Thursday, October 30, 2008
Lola's works are a gathering of memories of past moments and sentiments caught sweetly on her carefully-tended panels. The allure of these paintings are partly due to their blissful eloquence, and partly to their indelible charm. However one chooses to enjoy them, the mysterious and elegant stroke is evident in each and every presentation of Lola's growing talent.
The self-taught artist is exhibited in prestigious galleries and renowned collections worldwide. She spends her time in and around Los Angeles painting and loving her two little girls.
unele dintre cele mai simpatice artiste & her little pieces of art // more to come
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
25 Octombrie @ MUZEUL TARANULUI ROMAN
Back to Black Anniversary edition !
Loc: Muzeul (Clubul) Ţăranului Român
Program: 14.00- 20.00
Invitat de onoare: Yvan The Face Hunter (www.facehunter.blogspot.com)
After fair party: Ramayana Café (Str. Baldovin Pârcălabul, nr.11 – langa ministerul Transporturilor)
Intrare: 10 lei
Primul şi cel mai important târg de vintage and self-made fashion aniversează un an de existenţă. De la prima ediţie din 28 octombrie 2007 şi pana acum, MGB a dat naştere unui adevărat fenomen de fashion în Bucureşti şi in tara. Cu fiecare ediţie, numărul de participanţi şi invitaţi a crescut, unul dintre cele mai importante rezultate fiind promovarea şi lansarea de tineri designeri, care în prezent se bucură de un real succes.
Ediţia aniversară îşi propune să sărbătorească un an de reuşite şi să dea tonul pentru ediţiile ce urmează: o abordare matură a fenomenului ce s-a conturat în mare măsură datorită MGB.
Asumându-ne această responsabilitate, ediţia Black to Black MGB va aduce în prin plan designeri în adevăratul sens al cuvântului şi profesionişti cu istorie în acest domeniu. Astfel, numărul de participanţi va fi de 25, punand accent mai mult pe calitate decat pe cantitate.
Coloana sonoră va fi asigurată de către Dj. Vasile, legendarul DJ al Romaniei.
Ţinuta obligatorie va fi, aşa cum spune şi numele ediţiei, Black - culoare primordială în fashion datorită eleganţei şi calităţii sale unice de a putea fi mereu re-inventată. În plus, negru se potriveşte cel mai bine cu culoarea covorului roşu pe care vor fi întâmpinaţi invitaţii. Surprizele se vor ţine în lanţ, însă toate vor avea ca finalitate crearea unui eveniment în care invitaţii să se simtă în centrul atenţei, ca veritabile vedete. În acest sens, invitatul de onoare al ediţie va fi Yvan The Face Hunter din Londra, unul dintre cei mai cunoscuti fotografi şi colecţionari de streetstyle din lume. După ce a făcut ocolul celor mai importante capitale mondiale ale modei, Yvan îşi îndreaptă obiectivul către Bucureşti, respectiv asupra Black to Black va fi prima ediţie cu program adecvat de weekend: 14.00- 20.00 şi cu after fair party ce va avea loc la Ramayana Café (www.ramayana.ro), unde surprizele vor continua. Alte noutăţi prezente la această ediţie a târgului sunt chiar flyere-ele ce anunţă evenimentul , realizate prin tehnica lenticulară (imagini cu efecte tridimensionale) – ele în sine o inovaţie în domeniul promovării, precum şi pungile personalizate MGB, care permit invitaţiilor să facă cumpărături cu stil.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
- Leave the copy machine set to reduce 200%, extra dark, 17 inch paper, 99 copies.
- In the memo field of all your checks, write "for sexual favors."
- Specify that your drive-through order is "TO-GO."
- If you have a glass eye, tap on it occasionally with your pen while talking to others.
- Stomp on little plastic ketchup packets.
- Insist on keeping your car windshield wipers running in all weather conditions "to keep them tuned up."
- Reply to everything someone says with "that's what you think."
- Practice making fax and modem noises.
