POP CROSSOVER

I went to Lillian G.’s birthday party on Saturday. It was on her boat house in the Rockaways. I had a lot of fun. It’s such a special little boat—and it surprisingly holds a lot of people. I brought samosas and naan to the party, which were a big hit.

There was also a suicidal little dog who “fell” into the water. Right…

One of these days—soon—I’m going to do a blog post about Lillian’s boat because I really do like taking the train out there.

On the train on Saturday I looked down and saw this etched into the armrest:

I love stuff like that. I like thinking about Chito and Amy. I wonder if they’re still together or if they’ve broken up. And why did they break up?

Or is Chito actually lying about having a girlfriend named Amy? If so, shame on you, Chito!

Anyway, in other news, yesterday I bought tickets to go see Lil’ Kim perform in the Bronx next month.

I’m super excited. I’ve fallen hard for Kim. I find her very inspirational and very interesting. I listen to her albums all the damn time. Can’t wait to see her live finally…

xo
craig

OLD FOREVER

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: my strongest opinions are usually about things that don’t really matter in the end.

Often I find myself greatly disliking something only to do a 180 later on and completely embracing it.

One easy example: Lady Gaga. I really couldn’t stand her for a long time, then all of a sudden I began to like her and would listen to The Fame Monster everyday and even went to see her in concert last July.

This scares me a bit because I’m not sure what’s true anymore. I’m not sure if I actually love the things that I hate.

And with this logic in mind, it makes me wonder: do I in fact hate the things that I really love?

SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!

SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!
2.3.11

Give me back your love.

SPANISH LOVE AND ALCOHOL

New item for summer!

Hope you enjoy this.

Text reads:

"Me gustaría decirte que nunca te dejaré; y si te sientes triste, siempre puedo ofrecerte un trago para alegrar tu corazón. xo"

Like the other language t-shirt, this basically translate to: "I'll never leave you. And if you're sad, I can get you drunk."

SPANISH LOVE AND ALCOHOL

SPANISH LOVE AND ALCOHOL

SPANISH LOVE AND ALCOHOL

I've been wanting to do another language t-shirt because I really like the message.

It speaks to me, and it seems to speak to others, as well.

Why not say it in Spanish?

Cubist Literature on Etsy

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SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!

SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!

4.15.10

SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY! 4.15.10

Bad hair. 

Good dog.

As requested, J.

Enjoy.

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OSXMAS

I knew that I blogged too early today…

I forgot to add this to the other post:

"P.S.
Another good thing about the Bust Spring Fling was that there were a lot of attractive people. It was frustrating for my eyes—and my brain. Especially since I'm sorta dating someone as it is.

I just really like looking at attractive people.

And I hate it, too."

In other news, I brought back an old design of mine:

FRENCH LOVE AND L’ALCOOL

FRENCH LOVE AND L’ALCOOL

It reads:
"Moi, je veux te dire que je ne te quitterai jamais. Et puis, si tu es triste, je pourrais toujours te donner un peu d'alcool pour te rechauffer le coeur."

It's something my friend (and ex-neighbor) Émilie from back home wrote me once.

It basically means this:
That she'll never leave me. And if I'm sad, she can always get me drunk to warm my heart again.

There was some other stuff in the note she wrote me, but I forget what was in there.
(I think the rest said something about how booze is the next best thing if we can't do it with our bodies.)

(Wait, was that a come on?!)

I THINK she wrote me that when I flipped out a couple years ago and didn't leave my bed for three days. (I had stopped taking my antidepressants all of a sudden and ended up calling my mother at 2 or 3AM, bawling my eyes out for no good reason. That was the eve of not leaving my bed.)

Anyway, I think I'm gaining weight again.
I feel more cushion.

Damn Andrea G.
Damn pizza.
Damn beer.

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do you wanna meet my friends?

I'm planning on putting together a sort of zine that contains journal entries of mine. Actually, not really journal entries, but summaries of dreams I have each night.

I used to keep a journal of my dreams back in the day, but I think it would be neat to make a zine of my current ones. Written summaries of dreams next to collages I make or whatever.

Here's a dream I had the other night. (It's the first time Paris Hilton has made an appearance in one of my dreams.)
AND I QUOTE:

june 8 9, 2007

dinner party)–> for whom? i don't know, i forget
in a dimly lit restaurant.
paris hilton was there with her sister, whose name i forget. paris went by the name CURIOSITY LOVE, though.
but i kept calling her courtney.
she was very uninterested in everything.
(then why the fuck was she there, then?)
when the party was over, i was told that she and her sister would probably argue the entire way home because they never got along.

–the entire conversation time, i kept trying to make conversation with CURIOSITY LOVE.
i wanted to be her friend and to impress
her. i think i wanted her to give me money.

ribcageivyLITTLEHEARTS!

ribcageivyLITTLEHEARTS!

I got a million of them.

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SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!

SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!

Mmmk, I don't really know how to play drums. I'm just fuckin' around really.

SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY (4-5-07)

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TRUE LOVE!

I was googling my name (CUBIST LITERATURE) earlier, and that was pretty interesting. I found some nice things people have written about me on their blogs. I'm glad no one wrote anything shitty. Well, I'm glad I didn't FIND anything bad. =/

I'm gonna start screenprinting again soon. I sorta miss it. Not really.

Here's a design I could only do one of:

Truelove1

So, last night I sorta made a version that can easily be screenprinted:

TRUE LOVE

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P.S. FUCK SCHOOL

Every semester around midterms and finals everyone's always running around sighing, acting stressed out because of all the studying they have to do, all the work that needs to be done… However, I don't ever recall a time that I've run around acting like that. I sorta feel like I'm sitting crosslegged in the middle of Grand Central watching everyone do their thang. And excluding this semester, I've done very well.

So, what's the deal with everyone else?

I had planned to write more on this, but I'm already tired talking about it.

I'm so tired of school. It's so soulsucking.

Much like a job in retail.

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