How does a band capture not only my attention, but also my sworn dedication for life?

As I cast my thoughts back through the years, I like to think I have made mostly dignified and informed choices relating to who gets my fan money and for what.  Thousands and thousands of my ill-gained and/or hard-earned dollars have been spent on albums, vinyl, cassingles, box sets, USB wrsitbands, DVDs, CDs, books, posters, shirts, postcards, concert tickets and yes, even branded baseball caps (I’m looking at you Rocket from the Crypt). Music entered my head and heart while money exited my bank account. But I’m not complaining as it’s an agreement borne of necessity… some of these songs have saved my life.

Take a close look at the musicians, artists and performers who have shaped my cultural landscape and you will discover a common thread. A thread of sadness. I don’t mean simply depressing subject matter but rather voices, lyrics and melodies informed by a knowing sadness. This sadness is like a private members club. Once your hand has been stamped at the door, you carry the sounds and feelings of these people in your heart forever. Aimee Mann is possibly the world champion of sadness. She effortlessly conveys to her listeners the image of a person with a life full of deep-rooted melancholy. It is about hearing the vulnerability. The fragility. The substantial sense of hopeful despair. My heart breaks every time I hear Aimee exhale “don’t you know that I could make a dream that’s barely half-awake come true”.

Tapping into this dysphoria isn’t an exclusive skill of singer/songwriters such as Mann. Rock’n’roll can pack just as must heart-wrenching dolor into a song. Take my favourite LA band Killola for example. Killola stomp and snarl and swagger with the best of them. They turn out ridiculously well-crafted guitar pop anthems. Drums, bass, guitar and vocals. Simple, yes? But then it grabs you. The voice swings wildly between heartfelt whispers and soaring rock’n’roll gymnastics. Lead singer Lisa Rieffel doesn’t need to say the exact words for you to realise she knows about the sadness. Her emotive delivery can only be the product of a person with a past behind her and a lifetime ahead to make sense of it.

When Rieffel hollers “this is how the world ends” over a rollicking backing track, it is equal parts threatening and heartbreaking. I know about pain like this and Rieffel's voice forcibly combines with the music of Johnny Dunn, Mike Ball and Dan Grody to speak on my behalf. The track Appetite from album Louder, Louder! highlights the power and vulnerability of her vocal perfectly. One moment our rock hero whispers with an almost-childlike timbre and before we have time to prepare ourselves she is growling and stuttering above and beyond the musical space. This soft/hard dynamic recalls the world-weary(ing) style of Australian rock legend Chrissy Amphlett of the Divinyls. We know there is a heart of gold in there (albeit slightly damaged) and she is going to holler until we understand why.

The magical and emotional power of Rieffel’s powerhouse vocal delivery is matched only by Killola’s determination to make it as a indie band. Having rejected the traditional (and redundant?) route of earning a fraction of a cent for each record sold, they spend their time crafting irresistible songs and inventive ways to get them to the listeners. One such event was the deal struck with headphone manufacturer Skullcandy. The company sponsored the band’s second album I am the Messer, allowing fans to download every track for free. Not a band to rest on this triumph, Killola are now planning the release of their already-recorded third album. The music video for first single Cracks in the Armor is a glorious piece of film making (below) and will certainly become an instant classic in this age of viral viewing. I just hope people pause long enough to fall in love like I have. It shouldn’t take too long.

I have blogged recently about my love affair with the food of Loving Hut in Mt Gravatt. Well hold onto your eating dresses, shirts and bibs as we go on another magical journey to the land of cruelty-free over-eating and the teachings of the Supreme Master.

Loving Hut this year decided to host a weekend of all-you-can-eat buffet sessions in honour of Fathers Day. On both Saturday and Sunday, the restaurant staged two, 3 hour-long dining experiences. I of course had a reservation weeks ago.

Josh, Caelan and I trundled over to the eatery and ate more food than is sensible. There is no way I could be expected to show restraint when faced with bolognese, lasagne, salad, deep fried spring rolls, fresh rolls, salt and pepper crumbed mushroom, curry puffs, filo pastries, fried rice, black bean stir fry, thousand island dressing, poppy seed cake, jelly, shortbread, custard tarts, fruit punch cocktails and more...

Rest assured I pushed the limits of all I can eat.

What could make me get back on the blog bike after falling off a while back? Food, of course.

I am back in Brisbane and many thousands of kilometers away from some of my favourite places to eat vegan food. Brisbane is not known for having a large selection of cruelty-free eateries. Actually, it is home to the Norman Hotel. This bar/pub advertises itself as Brisbane's Worst Vegetarian Restaurant. This slogan sits above their front door and kinda sets the tone for eating out in this town.

But in this crazy, 'nothing's shocking', mixed-up and worn out world there is still room for a few surprises. On my return to Australia, I made a special trip to the suburb of Mt Gravatt to visit a new vegan restaurant called Loving Hut with Michelle, Caelan, Steven and Josh. I was delighted with the food and can't wait to drag my chubby vegan frame back there. Anyplace 100% vegan in this carnivorous city is instantly a winner but when they serve me fries and a chocolate milkshake I am going to join their religion.

