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A Toast to Roast and Shakespeare!

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Wednesday marked the birthday of my friend Christine, and to celebrate I offered to host a little dinner party for her. "I'll make whatever you want for dinner and dessert!" I said, confident that whatever she asked for I could manage even if I hadn't made it before. I even offered suggestions, like lasagna, chicken parmesan, Quebecois chicken.... Roast Beef with Yorkshire pudding! (I'd never made a roast beef before but it was a staple of Sunday dinners growing up and I thought it couldn't be terribly hard) So Christine chose roast beef, and I went to my mothers cook book to get the recipe... only it isn't in there! Well, alright, I'm sure I can find one online that will suit my purpose. And it was in this research that I discovered that roast beef takes time to cook. Like.... hours. Crap. Because Christines birthday was a Wednesday, and I work until 4:30, I told her to be there around 6. I need to find a way to cook a roast for an hour and a half t...
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Crossroads

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The second half of my life will be black to the white rind of the old and fading moon. The second half of my life will be water over the cracked floor of these desert years. I will land on my feet this time, knowing at least two languages and who my friends are. I will dress for the occasion, and my hair shall be whatever color I please. Everyone will go on celebrating the old birthday, counting the years as usual, but I will count myself new from this inception, this imprint of my own desire. The second half of my life will be swift, past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder, asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road. The second half of my life will be wide-eyed, fingers shifting through fine sands, arms loose at my sides, wandering feet. There will be new dreams every night, and the drapes will never be closed. I will toss my string of keys into a deep well and old letters into the grate. The second half of my life will be ice breaking up on the river...
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Whats Art?

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I’ve mentioned on this blog before the topic of street art, and how my opinion of it differs from that of my Dads. Dad believes that any graffiti is bad, because its breaking the law, and how it makes a neighborhood look. I maintain that not all street art is bad, and that even in the case where it is breaking the law it Is still art. I’m not saying that its right, but its still art. And in some cases it can be beautiful, or inspiring. Most of the time it makes me think about what I’m looking at. And today I found out that in the states a museum is hosting the first ever exhibit of street art. “Today, we witnessed history being made. As the very first major U.S. museum exhibition of graffiti and street art, MOCA presented the media preview of Art in the Streets , an epic visual feast you must experience for yourself! Tracing the development of graffiti and street art from the '70s to where it is today, MOCA pulled out all the stops - educating us on the rich history, entertainin...
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