my old apartment

When I left to move to Brazil, I still had a month left to complete my lease. So my friend Bert, who is recently separated, decided to stay for the time remaining. He's a New Yorker, from Brooklyn, in Indianapolis. No wonder why we both (outsiders) clicked right away. Here's what the apartment looks like with him there. That's all his art, by the way.


He'll be setting up a shop with etsy soon, so I'll post it here.

problem solved

A conversation between my sister (who's getting married in April), my brother (who's 21) and I:

- me: I'm dying to have a kid. But really what I want is for you to have a baby.

- sister: Oh, no! One "mistake" at a time. And besides, we don't even have money to have a baby now. It's gonna take a while.

- brother (serious): Well, I could do it. I did just sell my guitar.

my graphic representation of "revenge"

Click on the image to see it larger.

This a response to a post of a very famous Brazilian blogger. You all should learn portuguese and visit him.

alarm dances

Alarm dance 1
Alarm dance 2
Alarm dance 3
Alarm dance 4

an alternative for the 2012 olympic logo

by Daniel Eatock

A composite of the 1913 Olympic Rings crated by Pierre de Coubertin (representing the 5 continents) and the RAF Roundel.

"Roundels in British heraldry have different names depending on their tincture (colour)... During the Second World War, the red inner circle of RAF-based roundels on planes based in the Asia-Pacific was painted white or light blue, so they would not be confused for the Hinomaru red circle on Japanese planes, still used by the self-defense forces of Japan to this day. The roundel, especially the RAF's, has been associated with British pop art of the 1960s, appearing in paintings by Jasper Johns. It became part of the pop consciousness after British rock group The Who started to wear RAF roundels (and Union Flags) as part of their stage apparel at the start of their career. Subsequently it came to symbolise Mods and the Mod Revival."

I like it a lot. What do you think?

mr. toledano will see you now

Amazingly beautiful and conceptual photography/website of Phillip Toledano
(via Design is Kinky)

the confessions of a generic boy

"Confessions of a Generic Boy is brought to you by areyougeneric.org -- the same folks who brought you Magazine Confessions.

It's simple to participate. Draw an interpretation of yourself as a generic boy or girl confessing to what makes you like everybody else. Then paste it up somewhere in public, take a photo and submit the image (as a JPEG). If you don't have the means to sticker the graphic in a public space -- then simply submit your sketch as is."

stuff from etsy

Greeting Cards


from Petri Dish


Wall Graphics



from One Up

The Brazilian O.J.

I just got home from a quite uneventful evening with a couple of friends. Uneventful if it were not for SEEING THE CORRESPONDENT OF O.J. SIMPSON IN BRAZIL. In our case, instead of an athlete, he is was an actor. An actor in one of Brazil's record breaking, highest ratings soap operas. If you are familiar with Brazilian soap operas, you may know that they have always been an international commodity. We're know for having good soap operas. Being an soap actor here is pretty much like being a big-time Hollywood star. They are the sex symbols, they are the celebrities, the are the big deal here.




Yeah, that was him. His name is Guilherme de Pádua, and in December 28, 1992, Guilherme and his real-life wife, Paula Thomaz (right), stabbed to death co-star Daniela Perez (left), who was none other than his love interest in the soap opera. His wife at the time wasn't even 21. Daniela was 22.

In this video, you can see the story covered by CNN (I'm telling you - it was a huge deal) and towards the end, a scene where she tries to break up with him, saying that she's no longer in love. That was the last scene they shot together.





Guilherme confessed, then was charged and convicted of the murder of Daniela. That was all people in Brazil talked about for a long, long time. It was an extremely graphic and brutal murder. He appeared on TV with bruises all over his arms, which showed that she tried to put up a fight before being killed. His wife at the time and him, after trying to hurt Daniela with a screw driver, stabbed her with a pair of scissors more than 12 times. I remember vividly how the media kept showing her dead body lying on the grass, still at the place where it all happened. She had such recognizable features, she looked strikingly like herself lying covered in bloodand with wounds on her neck. She was young, and pretty. She was wearing a pair of jeans on and white sneakers.



