth" is its name. i'm collaborating with a constructing genius/artist on a six-foot cheeseburger built out of cardboard, chicken wire, & papier mache. those photos to soon follow.

there's a place i love.

jutting out above berkeley, peeking across the bay at sf, the albany bulb is an unexpected place of quietness & natureness mashed up with concrete blocks & graffiti. once a landfill, now a sort of urban park. there are remnants of what used to be an extensive bum camp, but there are still many thriving in tents on the bulb.

i've heard of the bulb for a long time, but had no idea what it was or how to get there. a couple of months ago, kelsey & i googled a bike route & biked from bart. not only is the ride easy, the bulb is right next to golden gate fields. i had never been to a horsetrack before, but $1 beer & hotdogs sounded worthwhile. it was not. well, sort of. we just obviously did not belong, confirmed by the stares of every person there. plus we had no idea how to bet. next time we'll take a seasoned vet.

so i've made a few trips up since, when the weather & my schedule allow. this last time, i brought paint & some homies.

go there.

how to waste a lot of time.

watch tv.
lie around in bed.
download new music.
update your myspace that you haven't used in several years, in lieu of not having a facebook account anymore. (wow, you must be really bored)
obsessively think about how pathetically you're wasting time when you should be doing a lot of stuff.
foolishly decide that everything can wait while you idle just a little longer.
idle for several more hours.
write this post.
still do..nothing.

good thing i skipped school for this.

kid muscle.

yes, this is from the simpsons (kudos if you recognized it!). tv raised me. it's only now that i realize how much i've been influenced–nay, infected–by the cartoons i grew up with.

i'll admit i was a huge simpsons geek. well, maybe not huge huge. i didn't recall episodes by their number or even season, but i sure had simpsons jeopardy & a box of krusty o's (thxx jess), could recite several hundreds of lines of dialogue, & secretly wished i could live in springfield. i'll also admit that i fell out of the yellow fever for a bit when i went onto college & thought i should be more growsed up (& the episodes got bad). the problem with having particular interests as a kid/teenager is that people seem to think those are the only things you like, consequently buying you so much memorabilia, your loved ones are the biggest contributors to stamping FREAK across your forehead. i mean i couldn't have a room plastered with simpsons, hello kitty, & giraffes forever, could i?..could i?

so, after a couple of hours tricerahopped-up (tricerahops is an amazing double ipa that packs a punch) getting nostalgic about the golden years of the simpsons with my brotato joseph on saturday, we got branded the next day. i'd like to think i've become a tad more sophisticated, but i can't ever hold myself back entirely. i love this tattoo. just another reminder to myself that farts will always be funny & my heroes are all two-dimensional.

i will always be a kid. & i am totally okay with that. the gets-excited-to-pour-glue-in-their-hand-to-peel-it-off-when-it-dries kind. like ralph wiggum.

long live the flying hellfish!

<3

p.s. sorry you had to find out this way, mom. luff you.

animal suicide.

an idea that's been on my mind for several years now. turning it into a series.

bible.

like a jo-ho (just heard this cute little nickname for jehovah witnesses who ain't so..saintly), i have my own book i carry with me everywhere i go. i religiously fill its pages whenever i feel that tinge of boredom or an idea hits me over the head with a hammer. inside this halfsheet-sized, most expensive ($17) sketchbook i've ever bought are my newest drawings. just an itty bitty update on random things that, most times, i don't even know where come from.