nabbott blog

There was a memorial service for a firefighter on my block today. Last night I couldn't sleep– there's been construction at night on the BQE lately and the lights from that shine into my apartment, but last night it was crazier. At 5:30 AM I just got out of bed and watched. TV trucks, cops, barricades, etc. By Noon the streets for blocks around were packed with Brooklyn firefighters and their families. Definitely more of them than all of the residents of Breckenridge, from where I just moved. An impressive part of living in the big city.

This was just what I could see from my window. Bagpipes, salutes, sirens, chills:

Another pic, sunset over the weekend, from the other window, fits with the album I'm listening to (Ugly Cassanova which is a Modest Mouse side project):

Posted by at 3:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Not much blogging going on, too much work. And by work I mean shooting photos and partying and playing soccer and running around the city and updating portfolios and hanging out with friends and playing music very loud (Three bands for this week: Patrick Wolf, The Velvet Underground and The National) and skateboarding and editing photos.

Just watched this movie about the Cuban writer Reinaldo Arenas called Before Night Falls. Maybe you'd like it. Not really important, but Johnny Depp plays a sadistic prison guard and also a cross dresser who smuggles Arenas' novel out of prison in his ass.

My Lover Sea

I am that child
with the round, dirty face
who on every corner bothers you with his
“Can you spare a quarter?”

I am that child with the dirty face,
no doubt unwanted,
that from far away contemplates coaches
where other children
emit laughter and jump up and down considerably

I am that unlikeable child
definitely unwanted,
with the round dirty face
who before that giant street lights or
under the grandams also illuminated
or in front of the little girls that seem to levitate
projects that insult of his dirty face

I am that angry and lonely child of always,
that throw you the insult and warns you:
if hypocritically you pat me on the head
I would take that opportunity to steal your wallet

I am that child of always
before the panorama of imminent terror
imminent leprosy, imminent fleas,
of offenses and the imminent crime.

I am that repulsive child that improvises a bed
out of an old cardboard box and waits,
certain that you will accompany me

-Reinaldo Arenas

Posted by at 1:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Brooklyn, I miss you. I miss running in the park and nearly puking at that northern bench where all old men congregate and their collective body odor wafts 30 feet in every direction. I miss brunch. And I miss mi amigos. And I miss the BQE. And the L train. And rooftop parties. And unplanned, but beautiful photos like this:

Actually, I'm in LA and its fucking amazing here. I'm off to lunch with fancy Hollywood boys and then going to the Getty, but I'll be back in the hood tomorrow.

Posted by at 2:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)