- Highlight irrelevant information in scientific papers and "cc" them to your boss.
- Make beeping noises when a large person backs up.
- Finish all your sentences with the words "in accordance with prophesy."
- Signal that a conversation is over by clamping your hands over your ears and grimacing.
- Disassemble your pen and "accidentally" flip the ink cartridge across the room.
- Holler random numbers while someone is counting.
- Adjust the tint on your TV so that all the people are green, and insist to others that you "like it that way."
- Staple pages in the middle of the page.
- Publicly investigate just how slowly you can make a croaking noise.
- Honk and wave to strangers.
- Decline to be seated at a restaurant, and simply eat their complimentary mints at the cash register.
- TYPE IN UPPERCASE.
- type only in lowercase.
- dont use any punctuation either
- Buy a large quantity of orange traffic cones and reroute whole streets.
- Repeat the following conversation a dozen times.
"DO YOU HEAR THAT?"
"Never mind, it's gone now."
- As much as possible, skip rather than walk.
- Try playing the William Tell Overture by tapping on the bottom of your chin. When nearly done, announce "No, wait, I messed it up," and repeat.
- Ask people what gender they are.
- While making presentations, occasionally bob your head like a parakeet.
- Sit in your front yard pointing a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down.
- Sing along at the opera.
- Go to a poetry recital and ask why each poem doesn't rhyme.
- Ask your co-workers mysterious questions and then scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about "psychological profiles."
Sunday, October 5, 2008
I gave him my satchel and shoes as he asked me, then I shed my clothes as he advised me to do. "Wear this," he said, and he shed his own skin. It fell off in a pile on the soil floor looking like a tablecloth used in my home. When I clothed myself in his skin I no longer smelled like my home or the valley. Instead I became like the men on the mountain. I smelled distinctly foreign. I thanked the man and watched as he dressed himself in my own clothes. He said he would wear them until new skin grew on his back.
Holding my father's blade I cut what kept me from moving. I did not care to look whether it was a serpent's tongue or the branch of a tree.
The silver fish leapt from the water from his gurgling mouth came a bubble that solidified and dropped into my lap. Just as quickly as he had emerged, the fish plopped back into the water, leaving me to puzzle over this mysterious orb.
When the people of the soil touched my feet they fell back into the ground with shrieks and cries. Now I could reach the top of the mountain without fear of falling down.
A foreigner stopped me on my rise toward the mountaintop. He had one eye and loose skin that folded around his body like paper cloth. Laid before him was a set of colored tablets and sticks. "Stay for a game," he said to me. "After you win your game with me I'll let you go on your way."
Through the blind frenzy of earth and shadows I plunged my dagger into the creature's heart and watched as it melted into rain.
I pressed onwards to a safe haven where my father would be in good hands.
I watched as my magic needle pricked a hole in the tree trunk large enough for me to hide in. Without knowing where I had gone my pursuer stopped in its search disappeared, leaving behind an abundance of pears for me to take.
When I returned home Mother was not there. Instead, there was a man leaning against our door, sipping guava juice through a straw. He told me the lady of the house had left to search for her son, and that he had taken residence. I looked down on him and winced. His feet stank of manure.
"As a child, my son could dance along the soil so quickly that the men who died and live in the ground could not catch him. Prove this to me now,"
Without hesitance I lifted my pant legs began to dance in father's leather bottomed shoes. The soles breezed across the floor, cutting the mist with rhythmic motions. I then turned the ring on my finger and watched my father rise, soil shedding from his skin. His shaved face and clean hands stood against the paling crowd. This impressed the people who stood before me, as did the fact that my tongue did not bleed from the needle it held.
Everyone then stared through the guise of the false man beside me. The person, who acted as a substitute for my accomplishments, began to bite his nails in a rampant manner.
As the soil on me continued to turn into gold, the ground of our garden sprouted trees, fruits, and vegetables. My family and I stared in a daze as we watched our land grow rich and the people of the soil draw away.