BLAAAH Magazine — Issue 01

Page 1


Jamaican Queens Keith J. Varadi X.C. Atkins Melanie Jane Parker Amy Lombard Evan Robarts & more ue . iss no 1








Mast Head

Publisher theBLAAAHg

Editor-in-Chief Mauricio Vargas

COpy Editor Jeff Reiger

Art Direction & Design

Writers Mark Craig Sally Cortois Diana Aydin Lily Wong

Photographers Joseph Talman Mauricio Vargas Gretchen Robinette Eric Luc

Illustrators Maximilian Bode Anastasia Mouyis



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/Local Love






#LIZZ JARDIM page 10

#AMY LOMBARD page 42





#WTF IS DAB? page 16








/Summer-scope #SUMMER #HOROSCOPES page 28


Local Love


If anyone can pull off a backpack made to look like a leather motorcycle jacket, it’s Sarah Richards. She carries it with such a casual air that it takes a moment for the joke to settle in--it’s that quietly cool, confident style that could have only evolved from a life-long obsession with fashion; though to call it an obsession might be a bit of an understatement.

button downs reminiscent of English gardens; airy blouses splashed with ocean-themed patterns. Her newest FW13 collection is not quite as saturated – more subtle and serene – but it is every bit as surreal and other-worldly. Organic, natural forms are juxtaposed with architectural, man-made imagery: rolling hills and collaged foliage are now printed in a stone gray, paired against a cobblestone grid; a silky shirt is adorned with a single green plant hovering over above a pale image of the Roman goddess, Venus. She appears again on a denim jacket, layered under a watery, blue-and-white print. On another blouse, staggered images of the planet Venus in transit are contrasted with a flowing, liquid-like print, and at bottom of the shirt, sits a statue of the goddess on a marble slab. It’s a funny little detail – like the tiny tree frog resting on a leaf or the subtle drop shadow of a floating plant – that hints at Sarah’s sense of humor, which occasionally pops up in her work.

Fashion has always been an unstoppable force in Sarah’s life. As a kid, she constantly found herself drawn to all things fashion --from department store displays to the blue silk dress in Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres’ famous painting of the Princesse de Broglie. A photograph of the painting now hangs on her studio wall, serving as a nostalgic reminder of the awe she felt from it as a child. Sarah’s passions eventually landed her at the Rhode Island School of Design, where she studied Apparel Design and racked up experience at labels such as Proenza Schouler, Peter Som, and Diane Von Furstenber, culminating in her senior thesis project, aptly titled, “Extra Verte.” Inspired by photographs of dense, moss covered rainforest and jungles, this collection of lush green, psychedelic pieces served as the jumping off point for her recently launched label, RICHARDS.

In a way, those little jokes are reflective of a certain ease to the RICHARDS collection. While the pieces bloom with eye-popping patterns, the garments themselves feature basic silhouettes and cuts, “totally wearable...a little like classic sportswear,” as Sarah describes. This simplicity provides a balance to the rich and intricate prints, and makes the pieces approachable and inviting.

Sarah is the type of artist whose work and medium are so completely woven into her identity that if she ever stopped, she would be lost. So, it comes as no surprise that the entirety of the RICHARDS collection is powered completely by herself, from conception to production, out of a tiny Bushwick studio.

Fashion is often intimidating by design, but RICHARDS takes the fear out of being bold. One gets the sense that wearing a RICHARDS piece is less about making a statement, and more about having fun and feeling excited by your clothes. This energy is what makes Sarah’s works so magnetic – they communicate the passion and enthusiasm for fashion she has felt her whole life.

The label debuted last year with a SS13 line of lush, nature-inspired digitally printed pieces: silky dresses wildly layered with mossy greenery; boxy cropped tops overflowing with collaged mountain landscapes; vibrant, oversized

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Local Love


So do Swiss chard, sage, rosemary, broccoli, radishes, kale, and also beans. Volunteers at Bushwick City Farms successfully transformed an abandoned lot into a small yet vigorous community-based farm, replete with 18 chickens, two ducks and a turkey. Previously a garbage heap of rotting wood, rusting metal and toxic needles, the squalid alley began its fruitful transformation when two clever people got a bright idea. The farm’s founders, Masha and Vinny, were able to compromise with the plot owner. Because it was an illegal dumping site the two offered to clean up the neglected space. This put an end to the violations and hefty monthly fines that plagued the landowner for years. In turn they finally had the opportunity to pursue their dream of building a rural oasis where urbanites can go for free produce, free education and a natural refuge. Now the city’s clamor and clang begins to fade as you pass through the tree-flanked gate and the synthetic din is replaced with a crescendo of chirps, clucks and exclamations like, “whoa, sick soil bed”.

today seek to make “food justice” a household word. This alternative ethos targets the flaws in today’s food system – specifically those whichresult in low-income neighborhoods being denied healthful options in favor of bulk efficiency and lower consumer costs. There is, however, another way to bring down costs while making more healthful options available. The regulations behind America’s food production are seen as severely lacking, not only as a direct cause to obesity and malnutrition but severe foodborne illness and death. Bushwick City Farms and other such community organizations hope the answer is through more educational programs encouraging urban dwellers will develop the know-how to build a miniature food production model in their very own windows, roofs or gardens. A large-scale revamping would keep practices safe from farm to plate. Though advocates for a better food system realize a transformation won’t happen overnight, they know that community-based educational programs and small urban farms are an important start.

Not only has the entire program been run solely by volunteers, but whatever they yield is given away for free. A motley crew of community members, curious children, families in need, a guy with a fixie and another with a PhD in agriculture, and even a beggar asking what he can do to help all line up to “take what they need and give what they can”. Eggs and produce aren’t the only goods they offer free of charge. The farm works with local public schools to “teach and reinforce responsible food production practices…and to get locally and student-grown veggies on lunch plates”. Some of these schools have programs that allow students a half day of hands on training in the real world. This month students are learning how to build chicken coops, fences and soil beds. Other such programs at the farm include beginner’s English as a Second Language (ESL) classes and how-to gardening lectures for schools interested in educating students about nutrition and the governmental policies behind how we get the food we eat.

After 5 years on the Broadway plot, manager Jason and other volunteers were finally able to expand. Across the street on Stockton sits a much larger plot, partially accessible through a hole in the fence. A site previously rife with criminal activity; gang meetings, drug deals, illegal dumping, even murder, the new farm plot is undergoing rehabilitation at this very moment. Their first job was to clean up the toxins in the soil so it could safely be used for planting. So far Jason and the team have rebuilt the fence, raised soil beds, and set several fruit tree boxes in place. They hope to plant in those boxes, build another chicken coop, and much more. Occasionally they host fundraisers with music, food and games, but most of their resources are donated by community members. So don’t wait for the next fundraiser –which won’t be until January, anyway – and come by to put your green thumb to work! You can check the hours and locations on their website.

The Bushwick City Farms’ philosophy stems from the need to fix the inequities of today’s food system – the production, marketing, and processing involved in producing and distributing food to consumers. Similar activist’s

For more info visit: 9

Local Love


It’s a bright, sunny Saturday on Bushwick Avenue and jewelry designer Lizz Jardim is formulating some plans.

