Case and Point

Crowd Pleaser

Helen — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 03:22:06 +0000

This actually happened last summer just after my NorCal/Oregon road trip. I went down to my neighborhood coffee shop where they roast their own beans:

I wanna buy some coffee beans to give as gifts. Which one is, like, the general crowd pleaser?

The Guatemalan.

Ok, I’ll get three bags of the Guatemalan.

You know what else is a crowd pleaser?

What?

Your shirt.

Oh, yeeeaaahhhhh …

An Important PSA

Helen — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 11:05:38 +0000

I came across this on the Arts Wisconsin Facebook page.

Truth be told, my parents did their best. But, you know, kids will be kids and they’ll get themselves involved in all sorts of shenanigans. Had my parents been successful in shielding me from this, I would’ve spent my college years yearning for what could’ve been but I may have graduated much less traumatized.

And Again

Helen — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 06:43:19 +0000

Ok, so remember that incident with the underwear in the kitchen? Well, this morning, I grabbed socks on my way to the bathroom where they mysteriously disappeared. I went about my morning routine and then — forgive me — was about to sit down to take care of my morning business. Lo and behold:

A wet pair of well-folded socks

Oh, Helen.

The Pitfalls of Being Absent-Minded in a Live/Work Space

Helen — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 19:25:17 +0000

As I was heating up last night’s chili in the vacuum of blankness I often find myself in when performing such a task, I noticed a pair of undies (clean — this post is about being absent-minded, not gross) next to the stove. I remember grabbing them out of the underwear drawer on my way to the bathroom this morning. I also remember stepping out of the shower 15 minutes later, wondering what I’d done with them. I cannot remember coming into the kitchen between the bedroom and the bathroom.

I’m just relieved I found the underwear before my assistant gets here tomorrow morning. Uh, I better double-check to see if I remembered to put it away.

Two Words

Helen — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 21:25:17 +0000

Tilda. Swinton.

Enough said.

Heat Wave

Helen — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 16:53:25 +0000

By the end of September, I was totally over the Californian summer heat and ready for cooler weather. Selina told me it was starting to get autumnal in London and that I should definitely pack warm clothes for my trip. As I arrived at Heathrow Airport with my sweaters, an uncharacteristically warm Indian summer hit London. I started to complain about my plight but stink eyes from sun-deprived natives shut me up faster than you could say “SPF 30″. The weather widget on my laptop indicated LA was diving into the low 70s while Hyde Park was getting littered with half-naked people tanning, rowing boats, eating ice cream and generally going nuts over the 80°+ temperature.

By the time I got to Madrid, it was even hotter. I spent 5 days darting — literally darting — from shade to shade like some kind of night creature. The weather did start to cool off back in London as I got ready to return to LA where, of course, there was now a heat wave. My greatest desire was to get away from the heat and I ended up following its waves across several lands. Tee hee hee, says some cosmic jester somewhere.

Back in LA, I went straight to the Vortex that is my parents’, where they currently co-habitate with my younger sister, her husband, their 5-month-old baby and my baby brother. I call it the Vortex because, once I enter, it’s tough to get out. I morph into a 12-year-old boy: inhale all available junk food, watch videos and play games all night long, shuffle into the kitchen around noon, repeat. A bag of Sunchips, half a box of LU Petit Ecoliers, 2 Dove ice cream bars, 1 cheese-pizza-diet-Coke combo and an enchilada dinner later (i.e. 2.5 days), I somehow made my getaway.

Sunday at the Park

Live saxophonist performing a duet with saxophonist in a video at the Serpentine Gallery (Anri Sala)

The V&A

Primrose Hill

Southbank Centre

Pipilotti Rist at the Hayward Gallery

Ryan Reynolds is stuck

Left

Amazing

Crystal Palace Park

Helen — Mon, 17 Oct 2011 06:24:38 +0000

An idle afternoon with Mr. and Mrs. Stewart:

Breakfast of champions

In Catherine and Nick's backyard

The prehistoric megaloceros

Nick and Sir Joseph Paxton

Mr. and Mrs. Stewart

Table for One

Helen — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 22:41:06 +0000

Some stuff I ate and drank in Madrid. Along with actual meals, there were many cervezas, vinos and cafes and even more aguas con gas (sparkling water) in between, mainly because my feet were killing me and beverages are generally an acceptable payment for chair rental and bathroom usage.

Happiness on a half shell

Beer and Bible with a side of chips

Taco and iPhone with a shot of mescal

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day

Pizza roll-up

Madrid, in General

Helen — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 18:35:41 +0000

I did't have a map or internet connection when I first landed in Madrid. All I had was a hand-drawn route to a bus station with Domino's Pizza as a landmark. Street signs aren't so clear in Europe, I find, so imagine my private joy when I saw this!

Museo Nacional del Prado

CaixaForum

Cathedral de la Almudena | Palacio Real

La Latina

La Latina Neighborhood | Museo Reina Sofía

Museo Reina Sofía

Chandelier in the cafe at Casa Encendida

Mariachi band at Puerto del Sol

Plaza Mayor

(Puerta del) Sol Metro Station

Barrio de las Letras

Barrio de las Letras (those are flamenco shoe forms)

1€ gets you in to the 3-days of alternative designers and performances at Mercado Nomada

Mercado Nomada

Dusk on Calle de las Huertas

Some info on places mentioned here:
Mercado Nomada
La Casa Encendia
El Campo de Cebada

American Girls

Helen — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 05:51:01 +0000

I got on the Metro with the intention to go home from the opera house but I got off at a stop midway. My feet seem to be calibrated in such a way that I can’t turn corners or, horror of horrors, turn around. I walked a straight line away from the Metro station, and just walked and walked. I stopped at a random, nondescript restaurant, having already passed a few that looked good, mainly because I noticed three American girls sitting outside. (It’s the law in Madrid that you sit outside a restaurant or cafe. The only place you sit inside is McDonald’s.) It was only as I was settling in at a nearby table that I realized I decided on that particular restaurant because I wanted the comfort of familiar sounds for awhile. The girls left as I took my first bites of fried calamari. Sad.