nabbott blog

It's supposed to snow in the city this weekend, but I was out and about in the cold today. I went to about 8 opening receptions at galleries in Chelsea tonight. 4 epic. 4 lame. I took some pictures that are embarrassing when compared to the dope as hell other stuff I saw tonight. Everyone seems to be printing six foot tall amazing Epson prints. Awe inspiring.

The most popular piece of luggage in Greenpoint.

Sunset. (I'm gagging at this, but whatever, ain't it sweet?)

One of the openings I went to was for Pieter Hugo's "THE HYENA & OTHER MEN". If I had a spare $15,000 around, I'd definitely buy one of these prints. Beautiful, huge, amazing. I don't think anyone in New York reads this, but if you're here, go see this in person at Yossi Milo Gallery. Or check out the rest of his work at www.pieterhugo.com.

Alhaji Hassan with Ajasco, Ogere-Remo, Nigeria 2007. By Pieter Hugo.

Posted by nmablog at 10:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

This story and slide show is amazing. On the subway, in the swimming pool, crying, on the swing. Wow.

Slide show.

NY Times story.

Posted by nmablog at 09:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Not sure where that is anymore. I've been with my family for the last week. I miss them horribly, its so much fun even when my sister, Grandma, cousins, Mom, four year old niece, etc. are slaughtering me at cards or bingo or whatever.

Back in the city for 24 hours now, almost collapsed playing soccer this morning, heard at least 6 languages on the subway, drank coffee and walked in Union Square, cast sly glances at the amazing ladies on the subway, ran the battery to red on my IPod, ordered takeout Thai, wore a sweater and a hoody and a jacket and a scarf at the same time (and wasn't too warm).

But I also checked the surf in Sayulita and Barbados and California and Australia...

Emily and (my) Mom getting the sunset photo on Emily's camera.

Posted by nmablog at 08:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thanksgiving morning I was victorious in the first Annual Seaside Beach Turkey Trot—or whatever it was really called. 5 kilometers of shoeless, sandy fun run—and I have to thank my sister for dragging us all out there, Stephanie for making me swim to the boat every day in Sayulita, Vampire Weekend for the uplifting soundtrack, my parents for all their support, my niece Emily for cheering me on, Uncle Ed for video taping it all and God for looking down on my with a benevolent eye. Ok, but seriously, I have never before won anything in my life. Not a thing. More importantly, I was able to put back 3 pieces of pumpkin pie later in the afternoon.

Posted by nmablog at 10:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I think I might be done eating fish (unless of course, the ladies of Sayulita catch it, god I miss y'all!)

New Yorker story about Sea Shepherd
TW Surf story about Rastovich et al protest in Japan
seashepherd.org

Quote from New Yorker article:

"Like the other forms of industrial fishing, longlines, some of which submerge thousands of hooks in the water, yield immense quantities of bycatch, or unwanted fish, most of which is severely injured or dead. Every year in the United States alone, more than a million tons of bycatch is discarded; in relative terms, this amounts to more than twenty per cent of all the fish hauled out of American waters. Some fisheries are more wasteful than others. Among the most notorious is the shrimp harvest in the Gulf of Mexico. Conducted by bottom trawling, it results in more than eighty per cent bycatch, and countless plants and corals have been uprooted and dumped overboard. There is no terrestrial equivalent of this type of harvest. Pauly says that it would be like bulldozing whole forests to hunt deer."

Posted by nmablog at 01:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm now 31 and my birthday was amazing—I met people, and saw things, and went places, and touched the sand, and washed my face in the sea. So thanks to everyone who was there and thanks for the notes and cards and stuff. I owe each of you a response. But I'm with my family now for the (American) Thanksgiving week. So it'll probably have to wait a little while.

Follow this link and read about Antony Flew, a famous Atheist philosopher and the religious right (perhaps) fucking with him in his later years.

