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Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
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I was on the other side of the drawing pad today. I was not scheduled to model and, so, on a lark, decided to test my sketching chops by sitting in to draw. I don't draw any more (used to as a child) and was only equipped with a spiral notebook and ink pens. (Not counting golf, I haven't used a pencil since the second grade...even for math classes I insisted on using ink.)
So there I was trying to draw this female model before us and not, I admit, doing a very good job of it. As a doodle it looks great because doodles are expected to be somewhat funny or quizzical and close-but-no-cigar. Since am no longer an artist I feel no shortcomings from my efforts this evening. The other artists in the group were spot-on. I loved watching them adapt the model's ten-minute pose onto their canvases with such realism. A couple of them even made the subject look better than she actually does.
I was on the other side of the drawing pad today. I was not scheduled to model and, so, on a lark, decided to test my sketching chops by sitting in to draw. I don't draw any more (used to as a child) and was only equipped with a spiral notebook and ink pens. (Not counting golf, I haven't used a pencil since the second grade...even for math classes I insisted on using ink.)
So there I was trying to draw this female model before us and not, I admit, doing a very good job of it. As a doodle it looks great because doodles are expected to be somewhat funny or quizzical and close-but-no-cigar. Since am no longer an artist I feel no shortcomings from my efforts this evening. The other artists in the group were spot-on. I loved watching them adapt the model's ten-minute pose onto their canvases with such realism. A couple of them even made the subject look better than she actually does.
When she disrobed I soon lost interest in even bothering to draw herI'd like to say I was distracted by the woman's nudity, which is the truth; but not in the flattering sense. When she disrobed I soon lost interest in even bothering to draw her. In fact, I turned to playing with my cell phone. My body is more refined and my poses are more evocative or engaging for the artist because I think like an artist although I am on the other immobile side of the medium; in short, I judged the female model through the eyes of another model and concluded thus: I am a more interesting subject than was she tonight. If it were possible I would rather draw me than her. Unfortunately I am a much better model than artist so a sketch of me by me would probably be untruthfully frightful. I admit: I am not a good artist. But, yes, she was not a great model either.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Flying With Fish clarifies the difference between Customs and Immigrations at the airports.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
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Got some things done but, on the whole, I regard it as a rather dull day.
Upon waking, some lines of rhyme came to me and my mind started to arrange them in cadence. A poem was stirring! Naturally, I swung out of bed and began writing them down (carpe diem!). Within twelve minutes my work was complete and I'd written a poem about President Obama. Not a bad start to the morning, I admit. After that I breakfasted with a bowl of cereal and coffee and went to the gym and trained for ninety minutes, and achieved a good pump. Then I returned home at one-fifteen and quickly supplemented with creatine before having a lunch of bacon and rice with a glass of milk. Not a bad midday, I admit.
A hot shower was sorely in order----exercise is nothing without good hygiene----and afterward since I was already wet I figured it was as good a time as any to mop the apartment and clean the kitchen. This worked me up a bit so, before dressing, I made a cup of tea and decided it was as good a time as any to write out a few postcards. With that done, I read a few Internet news articles and, then, finally dressed for the day.
So it was back up the hill to drop off my clothes. I decided it was as good a time as any to put the clothes away so that's what I did. Then at last I headed out for real. It was now five o'clock and I was in need of a drink. A stiff one. I stopped to look at some jeans but the dressing room was occupied and, at any rate, I was thirsty so I kept on trucking. With thirty minutes to go before the close of Happy Hour I made it to the Twisted Palms and ordered my usual poison----and exhaled. Began reading The Chronicles of Narnia----again----as I sipped the martini and couldn't help but eavesdrop 
on the indiscreet chatter of the ladies at the bar.
Apparently, one of them
had fond memories of her breasts being massaged by Jose or Juarez or one of those typical Mexican names. Not a bad afternoon, I admit.