“I always feel like I have to have this element of strength or masculinity,” she says.

Plan 1: A bike ride over to where her roommate is hanging out in Brooklyn. Then over to Leadbelly, the Lower East Side restaurant where she works. Plan 2: Taking the jewelry world by storm. As Jardim talks, she laughs easily and smiles often. She has a ring on almost every finger and is dressed in head-to-toe black, which allows her silver jewelry to steal the spotlight. Her apartment is open and spacious with a small studio carved out near the entrance. Hanging on the all-black walls by her stark white desk are silver chain necklaces of different lengths, creating the affect of a shiny metallic chain curtain.

The standout pieces of her collection are the body necklaces that can be worn and interpreted in a number of ways. Some can be worn like a vest. Other pieces wrap around the wearer’s back. The patterns created by the strands of chain are both geometric and elegant.

The 24-year-old started designing jewelry in 2008 as a “broke college student,” after she couldn’t find the kind of jewelry she wanted to wear available anywhere. And so the hobby and business were born. Made mostly of chain, her pieces are surprisingly delicate despite the edgier look of the material. The aesthetic is medieval armor meets Indian wedding jewelry meets Art Deco patterns.

“It’s about openness. It’s about seeing things. And everyone has a different perspective,” Jardim says. “And that’s the fun of it – everyone sees something different.” Even so, all the pieces clearly embody her unique spirit. Jardim is very much a living, breathing reflection of her work – beauty with a side of toughness. Jewelry a la Joan of Arc. “I feel like it’s that’s the idea.”


“A lot of it is architectural,” she says of her inspiration. “A lot of it is shadows. I find that shadows tend to make really cool patterns.” Growing up in Roosevelt Park, NJ, Jardim was a self-described tomboy – something that has also played a part in shaping her designs, which exude confidence and independence. 10

For more info visit:











CONOR BACKMAN by MAURICIO VARGAS The somber artist greets me with a friendly smile as he wipes the concentration from his eyes. Having been working for hours prior to our meeting, one immediately senses the amount of dedication he puts into his work. The gentleman walks me up to his second floor, two bedroom apartment / studio, which is neatly organized from the second you enter the kitchen. Clean dishes laid out for drying, bookshelf organized for future research delving, desk unconsciously laid out in grids for ease of finding office supplies, and walls covered by the work of friends and colleagues who have graciously traded works with a mutually respected artist.

next corner sits a nearly untouched, yet equally as deceiving, life-size painting depicting a window that has been covered with brown paper. In the middle of it all sits the conductor of this orchestra. From the room’s center he works on whatever he has set out to complete for the night, and from there he can easily float around the room to his other creations as needed, and reflect on prior nights’ creations whilst still managing to produce an idea that lay at his fingers. It’s this sort of diligence and organization that speaks to the artist that is Conor Backman: extremely well-versed in art history, and possessing a skilled hand that allows him to paint like a classicist and think like a contemporist.

We further the tour through his railroad-style apartment into his minimalist bedroom which leads to his studio, where Conor Backman is working on a new chapter of his art. Having moved here not even a year ago, it is apparent that he had come to New York with a very clear plan, and intentions of maximizing his productivity as an artist through whatever limited means possible. A poster child for midnight oil burining, he makes the most of his modest studio space through partitioning of scale and approach to his multifaceted works.

None of this comes as any surprise, having known Conor since our days at Virginia Commonwealth University. He’s always had his hand in the creative consciousness of the moment, including his co-creation of REFERENCE gallery in Richmond, Virginia, which offered something new to a city not necessarily known for its export of contemporary art. Now living in New York, Conor has entered a new door in his career, showing his work internationally, and he is determined to continue iterating on his past thoughts, while seeing what the life of an artist living in New York can bring.

In one corner sits a 20 x 24 painting hanging to dry on a wall, while an eisel lays empty as if tappings its toe to be put to use. At the opposite corner is a wall of tools and a small desk, upon which sits another painting the size of a postcard, equally as detailed as its counterpart across the room, and carrying over the same amount of realism despite the limitation of space. Finally at the

Conor and I sat down to discuss his transition from Virginia, the common themes carried across his works, and where he sees himself and his art career headed. 12

Hey Conor, how’s it going? Let’s start with where you came from. Your schooling, and time at Virginia Commonwealth University. How was that? I went to VCU because I was from Virginia, so it made sense, and I think it was a really good place to go to undergrad, it [VCU] gave me a lot of time to develop my work without the pressures that New York presents with all of the competitive environment with a lot of galleries around and the feeling that you need to make your rent every month. There’s none of that in Richmond. You can really focus on your work. It allowed me to do this gallery project [Reference Gallery], which I wouldn’t have been able to do in New York in the same way, without the pressures of sales. In Richmond, there isn’t a huge art scene, there’s a very supportive and strong community considering the size, but you don’t see a lot of outside art.

taking these examples of stories that involved a very visual metaphor for something that was exploring an idea about reproduction or mimesis, or deception, or trompe l’oeil. With Zeuxis and Parrhasius, the two painters with the grapes and the curtain, and Plato’s cave, the story of the Trojan Horse. You have a show coming up in the fall at Mixed Greens Gallery. How will this show differ from the past few solo shows? This show in the fall I think there will be a clearer theme to it, about the diorama, and that word as we know it today, is used to talk about these windows. Like at the natural history museum, these scale models recreating a slice of the world. These spaces involve painted backdrops, and recreated sculptural elements, so my work is somewhere in between object and flatness and sculpture. I also like the connection to what diorama actually meant, the early dioramas were camera obscuras, and were developed by Daguerre, a french painter who went on to invent photography, the Daguerreotype. One of the original photography processes. In some way this show is also about photography. A lot of my paintings start as photographs and I use photographs as source material, and they’re very photographic, often photorealistic. I wanted to make a show about the connection between painting and photography and the way I used it.

What initiated the opening ofReference Gallery? I was one of four who initiated the idea. We thought it was important to bring in work from outside, from other cities both as a way to introduce artists to our peers in Richmond and as a way for us to get exposed to people by meeting them and then if we were to show people from Richmond alongside people from New York, and it would kind of work both ways. It gave Richmond a voice outside of the city, and that was crucial to making an easier transition up to New York. I already had a bit of a community and I had met these people and worked with them, and I think the gallery is a generous thing. A positive thing. And it doesn’t feel competitive, as if you were another artist looking for the same slot. We were more interested in that community than making money off the gallery, which made it easier to get to know artists. How was the move from Virginia to New York? What caused it? New York has always made sense, it has its pros and cons, you have to be working more, of course before you can make a living off your own art. It’s always a balance feeling pressed for time with my own studio. Since graduating and moving to New York where have you been showing? I just had a solo show in Baltimore at Nudashank, they were awesome. I’ve worked with them for a long time, and Seth and Alex are awesome.

