bike bike bike

This video is just hilarious.
Not only does it hit on a somewhat personal level, but the entire inner-city bike culture.
Although this video seems to be geared (no pun) towards downtown bike messengers, anyone who's ridden on a bike at least once on a busy street can relate. Seeing as I ride my bike for usually an hour a day, I can humorously sympathize with the points made.

"commanding presence"

This post concerns itself with one building: the Aura Condominium currently being built in College Park, downtown Toronto. This building boasts itself for being the largest residential condominium in the country. Seeing as I lived in that neighborhood for three consecutive years, with some affection I might add, I feel somewhat responsible for voicing some concerns about this massive undertaking.

First, I will list my credentials. I lived in The Liberties, Tower III for three years. I know every inside and out to that neighborhood; from the secret passages underneath the Delta Chelsea, to the rooftop access to the LuCliffe building, many of the local business owners and government workers by name, the wind speeds of Bay street, the angle the sun passes during the winter months, the ridiculous service charge at the ATM machine in the convenience store, the timing of the advanced green lights on Gerard street, and that weird little shack covered in pigeon shit that houses a zamboni. I know it all. I have an affinity for College Park in general, and although the two parking lots that once occupied the corner of Yonge and Gerard may not have been the best use of space, building a 75 storey tower certainly isn't any better.

When discussing the problems with the Aura tower, it is important to mention where and what surrounds the building.

Yonge Street, located just immediately East of the building is notorious, among many things, for being the longest street in the world. Littered along this street in this neighbouhood is a surplus of adult movie stores, chinese restaurants, low-end retail outfits and strip clubs for several blocks until you hit the tourist-eyesore that is Dundas Square. At the corner of Gerard, Yonge is four lanes wide, consistently halved by turning cars in either lane and congested by massive amounts of commuters and tourists.

Gerard Street, located just South, is the site of the main entrance/exit to the Aura tower. Conversely to Yonge, Gerard is only two lanes wide with sidewalks on either side (one belonging mainly to the Delta Chelsea's main street entrance, which also includes an airport shuttle that arrives every 30 minutes). Aside from condominiums, Gerard is currently occupied by cabs, drivers frustrated with one-way streets, and emergency vehicles.


My main concern is the utter congestion of College Park. The building is barely completed and the majority of the 75-story tower has been sold (which is standard for building practices). If you consider that the building will be almost completely filled by the time of completion, we're looking at at least two thousand people, if not more, additional occupants to the area. Although the building praises itself for being connected to the PATH system (you still have to take a $3 subway one stop to get there), it is only presumable that at least half of the towers occupants will have vehicles.
After seeing the day-to-day construction of Aura's parking facilities, which can be seen here, it is obvious that the parking accommodations are completely massive, appearing to exceed 7 storey's below ground.

Remember when I mention the two lane's of Gerard street? Now throw the extra cars into the equation.

Today, turning on to Gerard is an annoyance in itself. Confused travellers heading into the Delta are slow, cabs consistently pull over sporatically, people J-walk, and there are emergency vehicles constantly (Toronto General's ER is one block away). Did I forget to mention there are also two bike lanes? The utter mess that I can only forsee will be chatostrophic. The morning and evening rushes will be straight hell and will only create more problems for the emergency vehicles. The corner of Yonge and Gerard will be permanently jammed from all the "don't-give-a-shit-I'm-walking-here" locals. Bay street will be one permanent horn sound, and University will no doubt be congested by the turning South cars heading towards the QEW.

That's just cars.

Bringing those thousands of people back into the equation, let's talk about College Park the building. For those of us who've experienced the 180,000 square foot shopping centre more than once, it's easy to classify the centre as feverish. Seeing as the building houses a 24-hour Metro grocery store, as well as College subway station, the foot traffic alone is enough to peeve any pedestrian. Adding thousands to that equation brings Advil commercials to mind. For starters, the Metro is already insane. I honestly believe that not only will the store itself not be able to contain the demand of the customers, but will not be able to supply the amount of produce needed to feed that many urbanites. Shit, they already run out of red peppers as it is. The only real times to get any quality, uninterrupted shopping done is between the hours of 12a.m.-5a.m., and even then the place is not empty.
Upstairs, the Winners will flood and the Tim Hortons line will extend only further out the door, at all hours of the day. The College subway station will bottleneck, as it is one of the smallest stations situated in the downtown core, and one of the most utilized.

Although the building, once completed, will be an urban architectural marvel, I believe the ripple effect it will have on that neighborhood will be more detrimental than the planners originally foresaw in terms of transportation, supply and demand, and functionality. I didn't need to write this article, because the fact of the matter is I'll probably never live in that area again. But given my realtionship with the neighborhoud, as well as my close friends that still live and work there that will have their lifestyles ultimately altered (as well as their view), I felt it necessary to voice my detest for the entire project, which I have from day one.

