My City.

This is home. This is what I reference when I speak of who I am. This is not edited, manipulated, corrected, fixed, cropped, color corrected, airbrushed, or touched up.

This is what I see every day. From coffee runs with friends and family, to journeys to work and other destinations.

This is the home I never had until now, yet I’ve lived here for 12 years.

You don’t know what you have till it’s gone, that’s foolish. I didn’t know what I had until I lost everything else.

This city is the only thing that has always been there. This city is Not New York, Philadelphia, Iowa, Chicago, DC or anywhere else. I’ve lost all those. But Home, still remains. More vibrant than ever.

I remember when I used to go all over the country pretending to be talented, I would miss her. So much. So much that when returning home, everytime, either on The Pike, or 93, There was a bend, a specific bend on the highway, where she would hit your eyesight. She would hit my eyes with joy, excitement, and delirium at the prospect of being back there.

Alas, everytime it was just a temporary condition between trips back out to perform, or trips to satiate past loves. I was never Home. Even in college, consistent moving from dorm to studio apartment, to someone’s couch. I was never Home.

My City. Hello.

I have spoken ,with some backlash from acquaintances, in a rather negative manner concerning other cities in the great country. And I respect the opinions that those people have expressed. I do. I wouldn’t expect to not get up in arms and defend your city. That ensures to me that you do have a pulse. And I like it.

But come spend time in My City. Some relax in the common, come explore the North End, Beacon Hill. Come see where the country was created, planned and revolution carried out.

Come see the Red Sox, and the 600th or so consecutive sell out at Fenway. Come See the Celtics and the renaissance of Basketball in the greatest Basketball City in the World. Come see the Patriots, the only example of a living Dynasty in sports.

Come walk the Fens.  Come walk the Esplanade, Stop by the Seven’s on Charles Street, where i learned how to drink, and where Lilly still knows my name, even tho I only make it there a couple of times a year now.

Come smoke with me in the public garden as we make way for ducklings, and swan boats.

Come shop with me on newbury street…well, window shopping, that is until we reach clarendon st.

I’ll show you the reflecting pool, the echo chamber, the science monitor.

On any given corner I’ll point out at least 4 different architectural movements.

Let’s have a Margarita at MJ’s, or a Tom Collins at Flash’s.

Let’s pahk the cah in Hahvahd Yahd, and have the best burgers ever at Bartley’s.

Or.

We can relax in my 130 year old victorian house. a few minutes away from Downtown.

This is My City and I am glad to be home, for the first time ever.

An Independent Body of Work.

So here it is. the day my paintings go on public view.

I snapped a shot in my dining room. enjoy.

They will be on display from 9/16 to 11/16, at Boston Common Coffee, 10 High St. Boston MA. check them out here

Hello Youth.

1982 – Costa Rica/2008 – Martha’s Vineyard

notice the wristband wizardry 25 years apart.

IFHNY

"I wanna be a part of it...NY NY"

So I came home from work last night and one of my wonderful new roommates was all flustered. “Why are you flustered?” I asked. She was flustered because she had to travel to New York. Plain and simple, she had to go there in order to fly to Costa Rica for the week. And the biggest worry she had was being in NY. Not a new third world country. NY.

Naturally Walker and I were discussing the events of the day during our late night semi-regular recap, and this subject came up.

Los – “Mel’s distraught about traveling to New York en route to Costa Rica, and I don’t blame her, NY sucks.”

Walker - “You don’t like New York?”

Los – “I fucking hate New York.”

Walker – “Why?”

and here is the bulk of the reason for the post.

Y IFHNY.

1. You smell like a combination of homeless pants, urine, rat/chinesefood, sewer malfunction and Jason Giambi’s hair (yes I know he was traded, but that hair is repulsive)

2. You sound like a mechanical automated souless machine stuck in reverse.

3. You are decaying. Your core is rotted and you have been sitting on your laurels (1920-1960) with no positive action since.

4. With the exception of the New York Giants and Peyton Jr.  You have done nothing in the realm of athletics for the last 10 years.

5. Rats.

6. Hipsters.

7. The amount of money it costs to visit…is retarded.

8. The Yankees.

9. You think you are the greatest city in the country, but fail to notice that in all the years that you have been asserting that, you have lost a grip on reality.

10. You killed Broadway.

11. You made Times Square look like a plastic surgery addict gone horribly wrong.

12. Your neighborhoods are so gentrified, and still blase and boring.

13. You are rude.

14. Pushy.

15. Your subway, while the biggest, baddest, most efficient, makes me feel like I’m either a. going to get arrested because someone is saying something about seeing something, or b. shot. (or c. both)

16. You are a soul sucker. People are raised to go there to follow their dreams, and then they are cornered in, and become just another lemming. You promise big and deliver small. Just like the2001-2009 Yankees/Mets/Jets/Knicks.

17. You also stole one of “her” from me.

18. Wall Street. That’s all, just Wall Street.

19. Bernie Madoff.

20. The Yankees.

That is the gist of what i said.

Walker agreed on a factual level, and god bless his soul, those things haven’t led him to hate NY.

Yet.

9 days.

this is it. 9 days left of any excuse to fuck around. 9 days left of the worst/best decade of my life. If  I had a strainer I would be left with about 100 awesome days from the last 3653 days.  Not the best ratio, but as the ever optimist, I’ll say there is room for improvement.

The best part of growing up is that it’s gonna happen whether you like it or not. For some it happens at a very young age, and for some, like myself, you put it off until the last moment possible.

I am ready. Go get it.