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Exclusive Art Parties
Jan. 22nd, 2006 03:23 amI hung out with my former co-worker Anna, her partner and her child today. I love her, she is one cool girl although having kids is hard work and I'm glad it's probably not part of my agenda.
Onwards I ditched Anna to go to another Art Party (2) at Loose Canon where I saw Rose and various other hipster nerds. There was some neat pieces including silk screened shirts and participatory canvases. Some noise band aping Black Dice with loads of electronics in old suit cases was playing in the basement... the one beardy boy in said noise band is my imaginary boyfriend. He also works at my favourite local indie record store.
We briefly went to a club, had a single drink and decided that 80s Hair Metal Irony Night for 18-Year-Olds was something we all did years ago. You can only throw around your imaginary mane of permed golden locks so many times before you get totally bored and remember that Guns N' Roses actually totally suck.
That's when we ended up at the official after gallery party. At some sort of old industrial building squat it was like a scene out of a movie about Detroit or something. Complete with some amazing beat boxing guy showing up and rocking the ad-hoc ensemble and drum circle. I played in yet another drum circle and painted "SAVE YOUR CITY" in dripping orange Tremclad and gobs of gooey blue latex.
The whole affair was a bit surreal. I forgot my camera of course.
Onwards I ditched Anna to go to another Art Party (2) at Loose Canon where I saw Rose and various other hipster nerds. There was some neat pieces including silk screened shirts and participatory canvases. Some noise band aping Black Dice with loads of electronics in old suit cases was playing in the basement... the one beardy boy in said noise band is my imaginary boyfriend. He also works at my favourite local indie record store.
We briefly went to a club, had a single drink and decided that 80s Hair Metal Irony Night for 18-Year-Olds was something we all did years ago. You can only throw around your imaginary mane of permed golden locks so many times before you get totally bored and remember that Guns N' Roses actually totally suck.
That's when we ended up at the official after gallery party. At some sort of old industrial building squat it was like a scene out of a movie about Detroit or something. Complete with some amazing beat boxing guy showing up and rocking the ad-hoc ensemble and drum circle. I played in yet another drum circle and painted "SAVE YOUR CITY" in dripping orange Tremclad and gobs of gooey blue latex.
The whole affair was a bit surreal. I forgot my camera of course.