For more information, you can visit the Aura website.

i didn't think we had it in us

What started as an innocent trip to the grocery store turned into one of the most violent and radical days to hit my life thus far.

Clearly, I am talking about the recent G20 summit that hit Toronto this past weekend. To not write this on paper would be a devastation to myself. Tess and I were curious to investigate some of the protests we'd heard might be happening downtown Saturday afternoon, so we used our trip to Metro as added incentive to head towards Yonge Street.

After about 20 minutes of produce shopping, security came over the loud speaker to inform us that the building will be locked due to external security threats. I brushed this off as some power-tripping paranoid tactic used to keep everyone under lock and key from something that was hardly considered a threat. This was a very dangerous assumption. Everyone in Metro was asked to move to the back of the store, where we patiently waited in the seafood isle for nearly 30 minutes. Luckily, a man was there that had an iPhone that could stream CP24, which came in handy when discovering that the entire exterior of the building which we were in the basement of was smashed to shit.After waiting another long stint, we were released, and the shit had already hit the fan. I mean that somewhat literally, in the case of American Apparel.


The windows of over 40 established businesses had been destroyed on Yonge street alone. The Time Hortons and Starbucks at the corner of Yonge and College had taken the worst two beatings I'd seen. Car-sized holes had been smashed through the glass windows. Chairs were thrown amongst the street. Displays were carefully "rearranged". Businesses were looted. It was fucking chaos.

We walked everywhere. Once we made it to Bay St. and Adelaide we noticed a heard of people running down the narrow streets only to be followed by a battalion (how often do I get to use that word, really) of riot police and a vehicle that I can only artfully describe as a tank; a tank that stopped for no man or woman. Police created perimeters around the peaceful protests and refused advancements towards city hall, where Jazz Fest had been poorly scheduled (would you like broken glass and flames with your Oscar Peterson covers in the key of C#?).

Finally, we concluded our day with a little organized chaos, ending up in Queens Park. After sneaking our way around the hundreds of officers clad in riot gear and shields, we were on the front lines. For those of you who haven't witnessed any of the Queens Park events in the media, let me describe it as such.

1. People get mad. People start yelling.
2. Riot police in groups of 30 or more forcefully charge aforementioned People.
3. People run for their lives, scared shitless by large men with shields and bats.
4. People stop running. Start yelling again.
5. Riot police release additional riot tactics, including mounted officers, tear gas, paint balls, and rubber bullets. Police reestablish and expand riot line another 100 yards forward, moving North.
6. People run. Some get gassed, some get trampled, some get arrested and beaten.
7. Six guys yell "Pussies!!"

Hey! Who are those handsome dudes seen at 0:25 in that clip? No less than A-Laye and some shawty gettin his grocery list on. (Huge bigs to DP for finding this clip. A true internet G)

And this goes on for about 3 hours. I was one of the people. Thankfully, I was not one of the trampled or gassed, but the danger was very real. I can hopefully say I'll never experience something that forceful for the rest of my life, but I was there willingly, so I couldn't complain if I did.

To talk about the rest of the actions seen throughout Saturday and Sunday would be irrelevant, because you can't even take a shit in your own home without hearing about the ridiculous actions that took place during the Summit.

I must admit that the violence and irreverence that took place throughout the city was absolutely inexplicable and inexcusable. The members of the Black Bloc, as well as the other "anarchist" zeroes that decided to smash stores acted like a bunch of cowards that obviously weren't concerned with the changing of political policies or overthrowing of governments and corporations. They were there for the single purpose of smashing shit under the guise of civilians.



Let me tell you something. Broken glass does not change jack shit. You think a few broken windows are going to change anything? You can throw bricks all day and night and it won't change dick about these corporations you're inflicting violence upon. You think Bell is going to lose sleep over having to call a repair man in the morning to fix a fucking window?
This type of shit is completely amateur and speaks nothing of the words "revolution" or "overthrow". Even as I sit in my chair now, so angered that I can't even get my hands to move fast enough to type, these shitheads are back home getting their moms to wash their black ski masks, lighting a joint, and listening to Rage Against the Machine. You threw a chair. Whoopdy fucking woo.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for the majority of the peaceful protests that took place throughout the summit, but smashing up a few retail outlets simply makes no sense and will change nothing except the status of your boner.

that's callled tweeting

ALRIGHTMEANDBLAIRAREGETTINGDRUNKONOLDEEANDGOING
SWIMMINGWEALSOHOOKEDUPWITHGIRLSINNYC

above video: Battery Park, NY.

get up offa that thang

As expected, my annual phone troubles came right on time, almost an exact year from my last incident. However, this time I did not crush my phone to death playing the drums. I simply dropped it in a glass of water before bed. Sweet. The funny thing was, a friend called me while it was still sitting in the bottom and worked fine.
For now it still works, I just can't use any of the buttons. I've decided to let it sit and dry for a couple days.

