I am on my way to cover a shift at the co-op. Since I make reference to it in this blog semi-regularly I am going to take this opportunity to introduce you to it (although some of my readers are co-op members, so they already know.)
This little podcast does a great job of illustrating our humble cooperative endeavor. Check it out.
If you are in the NY area, you might like to stop by. Especially if you are in the market for a bike helmet, Klean Kanteen, organic spices sold in bulk, or fair trade organic bananas. Almost all our prices are tough to beat, but for those items I have never seen lower prices anywhere.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Colorful shapes
Do you ever catch a glimpse of yourself as something other than human, skin and bone, ideas, identity, whathaveyou? I do, and I think lots of people do–people who would never discuss it. I am aware of a lexicon for discussing such glimpses or states of being (however long they last) and yet I am shy to discuss it with most people.
Sometimes I admit to other people that I see myself as pure love. A little more frequently I hint about magick.
Today Meena made miso soup and in the midst of an otherwise straightforward conversation she said "It's not easy being a colorful shape." I thought that was pretty great.
Sleeping
I finally made my bed! Like most things I put off, it wasn't really that hard once I started doing it.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Rainy morning: the best
Love me some rainy morning. I have been sleeping on the couch for the past week (give or take) because I am too lazy to make my bed.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Good things have happened this week.
Let's revel in the splendor, shall we?
On Sunday my friend and accomplice Meena and I went to 3rd Ward for a bluegrass show. Now, bluegrass in a big Brooklyn factory art space is a tricky thing, but 3rd Ward did an admirable job as far as I could tell from our brief stay there. The key was placing the musicians outside, although it did pour down rain for fifteen minutes or so.
As an aside, I really like the outside area of 3rd Ward. It's sort of a closed in alley with multi-level fire escape stairwells that tower above you when you stand on the concrete slab floor.
I remember being out there for a breather in the middle of the night years ago, the first time I went to 3rd Ward. I had moved to Brooklyn a couple months before and went to meet my friend Ashley for a dance party there. This was before my bike made it out from Portland, and so just before dawn when I got tired of dancing I walked home. In retrospect, that choice seems fairly crazy because even years later the area is pretty desolate. It's smack in the middle of the trucking route for the industrial district of Williamsburg. I remember Ashley told me to be careful but also said I projected a "don't mess with me" vibe that seemed to be serving me well. He, on the other hand, was at the receiving end of all manner of non-violent Brooklyn crime: bike theft, van theft, vandalization of his stuff, etc–all in the few months he spent in town.
Anyhow, that night at 3rd Ward was special, and the outside area there is particularly charged. So it just felt good to listen to bluegrass out there with my friend. I suppose the visit planted a seed, because a few days later, after looking over the courses 3rd Ward will offer in the fall I decided to become a member and take a writing course there!
It deserves an exclamation because this decision is the kind of thing that I have thought of for years now (certainly all the years I've lived in NYC) as out of my reach. I have a hard time accepting joy. Maybe that seems odd because I have this blog that is a sort of call to indulge in peace and joy, but I also had that last blog, you know, which was all about how to have fun on practically no money. . . and this decision to join 3rd Ward and invest in myself as an artist required some money.
This sort of thing makes me think: oh, money's not so bad (as a concept). . .see there, Budis, how you were able to use money to explore your art. But if I take one giant step back, Mother-may-I style then it's clear: hold on, the only reason you didn't explore and invest as deeply in yourself as artist in the recent past is because you lacked the money.
Wow, I had intended to write about the whole week, but I only got a little bit out. Well, there's more where that came from.
xoxo,
K. Budis
On Sunday my friend and accomplice Meena and I went to 3rd Ward for a bluegrass show. Now, bluegrass in a big Brooklyn factory art space is a tricky thing, but 3rd Ward did an admirable job as far as I could tell from our brief stay there. The key was placing the musicians outside, although it did pour down rain for fifteen minutes or so.
As an aside, I really like the outside area of 3rd Ward. It's sort of a closed in alley with multi-level fire escape stairwells that tower above you when you stand on the concrete slab floor.
I remember being out there for a breather in the middle of the night years ago, the first time I went to 3rd Ward. I had moved to Brooklyn a couple months before and went to meet my friend Ashley for a dance party there. This was before my bike made it out from Portland, and so just before dawn when I got tired of dancing I walked home. In retrospect, that choice seems fairly crazy because even years later the area is pretty desolate. It's smack in the middle of the trucking route for the industrial district of Williamsburg. I remember Ashley told me to be careful but also said I projected a "don't mess with me" vibe that seemed to be serving me well. He, on the other hand, was at the receiving end of all manner of non-violent Brooklyn crime: bike theft, van theft, vandalization of his stuff, etc–all in the few months he spent in town.
Anyhow, that night at 3rd Ward was special, and the outside area there is particularly charged. So it just felt good to listen to bluegrass out there with my friend. I suppose the visit planted a seed, because a few days later, after looking over the courses 3rd Ward will offer in the fall I decided to become a member and take a writing course there!
It deserves an exclamation because this decision is the kind of thing that I have thought of for years now (certainly all the years I've lived in NYC) as out of my reach. I have a hard time accepting joy. Maybe that seems odd because I have this blog that is a sort of call to indulge in peace and joy, but I also had that last blog, you know, which was all about how to have fun on practically no money. . . and this decision to join 3rd Ward and invest in myself as an artist required some money.
This sort of thing makes me think: oh, money's not so bad (as a concept). . .see there, Budis, how you were able to use money to explore your art. But if I take one giant step back, Mother-may-I style then it's clear: hold on, the only reason you didn't explore and invest as deeply in yourself as artist in the recent past is because you lacked the money.
Wow, I had intended to write about the whole week, but I only got a little bit out. Well, there's more where that came from.
xoxo,
K. Budis
Monday, August 24, 2009
This one is too cute!
A friend from the co-op showed me this photo the other night when we were closing it up. As the title of the blogpost suggests, this image is from cuteoverload.com
Friday, August 21, 2009
Crooklyn, I love you.
This article is a little outdated. But check it out. I was reminded of it last night cuz I was at an event where some of these candidates were shaking hands and kissing babies.
For this article I did the investigating, and I co-wrote it. My Dad would have been so proud to see my name in print, cuz he was an aspiring journalist at one point. Here's to you, old Dad.
Last night I rode to watch a movie at Brooklyn Bridge Park. There is really nothing quite so spectacular as sitting in this particular piece of Brooklyn at dusk with all kinds of people: finally everyone is resting, not on the go, the lights of lower Manhattan light up, they reflect in the water, and it's just beautiful. The movie was Catch Me if You Can, which is about a lovable con artist. A state assemblyman who represents Brooklyn introduced the film and joked that he would be taking notes to help him politic back in Albany.
For some reason I found that open joking about political corruption endearing. It must have been the Manhattan skyline, all lit up like lollipops, intoxicating me. I am a sucker for that biznis.
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