pinned back.

Above: the same picture I always take of Groningen. Below: Vera, right around the corner, and below that, Pinback on stage at Vera in what turned out to be a surprisingly awesome show.

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like ships.

Still experimenting with light. Don't worry, I'm only showing things here that have been discarded already. .

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prod ass.

Prod Ass (aka production assistant aka Mara) cooked her first dinner at the Grand last night: warm goat cheese salad with blueberries and candied pecans + a lovely carrot and coriander soup with creme fraiche, cilantro, and homemade croutons. Meanwhile, I just took a (dirt) nap downstairs.

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light reading.

In Groningen, playing with light.

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status.

Light at end of tunnel. Let's hope it's not the proverbial train. Off to Groningen for 10 days of hard work and a hopefully proportional amount of fun.

Above: my first (and probably last) frietje kapsalon. An unintegrated and kind of pointless mashup.

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korte pauze.

Oof, what's happening? Just coming up for air after living at the studio for a couple weeks (I just checked, actually it's only been one week, which is just crazy). Looking for pictures to illustrate what I've been up to, I realized that I need to be taking more of them. Here's what I've got: above, the Tele; below, post-run debrief; below, a very delicious lasagna with pesto and potatoes from the Milan airport, not something I would usually order, but all the Italians were ordering it, and they obviously knew what they were doing cause it was super.

parma & co. / osteria dei poeti.

The most important thing to know here is that there's a picture of strozzapretti with 'nduja below. And I ate all of it.

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darkroom.

Here's how we spent our Saturday night in Milan...and someone finally took some photos of us (ok, well of HBF) that seem to reflect something of the piece's spirit: these lovely shots are by Valentina Bianchi. I mean, yes, you can't quite tell that the iteration shooting herself in the face above (with booze, OK?) is a pregnant majorette, so you miss a layer or two, but the images themselves are buonissimi.

domenica.

After our show Saturday night, which found us drinking enormous beers and less-so glasses of grappa in the not-so-cool TV room of our hotel while a terrrrrrible-looking Samuel L. Jackson movie (dubbed into Italian of course) played nearly silently in front of us, we decided that we'd meet for lunch on Sunday in the heart of Milan. Since HBF had a master class to teach at 10:30am (snicker snicker), the deal was that Floriaan and I would research a good vegetarian-friendly place that was open on Sunday and she'd meet us there after her class.

 Frankly, Floriaan and I ended up delivering a master class of our own, a master class in how not to research your lunch destination. We showed up with a couple of addresses and hoped they'd be open. They were not open, in fact every street that didn't lead directly to the Duomo looked like this:

Clock ticking, we just followed our manly instincts and ended up at what must have been one of the best possible places near the Duomo, called Pizzeria Al 50-Da Geggio. The place was full of Italians, the waiters were friendly, the prices were reasonable, my pappardelle with a ragu of San Daniele prosciutto was perfect, and the finocchiona/parmesan plate beforehand was also super.

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airport.

I love Italy. I love Italians. I love Italian. I've re-realized all of this this weekend. I've also realized that one of the smartest things I've ever done was to not move to Italy.

If last week's bureaucratic runaround didn't convince me, my visit to the post office just did. 37 minutes to mail a postcard. There were 6 people in line. Nothing is easy at an Italian post office. When I finally got to the counter, the guy was all like "where's the stamp, I can't mail this without a stamp, etc". I'm like why the fuck do you think I've been standing in line for 37 minutes? I don't have a stamp. etc.

I'm totally not complaining. I'm hurrahing myself for not ruining another thing I love by becoming over-familiar with it, which is what moving to Italy as planned would've been. I've had a great time over the past few days, despite almost zero sleep.

mi piacerebbe un gelato.

Off to Milano tomorrow, hopefully. It's been a long long week of furious work and even more furious Italian bureaucracy...we'll know if we had any success with either this afternoon.

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masterburger.

Cellphone pic of a mini trio from Burgermeester, whose burgers have gotten really good, at least at the Plantage Kerklaan location. This is salmon/asparagus/creme fraiche/chives, Spanish lamb + chorizo + jalapenos, and beef/pancetta/truffled egg salad.

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de kat.