As if this story couldn't get any weirder, her mother, Gloria Perez, was the director of the soap opera. Before the news leaked to the media, and before becoming a suspect, Guilherme met with Gloria and Raul, Daniela's husband, to offer his condolences. Nine hours later, he was arrested.

He and his wife were sentenced to 19 and a half years in prison. He served six, only to be released in 2001. According to the law in Brazil, he's no longer considered a felon. It's like the crime never occurred. He lives in Belo Horizonte, the city where my parents, and now I, live. He's re-married, and he can walk the streets like nothing ever happened. He's gained weight and he looks older, but I immediately recognized him. It was an odd experience to say the least. He was with a couple of women, one younger (probably his wife) and one older, watching them shop and being like any guy on a Sunday afternoon.

Now - who would marry someone like that? Who would sign up for that kind of life? Who could erase from their memory all the TV shows we watched in the early 90s with his faced stamped on it, followed by the dead body of the women HE STABBED MORE THAN 12 TIMES? Who could forget that, at one point, he actually tried to change his story and blamed his ex-wife for the whole ordeal. How can someone get past that?

It was like having O.J. right there in front of me, 2 inches away, for several minutes. I had time to look at him while remembering all the images we all saw over ten years ago. Except for it's in Brazil. Here, O.J. wouldn't have to say IF he did it. He could have confessed and would still be able to study at the same private university I went to, and still be eligible for a scholarship only months after being released from jail. He would enjoy his weekends as a free man, with a very forgetful woman and a criminal record that is about as clean as mine.

hooked like me

an overdose of things I want

Complete and Utter Bullshit Stamp

Reusable Bag

Helpless Sticky Notes

Shit List (the perfect gift for those who hold grudges)


"Monica Dear" Birthday Card (Reads: "monica, dear, that was precious little story. now, be a sweetheart and fix mommy another martini. happy birthday.")

Hillary Nutcracker

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner Onesie

today

We went to my sister's new house today, at this gated community right outside of the city. It's a gorgeous place as you can see in the video. There's this little church there from where you can see huge rocks and a big ass canyon. Puppy went with us and was as happy as ever. Notice his new haircut. It's good to be back.


My brother and I

craving

While working at my last job in Indianapolis, my breakfast consisted of a can of Diet Coke and a peanut butter granola bar from Nature Valley. It was a ritual. Before even saying a good morning, I would go in the kitchen, grab my Coke, my granola bar, and go to my desk. E-V-E-R-Y-D-A-Y. The most yummiest and caffeinated part of my day. Turns out Brazil doesn't have Nature Valley. We do have Diet Cokes, of course, but my craving for my peanut butter or almond bars is getting stronger. My days are just not the same. I'm ordering them today online and having them shipped to me.

Dreamed Objects

Elastic Clock

A kinetic sculpture, showing the times as relief impression on stretchy fabric.
by Albin Karlsson

The flybrary

by Satina Turner

via idealist

he's happy here

Puppy and I are doing well. We're happy in Brazil, so far. New job opportunities are coming up, the weather is amazingly hot, it's November and I get to wear sundresses. I go to sleep at 5am, and wake up at 11am. I eat ice cream, drink beer and eat rally yummy home made food. ON A DAILY BASIS. I have no rent to pay. I don't do my own laundry. I don't pump my own gas. I'm spoiled rotten, and - right now - I couldn't ask for more.

Tomorrow is a holiday here, so my sister, my mom and I have a "gardening class" in the morning, at my sister's new house. That's right. I'm taking one for the team and will participate. Am I full of surprises or what?

The Italic Poster

via Noisy Decent Graphics

Sushi Pillow

"The makers of these great pillows, Cindy Tomm and Mel Maghuyop, are actors who toured with the musical Miss Saigon in North America and hatched the idea of "the original sushi pillow" while on tour."

music, aesthetics and the internet

I found this at the always great SwissMiss and I ended up reading the whole thing. The text is brilliantly written by Will Sheff.