“Positive Feedback Loop”, Oil and ink on steel, 2012 10”X11.25”

On the thought of art history, your work reflects a heavy respects for the classics while still upholding a contemporary approach to art making. Is there any particular school of thought that you would say you relate to most? Part of the reason I work that way is because now, in this time, you don’t really have movements or “-isms” or schools of painting, and every approach is kind of open and possible at this point. I think that in a way informs the way I work, in that there are so many ways in which you can make a painting and there’s no right or wrong way, or accepted or popular way nowadays. Artists are able to pull from all time periods and they’re able to still make work that talks about current conversations, because there are so many conversations, and And we’re constantly referencing those older things anyways, you know we call a computer a “desktop” after the way you organize your desk and your letters and those folders and those physical things that we’ve had forever. We still relate to those things, and use those symbols to organize our world, and those are just basic examples, but I think a painting you see at the MET from 500 years ago still has the same physical presence and qualities as a painting from a year ago, or a month ago. I don’t think they’re really ever that different, and you can use previous conversations and movements as material now, rather than just using raw material like clay or paint to talk about something, you can actually use these art-historical conversations and these ideas as a material. So I’m really interested in that. Starting with the idea at the beginning of the process, in the way that you’d start with a material, letting the idea build the work as material.

A Home Gallery Doesn’t Need to Be Big, Just Somart* Installation at Reference Art Gallery

How has doing more solo shows helped you reflect on your own work? As I get my work together for upcoming shows, the themes are getting more succinct in a way. For the show I had at Reference last year, there really wasn’t a theme between the works, there was this overall theme of recreating a living space in the gallery like this Ikea display room, in which I built out this faux-Ikea display room. There was this overall theme of the installation, but the works that were in it didn’t connect in any specific way to the installation, it was more like they were set pieces in this larger theater. I was interested in trying to have a little bit more of a theme to it, at least give some guidance to the viewer as to how they could connect these works this time around. The work I made this winter and last fall, a lot of it was taking older classical stories from Greek mythology and philosophy,

Continue reading at: 13



photos by Gretchen Robinette


As you can see Jamaican Queens aren’t a troupe of cross-dressing voguesters operating just shy of the Nassau County line. I guess we’ll have to wait for the sexy-terrible hybrid of Mykki Blanco and the Lost Boyz’s Freaky Tah -- Le1f, I know you gotta boy. But that’s all right, because here at BLAAAH we’ve become quite familiar with the Motor City trio known as Jamaican Queens. Why? Because dudes have forged the powers of mod-pop and trap to form what they call “trap pop,” and we can’t seem to stop listening to it. Detroit’s latest darlings are set to play the Bushwick Block Party in July, so we seized the opportunity to clue you in to Mo Town’s latest export.

willing to divulge his feelings in a clever and concise manor. A manor which delivers the psychological basis for his role as an empathetic, self-deprecating romancer. “A lot of it’s relationship stuff, or lovelessness,” says Spencer. “This feeling that I don’t know if I have real emotional love in me, because maybe I do, I think. I think I do because I feel love. But, I haven’t found it. And I’ve made up this fairy tale of what love is supposed to be and because [I haven’t found it] it torments me a little bit. So, most of our songs are a combination of that and whatever is going on in my life at the time.”

Jamaican Queens have adopted and adapted the language of so many before them. A Motor City trio partially gassed on Adderall and a van full of broken equipment, reporting through a filter of what they refer to as Detroit trap pop. Forging and brandishing a style unique to their education and talents only hinted at in contributions to their former bands Ohtis and Prussia are Ryan Spencer (vocals/ guitar/sampler), Adam Pressley (vocals/bass/guitar/sampler), and Ryan Clancy (drums). Spencer, JQ’s potent lead, takes the helm over a Frankenstein bedding of hyphy 808 snare and hi-hat taps, pitchy synth bends, and fuzzy bass. He has the ability to morph his voice on a dime, and there’s nothing quite like the creepy thrill of hearing Spencer wrap his neck and face around the mic when he jumps into falsetto-mode. These arrangements consider contemporaries like progressive mod-poppers the Flaming Lips, MGMT, and Yeasayer, however deflect such prosaic parallels with their leanings toward the bleak and druggy side of modern hip-hop. For the casual, sure: JQ is Detroit trap pop. But, for those diggers out there, JQ is much more than a free mp3 on the next nouveau mix. Flashes of Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away”, Aaliyah’s “Are You That Somebody”, Destiny’s Child’s “Bills, Bills, Bills”, Sublime’s “Badfish,” and Brian Eno’s “Baby’s On Fire” are all laced into that first build and drop on album opener “Water.” “I can pick what I tried to copy on every song,” says Ryan Spencer. “If there’s something that I think is really awesome, I’ll try as hard as I can to bite it.”

Before their show at Glasslands back in January, the troupe sits around Abby Fiscus’ Bushwick apartment. Fiscus, a former resident of Detroit, is not only the face of Wormfood, but also contributed vocals to the album -- and supplied the photos and artwork for JQ’s two previous singles. “Every time you’re lonely, Every time you’re blue...just remember we’re all wormfood,” sings Fiscus on the album’s eponymous track. Her young, pail, bloodied face on the cover coupled with her numb, flat vocals contributes to the notion that JQ is the product of tainted youth. An emotionally detached disposition fostered by lovelessness in a city feared by it residents is the overarching theme of Wormfood, which covers topics ranging from unfulfilling relationships to the atrocities of gang rites. The album’s lead single “Kids Get Away,” which lends itself to a true story, eludes to the idea that continued communal indifference to petty crimes like tire slashing naturally elevates to greater malicious behavior. “She drove home [from a bar] and was getting into her house, and these kids--who were probably waiting in the bushes or something-came up to jump them and take their money. They had a knife and cut her face, and sliced down her eye and shit. They maced her boyfriend and took all their shit. But, I think she’s totally fine now, she just has a gnarly scar,” relays Spencer hunched over his crossed leg. “One of my friends, Mike…” continues Spencer. “He got his skull smashed in, right?” interrupts Fiscus while readying herself for the show. “Completely. They took his unopened bottle of wine and smashed it into his head. His whole skull shattered. It’s all fake now. At the ER they had to take his entire face off.”

He and Adam Pressley, a former bandmate of Spencer’s in the now defunct Detroit neofolk band Prussia, began to develop what is now Jamaican Queens back in 2011 while recording Prussia’s final album, Poor English, with Prussia Goes to the Disco: A Summer Mixtape. “Adam has always made rap beats that are really, really awesome,” says Spencer. “And we started living together. I remember one time driving he showed me some beats and I was like, ‘Dude, I just want to write stuff over this.’ So while Prussia was making Poor English, we actually made [Prussia Goes to the Disco]. Like hip-hop pop, like what we’re doing now. We were gonna call it Ryan Adams and release it for free.” Pressley follows up, helping out with the process of unforgetting. “We just did it as a way to get people to come to the [Prussia] shows. We were just too focused on the Prussia thing to even take it seriously. And as we were realizing that everyone else [in the band] had lives, we were just like, ‘Let’s do that.’”