I was almost restless for another workout but reigned in the anxiety and went straight home----discipline, discipline, discipline----and made dinner: dozen wing dings with fried onions, bolillo (a Mexian roll) and olive oil, and a XX lager and water. For dessert I had a coffee and resumed The Chronicles of Narnia. While I was cooking, the landlord's brother passed by and I paid the month's rent----and duly reminded him that I required my deposit back upon moving out. So that's out of the way.
Not a bad evening, I admit; But, still, a slow Thursday it was.
Got some things done but, on the whole, I regard it as a rather dull day.
Upon waking, some lines of rhyme came to me and my mind started to arrange them in cadence. A poem was stirring! Naturally, I swung out of bed and began writing them down (carpe diem!). Within twelve minutes my work was complete and I'd written a poem about President Obama. Not a bad start to the morning, I admit. After that I breakfasted with a bowl of cereal and coffee and went to the gym and trained for ninety minutes, and achieved a good pump. Then I returned home at one-fifteen and quickly supplemented with creatine before having a lunch of bacon and rice with a glass of milk. Not a bad midday, I admit.
A hot shower was sorely in order
In Mexico there are no self-service coin laundries... and hardly any such thing as customer serviceA task I'd meant to satisfy for the past three months was put off no longer. Took my leather shoulder bag to a local shop to have the shoulder strap mended (try saying that seven times fast) and was privately ashamed it required all of ten minutes and only $50pesos. From there I walked to the nearby lavanderia to collect my clothes. In Mexico there are no self-service coin laundries (and hardly any such thing as customer service). In the absence of a home washing machine one must drop off his things to be serviced. At $12pesos x kilo this load cost me seventy pesos. It was now four o'clock and can you believe the woman had no change on hand?...after being open since nine in the morning?! Mexico. (Her laundering and folding skills, though, are very much intact. Some folks can work in a business and some can operate a business but not everyone is cut out for multi-tasking, I know.)
So it was back up the hill to drop off my clothes. I decided it was as good a time as any to put the clothes away so that's what I did. Then at last I headed out for real. It was now five o'clock and I was in need of a drink. A stiff one. I stopped to look at some jeans but the dressing room was occupied and, at any rate, I was thirsty so I kept on trucking. With thirty minutes to go before the close of Happy Hour I made it to the Twisted Palms and ordered my usual poison
on the indiscreet chatter of the ladies at the bar. Apparently, one of them
had fond memories of her breasts being massaged by Jose or Juarez or one of those typical Mexican names. Not a bad afternoon, I admit.I was almost restless for another workout but reigned in the anxiety and went straight home
Not a bad evening, I admit; But, still, a slow Thursday it was.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
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After staying two nights at a friend's in Zapopan I went straight to the Black Sheep Lodge in Centro. Only I thought I was going to Casa Libertad. Noticed the change as soon as I couldn't make out the reception desk. The place looked like a posh bar/restaurant and, indeed, that's what the first floor is. Apparently it was out with the nice but un-original 'Casa Libertad' and in with hip, edgy British punk decor meets grandmum's knick-knackery. All over is painted in mostly black (duh!) and purple with swatches of kitsch wall stickers here and there. And it's been revamped the Black Sheep. Wicked.
The sleeping quarters are on the second floor and admissible to guests only. Dorm rooms (8 beds) cost $200pesos and include towel, toiletries, "American breakfast" and complimentary beer. Oh behave! The beds come with linen, blanket, thick, comfortable pillow and personal footlocker (padlock included). There is a separate boys and girls dorm plus a private suite. The rooms, like most of the old architecture on that side of town, have high ceilings and stained glass windows with wooden shutters. The lads' dorm even had an open fireplace.
Exactly one block away is the U.S. Consulate building.
I was very impressed with the facilities--free wi-fi, bar, cozy lounge, guest terrace for sunbathing and socializing--and customer service. Owners and staff were tremendously helpful and attentive. Apart from the hostel (lodge) the public pub side of things makes for convenient chilling...and is popular with locals so guests needn't go far for going out. The pub also has a menu of hot dishes. One thing I did find queer was the absence of Johnnie Walker Black Label. The famous whiskey logo is displayed throughout and painted on no less conspicuous a place than the entrance steps yet no bottle of the spirits was anywhere on display. Go figure.
