I’m obsessed with this highly-accurate Hellboy 2019 collectible figure sculpted and painted by Hot Toys.
Finally got Geralt and Eredin, great figures by McFarlane Toys from a legendary game series.
Finally got the Killadelphia Vol. 1 and I am amazed with the mesmerizing art and storytelling by Rodney Barnes and Jason Alexander. Damn!
I have spent this weekend sitting on my sofa, reading Paul M. Sammon’s Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner and eating cheesecake.
Feeling shattered from days and weekends of doing, being and going I simply needed to sit and switch off.
And that is what I did.
I read the news with my cereals. I had coffee and toast for lunch and 2 ounces of whisky and cheesecake for…well for afternoon loveliness.
I did not worry about going out the house, about cleaning, about being productive or useful. I simply indulged.
Around 3pm today, Sunday, I thought I would sit and start to write a post I have been meaning to get some words down about for a while, and I found that my relaxing had worked so well that my brain simply refused. I tried doing a little research, a little typing, but still my brain said ‘no’.
I don’t blame my brain, but I said to it, I have to write a blog post, I made a solemn promise to myself to blog at least once a week.
‘Tough,’ said my brain.
Fair enough, I thought, can’t really argue with that.
I miss the ancient art of making a properly executed mixtape.
Radical skepticisim is intellectual slavery.
Broke two fingers stopping a bar fight from happening.
Be aware of your surroundings.
Have an exit plan.
Be friends with the bouncers.
The bouncers always win. There are too many of them, they’re prepared, and they fight like a team.
It’s like fighting Rome.
If you can’t stop it -lead it!
I say $50/hr is the bare minimum in the art world for bothering to lift a finger for any client.
I don’t think I could live in a place that made bad Negronis.
The monumental eagle - fabricated by Madero / Co. - is finaly in Los Pinos.
All of life is a continuous state of wonder interrupted by bedtime and the pursuit of snacks.
There was a time in my life when I would meet a man at a bar and I would take him outside and lay him on the floor, and I would beat him down to almost death. And… and the universe would reveal itself to me, and it was beautiful. And I felt part of every time and every place that had ever existed. It… It was my religion.
But now, it… It’s like a job.
And it makes me really fucking sad. And I don’t wanna get emotional, but, um, I’m having a hard time. But then, I read an article about the great Francis Ford Coppola. He said something that blew my fucking mind. He said, “I’ve not made an original film since the conversation in 1974. I am not sure I’m capable of it, but I really wanna keep trying.”
And then it hit me like a sack of bricks. Here’s a man who’s in the middle of his artistic decline… Is he running from it? No, he’s embracing it. So, I’m like… What am I doing? What if I embrace where I’m at right now?