“I live in Detroit and I’m scared, really scared of something like that happening to me because I’m the same way; negligent. I go out all the time and party like crazy and ride my bike home at like four in the morning. So, it’s like I don’t want to be riding my bike home wasted and have somebody fucking kill me,” says Spencer with a blink-less stare. “A lot of people get messed up and then they move to the suburbs. My parents hate that I live in Detroit,” adds Spencer. “I inherited a Rolex from my grandfather; my dead grandfather. It’s like a seven thousand dollar watch that he had his whole life. It’s really sweet, and I want to wear it all the time, but my dad will not let me have it. It’s like I can’t have it until I move somewhere else.” Ryan Spencer is 27 years old, pays around 200 dollars a month for rent and laughs about working a part-time job 12 hours a week. “If I worked any less I wouldn’t have a job. It’s the best job ever, and I still complain about it.” Despite the intermittent job and cheap rent, Spencer is about being able to afford what he really wants to do. And that’s why he’s there, in Detroit, and subsequently here in Brooklyn; without the fucking Rolex. Not for that nameless, menial part-time, but for his passion. One which happens to be rooted in a city which mauls its inhabitants.

They coined the term “trap pop” which makes it seem like somewhat of a lure -- an artifice to attract those swayed by “trending” culture. While the term is satisfied by the heavy dosage of Ableton-enabled 808 drum samples, radio-friendly hooks, and the horrific imagery prevalent throughout Wormfood, it seems predicated on JQ’s intuitive and cynical humor; the makeup of which is scrawled in the title of the album. A ruse only skin-deep. Oh pop, what are you really talking about? “You took my heart, and I just sat there drinking water,” croons Spencer in his best Eno coat during the first lines of “Water.” According to an interview with IFC, “Water” is loosely based on a tenuous, drug-induced romance at a festival. But Spencer isn’t about the mundane; he’s way too clever and open for that shit. He’s a man

For more info visit: 15



How much do you like to get high? A lot, I’m sure. But have you caught the new craze sweeping the nation? It’s called dab and it’s coming soon to a coffee table near you. Dab’s more on the trip of growers and the chronically pained, but why let them have all the fun? It’s not like we’re opposed to taking a couple two-tree pharmaceuticals here and there to liven up the vibe, but pills are lame (sometimes) so we figured we’d clue you in as to what everyone’s going to be toking this summer. Dab -- AKA BHO (butane hash oil), earwax, errl, budder, shatter, glass, 710, or oil -- is amber globs of almost pure THC rendered through a process of blasting and purging pot with butane. While you can certainly smear a lil dab on top of your breakfast bowl, the preferred method of ingestion is through a dab rig. This rig is essentially a bong fitted with a male “nail” piece that you heat up with a blowtorch. This allows the earwax to vaporize once it’s “dabbed” onto a nail. So fresh, so clean, fam. Hash is A-OK with us, but this shit’s way more powerful and yields a stone similar to your best times back in high school, or college or whatever. To clue us in on the dab craze, we got one of our favorite stoners to give us the skinny on freebasing the new wave of burner culture. Here’s what Erik Gage -- of Gnar Tapes & Shit, White Fang, the Memories and Free Weed -- had to say about dablature.

When did you first hear about dab? On tour somewhere, not sure exactly in which city or state I first heard the term. It was definitely something I picked up on from conversations with other bands or party people. Did that make you want to do it? Of course :-) What was the first experience like? It was at Burger Records, at a show, in the shop. It was a show for one of my bands, not sure which. The kid had a huge blowtorch and he kept talking about the lava rock that was in the piece. I was like whatever let’s rock, and I remember it hitting me. Honestly, I was pleasantly surprised about how potent the feeling was, and how quick it came on. I took as many hits as the kid would give me, which turned out to be a lot :-) Have you noticed more people using dab since trying it, or do you feel like it’s still pretty obscure in stoner culture? It’s mixed. Some people seem to know all about it, some people have never heard of it. I feel like it’s a fairly new concept for people, as the equipment required is kind of specific and I think expensive? All of my experiences with it have been with people I met on tour with my bands. I’ve done it mostly in California, but I have also done it in Texas. What’s your favorite nickname for dab? Hot drip, haunted wax, trippy sauce, dabble dots, etc. 420 vs 710? Buds are easier to smoke on the go. Better in the car on tour, while out on the town, in the back of the bar, etc. It’s simple to use and relatively easy to find. But dabs get you higher, for sure. If you smoke enough dabs it almost feels like the first time you got high. But it’s definitely an art to get it just right. If you don’t pace the hit right, like controlling your breath and choosing when to exhale (I like to break it into like 2-3 rips), you can cough really hard. In San Francisco, at a friend’s house coming back from tour recently, a few of my friends (including Unkle Funkle) and I drank about two 40s

of malt liquor each and were dabbing out really, really hard with a friend. The dude was trying to test us I think. He makes the stuff -- tons of it and all kinds -- and I think he was pushing us far to see how tough we could hang. We were all killing it; just dabbing out over and over and over and smoking bowls and drinking malt liquor and eating delivered pizza. I had just taken a huge, huge hit -- it was extended out like a long drip, but the shit was sticky as hell so it wasn’t dripping; it was just long as fuck. I hit it like a fuse being lit, just slowly submerging this huge dab. I hit it and was coughing and laughing when I saw Unkle Funkle get up from his sleeping back on the floor in the kitchen (it was in the early AM hours of a Tuesday morning) and beeline to the bathroom. I’m like, uh-oh, that doesn’t look good. He had just taken a huge dab like me, maybe even longer, and had pounded two 40s pretty fast before that, so dude was spinning. We all looked at him as he tried to open the bathroom door. The door to the bathroom kind of sticks in that apartment, but he thought someone was in the bathroom and just lost it. He spewed straight onto the floor, then pulled his shirt off and started trying to puke into it but it just squirted in huge globs out the sides of his dirty shirt, which just made the destruction worse. I think he puked in the other room too at some point trying to grab another shirt to clean up the mess. I was just screaming and hiding my face in my shirt on the couch. Will you ever write a song about dab? I don’t know for sure. I’m sure it’ll pop up in some lyrics. I really should write one about the above story tho, lol.

For more about White Fang visit: 16





FIVE POSSIBILITIES by MELANIE JANE PARKER illustration by Maximilian Bode


I. a. In 1909, Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud were invited to speak at a conference in Massachusetts. They traveled by boat from England to the United States. For most of their seven weeks on the cobalt sea, Jung and Freud wore good tweed, smoked cigars, and spent afternoons and evenings discussing their dreams. Thus began the disintegration of this legendary friendship. b. Young woman, long blonde hair, speaking into cell phone, Fort Greene, Brooklyn: “I’m not vapid. I am not empty.” c. Birthday dinner: • Orecchiette • Parmesan, pine nuts (non-allergenic kind) • White beans, arugula • Olives, walnuts • Fresh bread, goat cheese d. There are two climates in the state of Florida: subtropical (north and central) and tropical (south). There are five seasons in the state of Florida: archery season (July 28-August 26), crossbow season (July 28-August 26), muzzleloading gun season (September 1-September 14), general gun season (September 15-October 14, November 17-January 6), and sinkhole season (February-July). Sinkholes often occur naturally, though are sometimes caused by abrupt shifts in hydrostatic pressure caused by the rapid depletion of aquifers and soil. Effects of a sinkhole include but are not limited to: disappearance of land; disappearance of lakes and ponds; disappearance of structures; disappearance of people. e. We were on vacation with family in an old weatherbeaten house by the water. An enormous technicolor bird with four legs came down from the sky. It begged my affection. I was afraid at first but eventually warmed to him.

