saturday cool
By Anna | March 27, 2010 | No Comments
So, this is a bit of bad photo, but you get the general idea (that idea being AWESOMENESS). This is Conspire , AKA totally bitchin coffee shop/art gallery/anarchist library. We visited, all too briefly while were in Phoenix, and I can’t wait to go back. It’s fantastic. Check out their Spraygraphic profile for more info, and if you’re in the area stop by!
mohawk mondays
By Anna | March 22, 2010 | No Comments
Do you see it? Or are you distracted by her charming smile?
big sky
By Anna | March 19, 2010 | 2 Comments
these are known as “scenic views”.
Foods & Boozes – Carly’s
By Anna | March 18, 2010 | No Comments
Since we don’t have enough features that we habitually neglect, I think I’ll try out another one. This one’s called Foods & Boozes, and that’s exactly what it’s about. I decided to start with Carly’s Bistro in Phoenix. So what follows is sort of a restaurant review/cool evaluation (because we like judging stuff and imposing our opinions on you, in case you haven’t noticed)
It was hot as balls when we finally stumbled into the hood, that we’d been looking for all day. Bike-weary and nearing exhaustion, we stopped in front of the little cafe and inspected the surroundings. Bikes locked up out front, a good sign. They sell beer, an even better sign. Our hunger got the best of our indecision, and we decided to risk it. I was immediately pleased by the paint, a very easy-on-the-eyes sort of blue paired with its complimentary orange, but tasteful and put me in the mind of sunsets. There was a decent photography show up on the walls (gallery= big plus). Though we were originally seeking a coffee house, Carly’s turned out to be more of a bistro, but as it was lunch time, and we were already here, we took a seat. Tom Waits was playing in the background, and with that comforting scrawl of a voice, we settled into the scene. To the left of the entrance is the bar, an unassuming plank of stained wood backed by that pleasant blue colored wall, the liquor bottles on home-made looking shelves. I picked up the drink menu, and noted that they stocked beers brewed by monks. Holy beer, another plus. Kervin ordered a Rueben, I ordered a smoked salmon sandwich. Mine was excellent, Kervin was non-committal about his. It came with a cold orzo pasta salad, and though the plating leads you to believe you’re getting ripped off, when you finish it’s the perfect amount of food. I didn’t order a beer, but noted that they had both PBR and Arnold Palmer on the beverage menu. Check and check.
In all, a nice spot for lunch, good food, inviting atmosphere. It’s about middle price range (my meal was 8.50), which is spendy for some, not at all for others (relative, like everything else) I’d like to go back for happy hour and scope the bar scene. 3.5 out of five.
halfway from here to nowhere
By Anna | March 17, 2010 | No Comments
the mesas like a massive fleet,
at anchor, still and sobering in
the fading twilight. row upon
row
crewed by ghost and dry dusky
spirits of red earth. trains
cutting through the waves of
desaturated grass and sage, their
earth-colored forms a dotted directional line
leading me from point a to point be
chasing the sun westward, hot sticky road
stretching out infinitely in front, black line on a map
red pins nowhere near here anymore.
there and back again
By Kervin | March 12, 2010 | No Comments
no album reviews, suggested viewing, rampant poetry or silly diatribes out of me for a while, no– i will be too busy living the adventures what will become the sprawling, semi-conscious-stream-of-consciousness literary bar-setter and otherwise masterpiece known as my memoirs. there will be no computers, only pocket-sized notebooks; no healthy decisions, only beer and pizza; no art, only life; no times but as they occur and for what they are. and i’ll have you know that by the time i decide to pack my things, the laptop’s the first one in.
i’ll see you when i get there, internet
letter for you
By Kervin | January 4, 2010 | 1 Comment
hello internet. how are you? i am fine. i just returned from a slightly-famed trip to tempe, arizona. the time spent was hard-earned and well-worth. after all the drama our collective endured, from tests of friendship to broken cars, powergrip failures and leg-over-to-concrete-chestsmacks, we returned with that sticky-sweet, too many cigarettes and far too much coffee peanut-butter taste behind our shit-eating grins.
crossing over the naughties into the tens in another city, another state, another frame of reference was nothing short of surreal. yes, there was glitter; glitter and glamour, expensive whiskey, cheap champagne– stinky handkerchiefs, sweaty feet, stale smoke– objectivism, romanticism, et. al; the day of, the night of, the mornings and evenings after new year’s were a swirling concoction of these abstractions, colors, sights and sounds.
the party eventually reached its peak with a static moment of calm. all present were on the same page, those who weren’t were no longer around, and we melted into and around the couches, little puddles of people trailing on the surrounding floor. so we asked each other what 2009 was and what 2010 will not be. i ask nothing more of myself than genuine interest in the naked experience, and to be appreciative of what is there. no, i am not talking about my penis. i then extended a firm apology to the parties i offended that night, which was well-received. no, i am not talking about my penis.
how about you, internet? let’s get together soon; ride some bikes.
