Excerpt from Raised by wolves by Jim Goldberg; a document to the teenage wasteland of late 80s California.

QUIT MAD STOP

Dreaming of a summer from the fog of Telegraph hill. Love these photos of new surf wear line Quit Mad Stop. Showing this week in NYC Men’s market for all you shop keeps.

A few good things remain on the east coast, I guess. Thanks to Doria for sending this my way. She styled this beautiful little daydream of a video featuring pro surfer Tyler Rockitt Atkins and pretty boy Morgan Collett of Saturdays.

Just finished up my latest project at Levi’s. It had me burning the midnight oil for a few weeks hence the gap here at OTP. New Bohemia Signs painted both the Tailor shop sign and the glass display when you walk in the Union Square store. Their work is all done by hand -true craftsmanship. Sign painters always remind me of the father in Badlands. Anyway, the great guys that run New Bohemia were nice enough to let me snap some pictures of their workshop, a small room off 11th St in Soma.

Jack Pierson’s new show of folded photographs opens tomorrow at Bortolami Gallery, NYC.

One of those head turning “did I really just see that” speeding by on the road moments. Some dude build sculpture and shelter out of junk and cement for the coming apocalypse. When arson came in the early 80s he moved on. Here’s what remains of Thunder Mountain, Nevada…

Once, I dreamt I was in Alabama with Mordechai Rubinstein and Michael Williams to hang out with Billy Reid. He threw music shows for us all weekend and fed us a steady diet of cornbread, sour balls and moonshine. We stayed in a lake house and rode jet skis and  he introduced me to his friend Butch Anthony who sold me some of his art and showed me his special project that looked like Louise Nevelson. It got really weird when we were brought to FAME recording studio to meet the legendary Rick Hall and Sassy boy of the year Ian Svenonious showed up in a three piece suit. Oh and at one point I trashed the Governors Suite at the local hotel.  Such a strange dream…

I was lucky enough to squeeze in a tour of this epic record pressing plant in Nashville just before my flight back to San Franskippie last week. I had no idea of the process, the amount of hands on work, the heavy machinery – none of which has been manufactured new since the 80s. Truly a beautiful factory, untouched by time. Even the old living quarters remain unchanged, originally set up so black recording artists could stay there in a time when they couldn’t get a room in the South. The best was watching the a hockey puck-sized disc with a label already on it be squished into a 12” memory maker. Jay, thanks so much for the tour.

NORTHERN CALIFORNIA