This week will mark the start of a whirlwind trip to North America. Toronto, NYC, Vancouver, and finally to see my parents in Courtenay, BC. But THIS, has been stuck in my head for the past few days. Last time I was in New York was September 2007, it’s been a while. I hope it remembers me.
On top of that. I started watching HBO’s How to Make It In America last week (thanks, C!). The intro is just so damn catchy!
How To Make It In America Intro from Bert Stragier on Vimeo.
Remember this guy? He made science fun!
I kind of wish they had stuck with the voice of David Prowse… It’s pretty hilarious.
My favourite clip starts at about 50 seconds in.
Michael J Fox is one of the most adorable man alive.
Often times, after a long day of work, I wonder why I still do so much work by hand (about 70%). Just yesterday I sat for the entire day drawing the same things over and over again. Then I saw this, and remembered why. There’s a constant sense of urgency dealing with the digital world. Everything is expected to be done pronto and people seem to be lacking patience more and more (I’m not in anyway exempt). Our hands can do much more than just type and move a mouse around all day and it’s depressing to think that a majority of us in this profession are doing only just that on the daily. Anyway. Maybe I’m just getting old.
: )
People in the US buy more than half of a BILLION bottles of water every week. That’s just the US. Ouch.
I helped a local photographer with his contribution to the “Nike Stylist’s Own in Portrait“, it’s in this month’s issue of Style and Family Tunes! Check it.
I found a stack of things I wrote way back when. This is from July 19th, 2004.
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He, approaches her from behind, brushes his nose against the back of her neck, just enough for her to feel his presence. He knows how she likes that.
She, senses him from behind her, anticipates for the moment of touch. There is no other sound, only the sound of her breath. Her mouth is open slightly to let out a breah of air, to ease the feeling of butterflies in her stomach as she feels his skin against hers.
The sound of her breath and the raffles of the sheets.
Her hair is still damp from the shower, with strands fused to her skin. He loves the smell of her hair, the freshness; he can almost tastes it. He wants to hold on to her, tightly, but as soon as he reaches to put his arms around her she giggles, pulls away, and disappears into the mountain of sheets. He looks for her under the covers, but all he can see is a diffused warm glow of the morning sun.
She remains hidden from him, but only a arms reach away.
Her mouth slightly moves to what vaguely looks like a smile.