where do the lost memories go?

the light cycle event was a total chaos last night. we met at 81st st west. it started raining as we got out of the subway.

As we entered the park we started hearing the sounds of the fireworks but we couldnt see anything because of the trees. imagine a crazy crowd , around 100 people running in every direction in the forest while its pouring heavily and there are sounds and reflections of explosions everywhere. I was about to trip out.

anyway we managed to find the Great Lawn where we caught a few minor blazes but nothing spectacular. i’m not sure if the event is postponed or if we missed the good part as we were running unconsciously. it sucked.

the event wasn’t postponed and we didn’t miss -a good part- . it really sucked. however i’d go again. look at this one from last year

 ex-new yorker friend ali demirel finished the video for Plastikman’s Disconnect. it was recently on Mtv europe. it’s dope.

see the video here

we saw this bizarre marketing campaign on the weekend. its a row of planes leaving marks of smoke to write a text of cloud in the sky. it read something like “Free Dimonds” followed by a 212 phone number. we agreed it was crap. you can’t see the sky in manhattan.
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the weekend was nice. saturday we started drinking wine early and flooded out to the streets of new york. passsed on a boat party and went to The Knitting Factory. an artsy fartsy event with some good installations.

There was a (approx. 20 feet long) cardboard tunnel with white walls and ultra-violet lights on the top. you could write on the walls with a torch and it stayed on until a crazy strong halogen lamp lighted up on top, giving a sunshine-like heat and light to everywhere, it erased the stuff written on the walls. we made metaphors of happiness and shine and darkness joyfully until we got bored and needed booze.

sunday started with a painful hang over.
and when i say painful, i mean something that you know nothing could help. it’s there in your body and it’s not going to go away by drinking gatorade or eating yogurt. sunday was painful.

we went out shopping and Anca found these ultra practical space saver storage bags at Century 21.
put your clothes in, zip the bag, then vacuum it through the valve. its too much As Seen on TV- like but i’m sure we’ll make use of it in our tini-mini apartment.

I love the bass line on this song.

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Grab your coat and get your hat, leave your worry at the doorstep
Just direct your feet to the sunny side of the street
Can’t you hear that pitter pat and that happy tune is your step
Life can be so sweet on the sunny side of the street
I used to walk in the shade with those blues on parade
But I’m not afraid ’cause this rover, crossed over

If I never had a cent I’ll be as rich as Rockfeller
Gold dust at my feet on the sunny side of the street

With those blues on parade
Because this rover, it crossed over

If I never had a cent I’ll be as loaded as old Rockfeller
With that gold dust ’round my feet
On the sunny side of the street
On the side, at that side of the street that is sunny

i like african drums. there is a street drummer named Bruce under 42nd street. he plays in,  what I call: ‘the sickness tunnel’ between 7th and 8th avenues from 6am to 9pm. with all that crowd it feels like they are marching to his beats.