It’s 9:47pm and I just got home from having a burger and a beer with my homey/big brother Los from LiveStock. It’s been a while since I’ve made the decision to go to bed this early, but after last night’s 6am sleep and this morning’s 9am wake-up, I’m much too exhausted to clean my room, fold my laundry, or finish designing this flyer, let alone do my Plyometrics workout.

The plan is for me to wake up bright and early tomorrow morning and get those things done while my mind is still half asleep. Then I can get to fixing things at the office and getting onto some more design based projects. It shouldn’t be too hard right? It’s just a matter of discipline, I guess.

I left the office around 8 to meet up with Los for food after spending some time doing a design for a few friends of mine. I admit that it was a struggle working on this project. I feel like I’m at such a comfortable point with my own work that I really would like to just be doing what I want to do artistically and creatively. I know, that sounds terribly diva-ish. But the truth is that I feel like I am running out of time to do everything that I have thought up in my head and at some point I’ve gotta step away from doing what someone else wants me to do.

I know that there’s a responsibility that I have to pay my bills and get by. But I also have a responsibility to myself and to my craft. I need a sense of release in my work and plain and simple, I feel like my energy for client work is wearing thin (again). There are equations and equations that I run over in my mind constantly that weigh out the affects of making decisions toward or away from freelancing or personal art projects, and in the end, the answer always seems to be, “You can’t afford to do just what you want right now”.

Ain’t that the sad truth for us all.

I’m definitely posting this on the blog as a release, not as a cry for a response and solution to the “problem”, but I am feeling like I’m going to do something a little out of character in order to not only find an answer, but to find the right solution. Something like writing my own god damn equation.

Until tomorrow,
be.

Pictures of Rap Songs: Biggie Smalls Dedication
Today marks the anniversary of the death of Biggie Smalls, so I thought it would only be right to dedicate an installment of “Pictures of Rap Songs” to one of the Greatest Rappers of All Time. Sing along if you know the words people. Let’s do it big for B.I.G.!

Rest in Peace B.I.G.

I hope you guys liked this special dedication installment of “Pictures of Rap Songs” and I better not see any motherfuckers biting this idea. Or else I’m gonna start doing “Pictures of Battle Rap Songs”. lmao.

Love&Respect as usual,
be.

Today, I dropped by Mankind to check out some of their services and consider getting a haircut. They’re a men’s grooming studio in Toronto that I was introduced to by my friend Bryan Brock of 1LOVETO.

When I arrived, I was greeted by Jay, who coincidentally is cousins with a friend of mine and shares a ton of mutual friends with me. I don’t ever go to salons or barbershops to get my hair cut because of my problems with panic and anxiety around people, so it was really tough for me to be there. It’s something that I’ve dealt with my whole life and I’m trying to get a handle on as I get older. So when I considered finding someone to cut my hair other than zaki ibrahim or my young cuz, Vince, I had to really do my best to find a place that would feel a little like home and would provide the type of service that made me feel comfortable.

My anxiety and panic attacks have held me back from so much more than I ever write or blog about. It’s one of the biggest demons I live with. It’s stopped me from getting jobs, made me run out on award shows and work responsibilities, and it has prevented me from doing simple things like have dinner at a family table, and obviously, leave home to get my hair cut. My struggles with it pushed me further into alcoholism and was the reason I would get drunk while I was at work for years. I realize that this can’t continue, and so today I tried to take a step in a better direction to beat this thing; a better direction that mainly deters me from getting back on pills which I used to abuse regularly.

I know it doesn’t sound like much, but being able to get passed today was a huge accomplishment in my life. I don’t really blog about this stuff because it makes me feel crazier than I already am, but I’ve always been honest with my readers and I don’t plan on slowing that down any time soon. Hopefully more things can happen like this and I can start to feel a level of normalcy that allows me to grow to my full potential.

After my cut, I was treated to a mini-facial with a hot towel and facial toner and a paraffin hand wax. I left the shop, shipped out my online orders and came back to shoot some photos of the space to blog about it. I haven’t shot in a little while, but it was the least I could do in exchange for great service.

I want to send a big shout out to Jay and Mya at Mankind for making today’s experience way better than I imagined. I appreciate it a lot.

