Creativity

Watch all the way through...

Immortalizing Every Person In New York

This guy has taken up a very special project-- to draw every single person in New York City. According to the New York Times, the task could take him over 79 years-- if he draws a person every 5 minutes!-- but I think it's worth a shot. besides being an admirable feat, the guy's really talented. ya know, i happen to frequent such spots on a pretty regular basis... draw me! draw me! Look at this beaut...

ho ho ho

santa convention right outside my door...they're already drunkenly "ho ho ho-ing"...it's going to be a long night...

ah, love.

he other night, i went to the bar across the street. this bar and i have a love/hate relationship because the bastards that loiter outside of it at 3am on weekdays keep me up at night (it's gotten so bad that if i wake up in the middle of the night, i can tell what time it is by the volume of the ruckus outside) and yet, it's the most convenient place to go for a drink. i went there the other night to meet some already sufficiently drunk and rowdy male friends (i would have hated them if i was trying to sleep). after the thorough entertainment of watching them act like idiots and helping them hobble out of the establishment, i was about to cross the street to go back home when some gentlemen started talking to me.

it was totally innocent, so i didn't mind having a friendly chat, even if they were a little tipsier than i was. after a few minutes of conversation, a friend of theirs, a short, slightly balding, beady-eyed, beak-nosed, crooked-smiled, altogether awkward guy came out to join in. and then, all of a sudden, the two gentlemen i had been talking to were gone. Poof! Like loyal wingmen, they had helped their friend, and made their way back into the bar.

so i was stuck outside with this guy, let's call him Little Man, and we started talking. it was clear that he had little to no social graces; in a matter of minutes, while trying to make me laugh, he had insulted my hometown ("LA? you don't look fake enough for LA!"), intellect ("are you sure you want to go into books? are you sure you read enough?" ), and even my heritage ("you're indian? hope you're in the right caste..." ). he was striking out in ways i didn't even know existed. and yet, i felt bad for Little Man; i could clearly see he was trying to be charming and funny, but just going about it in all the wrong ways. he asked if he could buy me a drink, and against my better judgement, i said yes (i was feeling altruistic) (besides, we're in a recession, people, it's getting harder and harder to get a free beer.). about three sips into my drink he managed to insult my skin color ("hey, at least you're not as dark as he is!"). quickly, i got the hell out of there.

the next morning, i was marveling at the wrongness of the wrong guys. normally, in order to make myself feel better when i'm feeling particularly demoralized about men, i go to the weddings and celebrations section of the new york times, because sometimes all you need is a success story. and while i wasn't sure that a simple article could cure the hopelessness i felt after this particularly horrifying encounter, i figured every little bit helps. what i found was remarkable.

i read this and have hereby found a way to remedy every post-Little Man gloom from now on.

not that i'm a cynic, but i'm pretty realistic when it comes to l-o-v-e and such (i.e. i believe love fades, marriage is a contract, and my boyfriend will never go to europe without me because he will most certainly cheat with some irresistible italian girl), but a love story like Macmanus and Funke is a Meg Ryan romantic comedy waiting to happen. it makes me believe in not just flighty, exciting love, but the responsible, smart, sticky love that runs deep.

faith restored, for now.

Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische

old, old stuff

was going through the folder in my hard drive that i reserved for "recreational writing," though high school and college etc. (i.e. all the stuff i never had to submit for a grade) and i found some little things that brought back some serious memories. it's times like these that i remember why it's so important to write-- these are experiences that would have eroded into some dusty past. some good, some bad, but i'm glad to be able to say, i lived that...

I know how your hands feel over mine, and I know the calluses over your fingers, and I know the brownness of your eyes and the smallness of your mouth, and the way your lips purse together when you’re watching baseball. I know how red and puffy your face gets when you’re really exhausted, and your funny, ineloquent accent. I know the warmness of your skin and the warmness of your body. I know how it feels when your palm rests on the back of my leg, and the curve of your shoulders when you’re hunched over your desk. I know how afraid you are of getting close to me, ever since I learned how your lips feel pressed against mine, and how your nose feels pressed against mine, and how your soft, slow tongue feels pressed against mine. I know your nervous habit of running away from me when others are around and I know the tenderness of your voice, the kindness of your eyes, the quietness, the sweetness of your affection that hangs in the air—like steam from a hot shower—when we are alone in a room.

Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische

ominant, daring, hardly domesticated, indicatively dusky, distant dalliance, annual denouement, darling December

It's the first of December! The only month whose cruel weather is balanced by the warmth that everyone seems to exude as soon as the chill hits. I don't know about you, but as soon as I said my first, "Happy Holidays!" I've been a gonner-- catching myself singing carols aloud (note: i hate christmas music), decking my halls (that's right, complete with twinkle lights, tree, and pine-cinnamon-cranberry scented candles), and generally spreading the holiday cheer.

It's also my birthday month, which tends to throw me in an existential funk (has since I turned 15), but also makes me wholly grateful for the life my 20-something self has been allowed to live. Turkey day is just the kick off to my month of giving thanks-- this is the month that i brainstorm potential resolutions, marvel at the time that's passed, marvel at what's to come, all the while trying to avoid eating myself into a stupor (i'm a sucker for holiday treats).

despite the greying weather and the somehow always unexpected cold, i'll stay in a good mood. at least until the new year when i make promises to myself that i'll try (earnestly and steadfastly) to keep until i tire and become a little bit cynical again (just in time for valentine's day).

for now, though, things are looking up. Happy holidays, lovers.

D courtesy of DailyDropCap