Anyone have any tips for this scenario?

.....it's shit like this that I'd use a Twitter account for.

if you were a latino, I'd be fucked

There they are: the two official handsome chauffeurs of the Hue 2009 East Coast Tour.

I don't believe I've ever mentioned such things on this blog, but my band is touring the East coast of Canada starting next week (June 24th to July 25th to be exact). To be totally honest, I'm equally excited and uneasy. It's definitely not the most legit tour ever compiled. On top of slightly shotty tour dates, we're camping. How you like me now? It's going to get really, really greasy. But hey! That stuff is right up my alley.

I've been very fortunate to have seen the many corners of this country at such a young age. It's been some time since I've visited the East, which is nice because I have an altered appreciation for pretty much everything since last visiting when I was 13. Wow, a decade ago? Where does the time go. I still know the feeling of being nearly blown off my feet by the wind, atop a hill in St. Johns. I still remember the smell of the ocean, and I definitely still remember the smell of my No. 5 Dippity Doo hair gel I used at the time. That shit could impale.

Speaking of greasy travelling, Dan and I are no strangers to it. Him and I have traveled half-way around the world together and done some of the most despicable things you can think of, all in the name of survival. Sleeping in parks, eating out of the garbage, shitting in the outback, stealing hundreds worth of drinks, using other peoples towels (fuck), trying to catch food, chasing kangaroos - although I wouldn't call that survival, I just really wanted to box that mo-fo. He took it like a bitch.

Needless to say, we know what we're doing in the wild. We became men at a very young age. Some of that shit I can't even tell you about. Either way, for the tour I'm going to re-open the Spreken Ze Talk blog, just to extend my travel stories this summer.

And it's not even over yet!

The first week of August marks my fourth annual "Men With Clubs" tour. It's basically me and a bunch of retired teachers/principals golfing Northern Michigan for four days. It's really just beer, golf, dudes, and jokes. I love it.

I'll post again before we leave. Show tonight at the London Music Club (big hall), then tomorrow at Mitzi's Sister around 9, then Friday at Pogue Mahones in Sarnia. I have to put up some paintings at Vdara before then.

My life is a circus.

makes sense

I had the day off today, so I decided to go for a walk. I was craving two things: food and books. I decided to blow my finances on only one of the options and not both, so I decided to go for books. Fortunately, I live only a couple blocks from the World's Biggest Book Store. I've always liked the analogy (when explaining distances), that I could hold my breath from my front door and run there without stopping for another. That's just how close it is.

I had only one book in mind that I wanted to buy, The Revised and Updated Painters Handbook. I've read nearly the entire book at the library, written notes, and copied the important diagrams into my sketchbook, but still decided on owning the real deal.
I also picked up another book, one that I never thought I'd care for until reading the table of contents. The third edition of The Business of Being an Artist covers such topics as:

Exhibitions and the art of selling art (media attention, selling publicly/privately, taxes, the value of a marketing plan)
Relationships with Dealers (finding representatives, bad debts and recoveries, consignment)
Expansion (licensing, self-publishing, publisher incentive,
Commissions (percent-of-art projects, the efforts to contain public art controversy, jurors and bias)

etc., etc.

Another book I came upon unexpectedly was actually the type of book I'd been looking for for some while now. I can't recall the name, but the gist was the hazards and health concerns that come with producing art, mainly dealing with materials, mediums, (and the topic of my concern) solvents.

I sat for nearly an hour looking over charts on different solvents and their properties, harmful or not. I found some information on one that I use quite regularly: turpentine. Now, I should mention that I am not ignorant to the fact that I know what some of these chemicals are capable of doing to my body, I was just seeking further knowledge. One major effect that I came across was something that not only shocked me, but answered a lot of questions as well.
ASTHMA.

That's correct.
For the past 8-12 months I suspected something was amiss in my body. I should have guessed when my CN Tower Stair Climb time jumped from 18 minutes to 26 in two years (all the while, I was living and producing art in Toronto). I constantly find myself out of breath, clutching my chest, and just an overall feeling of discomfort. I originally attributed this to mild heart problems, which is something I've been known to have since being young.
Among asthma, the book listed liver problems and skin irritation, although I would conclude that any liver problems I may have are due to Olde English.

Along with the change of solvents I'll have to make, there have been many big changes in the studio space, which I will elaborate on probably later this afternoon.

be well.

1920 - part 2 - That Night in Brandon

Brandon, Manitoba is a party.

There's not many people there, and there isn't really anything to do, but it's just the most bad ass little town to be in on a nice night. We spent the night at the Midway Motel and decided to get crazy. Why? There is a simple equation, at least to a Schmidt.

