the other side


Last year, one of my nearest and dearest friends, Cristin, and I decided to throw an art show under a collective we started called UnderBelly Art. We organized the event kinda just because and kinda just to see what kind of magic we could make with some like-minded people in the city. Our first event Yards of Chinatown, although made possible through no formal plan and the most minimal of budgets, was the cat's meow! We had a weird and wonderful group of artists, performers and patrons soaking up the community love (and spiked refreshments) and adoring local art all day long.

Since this event last summer, Cristin and I have been gearing up for another summer large-scale outdoor art event, along with a slew of other strange and mystical pop-up art events for the Fall. 

Our big bang summer art show, PillowTalk (with Mr.Sandman) is taking shape and drawing near (Sunday, August 12! Woo!) Right now, we're organizing our community-driven art projects that are taking place all through July in preparation for the show. As well, we are sending out a call to all artists, performers, musicians, artisans, or anyone with an inspired idea or industrious spirit to participate in the show. 

The atmosphere of the concept of 'pillow talk' simply breeds conversation, so we’re asking all participants to reinterpret, redo or reenact a moment inspired by the pillow and help us transform a space in order to explore the conundrum of sleep and dream life. If you're interested in participating or would like some more information, give me a hola! underbellyoutfit@gmail.com

You can also keep up-to-date of projects and art opportunities by liking our Facebook pageOr you can follow our every move via twitter @undrbellyoutfit

Thanks for showing interest or getting involved. Mad love!
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The UnderBelly Art Collective hosts large-scale and pop-up events that present the community with an opportunity to come together to initiate new thinking or weave a different social fabric for the arts. Taking the form of a gallery, a performance space, a gathering for miscellaneous ideas--you name it--UnderBelly aims to create a welcoming and highly accessible venue for artistic freedom and exchange.

Our creativity is expressed through the love of thought. Love of art. Love of sounds. Love of love. We are looking for the beauty in every moment--we cheer on the tug of war between artistic abandon and structure. We applaud the moments that are simultaneously chaotic and harmonious. We encourage the heroic experiments of the maniacally over-ambitious, while provoking curiosity and curating a new experience. Like a black hole, Underbelly wants to draw you in and make sure you can’t escape our pull. But this isn’t rocket science. This is magic.

[website launching summer 2012] 


june

If I said what I meant all the time I would regret it, although feel better, momentarily, before everything collapsed into hurried words and hot-headed agony. So I’m not. And I haven’t. And as you can tell by the lack of activity here, I’ve been keeping it low-key. How else am I supposed to keep you interested and consistently coming back if I’m not shrouded in a bit mystery, huh?
Essentially, I’m summing up this month-long hiatus from writing as the time I buckled napalm to my actions and reactions in order to give you something  good to read--a vacation from scrutinizing thoughts and assessing behaviour and just carrying on in a reckless manner regardless if I remember how or why. You guys cool with that?
So as a 1-2-punch update: life has been a parachute opened, impossible to shove back into the case. So much has happened, started, stopped, and continues on in unknown directions. Read a little, seen a lot. I’ve sat porchside, stoopside, poolside, on the right, and wrong side of bars with my tight little clad of friendly bandits. Some of the writing work I’m doing is chomping away at my senses and poisoning my vocabulary, but then the art!…oh the art projects I’m involved in makes it feel like I’m grabbing a brick and busting through the window of whatever’s making me feel trapped—pure satisfaction.
 My partner in crime is back from Scandinavia. The moon is increasingly more influential. I’m finding new nerve endings I never thought I had. The city! The city is alive and degrees away from exploding some days. I love it; but also am burgeoning in time spent out of it.
Some days are like cinematic feverous dreams, like fireworks in th eyes and swollen kisses and hallucinations that certain moments will last forever. And then there are days spent with my head in between my knees, gently rocking, trying to find balance again. Another nothing. Another something, Another summer.