II. a. 2007: I went to Buenos Aires. I thought about writing. Most of my time was spent walking around trying to find a starting point, some scene that would distill the character and temperature and condition of not only Argentina but all of South America. The elections were fast approaching, the unions were fired up, people were actually dying. The jacaranda trees blooming all around Marxist protestors in the Plaza de Mayo. I saw a skinhead with a swastika sewn on the breast pocket of his jean jacket, and he was holding the hand of a brownskinned woman, and she was holding a baby. The museums were free so I went often. One afternoon, an elderly man requested that I escort him through the galleries, so I did. I drank lots of espresso, whiskey, Cuban rum, and cheap beer. You can drink on the street there, no problem. I ate fresh pasta and fruit and fava beans. A Bolivian woman sat on an orange crate and shucked the beans right on the corner of a major intersection. It cost less if you bought a bag of whole unshucked favas and did the hard work yourself. b. Man singing on 6 train between Fulton Street and Union Square, Sunday morning, 9:32 a.m.: “Be careful little eyes what you see / Be careful little eyes what you see / There’s a father up above / And he’s looking down with love so / Men don’t you look at women’s butts!” c. Places to Go When We Have More Money: An Abbreviated List • The Center for Land Use Interpretation — Texas, New York, California, New Mexico • Elsewhere — Greensboro, North Carolina • The Museum of Jurassic Technology — Los Angeles, California • The Institute for Figuring — Los Angeles, California • Fayette, Michigan • Hancock, Michigan • St. Elmo, Colorado • Chaco Canyon, New Mexico • Bodie, California • Freud Dream Museum — Vienna, Austria • The Velaslavasay Panorama — Hollywood, California • Mutter Museum — Philadelphia, Pennsylvania • Glore Psychiatric Museum — St. Joseph, Montana • UFO Museum & Research Center — Roswell, New Mexico d. The 5 Fears • Fear of death • Fear of illness • Fear of losing your mind • Fear of losing your livelihood • Fear of public speaking e. I slept on pillows fashioned in the shape and likeness of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. Side by side, facing one another.


III. a. In early 1979, two earthquakes of considerable force hit Southern California. In July 1979, Werner Herzog wrote, “San Francisco. Emptiness.” Around that time, Herzog’s travel reading included In Patagonia by Bruce Chatwin, the King James Bible, and a book of Spanish grammar. Two months earlier, Dan White had been convicted of voluntary manslaughter for the fatal shooting of Supervisor Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone. The LGBTQ community took violent action in protest of the relatively lenient sentence, in what came to be known as the White Night riots. In August 1979, an earthquake measuring 5.9 on the Richter scale hit Coyote Lake and was felt in San Francisco. In October 1979 an earthquake measuring 6.4 on the Richter scale caused significant damage in Imperial Valley and Coachella. In 1999, the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival was established in Indio, California, located eighty-six miles north of Mexicali, the northernmost city in Latin America. In his book-length essay, The Idea of Latin America, Walter D. Mignolo argues that Latin America is a construction borne by the inextricable twin phenomena of modernity and colonialism. b. Middle-aged man and young perky barista, Fort Greene, Brooklyn: • “How have you been?” • “Pretty terrible.” • “Oh no, I’m so sorry!” • “Yeah, you know, it’s just one of those times where everything is falling apart, and catastrophically so.” c. Much to my dismay, I find myself hoping that Dick Wolf will loosen his titan’s grip on the Law & Order franchise and concede to canceling the new incarnation of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, which—sans Christopher Meloni—is but a gaudy shell of its former self. d. February 23, 2013: Existential theory of the radical separation of the individual. Boundary around experience. Given the truth of our lives, how can we help one another? e. My high school boyfriend had a new girlfriend, whom he referred to as “my housewife.”

IV. a. On December 17, 2010, Tarek al-Tayeb Mohamed Bouazizi, a twenty-six-year-old Tunisian fruit vendor, self-immolated in the streets of Sidi Bouzid. A response to government harassment, repression, and neglect, this action catalyzed the seismic social, cultural, and political movement known as the Arab Spring. In January 2012, recording artist M.I.A. released the first single from her fourth album, entitled “Bad Girls.” The chorus (“Life fast / die young / bad girls do it well”) as well as the music video (filmed in Morocco, released in February 2012) allude to the Women to Drive Movement, a campaign reinvigorated by the Arab Spring. The Movement advocates for the right of women to operate vehicles on public roads in Saudi Arabia. b. Young female passenger on the Long Island Railroad, speaking into cell phone: “I’m going to need to borrow your Gucci bag.” [pause] “Um. Are you kidding me?” [pause] “I let you borrow that Louis Vuitton bag for like, forever. I let you take it on two vacations.” [pause] “I hate you.” c.

To Do: • Don’t waste energy, don’t waste time • Don’t spent too much money • Don’t drink too much coffee • Don’t talk too much • Write something • Buy groceries • Take a walk • Do laundry • Feed cats

d. The Hindu lord Shiva was an ascetic, a hermit, a farmer, and a carpenter. e. My grandmother lays out dishes of egg salad and watermelon, a pitcher of lemon water, sliced cucumbers, and tomatoes. A great wind comes across the pond. My grandfather is hard of hearing and his bald head is cold and his wife’s hair is all out of place—oh!

V. a. In an interview with Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain, Iggy Pop stated: “I was no longer happening. I was fucking up, and fucking up, and losing, and losing. I was also losing my charms. If you don’t have the goods and the charms, you don’t get the girls. This is America, you know.” b. Young woman on Q train, on Manhattan Bridge, 2:31 p.m.: “America’s got so much corruption. You got white collar crimes, blue collar crimes.” c. When I was eighteen years old, I imagined that by age twenty-six I would have: • a child • a garden • a burgeoning career d. I am bound and limited. I think I am here and not everywhere else. I think I am a certain age and living in a particular year. I think I am not full or whole. I think my actions do no have an effect beyond my immediate life. I think I only know a few things. e. I was living in a house equipped with its own private subway entrance. As Carl Jung once said, “Not bad.”