Be sure to check them out:

MANKIND
grooming studio for men
477 Richmond Street West
Suite 103
416.551.1113
www.mankindgrooming.com

This is their reception area. I love the wood panelling and the glass top on the desk. Very dope. There is also a cut out in the front of the desk of what appears to be a mens collar and tie. It’s a nice subtlety that must go unnoticed often, but can be appreciated when it’s seen.

Today, Jay and Mya were working, but there are a number of other stylists, barbers and staff that help make this place a great option for a wide range of men’s grooming services.

There’s a little seating area with a stocked Red Bull fridge, a PS3, flatscreen TV, magazines, a bar and a leather couch. It feels like being at your rich friends house, sitting in his basement lounge. It’s definitely a place you could end up spending a lot of time in, shooting the shit with your homies and the staff.

I got a haircut. This guy got his whole head cut off. 1 for me. 0 for the moose.

Jay was cutting another client when I came back, but was just finishing up so I wasn’t able to get any photos of him at work. But I like this shot nonetheless.

This is the seat and sink I sat at for my wash, mini-facial and paraffin hand wax. Lucky me. Or lucky seat! ZING! lol.

It looks like an outdoor overground jacuzzi for a gerbil herd, I know. But really it’s wax bath for your hands. You dip your hands up to your wrist into hot wax, remove them and then they cover them with plastic. The wax dries, then is peeled away and you’re left with super soft hands for caressing your wife, or slapping your kids. I’m kidding. You shouldn’t caress your wife with your newly waxed hands. I’M KIDDING!

It was kind of strange, but felt amazing. Highly recommended.

This is Mya. She was responsible for giving me the mini-facial and paraffin hand wax. Jay tells me she’s going to be very famous and has a maniacal plan to make it happen. We’ll see how this story unfolds.

This is the chair that Jay cut me in. He shared a great story about it.

He found the chair in worse condition than it’s currently in, but bought it anyways with plans to rework it, weld some rickety parts and restore it to his liking. The father of a close friend of his saw Jay with the chair and said to him, “You’re gonna be really successful with this”, which humbled him since the man had a very successful business in the hair and grooming industry. Unfortunately, that was the last time he saw his friend’s father, as he has since passed away. But he honors him with a photo placed on the wall next to the mirror at that chair.

This is the father of Jay’s friend. It’s such a stand up move to have this photo in his shop. I loved this.

Shutting down.

This is me in my office with my cleaned up, Inglorious Basterds meets Asian Avenue, undercut fade, karaoke boy band hair. That’s my real face. Don’t make fun of me.

Once again, be sure to check them out:

MANKIND
grooming studio for men
477 Richmond Street West
Suite 103
416.551.1113
www.mankindgrooming.com

Love&Respect,
be.

It’s not about being better than the next man.
It’s about being the best at being your own man.

- Bryan (with a “Y”) Espiritu (with a “Spirit”).

quote me.

