Luc Latulippe

hdelvalle answered your question: New avatar for 2012. I was thinking of those “Mr…

I love the color combinations, I can definitely see the pops in these! Do you do your illustrations in Illustrator?

Hi Hector. Yep, Illustrator is my weapon of choice. I’ve been drawing with it for 11-12 years now. 

New avatar for 2012. I was thinking of those “Mr Freeze” (or “Otter-Pops” or “Fla-Vor-Ice” or whatever they’re called depending where you live) from when I was a kid, mainly because it’s so damn hot here and the air conditioner is muy overworked. Whadaya think?

Florist street-kiosk. I love seeing these, as well as the wealth of hand-lettered signs all over the city. I plan on taking way more photos of those, now that I realize they’re everywhere. 

(Taken with Instagram at Plaza Las Heras)

Alfajors, but cuter :) (Taken with Instagram at Supermercado Segui)

Henry Miller had the same issues focussing on productivity in 1933 as we do today. Of course, he had the added advantage of living at a time without Facebook or Tumblr. 

I particularly like no. 7.: “…drink if you feel like it.” Oh wow! I do that!

(Thanks to my husband for finding this!)

Cuadrado de manzana y cafe con leche (Taken with Instagram at Pertutti)

High Tea, Buenos Aires style! (Taken with Instagram at Pertutti)

Dancing business-woman zone only. (Taken with Instagram at Pertutti)

Hugo Pratt and 12 issues of his famous Corto Maltés are helping me aprendir Castellano. (Taken with instagram)

“How To Feel Miserable As An Artist”

I wish I could tell you where this originated (People! SIgn your work! Even silly shit like this, cuz it’s gonna get reblogged up the hee-haw!), but even Tin Eye can’t quite nail that down. This is from my dear friend Dame Wallis’ blog. 

Parque Tres de Febrero, also known as the Bosques de Palermo (“Palermo Woods”), is a 62 acre park near our apartment here. Near this little lake is the Poets’ Garden, with busts of Jorge Luis Borges and Shakespeare. These paddle-boats are completely faded, but Instagram helped make them prettier. :)

The Bosques will be my little Stanley Park for the duration. This pond my Lost Lagoon. I need only a little dog to be my temporary Una (which, judging from the strays I’ve seen, may not be too hard to find). I’m kidding! I’m not getting attached to a cute little stray. Oh god, unless it’s wounded and dying! Then I’ll take it in and.. oh crap.. STOP IT!

(Taken with Instagram at Plaza sicilia)

Stumbled onto this today, right near where we’re staying. You can bet I’m gonna check this out soon! Sweet!

(Taken with Instagram at Museo de Artes Plásticas Eduardo Sívori)

good:

A 375-Year-Old French Bank Forgives Debts of Paris’ Poorest

The Crédit Municipal de Paris, also known as the “Mont-de-piété,” the bank of the poor, has allowed the needy to get loans against their valuables for centuries—acting as a kind of ethical pawnshop, or the original microlender. To celebrate its 375th anniversary, thousands of lucky French people had their financial obligations forgiven after the country’s oldest bank decided to simply wipe their slates clean.

Read more on GOOD→ 

(via Buenos Aires - Day 6)

Some photos of our 6th day here in Buenos Aires. We spent the day at the San Telmo market, which is so ridiculously big I can’t even begin to describe it. OK, whatever, here, I’ll try. It goes on for at least two dozen blocks, and spills into side-streets and a few huge old indoor market buildings, one of which was over 100 years old. OK, more: It’s so big King Kong would get lost in it. There. 

Our Castellano is getting a tiny bit better. I can form fairly good conversations in my head, but presented with an actual Porteño, I get completely tongue-tied and sound like an idiot. :(

I refuse to give up though, and the collection of Hugo Pratt’s “Corto Maltés” comic books (in Spanish!) + a dictionary here at the apartment will be my teachers. 

pasttensevancouver:

Bloody Sunday, Sunday 19 June 1938

A cordon of police was drawn up in front of the smashed-in store fronts keeping the crowds back. Here and there a moronic souvenir hunter dived for a scrap of broken glass or any relic that had been missed by the early morning clean-up job. The people milled solid for five blocks. There was a line of seven street cars where the service had got dislocated. They snailed along striking their gongs. The shrill of the gongs, the honking of horns and the jamming-in of gears kept up all the time as the traffic crawled along in first. It was one of those freak turn-outs. A woman leant from a car yelling and waving a red flag. No one paid any attention to her. That was the kind of thing that was in the air all over town. Hysteria. Mob hysteria. All on account of a few hundred jobless evicted from a three-weeks-old sit-down. 

I’m reading Waste Heritage, a 1939 novel by Irene Baird that begins in the aftermath of the eviction of unemployed sit-downers from the post office & art gallery in 1938. Apparently it’s Canada’s Grapes of Wrath, the best depression-era novel to come out of this country. I’m not too far into it, but so far so good. 

Source: Photo: Vancouver Daily Province via Vancouver Public Library #1289