And speaking of joining their religion..... funny story. Loving Hut is run by devotees of the Supreme Master. This back story is way too long to tell here but maybe I can give you just the facts.  The Supreme Master is the leader of a spiritual movement known as the Quan Yin Method.

Taken from a Wikipedia entry on the Supreme Master, here are the main responsibilities of a follower:

- Refrain from taking the life of sentient beings. This precept requires strict adherence to a vegan or lacto-vegetarian diet. No meat, fish, poultry or eggs (fertilized or nonfertilized).
- Refrain from speaking what is not true.
- Refrain from taking what is not offered.
- Refrain from sexual misconduct.
- Refrain from the use of intoxicants. This includes avoiding all poisons of any kind, such as alcohol, drugs, tobacco, gambling, pornography and excessively violent films or literature.

I feel like some of these rules proclude me from becoming a full-time follower of the Supreme Master. But I will continue to eat only a strict vegan diet and will attempt to only speak what is true. In this vein, I would like to announce Loving Hut Mt Gravatt serves delicious food and you should hurry there at your earliest convenience. Check out the photos below of our scrumptious vegan dishes. And if you are interested in reading about a vegan cult, follow the links, meditate and be saved:

Supreme Master Wikipedia entry:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ching_Hai

Official Supreme Master site:

http://www.godsdirectcontact.org.tw/eng1/index.htm

Supreme Master Television:

http://www.suprememastertv.com/

After my 8 month, whirlwind trip around the globe, I wanted to stop and rewind.

Towards the end of 2006, Josh and I stayed in the East Village of Manhattan for 2 months. We had a cute but impossibly small 5th floor, pre-war walk up apartment on E. 13th Street. During this time I attempted to keep a journal. I meant for this diary to include detailings of experiences, sights, tastings, near-scrapings and dreams. I found the journal today and all that is fit to print are the following recollections of 2 dreams I had days apart during that sultry Manhattan.

Hold onto your Ed Hardy trucker caps and faux D&G sunglasses kids as we speed back to a time long forgotten....

Dream 1

I have been having the most bizarre dreams here in Manhattan. It's as if somehow the constant buzz, clambering and activity of the city is invading my thought processes while I am sleeping. Even in an unconscious state I can't escape the city that never sleeps.

Last night I dreamt I was watching the debut music video of Jessica Alba. She had covered The Best of my Love and was sexy but not slutty. A loose, spangly top over slinky, shiny leggings.

Dream 2

Josh and I were filming an experimental short film on an East Village street side. I had constructed an elaborate mini backdrop and was incharge of operating the camera. Josh had dressed his cock and balls as a person and was acting out a dramatic scene on our makeshift soundstage. It was very early in the morning.

Willie Nelson drifted through the early morning haze and started talking to me in an immensely calming voice. He told me not to worry about the upcoming election results in Texas. Willie informed me a Native American had visited him in a dream to announce Kinky Friedman was elected by a landslide. This news made me so happy I almost cried.

Willie gave me complimentary tickets to a benefit concert he was hosting. He drifted away.

I am safe and secure in Brisbane now but it was touch and go for a while in some rather volatile locations around the globe. For instance, I found myself situated in Los Angeles during the days surrounding the Michael Jackson funeral.

If I needed any proof that people are unbalanced, I got it during this showing of humanity's finest. News programs delved to record lows when reporting unsubstantiated rumours and gossip. C-listers were paraded on radio and TV followed with z-listers telling how they had been moved by the singer's passing. Tourists (I'll put my hand up) shuffled past the Michael Hollywood Walk of Fame star with some even placing candles, wreaths, roses and cards in the area surrounding it. And Jordan, Josh and I were compelled to visit the house in Bel Air where Michael said goodbye to all of this madness.

But nothing was as troubling as the complete blackout and disrememberance regarding Michael's inappropriate behaviour with children. This is not a blog post to accuse a person of something they were acquitted of. Rather, I wish to voice my concern at the eagerness people have to idolise a person who admitted to sleeping in a room with the children of strangers while no other adults were present. This person also gave extravagant gifts to children who were ill and vunerable in exchange for their company. And this person, when pushed, admitted he thought this behaviour was acceptable and commendable and pure.

I am confident I haven't made a clear point. I would instead prefer my readers to use the photos below as a lens through which to view the world's reaction to the death of a person who only years ago was vilified for his interactions with young people. Death certainly looks like a clean slate in this instance.

My blog posts have been short, sharp and precise lately. This is due to the fact I am living out of a suitcase and have not slept in the same location for more than a few nights in succession.

This post is no exception.

I am in LA, ready(with) to depart for Australia. It has been a fantastic 8 month long journey around the globe but I had some unfinished business before QANTAS spirited me back down under. I won a guitar, remember?

