Originally published at Gibberings. You can comment here or there.

If you happened to sit backwards on the toilet for an extended session, this is what you would see.

This one goes out to my homies.

Tags: berlin

Originally published at Gibberings. You can comment here or there.

I will be showing my Priority Mail series at the SCHOEN VON TINTEN exhibit at Cafe CK in Prenzlauer Berg.

There were approximately 85 responses to the call for artwork. The cafe’s owner, Cory Andreen, and the curator narrowed it down to this group because they all had something particularly interesting or clever about their work, especially stylistically, since their backgrounds include varying degrees of fine art, street design, and street/illustrative elements.

Some of them are almost entirely ink-oriented, and others just happen to do interesting things with the medium.

Vernissage to celebrate the show will be June 5th, 7pm- ?late? Please feel free to invite anyone and everyone. There will be a DJ, and cafe CK has some notoriously good booze (i.e. the coffee beer).

The artist lineup includes:
Sam Gieben
Stefi Haslberger
Tom Mason
Ahu Dural
Gert Jan Akerboom
Eliza Gauger
and Paul Thomas

Cafe CK
Marienburgerstr. 49
10405 Berlin
030 68834905
http://cafeck.tumblr.com/

This is my first show outside of the United States. I’d be immensely relieved if I had friends there, so make it if you can.

Click here for the full post.

Tags: artwork, berlin, sketches

Originally published at Gibberings. You can comment here or there.

The Civilian Industrial Complex, originally uploaded by vebelfetzer.

I can’t speak personally to the rest of Europe, but I can attest that
Berliners take clubbing very fucking seriously.

Berlin is a sprawling city with good solid breeding, and the grace to
never have any earthquakes. This means you wander around in a
fairytale castle courtyard the size of a United State, with cobbled
streets and luminous young women who are two feet taller that you
yelling at you the get the hell out of the bike lane. And when you
want to go party? Holy shit. Prepare for a pilgrimage into the dark
bricky warrens.

I took this shot around 1AM, after spending about an hour looking for
a club called Raw, where the Schlagstrom underground industrial party
throws down about once a month. It was way off a main street, back in
several square blocks of candy-colored train stations, warehouses, and
other bricked-up hulks just bursting with every kind of scene. We
skipped every door with visible colors or American Apparel clothing
inside, and honed in on the monochrome stoics gathered round a weenie
roast just in range of a punishing bassline. I don’t know what the
deal is with German goths and weenie roasts, but I dare you to find an
industrial event that doesn’t have toasty sausages with mustard
available right in the venue. In case it’s not clear, I think this is
awesome.

After doing a quick facial piercing spot check to make double-sure we
were in the right place, we got our wrists stamped. Then I waded into
the same goddamn crowd I’ve seen in San Francisco, Vancouver, Krefeld, Portland, Berlin,
Seattle, Toronto, Salt Lake City, Grabek, and Little Rock. All of
them smoking the same and drinking the same and smothering in the same
breathsucking fog-machine fug, so thick that visibility stopped at the
next mohawk. The immortal words of Beetlejuice’s Lydia came back to
me then: My life is a dark room. One big, dark room.

Tags: berlin, photography

Originally published at Gibberings. You can comment here or there.

Mad Cow War Pony: $.99, originally uploaded by vebelfetzer.

Untitled
Acrylic on unstretched canvas
approx. 36″ x 84″

A composite of a collaborative painting completed this afternoon in Dean’s quiet, chalk-white studio apartment in Berlin. It would, honestly, make more sense to stay here, than to go home on the 20th. I’d be cradled in the creche of legal and illegal expats from all over the world, forced to live without jobs, forced into bohemia, scrabbling for purchase, young and chic and effervescent. It’s almost irresistible, and I wonder daily about the realism of refunding a plane ticket for a deposit on one of these tall, brass-fitted, chalk-white apartments. It’s just that I left all my stuff at home. I like my stuff.

Tags: artwork, berlin, not my artwork, paintings