More photos by Jenny. Lunch at De Kat in de Wijngaert. Tosti with salami, chorizo, and cheese; uitsmijter with two eggs, mushrooms and ham (and cheese); tuna melt (with cheese). All properly cheesy, in the best way.

around the bend.

Photos by Jenny.

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Note to self: next time you don't feel like cooking, this is a smarter option than most. Terang Boelan's bami rames was interestingly spiced (we had beef rendang, chicken curry, and sayur lodeh), and their lemper was the best I've ever had. And there was a line out the door, making me think that the 22 items I didn't taste might also be good. Thinking about doing it again tonight.

albert cuyp and spui.

Maoz: still my favorite falafel in Amsterdam by a large margin. Scarves. Monkfish faces. Palm tattoo. Small fries at Vleminckx. Me Gorgeous! Photos mostly by Jen.

down in the south.

Our long-time friend Jenny-jen is in town for the weekend and so we're eating, drinking, and smoking like tourists. Yesterday was kind of a ramp-up day, you know, just easing into it. We went to Langedijk (because Brouwerij 't IJ was having a private party) for beer and frites; then we sat for a spell at the Magere Brug in the sun. Then home for salmon + chile salad and Jen-made fresh berry mascarpone tart with a speculoos crust. Nice.

Today: Maoz and mussels. And Albert Cuyp.

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die.

I think in order for ranting to really be done properly, one needs to be both appropriately inspired (the easy part), and then have the time to carefully hone one's pointy pointy thoughts into some kind of venomous perfection.

Today, I, sadly, only have the former, and what is it over, you may ask, if your English has been destroyed by living in Europe like mine has: it is over music stores.

Yes. I'll be sad if/when the last physical bookstore closes and we then buy all of our reading material online. And I'll seriously lament the shuttering of the last record shop or adventurous film/DVD seller (FUCK: since writing this, I learn that it has in fact already happened).

But music stores, the places where you go to interrupt bored, jaded employees from whatever it is they're doing besides knowing anything about their products or whether their mysterious products are even in their store at any given moment....these stores I will happily watch slide into the bog/sea of pre-Internet yesteryear or whatever.

How bad could they be? you might ask if you've never been to one. Forget for a moment the ever-present teenage guitarists stumbling their way through Stairway or Sabbath (still? still these same songs?). It's not just that you have to ask for someone's help once you're there (unlike a bookstore or record store). It's that 99.38% of the time, that person upon whom you depend in order to continue shopping is profoundly uninterested in helping you do anything except feel like an intruder. Actual conversation from this morning on my way out the door of Dijkman.:

2nd Employee I've Talked To So Far: can i help you with anything?
Me: yeah, I was looking for the Alesis Micron, but your colleague said you didn't have one.
2EITTSF: Oh, sure we do, it's in a box.
Me: Wow, great. I'm trying to compare it against that microKORG over there that I just listened to, I need to buy one of the two very soon.
2EITTSF: Ah, OK.

(silence and head nodding for a bit)

Me: So, is there any chance I can listen to the Micron?
2EITTSF: Yeah, well...it's still in the box.
Me: Yeah. Yeah. It's just that....I kind of need to play it before I buy it.
2EITTSF: Mmm.
Me: I mean, I could just buy it online...for less money, without leaving my house, while having an experience that is in every way less defeating than this one...I could do that, if only I didn't need to actually hear this piece of equipment before giving you 400 euros for it. Because it's a musical instrument. And that's the one reason your store still exists, because this is where I can come hear it.
2EITTSF: Mmm.

OK, that's a bit of an embellishment. What actually happened is that 2EITTSF said "Mmm, yes, hold on a minute please", and then went and answered a phone call and started looking for something for whoever was on the phone and forgot all about me.

Before the above conversation, I'd asked if I could see something else and:

Employee 1 said, "Ah, yes, sorry, we're sold out of that."
I say, "Ah, your web site said you have it in stock."
"Ah, yes, we don't."
Me, looking around for 3 seconds and spotting one on the shelf: "IT'S RIGHT FUCKING THERE, YOU LAZY FUCKING DOUCHE."

Actually what I said was,
"Ehhh.....isn't that one right there?"
He says: "Oh! Yes, you're right."
Me: "Could I possibly fucking look at it you lazy fucking douche? AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE killkillkillkilllkillkillkilllkilllkillkill..."
Him: "Mmm".

Actually what I said was...

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