If ever I have cause to stay overnight in GDL----perish the thought----I am definitely heading back to this spot. This is one cool ass hostel.
Av. Libertad 1872
Col. Americas
+52 33.3825.7079
contacto@theblacksheep.com.mx
The sleeping quarters are on the second floor and admissible to guests only. Dorm rooms (8 beds) cost $200pesos and include towel, toiletries, "American breakfast" and complimentary beer. Oh behave! The beds come with linen, blanket, thick, comfortable pillow and personal footlocker (padlock included). There is a separate boys and girls dorm plus a private suite. The rooms, like most of the old architecture on that side of town, have high ceilings and stained glass windows with wooden shutters. The lads' dorm even had an open fireplace.
Exactly one block away is the U.S. Consulate building.
I was very impressed with the facilities--free wi-fi, bar, cozy lounge, guest terrace for sunbathing and socializing--and customer service. Owners and staff were tremendously helpful and attentive. Apart from the hostel (lodge) the public pub side of things makes for convenient chilling...and is popular with locals so guests needn't go far for going out. The pub also has a menu of hot dishes. One thing I did find queer was the absence of Johnnie Walker Black Label. The famous whiskey logo is displayed throughout and painted on no less conspicuous a place than the entrance steps yet no bottle of the spirits was anywhere on display. Go figure.
If ever I have cause to stay overnight in GDL
Av. Libertad 1872
Col. Americas
+52 33.3825.7079
contacto@theblacksheep.com.mx
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I travelled to Guadalajara via Primera Plus bus but made the mistake of coming back on Vallarta Plus bus.
The bus that travels between Guadalajara and Vallarta is fine (the Tequila route uses older models) and, save for the ridiculous straight-to-DVD action movies shown, the trip was all right. The only available seat was next to a chubby fag who wore a sparkly leather wristband. I was not amused.
No bus pulled in or out of the terminal.
Coincidence, my ass. They sold tickets for a seven-ten departure knowing full well no line was going out until seven-forty, and knew to feed that bullshit line about heavy traffic knowing we can't call the bluff; but it is a beautiful coincidence that the bus rolls into the terminal at precisely the time indicated on the wall schedule and the web page. Fool me once....
I travelled to Guadalajara via Primera Plus bus but made the mistake of coming back on Vallarta Plus bus.
The bus that travels between Guadalajara and Vallarta is fine (the Tequila route uses older models) and, save for the ridiculous straight-to-DVD action movies shown, the trip was all right. The only available seat was next to a chubby fag who wore a sparkly leather wristband. I was not amused.
A mistake to use Vallarta Plus because they lied about the scheduleIt was a mistake to use Vallarta Plus because they lied about the schedule. I had just missed the 18.40 and according to the wall schedule the next bus wasn't due for another hour. Since I think Primera Plus is slightly better and it was rolling at the same time and both cost the same ($315pesos) I was ready to go over to Primera when the girl informed me a bus was leaving at 19.10. Oh? A twenty minute wait beats an hour so I bought the ticket.
No bus pulled in or out of the terminal.
With so many dead grandmothers per household it is no wonder they celebrate the Day of the DeadChunks of minutes passed. The always melodramatic telenovela blared on the omnipresent television. (God, the acting is horrible in this country). More chunks of minutes ticked away. The excuse of "mucho trafico" was offered by way of explaining the bus' tardiness. In Mexico it's always either traffic, a sick mother, or a dead grandmother. With so many dead grandmothers per household it is no wonder, then, they celebrate the Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos). When our bus driver finally arrived it was -- surprise, surprise -- 19.40. Exactly 19.40.