"Because my work is the most important thing in the world to me, I sometimes feel uncomfortable about it existing freely in the digital Library of Babel, these songs that I worked so hard writing and revising and rehearsing and recording and mixing (and re-mixing) and mastering (and re-mastering) shucked off the album and thrown up on the internet in hissy and brittle low-resolution versions with no kind of sequence or order, mixed in with odd leaked tracks and some sub-par live versions. In a world overstuffed with stimuli and choking on information, I feel like a musical album should have a kind of purity and a kind of wholeness, that every aspect of an album – from the sequencing to the artwork even down to the typesetting – should feels labored over and loved, and that the finished product should feel like a gift."

so far in brazil

there's more where that came from

Hi Brazil.

It's nice to see you. You're still as hot as ever.

I'm dead tired, so updates and photos to come soon.

Almost gone

Gate E12. That's where I'm at. At the airport in Atlanta. I've checked Puppy in and cryed my eyes out. That makes me think that I will put myself through hell if I'm ever a mother.

It's 7:03pm and our flight to Rio leaves at 8:40pm. This has been a crazy, crazy day and I'm so overwhelmed I can't even put it into words. A huge part of me wants to run out of here and go back to my good old life in Indianapolis, but anothe - the 2% sane part of me - is keeping me here and telling me I need to get in that flight and go.

I really hope I don't regret this. I really do.

I'll miss all of this.

All of right here.

Indianapolis, Atlanta, Brazil

Dear people,

I'm in Atlanta, writing from the hotel bar, using my new 17'' Mac Book Pro with which I am fucking in love. (I can't imagine how I lived 26 years of my life without it. Capitalism - you fucking complete me.)

We - me, my dad and Pupps - drove 8 long hours yesterday from Indianapolis to Atlanta, and got here only to crash. We're staying at this really cute hotel in midtown, and Puppy fucking hates the elevator. He clings to the floor like spiderman, it's hillarious. Because I don't want to leave him at the hotel by himself barking his ass off, I haven't been able to do much without him. I drove around, got lost a few times, walked around a cute little place with a bunch of small art galleries, saw where Portfolio Center is, then got lost again and got harassed by two crackheads, then went back to the hotel. Pupps is upstairs with my dad, sleeping, and I'm here at this bar watching a group of middle aged men drink Pinot Noir and make small talk.

I'm leaving to Brazil tomorrow, which means these are my last 24 hours in America, at least for now. My plan is to come back to visit next Fall, but right now it just sounds sooo far from here! I didn't get to say goodbye to all of my friends. This past week was insanely busy and I still can't believe I managed to pack all my shit and ship it to Brazil.

I'm sad. Really sad, and most of all, I'm afraid I will regret this move. But it's something I have to do now. I want to be with my family now, and I miss that part of my life. But who knows what's going to happen... One thing that I've learned these past two months is that life doesn't give a fuck about your plans, so I'm doing my best to just go with it and try to make the right decisions for now, and only hope that things will work out for me, wherever I end up at.

Love,
a very overwhelmed me.

WHAT KIND OF BLOGGER ARE YOU??

Out with the old, in with the new

Two days ago I sold the first mac I've ever owned so that could go towards buying a new one. I sold my G4 to my friend's girlfriend, who is a hilarious, funky italian and portorican chick who I now adore. I told her I liked her purse so she gave it to me. Here it is. I sold my old mac for $500 buck and got me a Fred Flare bag. Cool, huh?

I'm buying my MacBook Pro tomorrow! Yay!

Countdown to Brazil: 10 DAYS

the english (often) do it better

Not another designer.

poetic products

Dance Shoes For the Father and the Daugter.


Sleeping furniture dreams of being a chair.


From bag to head, and from head to bag.

All from Company's Secret Shop.

"Here's the 411 on the most noteworthy narcissism enablers"

via Wired