Driving + No Sunlight + Setting up the tent + Cooking + Mosquitoes = Hard Work

Motel + Ice Machines + Continental Breakfast + Outlets + Room Service + TV + Beds = Crazytime

So, with more than enough reasons to party on, we began with a parking lot tailgate party. This was nice because we got to relax with our shitty little griller, some beers, while watching an epic storm brew right before our eyes. Nothingwrongwiththat. What started with beer turned into some sort of liquor, and with TraBK mixing, it's no wonder the night ended the way it did. UUuuu..

Fortunately for those of you reading, I haven't had time to edit any of these photos. So what you're looking at are the true colors from the trip (besides, I don't edit them that much anyway). The sky was unnaturally blue that night, and with all the nitrogen in the air, the grass doesn't get much greener than that. This is the stuff I'd think about while I sat in bed, dreaming of the prairies. It may have been the only vacation to memory where I prayed for bad weather. Because, really, who wants to see a landscape of a blue sky? NEXT!

"Oh, Picasa. You wait until this one gets imported!" I love this photo above.

TraBK is a hilarious photographer.

If he ever decided to pursue it, his craft would be out of focus shots, because I think he loves them.

Right about here, pictured above, is where the night began kicking serious ass. We fled the hotel at the sight of such clouds and headed for some farmers fields. I think when I get to heaven (knock knock), I'll be greeted by a very similar image. I get flashbacks of running full tilt towards a dark horizon, laughing so hard I can barely breathe, numb, careless to the fact that some things in life just don't go as planned. Near this exact moment, I recall being hit by the first drop of rain, which was quite possibly a gentle reminder that heaven can wait.

Speaking of things ending strangely, we'll discuss that night. I was running around in the rain for a while back at the motel; standing under the hotel water runoff, having a great time. I got so wet that the shirt I was wearing didn't completely dry until about a week later. And then, when back in the room, I barfed? What the hell? We can't help but laugh at the fact ever since. I was just so strange. We were talking, and then all of a sudden things were all "Oh, Andy's barfing..". That was weird. I still apologize for crashing the party. At least the continental breakfast was good.

here goes something

It's about bloody time for another adventure.

I decided that now was the time to take some time off, away from the city, and venture somewhere into the woods. I asked my brother, Bike, if he wanted to join me on this expedition. This venture still makes me laugh at how hap-hazard the planning has been. We do, however, know where we're going, how we're getting there, and what we intend on doing with our time. Aside from an incredible amount of driving, we've got a couple tricks up our sleeves still.

Our route will take us north, around the great lakes towards Sault St. Marie, from there we'll venture up to Winnipeg, and make our way to the prairies of Saskatchewan, where my heart currently lies. From there I plan on making a few stops around Edmonton to see some friends, then continue on to visit more friends and some family in B.C. After that, we're venturing down into Seattle and the Pacific Northwest (something I've really wanted to see since watching Sunken Treasure with Jeff Tweedy). From there, it's off to Montana, South Dakota, Yellowstone National Park (psyched! Andy Adams, what), Devils Tower (close encounters of the third kind), Chicago, and hopefully the Museum of Motown in Detroit. It rounds off to about 8,500 k's; and with gas as high as it is, I'm sure to come home BROKEback Mountain.



I had this one wallpaper on my laptop almost the entire year that was a very simple image of the prairies at the break of dawn. Every night before I went to bed I would think about this place and strive to stand and breathe its air one day. I've got some sick obsession with deserted places, I think. I dream of the desert, constantly. This is probably why every landscape painting I've ever done (save for one portrait of Springbank Park), has a completely flat horizon line. Rural Canadian desert will do just fine. My plan is to wake up when the little hand on my watch points South, step out of whatever I may be sleeping in that night, hop a fence, and sit in some field when the air is still nice and cool and there's nothing breathing but myself for miles around.

This is where most of my inspiration lies and lives, and what I consider to be something close to heaven which, according to some (below), is a place I won't get to anytime soon!

(pictured: Han Solo and Iron Chef Bobby Flay, jumping on a bed)

Another big plan for this journey includes a documentary. Bike is an aspiring filmmaker, and I approached him about making a film that documents me documenting. It's kind of like a documentary, squared.
The main premise has two parts to it: one part studying the landscape through paintings, drawings, photographs, etc, and the second part being the actual production of the work, in which case I will lock myself in a concrete room for at least 5 days with no sense of time and no electricity. The two premises, in the film, will intermingle - showing from start to finish how my work is done. On top of everything else, I plan on writing the musical soundtrack for the film, possibly with the help of a few talented musicians. The film would be shown with the work, once exhibited. This is something I've wanted to do for a while now and am very, very excited for. It's a lot of work, but that's what the summer is for.

Needless to say, I'm pumped and am starting to get that "night-before-Christmas" vibe in my stomach when I sleep. Wish us a safe journey, in the Millennium Falcon.