An ode to new turning to old.
Lately its been a mix of long nights and rainy days. I think I’ve been stuck in a rut creativity-wise, feeling uninspired by my new surroundings. I love Brooklyn and all the artsy, creative people (and pretend artsy creative people), but recently it has been feeling a little stark and cold to me. I think I’ve been living in a dreamy fog that I’m slowly starting to get the fuck up from and snap out of.
For as much time as I spend in Manhattan, I usually never get to see what the city truly is made of. So the other night I decided to throw myself in the midst of Prince Street‘s designer boutiques and just walk, observe, and really take a look at what I was surrounded by. Aside from the homeless people yelling paranoid words, the crazy woman fighting someone for a cab, and the normal city chaos, I saw the creativity that existed inside these tiny boutique storefronts that I never pay attention to on my mission to a bar, cafe, or class. For the first time in a long time, I realized how lucky I was to be living in New York, and just how many talented designers are based in my backyard.
Now for news on some other broad.
I have a great appreciation for other people making, loving, conceptualizing and creating awesome shit. I attended an art show at Mass Transit Skate Shop in Valley Stream, NY this weekend and saw some lovely Long Island Talent. Miss Jamie Schwartz’s vintage, handmade, jewelry collection- using turn of the century watch parts-“Through the Loupe” was featured…
and it’s kind of amazing.
My journey back into jewelry-making, artist-being, has proved to be an interesting one. I’ve almost passed out from the beautiful smell of records melting in my oven, blew a fuse in half of my house-which took all night to get back working, and continually got harassed by white trash vendors at the antique shows. I also came pretty close to drilling a hole in my hand. Melting vinyl, playing with drills and listening to Johnny Cash makes me wonder what kind of weirdo I’ve become.