"The dinosaur tracks in England all went from west to east the book said. By what light was this fact knowledge"? Wasn't it just one more inexplicable thing to mystify them, didn't it subtract from what they knew, rather than add to it? The sabotage of knowledge by a wealth of facts—they weren't professors, but guerrillas." -Fiskadoro

Knowledge : noun
1) obsolete : cognizance
2) a (1): the fact or condition of knowing something with familiarity gained through experience or association (2): acquaintance with or understanding of a science, art, or technique b (1): the fact or condition of being aware of something (2): the range of one's information or understanding c: the circumstance or condition of apprehending truth or fact through reasoning : cognition
d: the fact or condition of having information or of being learned
3) archaic : sexual intercourse
4) a: the sum of what is known : the body of truth, information, and principles acquired by humankind barchaic : a branch of learning

Noah helping with a birthday drink.

Posted by nmablog at 03:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Only one for today. Wish you were here.

Rayita and Sarah.

Jessica and Mel and the setting sun.

Posted by nmablog at 07:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I need coffee.

Jewels.

Josh.

Posted by nmablog at 11:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Andrew waiting for tacos.

Toe nails.

Margaritas at soccer game.

Soccer.

Pollo.

Sofia.

Posted by nmablog at 08:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sitting with my back to the wind, bouncing through the waves, exhausted from surfing, sipping a warm beer. That's a moment.

Late night at Tigre's, pinata spilled, meeting people, watching the passing people in the plaza below, drunken birthday kids, friends faces, buzzing head. That's another.

Reading "No Country fro Old Men", Vampire Weekend playing, head racing to keep up, fan blowing in my face. Yet another.

Town.

Mountains.

Waiting.

Motion.

Posted by nmablog at 08:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My last night in Sayulita was Salsa night. And my first night, after 24 hours of travel including a lost surfboard and its bag which held all my clothes, was Salsa Night. The same players at Don Pedro's, in the same places—hot older solo salsa lady, American Crock couple who've been to classes, Doc Chili with latest girlfriend, Mustang killing it, Joel being smooth, Quai in the far corner bigger and blonder than last year, Kristen the and different couples from Golden, and me dancing to my own special beat that sure as shit isn't salsa. All very amazing.

This morning I'm sitting by the beach, in newly purchased surf trunks, next to new dogs who seem to come and go with the seasons, the surf today is double the biggest day last year. Smiling, sipping coffee, I'll just sit in the shade until United gets my board to me. Que Bueno!

Posted by nmablog at 11:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tell me. Who's that girl, running around with you.
Eurythmics.
LOL, Amazing— the Video!

There is a house built out of stone
Wooden floors, walls and window sills...
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust..
This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home.......

Cause, I built a home
for you
for me

Until it disappeared
from me
from you

And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust........
The Cinematic Orchestra, To Build a Home.

4AM, the airport.

Posted by nmablog at 07:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I foresaw this moment - this day. Watching the marathon, huddled against the cold. I don't have a future. But I still do work and prepare for it.

I'll be in Mexico tomorrow, I apparently decided to get hammered last night and miss my flight this morning. I knew it was a bad idea when I booked it. Oh well, another day closer to the end.

Here is round one of wedding pictures: PG and RG 4 Ever!

This picture sort of sums up how I feel, right now—except I'm listening to South America by The Shout Out Louds and I can't help but smile. Yes, I'm out tonight. Duh.

Posted by nmablog at 04:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Main Entry: in·er·tia
Pronunciation: \i-ˈnər-shə, -shē-ə\
Function: noun
Etymology: New Latin, from Latin, lack of skill, from inert-, iners
Date: 1713
1 a: a property of matter by which it remains at rest or in uniform motion in the same straight line unless acted upon by some external force b: an analogous property of other physical quantities (as electricity)
2: indisposition to motion, exertion, or change

Off I go again—to surf, to explore, to share times with friends. Mexico again. Sayulita again. I've been locked in on something this past year. Number 30. An explosion and pull of life stronger and more mysterious than before. Moments of pain and tears and the rips and rents of each day. Meetings and findings and an unstoppable force of time. Acting without regard. What a fucking mess of a year.

I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?

I'll be back with a new entry from Mexico each day. See you on the other side.

Posted by nmablog at 06:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)