Lugging stuff around

Ignore the albatross around my neck. I've made my own noose and i'll find a way out of it (I hope).

For distraction.

Heroine

Agnes Varda write up in the New York Times--about time somebody recognize her. Female French New-Wave essay filmist. Everything I ever wanted in a single person. And she's friends with my favorite male French New-Wave film essayist (Chris Marker) and married to the wonderfully light-handed director Jacques Demy. What a fuckin' rock star (well, really punk goddess would be more appropriate--notice the dyed fringe to her white hair!).

Also I covet.

Infectous

Phoenix has put out my album for the summer (even though I might listen to the new Dirty Projector's more). But I could swear up and down that they're from the North American continent and not France. Are there any Franco-files that can sniff out some European-ness that I don't detect from these boys?

Preview of next month

Mad writing. And this:


Shores Of California Video

Turquoise and Bright Red

I'm currently obsessed with this color scheme (and kitchen--love those weird old stoves with small little ovens). I was trying to describe it to the boy the other day about a teal-aqua dress with red accessories. But in reality, i'd much prefer a kitchen.

Ok, back to work.

Being a happy bunny

1. I got a digital hug from lB!
2. lB taught me about wholphins.
3. My secret admirer left me a present a couple Fridays ago.
4. The present was conductive fabric, which I've been meaning to get.
5. The following day at work, I received a letter from a friend in Ghana.
6. I'm working on a new artech* project with someone at Noisebridge.
7. My housemate is lending me her mom's sewing machine, so I'm learning to sew.
8. Trip to Spain and France this August is a go.
9. lB visits again soon! (I have yet to put your pocket knife in the mail, lB.)

* artech = art + technology. It'd be a cool logo with the 't' looking like a '+'...sketches to follow.

Aww...

I'm giving you a digital hug, dB. We'll definately go when you're in town.

In my inability to write or sleep recently (the two go hand in hand it seems... I can't write if I don't sleep enough and I can't sleep from panic and worry if I don't write enough) I've been instead listening a lot to my favorite radio show. I want to hate the Swami persona but hell, this Saturday's show had the Buzzcock's Love You More back to back with Betty Davis, The Fascinations, and the opening track from the Ghost World (Bollywood, not the Zwigoff/Clowes one) sdtk. What's not to love?

Speaking of that Buzzcock's single, it's the central feature in one of the shorts in the new Wholphin. Do you know what a wholphin is dB? I'm sure you'd like it (the animal, if not the DVD mailings.)

The best thing on this issue was the documentary "Kids + Money" about the effects growing up in LA surrounded by a very materialistic, economically driven culture. Why are documentaries about kids always the best and most entertaining? How unguarded they are? How insightful--yet seemingly innocent it seems? I'm sure those are all false to some degree--but it does seem like it. And if this doc taught me anything, it's that appearences matter.

Futuristic technology @ Chicago

Hey lB, you should check out the new "Fast Forward" exhibit at Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry. It features concept art and technology that may become household items tomorrow. One of my favorite pieces, the hug shirt by CuteCircuit is on display. The shirt allows the wearer to receive virtual hugs wirelessly from loved ones.



When I visit you in September, I might drag you to see it!

Bands from California

First off, nice lights dB.

Second, I want to defend the music of my home after not being able to adequately recall worthwhile bands from the Golden State. (And admitting I went to high school with the runner up of American Idol-Adam Lambert, attended schools that produced Blink 182 and Unwritten Law, and could only grasp at the bad pop punk--such as Green Day, AFI--and really bad alt rock--a la Third Eye Blind and Train--when put on the spot.)

The Beach Boys are actually from California (Hawthorne to be exact) much to my delight. I don't know why I got it in my head that they migrated from a less surf friendly state. (Unfortunately, the Doors, Santana and the Grateful Dead are also originally from Cali).

The main problem is that it's a place that bands move to, not necessarily come from. And the bands that do hail from the area, don't necessarily have a "California sound" (like the Byrds, Flaming Groovies, and uh, NOXF). But you know what, there's still plently to like. In San Diego alone there was always the Rocket from the Crypt (Hot Snakes, Drive Like Jehu, Beehive and the Baracudas, Night Marchers) and Pinback (Thingy, Three Mile Pilot, Octagonally Yours) circles, not to mention the totally underrated Black Heart Procession, Pitchfork and Greyboy Allstars.

Though punk (Minutemen/Germs) and post rock, as well as a certain circle of hip hop and electronica, seem to be the strong points there's plenty of that hippy protest rock, power pop (Plimsouls to Weezer) and the more experimental stuff (my personal favorites include Deerhoof and Sleepytime Gorilla Museum) to go around.

If that were not enough to comfort me against all the musical crimes of my state (Monkees/No Doubt, I'm looking at you guys), there are the uniquely California dynamics of indie-ish bands like Imperial Teen, Granddaddy and Sparks... and Pavement... and Beck.

Lastly, though there are plently of songs that are about California (Straight Outta Compton, Hotel California, I Left My Heart In San Francisco, California Dreamin', Kalifornia, I'm So LA), I take great joy in the fact that Otis Redding, bless his Georgian soul, is singing about my waterfront in "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay."

Light-up bra

I've always loved light. Working on optical trapping in a lab-on-a-chip device was fun!

But I've also always loved art. Consequently, to integrate the two, I've started adding lights into my jewelry...and lingerie.

The below piece is my color-changing LED bra. Tucked between the cups of the bra is an encasing with a couple watch batteries, an LED, and an on-off switch. The light from the LED goes through a fanned array of fiber optics, which serves as the center piece of the "necklace". The fiber optics will peek up from a moderately modest shirt. (I'd pair it with a deep square neck top to keep with the straight contour lines.)

The center piece is secured to the straps circling the neck, and all components are detachable. Hence, not only is it convenient to change batteries, you can still throw the bra and bra straps into the washing machine.

Bra used was from the Victoria's Secret: Sexy Little Things collection, RN# 72409.

Can't sleep

Listening to: Harvest Moon, Danger,and Pollen and Salt.

Watched Exterminating Angel. I love Bunuel so hard. (It's about a group of spoiled elite who can't seem to leave a room--for absolutely no apparent reason--after a lavish dinner party and their descent into savagery.) Deliciously weird.

...and the livin' is easy

I haven't been at my computer in 3 days. My bloglines are out of control (like in the 4 digits).

But I don't care if it's gloomy out. I have summer brain and a person I want to spend it with. (Though if it were nice we would be picnic-ing and working on the garden).

My advice: Be in love and go see Up.