Ragtime Halloween At PCS
October 29, 2009 12:23 am by Lauren Hudgins
Archive for October, 2009
Ragtime For the Last Time at PCS
October 28, 2009 2:03 am by Lauren Hudgins
“We may eat brains but we do have hearts!”
October 20, 2009 10:20 pm by Lauren Hudgins
Oh hell yes. Zombie Walk 2009 is this Saturday, October 24th.
Get gangrenous and get your limp on downtown. Last year there were over 1,000 zombies stumbling around like wrinkled old grannies going through a scotch withdrawal. (but for brAIIINS!) Participation is free (just look like a zombie) but the organizers are begging you to make a donation to the Oregon Food Bank. (“We may eat brains but we do have hearts!”)
The 5th annual Portland zombie walk lurch begins at 3pm between Jefferson and Madison in the South Park Blocks.
Since the date of the zombie walk is the same day as Thrill the World, I would wager that the two are going to meet up at some point (probably 5:30 when Thrill the World begins).
I know it’s tempting. I know. I know. But please do not smear fake blood all over public or private property. It might seem like a funny prank to us, (I sure thought it was hilarious.) but last year the organizers were threatened with citations and had to clean it all up after us. That’s not fair, especially after all the work they’ve already put into the event.
After the zombie walk, I’ll be heading to the 7pm showing of HUMP. I’ll probably won’t time to take the face goo off. I was worried about looking like a zombie at a pornographic film festival, but then my friend told me that it would probably be appropriate, “I’m sure there will be a strong necrophiliac contingency.” Then I got even more worried.
Photos by Sayla Marz.
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Day 3 of Portland Fashion Week
October 17, 2009 9:55 pm by Lauren Hudgins
Day 2 of Portland Fashion Week 2009
October 13, 2009 12:19 am by Lauren Hudgins
Day 1 of Portland Fashion Week 2009
October 10, 2009 5:45 pm by Lauren Hudgins
Dino Tarot
October 9, 2009 1:23 am by Lauren Hudgins
Tonight there was a woman doing “Dino Tarot” at the Hawthorne food carts. She does it several times a week at the carts for a $2 donation. Instead of cards she has plastic dinosaur figurines, each one representing a different interpreted fate.
It was engrossing enough that I didn’t notice that I had chocolate from my whiffie all over my face.
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Portland Fashion Week
October 4, 2009 10:44 pm by Lauren Hudgins
Portland Fashion Week is coming up soon. VERY soon. This Wednesday.
Most designers hail from Portland or the nearby Pacific Northwest, but some international designers have been recruited from as far away as Pakistan and New Zealand (wool, of course).
Portland has a lot of creative talent that deserves attention. It obviously doesn’t get enough. PFW is still using Leanne Marshall, winner in season 5 of Project Runway, as its claim to fame, although her last participation was PFW 2007.
As fall sets in and it’s getting colder, I am looking forward to seeing the latest Portland has to offer in coats. Amai Unmei will be showing her marvelous collection on Friday, October 9.
On Saturday, PFW has two shows, the matinee is quintessentially Portland, titled “Ready to Roll.” Presented by Momentum Magazine, 28 companies and designers will be introducing their most bike friendly products. This daytime show is also a benefit for Oregon Manifest.
Sunday’s theme is “Green and Sustainable Designer Shows & Programs” but I can’t find much information about what makes it so. A few of the designers boast using “sustainable” material.
Portland Fashion Week
October 7-11
Schedule & Tickets
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Day 2 MFNW- Dirty Three @ Berbati’s Pan
October 1, 2009 12:25 am by Lauren Hudgins
Dirty Three is the most terrifying band with a violin.
At Berbati’s Pan, they were also pretty dirty. Mick Turner, the guitarist, was only plain and homely in a blue shirt and jeans. However, Warren Ellis (violin) and Jim White (drums) bore greasy long hair and wild beards. They came on stage in black suits but stripped off their coats, remaining in dark dress pants and button-down shirts partially untucked. Jim White was portly with broad shoulders. His hair was balding through his curly hair in the back of the head. Warren Ellis was lean. He had his shirt half unbuttoned, showing two chains around his neck, one holding a cross.
Warren Ellis spoke for the band. Early on he mentioned his jealous of Jim Morrison, saying sometimes you have an “idea to go to Paris, get fat, take lots of smack and die in a bar, then you realize it’s been done before.”
Some songs had multiple titles and I’m sure they were not the real titles, such as the “Indian Love Song Go, Blow It Up Your Fucking Ass.” Ellis ground his hips against the violin he was plucking, acting on his slimy-sexual musical Id. A strange fan stood in front of me, wearing sunglasses, with lines drawn all over his or her face. The person staggered to the music feeling up its face and buzzed head in zealous ecstasy. A man standing behind me in the audience got my attention and put his cell phone under my face. On the screen it simply said “ferocity.”
Ellis was flexible enough to do a grasshopper kick with his right leg up to his violin, then dropped to the floor. I could no longer see him above the crowd. I believe he was looping the sounds. Then he got up and hit his violin until it moaned like a moose. The bow was frayed by the end of the first song. He made odd sounds by humming into his violin, although at first I thought he was planning to pluck the strings with his teeth.
Of one song he said, “this is a song about lying in bed for 48 hours and being awake for 57 of those 42 hours because you’ve been doing to much crystal meth that your brain feels like a shriveled up testicle, ok, a shriveled up ovary because you’re thinking about too much shit. Somewhere at 24:11 in the morning there’s a whole bunch of shit I don’t want to know about at all.”
A later song was called “Sea Above, Sky Below (Or My Asshole Is On My Shoulders).” Another one I can’t remember, but it had something to do with psychedelic drugs, holes, dicks, lighting oneself on fire, floating up to a cloud, and meeting the Dirty Three. It was also called by the recognizable title of “Hope.”
By the end of the set, Warren Ellis’s shirt was plastered to his back and his pants drenched. His hair was damp enough to reveal the large earrings underneath. Recent beads of sweat glowed under the black light across his temples. I smelled body odor. It was probably some one nearby in the crowd, but possibly it was the very Dirty Three.
More MFNW photos by Mike Burnett.