illustration by Anastasia Mouyis


I watched her cross the street. She was on the phone looking around. “Look up and to the right,” I told her over the phone. She followed the instructions and saw me standing up on the balcony. I put my good hand up in the air. She smiled and got off the phone and walked over. I sat back down, cradling my bad arm to my chest. I listened to her walk up the steps. She came up and was still smiling and when she saw my arm wrapped up she shook her head. “Look at you.” I stood up and pulled out a chair for her on the balcony. “Want a beer?” I asked her. “I’m O.K.,” she said. She took off her sunglasses, and her freckles and her brown hair made me feel good that she’d come. I looked out into the street and sipped on my beer. “So what happened?” she asked me. “Well. Hell. You know me.” She laughed. That sounded good too. “Wanna smoke?” she asked me. “O.K.” She packed a bowl with fresh tree and handed it to me. Her lighter had a zebra print on it. “No one knows I’m staying here. Don’t tell my secret,” I told her. “Don’t worry.” The wind was picking up. From up on the balcony we could see a storm creeping our way. “Is there anything I can do about it?” she asked me. “I just put a fresh wrap on it. I think I’m good. I appreciate you paying a visit before I skip town.” “I don’t know when I’m going to see you next.” “Me neither. I appreciate you coming.” She crossed her brown legs. There was a small tattoo high on her thigh. Tough. Cute. “I’m gonna get out of here one of these days,” she said. “Oh yeah?” She gave me a look like I said something offensive. “I will,” she said. “O.K.!” I threw up my good hand. “I hope I see you out there. I’ll be the first one to visit.” I drank my beer. “You can start by coming to see me.” “I will.” “Uh huh. I’ve heard that before.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Hey…” I let it hang there. We looked at each other a while, then she looked down at her shoes. The wind was getting stronger. We watched a plastic bag roll across the empty parking lot across the street. A woman was getting into the last car. The car started and she rolled to the exit of the parking lot slowly, idled a moment there even though it was a side street rarely driven down. Maybe she was on her phone. Maybe she was figuring out what radio station to listen to. Then she turned out and disappeared. “What are you going to do tonight?” she asked me. “I think I’m going to stay in.” I finished my beer. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. You should probably head out here soon. That storm’s coming. Don’t want to get caught out in it.” She looked out into it. Then she smiled and stood up and I stood up with her. She hugged me very lightly, being careful of my arm. I kissed her cheek. I didn’t mean to but she didn’t make it awkward and I was grateful for that. “Thanks again for stopping by,” I said. “Of course. Please take care of yourself, Levy.” “Hey. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, huh?” “Yeah yeah.” I watched her walk down the stairs and onto the street and away from me. I went inside the apartment. None of the lights were on and no one was home. I walked down the long hallway and turned on a light in the living room and sat down on the couch and turned on the television. I watched a movie with Bill Murray. A quarter into it the rain came. It came down heavy almost instantly. I looked at my phone. I looked at some old text messages. I texted a friend and it said, “Tonight?” I got a text back a few minutes later saying, “I have to stay in after last night. It’s really coming down too! I’ll see you before you scoot, buddy!” I drank my last beer and looked out the window. It was dark now, still raining. I put on my jacket and my shoes and zipped up the jacket and put my hood over my head and went outside. The wind was whipping around and I pulled the strings to tighten the hood and walked down the steps and into the street. It was a good several blocks to get to the bar I wanted to get to. The rain had gotten through the jacket some and with the air conditioning in the place blasting it put a chill in me. I draped the jacket on a bar stool and sat next to it. There were about four people in the place. A few seats down a woman a few years older than me drank a cocktail. The bartender came up and asked what I was going to be having. “High Life. Shot of Wild Turkey too. That oughta warm me up.” The bartender nodded and went to his task. “That stuff ’ll put hair on your chest,” the woman a few seats down said. She had a rough voice. Probably a pack a day. “Guess you better stick to what your drinking then, huh? What is that?” “Vodka cranberry,” she said. “Get her another one of those, my good man.” She scooted down a couple seats. “That’s very gentlemanly of you.” “I’ve been called one of those on occasion.” She had her lipstick on. Eye shadow too. She wore boots that came all the way up to her knees. In the summer time. The rest looked fine. If you didn’t care about tomorrow. “Start a tab?” the bartender asked me. I slid a card across the bar and stood up. As I passed her, I said, “Be right back.” I walked into the bathroom and into one of the stalls and unzipped. I looked up on the wall. In a fat black marker, someone had written: “Never cut your hair.” I started to piss on the seat of the toilet. Then I slowly began to turn from the toilet and pissed on the wall, high and low and in loops, as if I were writing in cursive. With my penis. Then I finished, zipped up, washed my hands, and walked back to the bar. She was still there and so were our drinks.





I came home from Picture Menu, but things felt different, like an autobiography, not like the biography life has been for the past six months or so, and you say, “You’re not making any sense right now, Keith.” And I say, “You obviously don’t know me well enough to write a book about me.”

so much information with which to work. Honestly, I can only imagine how lazy writers will truly be by the time I die; it’s only six years after Vonnegut died, and writers are stealing shit from places like American Apparel for source material— that’s about as lazy as it gets. That’s not even like a Quarter Pounder. That’s more like a Filet-O-Fish. I can tell you with full certainty that Ray Kroc never noodled for a fish in his life; but I’ll be damned, neither have I. I’ll tell you another thing— I pay for the fucking clothes on my back, with cash, not credit (like my dad taught me). I don’t steal them. I pay for them. Stealing is for suckers. Working like a mill worker, trying to figure out how to become the Queen amongst a grid of board members is key. Once you accept that being Queen is key, not being King, biography and autobiography can be merged. Kurt was a Queen; I want to be a Queen, too. Kurt died exactly one day after I was born, twenty-two years after I was born. Maybe I have twenty-two years and twenty-four hours to figure out my move? But I guess that would mean I now have approximately sixteen years to figure out my move. But really, why do I want to use these numbers as measure for meaning in my life? It could be any numbers, right? But maybe everything is connected, like some sort of multi-lateral lattice work, in which case, we must all take control. The side effects of being under the influence of dead people is so great, in many senses, but it is also quite grave. I think the twenty-two part is null. I think the twenty-four is what counts. When my body is found, I want my biographer to focus on the day when I figured out my move. I want my most selfish moment to seem selfless, because I am actually really selfish. You can’t be a great artist without being selfish. Great artists don’t steal; they take. Someone else said that before me. I took it. Oh, and fuck the New York Historical Society.

I thought about getting takeout, but I don’t like the gut feeling of having just swallowed a tire; I am not rubber-made, and I am not anchored by shitty rim jobs. The side effects of being under the influence of dead people is so great, in many senses, but it is also quite grave; you can take the side effects and turn them into full frontal affects, and that is like the warning on the side of a medication or the number of calories in a Quarter Pounder— the most misleading meal ever. At home, I could smell chicken fingers or maybe it was chicken wings, or maybe it was “nachos grande”; sometimes the scent of death is so great, in many senses, and now, I feel sturdy in this water that fills my body, from head to toe. I have been drinking so much water ever since I fell in the deep end of adulthood. I have been peeling back ivy-coated flowers ever since I fell into the upper crust of the Northeast and settled in to the shotgun seat of passive aggression that I watch from across the center console I am told is the divider between me and success (says a board member at The New York Historical Society). I don’t care about what he says though; I do care about what my biographer says about me when my body is finally found, which is why I am giving him or her

View more work by Keith J. Varadi at


Bat Haus

Bushwick Coworking

MONDAY to FRIDAY 9AM to 7PM Events nights & weekends 279 Starr Street Brooklyn NY 11237


311 N. Main Street Farmville, VA 23901 | 434 391 1066


Summer is looking bright for Aries. Kick it off with a makeover or spend time beautifying. It’s a good time to fall in love for you but chill out on more solid negotiations. August is better for firmer affairs & cash money will flow your way.


Bull’s Head by PABLO PICASSO

Speak your mind because you’ll be able to find the right words to do so this Summer. Adjust your budget and begin good investments. You may see little love at first Taurus but stay patient as August brings dreamier daze.


Gemini try not to be too extravagant early this summer. Remember to keep it frugal and you’ll keep good looks. The rest of the heat brings a steamy love life. Enjoy the weather and try to be the bigger man when fights flare up.


