darkflavor

I rarely get out of the house. Here I am sitting in Starbucks (which are the only cafe’s around) breathing in cold air that blows down from the air condition above, listening to the deafening sound of the expresso machine, and feeling sick of work. The only time I stop working is when I leave my apartment, bath or become intoxicated. Can’t work while wet, silly, or away from the main computer. So, here I sit at Starbucks.
Tara and I made some new friends. Last week they took us out to “First Friday” which is when art galleries stay open till midnight in the shitty art district on the first Friday of every month. I thought what was the art district was where all the homeless hung out. However, that neighborhood becomes alive on First Friday. Several city blocks are closed to traffic to all the influx of visitor space. Bands play very loud music on the streets, some guys were carving ice sculptures to techno, there were fire dancers, strange people in costumes, artists showing their work. beer, food and wine are sold on the street. I had a good time and I even had a conversation with the mayor who stated that he loves First Friday. I also had a conversation with an artist named Feather who uses his semen as paint in his black-light paintings. Tara became inspired to get her work shown in a gallery for an upcoming First Friday. It was a surreal night.
Then we went to a bar or club called Ice House and I caused trouble like I usually do in social situations.
the two people we were with are getting married tomorrow. Looks like I will be getting out out the house again.

I added the photos from the Tilman Wedding that took place here in Vegas. Tilman is an old friend of mine that lives in North Carolina.