I’m no pro on love, but I know that sometimes our hearts aren’t whole enough to beat past a breath or bleed half a pint to make us see past our minds… and how they blur us. My visions of love may be somewhat Mariah. Maybe they’re too high, or maybe psychotic. Maybe erroneous, erogenous logic that I’m just too sensitive about. But they are my visions just as much as every schizophrenic incident had been. They’re my visions like every schizophrenic incident I’ve seen, and the fear I have of not getting to them is deserting. It’s water in the sand… too far fetched. I’d carry a pail to a hill for a Jill. And all the way back to be Jack for her thrills and fall for her. But these visions of love seem to be fairy’s tales. A pixie’s dust for a lust too tricky or misled trust run amok too thick. She must always think I regress. I must not blink too frequently as to be sure that I don’t miss anything about these visions of love and other strange things. Or maybe I should blink so much more often so I can see the darkness behind blinding yourself by ideas of true magic. I wear my heart on a sleeve that carries up it no tricks. I wear a heart that has been broken by names, bones and sticks for it believed the power of a simple poem. That “Names will never hurt me”. I believed, and was crippled when I wrote, “This love is not the air beneath my feet, but the reason I am afloat”. And it echoed in a room where nobody had ever been broken. Where had the vision of love gone that I had so fondly dreamt of and spoken? “Hello Love, we haven’t met before.”. And Love replied, “If ever we part, you will regret me more than having never just said to me, ‘Hello’, you fool”. An unstirred pot makes for poorly flavored stews. I’ve walked miles in the shoes of my expectations and have arrived at nothing but hot water and a scalded hope. I would sooner be the weight to a fallen rope than continue to search for a vision I’ve had since I were a young boy that just seems to elude. Rejoice to the news of a noose and its muse. I will loosen the tie from the bow of an unaimed cherub. He will miss with an arrow, his target too careless, and left bleeding. I will reveal whole hearted – “Love, come over here and finish what you’ve started”. I am seeing that Love is rare, so when it’s real, be there. But within it’s good lays an evil, devilish touch so tainted it would leave a masterpiece painting, easel and brush, undone. It’s been a disguise. Amongst barbie dolls and ballsy guys, I am doing all I Ken to validate having a Malibu Miss. Give her a rum and a kiss, thumb to the part where her hips and her upper thigh are joined and hope for the best. I regress, I regress. Yes, my visions, my visions. I’ve had a vision of love that had carved from a stone block, a Missis with no name who had honed, locked and aimed her passion towards the apple of my tear coated eye. A man who cries is bleeding through tears. I’ve bled this heart dry over numerous years, humorous break-ups, raised glasses and Cheers’d to being single again. Then Love again. Then searching for why my visions were unreal. It’s like I mustn’t see what I cannot feel, but I look for love like I hunt for a heart to give it back to. No returns here, only exchanges so there’s something for us both to keep. I am maimed like my “Happily Ever After” was weak and I returned from the dark but didn’t keep my receipt. It’s a shame… that if love is blind, I need not these visions. I trust that if love is blind, I need these visions even more. For if Love cannot see it, then I must. If nothing is certain, at least of this, I am sure. From a vision to something to touch. From tainted to something re:stored.

“Re:Vision to Love”
- written by Bryan Espiritu.
From a book I am currently working on entitled, “The Cynic Route”.

There’s much that I’m afraid of
But more that I’d ignore.
Engrave a grave inside a cave
The living will explore.

“You’re the reason that I’m still breathing…”

Happy 11th Birthday, baby. I’m so proud of everything that you are. Your individuality, your creativity, your humor, your joys for music and art, your honesty and compassion, are all things that I’m always shocked by and in awe of. You helped me grow healthily as much as I can only hope to contribute right back to you. I really do adore you, babe.

You’re the 1 twice over, you’re the new 11.

Love always,
dad.

I’m guilty of it. I’m sure you are too. But honestly, driving drunk is something that we all need to just stop doing altogether. This video needs to be seen by as many people as possible and taken seriously by everyone that chooses to drive while under the influence. I know it’s become routine for a lot of us, but it’s completely unfair and absolutely ignorant to put the lives of others at stake for the sake of conveniently getting somewhere.

Watch the video through to the end. With friends, family, alone. I don’t really care. Just watch it all.

Please post this link on your twitter to share it with your followers: http://bit.ly/an4gdP
I think it’s very important that this is seen. Maybe it’s my guilty conscience.

Thanks to my boy Phil for sharing this with me.

More than a month ago an interesting sequence of events put me into a position to leave me current apartment in South Etobicoke for a newer, never lived in space in Toronto’s downtown core. I had no plans to leave my spot any time soon, but I was simultaneously met with a chance to also takeover a small office space nearby. I had very little time to consider the move, and had plenty of thoughts about whether this opportunity, or an opportunity of this sort, would ever show its face again.

Knowing that I only have a single life to make something of myself, I went balls deep and decided I’d take the plunge.

This lamp used to be in my kitchen. My kitchen is where my workspace used to be in my old apartment, and is much of the reason for me either getting fat and not getting enough work done, or seeming incredibly busy and losing a ton of weight. It’s not coming with me to the office. I think it’s better suited at home.

I love Nag Champa. I always have. While going through the stress of trying to pack for home and pack for work and unpack for home and unpack for work, I burned a lot of it. It always seems to do the trick for me. Thankfully I own a couple of incense holders so there won’t be a need to struggle over what should go where.

These rolls of tape and this boxcutter have helped me a lot over the past month. I’m thinking of carrying them around all the time. Except for if I’m going to court. Or to a club. That wouldn’t be smart.

