I needed some art to accompany the Willy Northpole promo poster on my walls. Unfortunately I did not have a uterus I could wrecklessly abuse, so my artistic options were severely limited.
Somehow I was able to expand my mind out of the hackneyed fetus-killing spectrum, and I decided to roll with an project I started a year ago. Back in the good ol' days I lived in Buenos Aires as a blissful 21-year-old without a care or responsibility in the world. Each day I would wake up, and look out my window to the gorgeous urban backdrop de mi barrio de Palermo. All was right in the world.
I should note that my life now is not that much different. I'm a year older. My neighborhood's dominant language is Puerto Rican Spanish instead of Argentine Castellano. I have very few responsibilities. I have a nice room with a nice window. However, now I spend most days freaking out about what the hell I am doing in life and why I have the same shitty job I had when I was a senior in high school. I am going to defer all blame for my unhappiness not on my own mind, which I could change easily, but on the American rat-race lifestyle. ¡Qué quilombo!
Back to the art talk. So I had a grip of photos from my Palermo window, all like the one above, except time-lapsed over three months. I was going to put them all together and blow minds in the process.
I printed all the pictures using Winkflash, which cost me 99 cents because Winkflash is dope. I built a base for the pictures out of wooden bed slats my roommate found on the street. I put it all together over a week because I was lazy. 42 pictures (queer art symbolism: Jackie Robinson) affixed by 84 small nails (queer art symbolism: Tip Drill 84).
Done deal. Final product.
Only problem. It looked better sans pictures.
So I kept the pictures on for a week, until I could not stand the artistic disaster any more. Then it hit me. Fuck all that remembering-the-greatest-time-of-your-life-in-Buenos-Aires stuff, why not just put a funny picture of Greg Oden on the boards? And since I happened to have my Greg Oden 8x10 I bought at the NBA store for 99 cents, I threw it on there and everyone lived happily ever after.
While I am on the subject of home improvements (Jeezy ad-lib: Tim Taylor). I am going to post the work I did on my floor. My bedroom floor was messed up because the previous tenants were wastes of life who should have been part of Ms. Shvartz's art project (Jeezy ad-lib: aborted).
I wanted to support the local ma-and-pa store, but they did not have what I was looking for (Jeezy ad-lib: like that U2 song). So I decided to go Home Depot, which I actually prefer to a ma-and-pa store because I like thinking that my purchase puts money directly into Mike Vick's pockets (Jeezy ad-lib: Arthur Blank). And I really like Mike Vick. Plus my dad worked on Arthur Blank's house, so by shopping at Home Depot I am indirectly putting money in my own pa's pockets.
I ended up only using an ounce of the $30-gallon of finish the schmuck at Home Depot said I would need (Jeezy ad-lib: I'm gonna return that shit). Sorry Mr. Blank, my dad and Mike Vick.