I went down to Austin for a family wedding last weekend. In between wedding related events I caught up with my buddy Grant and went on some adventures. Austin is a great town for adventures. After the rehearsal dinner it was off to the BS Saloon for some lonestars. Then we bombed the hill in front of Grants apartment.

Intersection of S. Lamar and Barton Springs…lot’s of bikes were out that night

the next morning it was Taco Deli across from the Greenbelt enterance

It was an amazingly beautiful day and everyone was out enjoying it

Grant is a champion and can hold 8 salsas with two hands without dropping them

there was a bird in that tree and was positioned right above those two’s table…nothing ever came of it but I can assure you they were both holding their breath and bracing for the worst

I had some of the best fish tacos I’ve ever had in my life

grant opted for beef

and the salsa was incredible

buffalo exchange…this little tidbit of wisdom caught my eye…I found an awesome casualties shirt

toy-joy…is that not a great cartoon bowie?

bar none the most mysterious thing I have ever bought…I got it for someone special…now they’re connected

spiderhouse…sometimes a blinking jelly alligator is just the right addition to the bar

we grabbed some beers at spiderhouse and enjoyed their tremendous patio

Ahhhhhh the Draught Horse…I always end up here when I come to Austin and there is always something going on in the parking lot

even before they open…man you mean we gotta sit here for 15 minutes?

there was a bike ride gearing up and these guys were serious

then we lost interest because the doors opened

we’re soldiers…and we had two rounds

I’m not exactly sure what they were but from left to right we have a quadrupell a tripell and double (it’s a maredsou #8 and believe it or not the bartender didn’t charge us for it)

round 2

this guys girlfriend was really cool and he had some serious flair on his tandem

I love this State…

I lived in Denton for 7 long years and the whole time I did, something sinister was brewing, just under the surface. That sinister force is called Battlebox and I got to witness it first hand last friday with some friends and an 18-pack of lone star (another one of my best friends). Imagine a place where you can see grown men performing some of the most amazing and downright reckless stunts you’ve ever seen. Professionsl Wrestling is about 70% theatricality and about 30% actual danger. At ECW in Denton I’d say that ratio swings to around 20% theatrics (with the characters and the shit talk and the pulled punches) about 10%…call it crazy? maybe stupidity? or just balls (of which every one of these guys has a huge hairy pair)…and about 60% real bodies in real pain bleeding real blood for a crowd that just eats it up.

It’s Ali Gorey from the Wrecking Crew, Crook Shanks, and Adam (from ECW)

I couldn’t see it but there is a table directly in front of the ring and the first person to break it with a body other than his own is declared the winner.

take note of where these people are sitting and how many spectators are there in the middle

he’s trying to get to that lunch box thing hanging from the lighting rig. in answer to your questions 1. those are fluorescent light bulbs in the ropes 2. yes that is glass on the floor of the ring and 3. yes people were body slammed on top of the glass all night long

I just got up to go to the bathroom and ended up with the best seat in the house

this zebra looked like mr.darcy from married with children he faired better than the other ref (that looked exactly like george lucas) who got knocked out in the next round and then made a really bad call as to who the winner was. I was pissed, and so was everyone else.

yeah he’s bleeding and getting thrown out of the ring. talk about insult to injury

One thing I’ve learned is you always want to keep one eye on the turnbuckle because people are always flying off of it when you least expect it

see what i mean?

this guy won but not after earning a giant t-shaped gash in the middle of his face

this is where all those spectators were earlier

at this point the 18-pack was down pretty far, I feared not for my own safety I just wanted some action shots

blood on the chair? check blood on the floor? check and all of those chairs someone was sitting in

the aftermath

and the final was a pretty non eventful cage match (with a cage match you don’t really get the crowd interaction that makes this sport so rewarding)

and to end the night dominoes…no surprise there

I live in a place that I do not interact with in any kind of significant way, and I have a hard time believing I’m the only one. My apartment is a space for me to live but it is certainly not home. I feel more at home in the many places I keep toothbrushes. How many more of us are there that, like me, also commute to their social lives. I make the drive every Sunday or Monday, and have for a long while now, either out of Dallas or Denton, where I spend my weekends. I join the gridlock caravan of the work-a-days only once a week and I wonder if the rest of this calvalcade of half-dead and half-asleep appreciate this weekly pilgrimage. They sip they’re coffee and curse the traffic, and sometime I do too, but I also know that this is living. A direct and very concrete consequence of the choices I have made. This, my weekly commute back to work in a town that, knows nothing about and holds nothing for me. Lewisville is too far to drive home to after an extended stay at the bars but is close to work and half way between my normal destinations. So I keep my change of clothes in the back of my car and a toothbrush where ever I can. My toothbrush, like the flag of some foreign invader in a bathroom proclaims that “Justin sleeps here some nights, and is a fan of personal hygiene” (I have quite a few out there, you might check the cup by your sink). I often wonder if this kind of existence is typical of others lives, or if I’m part of a minority of expatriates, forced by their professional responsibilities to live in a place that feels like exile. A displaced population longing to return to a place that feels like home. None of this is to say I am an unhappy person, the truth is, I am. It would just be a lot more convenient if my professional and personal lives could exist in the same locale.

I’m starting to worry lately that I may never figure out any of those nagging little idiosyncrasies that are always on the tip of my brain. I may never realize why people do the little things that I find so fascinating about them. I’ve been developing a body of artwork that has been investigating the same themes for the last few years and the more work I create the less I feel I’m any closer to making any breakthroughs in my ongoing research. Maybe that’s just what a body of work is. Continuous meditations on a theme that becomes part of a greater conversation about that topic. Maybe it’s just because my art hasn’t had the benefit of an audience since I left school. In my current situation this conversation is with myself. And a conversation with one’s self tends to lead around in circles. This kind of crisis definitely gives an artist greater perspective into and appreciation for, the audiences role in the creation of artwork. And the world at large. If it wasn’t for the people who do things that are annoying, or creepy, or horrible, would the world be such a great place to live? It all goes back to the bittersweet conversation. Would the sweet be as sweet without the bitter? And would the bittersweet be so damn interesting. For a guy that preys on the bittersweet for subject matter I’m inclined to say no.