Coincidence, my ass. They sold tickets for a seven-ten departure knowing full well no line was going out until seven-forty, and knew to feed that bullshit line about heavy traffic knowing we can't call the bluff; but it is a beautiful coincidence that the bus rolls into the terminal at precisely the time indicated on the wall schedule and the web page. Fool me once....
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Spent a five-day weekend in Guadalajara (GDL) and returned on Vallarta Plus last night at midnight. I like GDL in the least but it was great to catch up with a few old friends, which is why I went at all. Hope they soaked it up because am not planning on returning anytime soon.
During my visit I was bothered by teeny-boppers to pose for snapshots, stayed at the newly opened Black Sheep Lodge, ate rose petal flavored ice cream and coconut pastries, had a steam and massage, bought a copper bracelet, imbibed many martinis at Chai, and, at long last, toured Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum of curiosities.
Most curious of all was that not much has changed: Same beggars----no, seriously, the very same vagabonds from eight years ago----are still schlepping and begging...and in the very same spots. Dios mio! I mean, get a positive mindset and go make a goddamn life already! The buses still lurch to a halt but zoom otherwise; skateboarders congregate in Parque Revolucion; clueless girls continue to be employed as cashiers, and (closeted) homos cruise the magazine stands in Sanborns. Of the changes I did notice the AM/PM gas station mini marts are now 7-11s and the city has an express bus service similar to Mexico City's. And there are far more Chinese buffets than necessary.
As shared on a previous post I am fond of coconut. In fact, I bought a baby coconut just this evening. Anywho, no panaderias in Vallarta make coconut muffins like the Danes bakery in GDL so I brought a couple back for tasty souvenirs! As for the rose petal ice cream, the confection is made from actual rose petals and, hot damn, tastes just like a silken flower; and it's pink, too. You can find the family run ice cream shop (nieveria) at the corner of Av. Alcalde and Manuel Acuna, one block from the federal immigration building.
Since patronizing the Twisted Palms I've developed a palate for martinis which led me to the two Chai restaurants in town to take advantage of the $29pesos martini specials. They were made with vodka, Oso Negro no doubt, but at twenty-nine pesitos I drank 'em down and dared not complain. Exxxcellent.
The Ripley museum was worth the admission. When I came to GDL years ago admission was $25pesos. Now it costs $50pesos. But am glad I went; stared at every artifact and read nearly every exhibit. But most of all am glad to be out of Guadalajara and back home.
Spent a five-day weekend in Guadalajara (GDL) and returned on Vallarta Plus last night at midnight. I like GDL in the least but it was great to catch up with a few old friends, which is why I went at all. Hope they soaked it up because am not planning on returning anytime soon.
During my visit I was bothered by teeny-boppers to pose for snapshots, stayed at the newly opened Black Sheep Lodge, ate rose petal flavored ice cream and coconut pastries, had a steam and massage, bought a copper bracelet, imbibed many martinis at Chai, and, at long last, toured Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum of curiosities.
Most curious of all was that not much has changed: Same beggars
As shared on a previous post I am fond of coconut. In fact, I bought a baby coconut just this evening. Anywho, no panaderias in Vallarta make coconut muffins like the Danes bakery in GDL so I brought a couple back for tasty souvenirs! As for the rose petal ice cream, the confection is made from actual rose petals and, hot damn, tastes just like a silken flower; and it's pink, too. You can find the family run ice cream shop (nieveria) at the corner of Av. Alcalde and Manuel Acuna, one block from the federal immigration building.
Since patronizing the Twisted Palms I've developed a palate for martinis which led me to the two Chai restaurants in town to take advantage of the $29pesos martini specials. They were made with vodka, Oso Negro no doubt, but at twenty-nine pesitos I drank 'em down and dared not complain. Exxxcellent.
The Ripley museum was worth the admission. When I came to GDL years ago admission was $25pesos. Now it costs $50pesos. But am glad I went; stared at every artifact and read nearly every exhibit. But most of all am glad to be out of Guadalajara and back home.
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