The Happiest Place on Earth.

With the Superbowl now over, what was I going to do next? Go to Disneyland, naturally.

Last week, I got to traipse around the happiest place on earth with the happiest company on earth, as part of our annual company trip. Google flew its west coast employees down to sunny LA, put us up in Anaheim and Disneyland hotels, and granted us free passes to both Disneyland and California Adventures for the day. At night, they reserved the entire park for us, set up bars, DJs, and dance floors, not to mention the most awesome fireworks display I've ever seen.

Scenes from Disneyland:

Outside California Adventures. I love this photo for its washed out, 70's family vacation quality.

Entering Main Street. The colors and vibrancy make it a perfect subject for Lomos. The developed photos actually came out like this, with the black borders. I cropped out the borders on the other pictures, but thought this one looked cool. I don't think I loaded the film properly, but it's a cool effect.

Mickey & Tink! The first thing you see when you enter the Disneyland turnstiles.

You can see Matterhorn peeking out from off in the distance.

The enchanted castle. Not sure why this turned out so washed out.. a bit more than I would have liked. Anyone know how to avoid the glare? Perhaps the shutter was held down too long.

Tommorrowland. I got to ride Space Mountain with the lights on at 1 in the morning!

Teacups. I never get sick of this ride. I get giddy everytime I spin the wheel.

During the trip, I ran into two girls from my high school. It really is a small world after all..

In front of the Haunted Mansion. There was this glare that ruined a bunch of shots on this roll, but it works for this one. Maybe it's an apparition. :)

A barbershop quartet at a store on Main Street. Still trying to figure out the best camera settings for indoor and evening shots, but I like how the stripes came out.

I'm naturally terrible about taking photos, but now that I have my new Diana+ made by those folks over at Lomography, photography is fun again.

Writer's Block.

Inspire me.

Sketchcrawling in Europe.

I'm terrible about taking pictures, so here are some sketches instead:

**Disclaimer: It looks like the colors aren't really showing up. I once inadvertently dabbed Clinique Moisture Surge Extra on the paintbrush, and the colors haven't been the same ever since. I guess thirsty skin relief isn't much for watercolors.


This lamp post is from a traffic circle in Berlin that I chanced upon after leaving an antique market en route to the Bauhaus Museum. There's a big statue there, famously captured in the Wim Wenders film Wings of Desire, but what captivated me were the lamp posts encircling the monument. I have this obsession with lamposts and gaslights. I noticed them in everywhere I traveled, and my intention was to sketch one in each city had I the time and the patience. Unfortunately, I lacked both.


The view of old town Prague from the Charles Bridge. After going on a walking tour, I wandered across the Charles Bridge and decided to sit out and sketch while the sun was still out. The castle and cathedral are in the distance.


This is the chandelier from the opera house in Prague. I got to see Verdi's Rigoletto at the decadent Prague Opera House. The story of a fool (court jester) seeking fatherly vengeance based on a story by Mr. Les Miserables himself. Crime and punishment themes - classic Victor Hugo. I always imagined operas to be stuffy and boring affairs, but I absolutely loved it. We showed up in jeans and sneakers for lack of decent attire, and it was funny how apparent the distinction between native and tourist was. I quickly scribbled this during intermission.


The Széchenyi Chain Bridge on the Danube River that links Buda (old town) and Pest (new town). This is probably the most beautiful bridge I saw during my travels. I walked over this at night and sketched the lit bridge from the other side, in front of the Four Seasons.


The port in Barcelona. People have been asking me which place was my favorite, and I'm at a loss for how to respond. I loved them all. But as if you were to ask me which country, I'd say Spain in a heartbeat. The culture, the ability to communicate (thanks to high school Spanish).. But I think weather had a lot to do with it. They say that Barcelona is like the California of Europe, so after backpacking through the freezing Eastern parts of Europe, I was thrilled to be able to wear t-shirts and Havaianas again. I spent a day wandering the streets of Barcelona, and lounged by the beach. The port was reminiscent of Marina del Rey or Newport - hoooooome.


The flower mart in Nice. Nice is nice. Har har har. So lame, I know, but I just had to say that. The entire French Riviera, actually, is breathtaking. What struck me first were the colors - a vivid palette of the brightest paints. And this outdoor flower market in Vieux Nice captured my fancy. If I lived there, I think I would buy freshly cut flowers every day.

And so ends my sketchcrawling. I tried to draw something in each city, but by the time I reached Paris, I was freezing and simply couldn't bear to sit outdoors in the thirty or forty degree weather. Now back to reality. Au revoir Europa!

Objet d'Art.

I've been noticing that the more modern art museums I go to, I'm seeing an increasing amount of chairs. Not chairs for weary travelers to rest upon, but chairs as art installations. This thought strikes me as I'm wandering through the Centre Pompidou's Musee National d' Art Moderne. Truth be told, I don't know that a chair belongs in a museum. As if the well of obscure paintings is running dry, they're now turning to the chair as objet d'art.

In fact, they much resemble the ones in my home, but perhaps that's the point. Chair at home is a replica of revolutionary design that has been mass produced and knocked off to no end, so as to seamlessly become something so commonplace that one does not give it another thought.

I suppose I can understand this sudden insurgence of household items from a design standpoint. From a purely design perspective, there was once a problem (fatigue) that needed solving, and this led to the development of the chair. But that is problem singular. Just how many other problems could there be, other than perhaps ones addressing posture?

As I pass a gnome stool designed by Phillippe Starck, I have to wonder, what correlation could a mythical garden dweller have with exhaustion or respite?