CANCER Summer begins with romance & money is ample in your hands if you put your roots down. Later on your emotions link up with your identity. Take the lead in emotional affairs and you’ll be looking good Cancer.

Take a moment to look into what lies for you in the stars this season. Our celestial sister Jenna Lynn Cecilia has pored over the heavenly bodies for insights and visions into life, prosperity, and love, to guide your earthly vessel on a positive course this Summer. Will this be your summer of love, or will it be a time of turning into oneself only to spring forth stronger and hotter in your Fall? Open yourself to the possibilities of your summer ‘scope.



Jacob Ram Head by HAMISH MACKIE


Still Life with Crab by PIETER CLAESZ CATOR



Money can be a tool for growth when the weather is hot. Use it wisely to stay rejuvenated. Your psychic senses are strengthened with spiritual knowing. Keep an eye focused on the future.


Summer is all about rest for you Leo. Exercise your need for balance to make the most of your spiritual vision(s). Honor your fears by facing them.


Capricorn, this summer will rule for you if you steady your patience. Remember there is no I in team and cooperation leads to success. Listen to others’ ideas and they will listen to you.


Virgo the humanitarian gets worked up in the heat. Try not to be selfish and share your energies with others. Feel the need for daily romance & spiff up your reborn talents.


Untitled by ALEXANDER Untitled by BETH NOE

Pallas Athena by VAN LEYDE


Lion Glicee by ALBRECH


Quiet time is essential to keep your mind up in this heat Aquarius. Your thoughts are grand and your feelings are ready to commit to responsibilities. End of summer promises a hot bod. Start a new diet or amp up your exercise routine to stay fresh.


Balanced Libra feels friction in the home. Take care of family matters because your success is built on inner foundation. You’re known as the master of public relations, so create a good bottom line and people will be on the same page.


Scorpio et Libra by GERARDUS ME Two Fish by THEODOR SEUSS GEISEL

Sweet Pisces has the sweetest hopes and dreams. Lighten up and express your creativity. Clarity helps your vision expand. Peace out on summer with a nice trip or getaway.


Scorpio’s a leader this summer. Your intuition is on blast and you’ll find new meetings of mind with enhanced ambitions. Really believe in what you’re saying and the rest will work out.






“Surface forms not afield” Oil on canvas on panel, 24” X 36”, 2012



“Painting Palettes, no. 2”, Oil on canvas on panel, 16”X12”, 2012


Conor Backman

“Painting Palettes, no. 4”, Oil on canvas on panel, 24”X18”, 2012



Untitled from the series “Canvas is Struck with Sticks” each oil on canvas, 12”x12”-14”x14”, 2011-12


Conor Backman

Untitled from the series “Canvas is Struck with Sticks” each oil on canvas, 12”x12”-14”x14”, 2011-12

View more work by Conor Backman at






“A New Hope� Bathroom wall mounted vertically in bedroom, varying dimensions, 2011



“Pick-up Sticks”, found objects, dimensions variable, 2012.


Evan Robarts

“Molecule #5a�, found objects, steel threading, dimensions variable, 2010.



“Cube, Multi-Color”, marker, gloss medium on paper, 30” x 40”, 2011.


Evan Robarts

“Cube, Brown”, marker, gloss medium on paper, 26” x 40”, 2011. View more work by Evan Robarts at








Amy Lombard




Amy Lombard

View more work by Amy Lombard at


SHELF LIFE We took a look at the lives of a few of our favorite creatives, through the exploration of the objects on their shelves. photography by JOSEPH TALMAN


Miyako Bellizi Transplanted to New York from her hometown of San Francisco, Miyako Bellizi is a lady of many talents. From photographer, to fashion stylist and jewelry designer, Miyako brings a touch of the Bay in everything she touches, along with an ever apparent respect for her Japanese background, and her current stomping grounds, New York City. This can be seen clearly in the objects she has displayed below. (in order from left to right) - Homies! What can I say about the homies? They remind me of growing up. You always see them at the right time, at the vending machine, you’re like Oh hell yeah! I gotta get one!

- I got the fan when I was a teenager because I used to be a Japanese dancer, in Japanese traditional dance. It was, some good times.

- The cigar, we got from a friend. He went to Cuba, and brought us back a cigar.

- The bookend (woman’s head) was a gift from my friend, Alexis Gross, Alexis gave it to me when she was moving out, and I love them so much, they’re really sick.

- The camera was my fuckin’ craziest Christmas present I ever got, from Eddie. The photos have been so beautiful so far.

- This record that is playing is Curtis Mayfield, Superfly from the Superfly movie, it’s one of my favorite records, it reminds me of New York so much.

- The skull bong I got in Union Square. I had cash in my hand, I saw it and I did the double take, like What is that? I had to get it.

- That’s a picture of my mother in the back behind the record, of her at the Guggenheim in the 70s. My mom went to VCU, and so did my dad.

- The scarf is my boyfriend Eddie’s. It’s a beautiful scarf, of the city that I’m from. We’ll put it on the table to display shit. He collects hella San Francisco memorabilia. It’s crazy, he has so much shit!

- And there’s a photo, one of my favorite photos in the back that I printed, in my only photo class that I’ve ever taken, that I failed! Because I wanted to do my own photos, not the course work.

- My dad gave me the yellow toy car. He said that he bought me a car, and I got all excited, in high school, and then he shows up and gives me this car. But, it’s still tight. That’s my dream car, it’s gonna be a Cadillac El Dorado.

- Those sunglasses I got in California, but they broke when I went to Mexico, and they’re super rare, like Italian 60’s sunglasses. I could probably get ‘em fixed, I have a sunglass dude.

- This matchbook I found in my grandmother’s drawer, because I always go through all of her stuff when I go back home. It’s from her and my grandfather’s wedding in the 1950’s. -. Pins! Well, I collect pins, and I love pins, and I wear them on a lot of my shit, for my clothes and stuff.

- The skull dice necklace: I make those for myself and for my friends. I wear this all the time. Probably one of my favorites. - The shelf itself, we got for twenty bucks, at this store in Carroll Gardens, it was sick, we walked by it and we were like “fuck, we have to have this, perfect for our record player.

- I picked up the skeleton man in Tulum, Mexico, where I went for the first time this past January.


Othelo Gervacio Immersed in the creative graffiti culture from a young age, Othelo Gervacio has taken from his Virginia Beach roots, paying hometown homage while fusing influences from his time in New York. Dark and humorous India ink paintings, and typographical feats of mastery make up a portion of the visual magic for which Gervacio has found a great footing. From assisting Scott Campbell, to his own solo show at Fuse Gallery in New York, Gervacio has collected not only a collection of memories, but a shelf full of relics from his experiences. Here are a few he decided to share with us. (in order from left to right) - We’ve got this sword back there, that I literally once killed a man with.

- The sage is from when we first moved into our house.

- Little fur families, is a little book that Yenna got, from an antique shop in Danville, Virginia.

- A Dash Snow button with the mouth, gap tooth from an old series of buttons that he made, and he made little buttons with them.

