Skip to main content


Before I left Seattle I thought that I should go by the Can Can and experience one of those amazing things about Seattle.

The show was called ‘I See London, I See France’ and I was hoping for an interesting story involving cabaret and London and France, but instead got pretty people in their underwear. No complaint.

Interesting tattoos as well. Makes me want to hurry up in finishing up my idea for my Seattle tattoo. In talking with Olivia she was telling me about her ex-fiance’s tattoo that she thought was stupid. A sea otter.. She described it as some clip art from a children’s book, but as she said it I kind of hid my face in my tea and muttered along reassurances.

I went to the Can Can with Caleb and Ian. Neither had been, which for Ian I found quite surprising. Caleb and I had a nice French dinner before hand as well from Le Pichet, but we seemed to run into the problem I think I’m going to face once I finally make it to France. The menu was, for the most part, comprised of meat. All local and none of the factory shit, but even still..

Since absinthe had become legal since the last time I went to the Can Can (and I had become legal as well) they had an entire menu dedicated to absinthe drinks that all three of us tried. All of the drinks were stiff, even though some didn’t really taste it, and very good.

After this Ian took me to the Can Can and though conversation and being intoxicated I accidentally lit some of my hair on fire.. it was already an irregular cut, but now it’s even a bit more irregular..
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Windy Coffee. [part 1]

Fulya was looking at my sketchbook the other day and remarked that she liked the random sketch that I had made of some girl that I saw walking along with a little plastic cup of coffee during the wind storm a few weeks past. As I still have some small pieces of very good watercolor paper [that I had sized to be used for some small frames I had collected but did not have anything to put in them yet], I thought that perhaps I could transfer a little sketch to a little piece of paper to play with techniques. Namely the layering of water colors. Something that I know I have been working on a lot, but practice makes perfect. I also wanted to see how using my new mechanical pencil filled with blue graphite would work in hiding my lines as I initially worked. I forgot to take a picture of the transition between not having the girl inked at all to inking her and starting the background. I was having a hell of a time trying to figure out a setting in which to put her. At first I was th
Post a Comment
Read more
French underworld tattoos at the turn of the century. The man sports a tattooed mustache intended to foil the prohibition of facial hair in the Foreign Legion. The World of Tattoo by Maarten Hesselt van Dinter. I can only dream of being anywhere near that combination of badass and crazy. Though at that point the Foreign Legion was probably still the best place for criminals to get their record cleaned so perhaps he is as well quite legitimately scary upon all of that. I find myself flipping back to this page time and time again to romanticize the French underground from around 1900. Give him an accordion, a beret, and some braces. Prostitutes who could easily kill you if you ever come up short and tattoo the names of their ‘actual’ lovers between their breasts, close to their heart. Tattoo ‘Je mother fucking t’aime’ in a tattoo cursive along my collar bones.
Post a Comment
Read more

The adventure continues.

So, I haven't written much lately.. but from the doldrums of the end of semester I then entered a time period of a flânerie across France. A last hurrah. Jessye came to visit again and the tiny room was packed up all into a few suitcases, the largest being named Bertha, and Rennes was left behind, although not before having a picnic in Thabor for the last Saturday market... We got the essentials. Madeleines (where as I reached the front of the line the vendor greeted me with a question of, '6 madelines?') with a few more of that vendor's delicious delights, like those bite size rolls with jams and caramel and chocolate.. Then of course the impossible cow cheese that acted like goat cheese and was rolled in Provencal  herbs. And of course a baguette from the amazing bakery covered in tiles. A trip to Thabor with Jessye was never complete without a stop at the aviary. And some people watching. A mohawked punk rocker walks a little girl hand in hand through the park.
Post a Comment
Read more