The framed print in this photo will most likely be put up in the office space with some more of my personal designs and artwork. I want it to feel like my personality is resonated within the walls. I’m not one to talk a lot about myself in person, so I’ve decided my work will be the big mouth of the bunch when people come by.

The print itself is of a design I did called, “The Jameses”. It was the first LL design I ever put out on a shirt and it sold tremendously well for me. My homey who printed it thought it would be a nice gift to give me, and I’m so grateful that he did. His name is Markus and he’s got a company of his own called, Metsa. Check him out at www.metsadesign.com – he’s ridiculous.

I’ve always had a chemical imbalance. My Chemical Romance. I’m a Chemical Brother.

Okay, enough of that.

That money bag is from one Halloween when me and the staff at LiveStock dressed up as the dude from Dead Presidents. We had guns and money bags with spray cans in them. I don’t think I’ll ever throw that bag away.

My first website was called IGetRaw.com after Big Daddy Kane. That picture is of him with Madonna kissing Naomi Campbell and the sticker is by Acapulco Gold. Amazing on so many levels. Underneath the box is my Wacom tablet for my computer which has a J Dilla “Donuts” sticker. He was also amazing on so many levels.

Orders and orders, and invoices and invoices. Why do I keep them in a ziploc bag? I don’t know. lol.

De-lish.

Nothing says, “I’m blowing this popstand” like an unplugged microwave and an unfinished glass of protein shake.

Now kids, before there were DVD’s and before there were CD’s and before your little winker had pubes, there were these things called “Floppy Disks”. They weren’t even floppy, but that’s what they were called. It’s kind of like a rooster. They call it a “Cock”, but when you see it, you’re like, “Hey, that’s a Rooster! I want my money back!”. The disks behind this stack of floppy disks are called “Zip Disks”. Years ago, Apple used to use zip disks so users could store info from their computers in a more superior way than floppies. This was in there “Our computers look like Jolly Ranchers” stage. Then they got all minimal and the game ain’t been the same since.

This is a peak at my new work space. There’s now another chair for any of you guys who get a chance to come by and shoot the shit, there’s product out on a couple of shelves, and it’s a lot messier.

This front gate opens up and will be my minds saving grace in the summer time. The blinds were provided by the landlords, but needless to say, they’re gonna be replaced with roller blinds. The window will be getting some graphics and yes, the cardboard boxes will be gone.

This is the large wall at the entrance of the office. I plan on defacing it with my artwork, printed at large sizes, and sell them once I decide to change the piece. The weird guy in the mirror is me.

This is the front door that I hope to never have to throw any of you guys out of in “Jazzy Jaff vs. Uncle Phil” fashion. The stickers are coming down, and it too might get a window graphic.

All those boxes were filled with Ideall Tees. Or most of them at least. They’ve since been minimized thanks to the All Out Sale I’m currently having. The small frame of my Polar Ice design was from an art show I was a part of for ManifesTO and was also on display at Lounge on John St. (R.I.P.). I plan on putting it up with other framed work of mine.

These little bastards save my sanity. Organized confusion. Stress. And so on. It’s business as usual.. and I’m still working.

Hope to hear from you guys and gals soon.
Love&Respect as usual,
be.

(Minus the R.Kelly ad libs, this is the shit…)

At Your Best (You Are Love)
Aaliyah (R.I.P.)

When I feel what I feel
Sometimes it’s hard to tell you so.
You may not be in the mood to learn
What you think you know.

There are times when I find
You want to keep yourself from me.
When I don’t have the strength
I’m just a mirror of what I see.

But at your best you are love.
You’re a positive motivating force within my life.
Should you ever feel the need to wonder why,
Let me know, let me know…

When you feel what you feel
How hard for me to understand.
Oh so many things have taken place
Before this love affair began.

But if you feel like I feel
Confusion can give way to doubt.
For there are times when I fall short of what I say,
What I say I’m all about.

At your best you are love.
You’re a positive motivating force within my life.
Should you ever feel the need to wonder why,
Let me know, let me know, let me know…

If you’re wondering,
You gotta let me know, baby.
Gotta let me know.
You don’t have to worry.

If you’re wondering,
You gotta let me know, baby.
Gotta let me know.
You don’t have to worry.

Let me know.
You don’t have to worry.