- The oil things are different scented little potions, from The House of Voodoo in New Orleans. One is essential oil for dreams and visions, and another one for happiness and purification.

- We got skate dudes up there, skate army dudes that Yenna’s mom gave me for Christmas last year.

- Next to that is a High Hopes patch, that came from a Wes Lang ‘zine. - There’s a little vial with some rat bones, that look like a hand, Yenna got somewhere. - A funny matchbook, that says Oh Baby, and one of the matches is the kid’s boner. - There’s a Mexican little motif there, that one of my friends got for me from Mexico.

- There’s a Hindu magic trick card back there, that I got off ebay for some magic research for a show coming up. It’s an L.A. group show. - That patch is like an old air force, something from like the Vietnam War. - DL & Co. candle skull thingamajig - The star trooper. The trooper dude is actually the late legendary Beau Velasco’s old childhood toy, that his brother left here, when he passed away.

- A little mini dagger, also from Danville, Virginia.

- Underneath of it is a little painting box thingamajigger that Jocelyn Wilkerson made. It’s the Pope, the last Pope, the German. It’s him in his younger days, he actually looks like Emperor Palpatine.

- An old Zippo lighter that I once set a whole building on fire with.

- There’s a Five Leaves matchbox, that I did the graphic for.

- There’s a switchblade comb that I had when I was a kid, that I keep. It’s one of the coolest things I own.

- To the right of that we’ve got a Slayer patch, one of my all time faves.


Julia Chiang At once striving for perfection and rollicking in the unevenness of handcrafted works, Julia Chiang works in a range of media from ceramic chain links to acrylic on wood to ring pop candy. Through repetition and re-creation of clichés, Chiang conveys both the sincerity and the absurdity of expressions of love, longing, and the human condition. The elements intended for perfection are bound to flaws by their very nature, despite their best intentions and most sincere messages. The disparity between the emotion and its real outcome is enough to make one cry, or laugh out loud. Here are a handful of inspirations and obsessions she’s shared with us to convey a deeper view of her world. (in order from left to right) - A piece made by my love, KAWS. It’s a bronze incense holder.

- An old friend, Jean-Noël Herlin, sends postcards that he paints for the holidays. This is one I love from 2011. He’s an amazing guy who has created one of the most in depth archives of artist ephemera that I know of.

- I love enamel pins and for a friend’s new company I made these as a giveaway based on one of my paintings. My first pin and I want to make more! - This highly detailed painted gourd is from Ecuador. I have what I consider extended family in Ecuador and I got to visit their farm and home for the first time in 2008. This is just one of the many things that remind me of them and all that I love there.

- Front and center is All For You, an edition of ceramic apples I made for The Standard. I made a few tests to get the color right and this is one of them. It was a unique edition of 50, glazed ceramic. - I think I’ve had the brass horse head bookends since 2000. My neighbor at the time put out a bunch of books and “junk” on his stoop and I took the horse heads and they’ve been with me since.

- I love this piece Brian brought me from one of his trips to Japan. It’s made by the artist Kensei Yabuno. - The piece of candy from a Felix Gonzales-Torres sculpture. He is one of my favorite artists and along with other beautiful work, he created stacked paper and candy piles where people are invited to take from.

- My dad and I share a love for hand crafted objects and horses. He found this I think in Atlantic City of all places and gave it to me. - To the left of the horse is my mini Accomplice made by my love, KAWS.

- The object in the back is from a road trip with Brian (my partner in crime). We went to El Santuario de Chimayo in New Mexico and there were all these locals selling chillies and handcrafted objects.

- Under that is my the box from when I did a show with colette in Paris in 2012, we made a few products together and this is the candle we made.

- In the middle are a couple plants. I have many plants that just live in water. I’m not even sure what the name of this plant is, but you can cut pieces off and put them into water and they will grow roots and continue to thrive.

- My shark pen is a souvenir from Martha’s Vineyard. Brian and I were there for our friends’ wedding last summer and we found this on our last day there. - My lucky hammer rests in the background Someone left this in my studio when I was on residency at the Henry Street Settlement in 2003 and I’ve never broken anything installing with it yet.

- Next to that is spare succulent from a recent edition I made. I made small ceramic vessels named from names and places people sent to me and each comes planted with a succulent. They’re good easy company.

- Artist Carlos Cons from Mexico City, and he’d leave me these plastic toy animals at my studio, while on residency at Vermont Studio Center in 2002. - One of my finds from Mexico City in 2010. I love it there, and I got to go with Brian for a project he was doing, and as he worked I wandered.


MIX Tyler The Creator opens up like a burning shot of whiskey, nasty and rude, telling you the truth you don’t want to hear. DJ Devlon doesn’t waste any time or politeness getting things started and neither does the flask of Old Grandad Bourbon, but before you know it the Miller High Life takes over and the jam shifts into a heady ambience reminiscent of Antony and the Johnsons, crooning as you wrap your arms around the night and drop low, a body left out in the wind and abandoned to the feelings that come without thought or reflection. Echoes of Miguel and R&B soul samples settle into a groove tailor-made as the soundtrack to decisions you may or may not regret, but certainly won’t forget anytime soon. Have a listen at : or scan below


There’s no misconstruing a tequila cocktail -- ordering one says you’re looking to get away, to forget your troubles and be transported to a beach and a spot in the shade, or at least somewhere far from sobriety. VACATIONLAND’s dreamy disconoir rhythms, hip hop hooks, and travelogue whispers lend to the evening an air of forgetfulness, a willingness to step out of one’s head and onto the dancefloor. Down another Rush Hour and you’ll find yourself calling the shots and leading the booty train across the floor, wondering only later how you ended up in a stranger’s arms, with only the tequila to thank. Have a listen at : vacationland-14-tequila-rush or scan below


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Nestled under the Williamsburg Bridge, The Donna offers a perfect hideout from the Bedford bar crawl while shelling out the fun. The arched ceilings and mission revival architecture lend it a romantic atmosphere ready to strip down any apprehensions you may have had upon entering. Owner Leif Huckman, previously a manager at FREEMAN’S NYC and the beverage director at Goat Town, conceived The Donna out of a desire for a good late night bar on the South side of Williamsburg, a penchant for lively cocktails, and a vibe inspired by his Honduran background. DJ’s spin tracks most weekends and the cocktails and bar menu are sure to delight. ask for the

Old Grand-dad Two 1.5 oz shot glasses 200ml Flask of Old Grand Dad Two bottles of Miller High Life


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Born out of an East Village winter tailor-made for gulping down smokey cocktails and roasted bar food, The Wayland masterfully pairs up its classic rustic airs with tequila, rum, and citrus for hot summer nights. Soul, funk, hiphop and 70s rock keep the mood grounded while indie and bluegrass bands liven up the bar a handful of nights a week. Come for the smoke-infused artisan cocktails and sure-to-please bar menu, stay for the scene of low-key twenty- and thirtysomethings getting real about anything from Foucault to Odd Future. ask for the

Tequila Rush hour 2. 0 oz blanco Tequila 1.5 oz great fruit juice .5 oz fresh lime juice .74 oz agave nectar 1 jalapeño and cucumber slice muddled Double strain over alternating ice and cucumber Garnish with smoked salt and a sliced jalapeño






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