The thing is, I've grown rather fond of these chairs. The fanciful designs, the graceful curvatures. Had I the resources, I certainly wouldn't protest a work by Eames. As I migrate from room to room, contemplating the selection of furniture, all I want to do is sit down in one of them. But I suppose that's the problem with the chair as art. You can't use them in the capacity they were intended for.

Tout Sweet.

I now realize why I've come to Europe. (You know, aside from that soul searching bit.) I've come to eat and wander - to walk around and observe, constructing narratives in my head. There's nothing really, aside from these two things, that I care to do.. except maybe the occasional store or two.

More and more, I recognize that my travel style is simply to walk down streets. Sometimes with a map, sometimes without. Main streets are fun, but back or side streets are even better. Going in and out of boutiques, easily distracted, and sampling the goods at the occasional bakery or street vendor. The less money spent, the better. I don't even need to go into the museums. I'm in it for the local culture.

I'm simulateously infatuated with and sick of shopping. However, I think if I could only shop at the following two stores for the rest of my life: A.P.C. and Comptoir des Cotonniers, I could be happy. Wishful thinking. Oh, and Topshop's fun too.

The food here is amazing. And by food, what I really mean is dessert. Not a day goes by when I do not consume some form of chocolate. Milka, Kinder, Lindt, Cadbury - this is all readily available in all parts of Europe.

And then there are the bakeries.

The local patisseries featuring the most decadent of sweets and confections. From the tortes of Vienna to the postres (notably, the Creme Catalans of Barcelona), I am in a gourmand's paradise. I have indulged in the original Sachertorte at Cafe Sacher in Austria, licked happily at my several cones of panna cotta e fragola gelato in Milan, and sampled Movenpick ice cream on the French Riviera. And there is no stopping this consumption.

Hawaii and its beaches and (gulp) bikinis are less than a month away, but this is too good to resist. Perhaps a one piece is in order.

On Prague.

I'll begin with two things about Prague, or Praha as they call it here. First, hockey appears to be the national sport here. This makes for one very happy tourist. Apparently, a bunch of their players end up in the NHL. I wonder if any of them are Sharks. Also cool is the fact that the Czech president is friends with Lou Reed and Mick Jagger. This president is bad ass - friends with rock stars, spent time in jail for standing up to communism for his political beliefs, and hung out at Kaverna Slavia - the intellectual's hangout. He's definitely a Gryffindor.

Here's what I love about Prague: the buildings are reminiscent of Disney movies. They have these quaint outdoor marketplaces where they sell authentic gingerbread (more bread than cookie), hand-carved wooden ornaments and marionettes. It may quite possibly be the loveliest place to spend Christmas. There is a Marks & Spencer here, bringing back only the fondest of memories of Stratford. Many of the cathedrals and palace grounds do not charge entrance fees. The architecture with the turquoise blue spires. The opera, symphonies and overall appreciation for music, and good music at that. Sketchcrawling on the Charles Bridge. And last but not least, the beer - Pilsner Urquell to be exact.

Here's what I hate about Prague: taxi drivers that rip you off.

There's something about spending money in a currency that numerically has no semblance to the US Dollar. The Euro and even the Pound are somewhat gaugeable, but the Czech Krown? Forget it. I'm having trouble distinguishing these coins. And so happily am I investing in the Czech economy.. at least until I get my credit card statement.

On Berlin.

The city is.. very modern with a sad history. Devastated by the likes of Hitler and both World Wars, Berlin has been bombed out and reconstructed within the past century. I knew the Holocaust was bad, but we're talking over 3000 Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals, people of color massacred daily.

The weather is.. offputting. It's cold here, and I'm not normally one to experience this sensation they call 'cold.' Freezing, actually. Just the other day, I walked out in just a track jacket and flip-flops in what I can only imagine to be 40 degree weather. I have never been so cold in my life.

The hostel is.. the best. My roommates are: a twenty-two year old Italian would-be rocker, an Australian structural engineer headed to London, an introspective Brazilian artist, two Australian girls currently living in London, and an Australia film editor also working in London. Gosh. Maybe I should move to London too. But I digress.. the Circus Hostel, highly recommend.

The food is.. flipping fantastic. A snacker's paradise. I officially have a new answer to the question "If you were on a desert island and could eat only one food for an entire year.." Goodbye Potbellys, hello chicken kebabs from the place off the Rosenthalerplatz U-bahn!

The keyboard is.. confusing. Simple things such as typing: the y's are where the z's should be, and vice versa. It's throwing me off. And forget about trying to type the @ sign. This severely limits my facebooking capabilities, seeing as how I can't even log in.

The architecture is.. modernist in part due to Bauhaus influence, but in a greater part because of the fact that most of the buildings were desecrated by the bombings of WWII.

The nightlife is.. happening. Or so I hear. Have been jetlagged and exhausted from two full days of walking. But my dormmates tell me it's the best, as they stagger back in at daybreak. Meanwhile, I happily cozy into my covers in the top bunk of a seven-person co-ed dorm, while curling up with a book.

The style is.. dark and well-tailored. Blacks and greys layering edgy coats, leggings, and ruched leather boots with razor sharp hair styles to boot. That seems to be the Eastern European aesthetic. That being said, I arrive in Berlin wearing a pouchy bohemian shirt with - heaven forbid - white sneakers. I'm wishing I were having a sartorialist moment right about now.

The neighborhood is.. lively. I walked down the store-lined street toward a cathedral in the distance, and what's the first thing I see upon arriving at said Catholic church? A cupcakerie across the way. So a vanilla buttercream cupcake is my first food purchase in Europe.

I think this trip was meant to be.