After a fun-filled few days in Vegas, Josh, Jordan and I headed to North Hollywood to meet Johnny of Killola to collect my bass guitar I secured via a Twitter competition run by the band. Johnny was awesome and friendly. The bass is cool and was even used on some of the tracks on the last CD. And I now have plans to learn how to play the bass.

Who should I style myself after? Kim Gordon? Dee Dee Ramone? Or John Taylor?

I have been hanging in LA and Vegas doing the usual.  See below for vegan pizza glory.

My Mexican adventure has come to an end. For now.

As my month-long stay in one of my favourite cities in the world came to an end, I wanted to ensure my time in Mexico City was capped in a meaningful and symbolic way. Leaving Mexico is an emotionally-charged process so saying goodbye to the city needs to be planned. I headed towards the sky.

On my last evening in Distrito Federal, my friend Julio accompanied me to Torre Latinoamericano. This skyscraper is located near the historic centre of the capital where it was constructed during 1956. It remained the tallest building in Mexico until 1984. The structure appears dated from street level and I had serious reservations about its safety, especially in light of the seismic shocks the area is known for. However, I decided if it withstood the outrageously-powerful quake of 1985 unscathed while many of its neighbours tumbled, Torre Latinoamericana could be trusted to keep me safe for half an hour in 2009.

I am so delighted I made it up there. It was a special experience to say goodbye to the city as it glowed, twinkled and hummed through the night. Goodbye Julio. Goodbye Zona Rosa. Goodbye Torre Latinoamericana. Goodbye Mexico City. Adios Mexico... hasta luego.

With my Mexico City trip fading into a happy memory while I relax nestled away in the Hollywood Hills, I want to use the next few blog posts to share some of my final moments in the mega-city.

I became obsessed. Truly. The lucha libre wrestling was one of the highlights of my time in Mexico. A few nights prior to my departure for LA, Josh and I sauntered off to Arena Mexico for what was my third night out at the wrestling. My main draw card Máximo thrilled the crowd again and I also discovered a new found appreciation for Mistico. Mistico is the darling of the current luchadores set and he is a fantastic show wrestler. If you can read between the lines you might know I actually mean he is incredibly sexy.

Marvel at my last lucha libre photos. Coo at the child dressed as a mini Mistico. Laugh at my attempt to have my photo taken with Mistico only to have him smell my armpit. Drool at Mistico as he fills his tights and mascara perfectly.

So many things to miss about Mexico City but my seat in row four and a jumbo cup of Corona are surely near the top of the list.

Going to Mexico City? One of the must-do sights on your list really should be Chapultepec Park. There is so much to do in this green space and just like Central Park in Manhattan, it is a welcome reprise from the calamity and mayhem of the surrounding city.

I won't go in to a lot of detail in this blog, rather I will focus on photos. If you want to read more about what is available, check out the Wikipedia entry by clicking here.

Get down there if you can and enjoy the children's museum (I slept on a bed of nails), the anthropology museum (wanna see a prehispanic birth?) and much more. There is a castle, a lake for paddle boats and even a spooky-looking theme park with old-school rollercoasters.

Some people lead fabulous lives. Art. Fashion. Fame. Music. Romance. Sex. Dolores Olmedo experienced all of this and more. Her staggering life is detailed beautifully in one of the most visually-arresting museums I have visited.

Olmedo was a fascinating woman from Mexico who struck up a deep relationship with famed artist Diego Rivera. Click here to read a great piece written about Dolores at the time of her death. Rivera was known to spend much time at an Acapulco home belonging to Olmedo and on his death made her the administrator of both his and Kahlo's estates. In the years following, Olmedo somewhat controversially amassed large numbers of work by both artists and her museum holds the single-largest collection of Frida Kahlo art pieces in the world.

The Dolores Olmeda museum is a stunning property consisting of several buildings nestled amongst lawns, trees and sculptures in the Xochimilco suburb of La Noria. Peacocks roam freely around the property which also acts as a refuge of sorts for the Xoloitzcuintle dog, an endangered, prehispanic, hairless breed. View photos below of the stunning grounds and my new animal friends. Unfortunately there are no photos of the artwork featured within the walls. You will just have to take me at my word when I say I was deeply moved by Frida's work. Or, you could hop a plane to Mexico City and experience it all for yourself...

This past weekend saw the 31st annual Mexico City Pride march, or Marcha del Orgullo in Spanish.

Josh and I headed out with the throngs of people estimated to be around 350,000. It was intensely huge. The crowd gathered along Paseo de la Reforma in the shadow of El Ángel de la Independencia and it was an awesome sight.  I am confident I have never seen so much rainbow in one location during my whole existence.

Once the crowd got moving, the march proceeded along Reforma for several km and eventually made its way to the main square in the historic centre of Mexico City, the Zocalo. The Zocalo is the second-largest open public square in the world and it was an amazing experience to see it filled with queer people and their friends.

This post is light on text as I am going to overload you with photos. I defy anyone to attend a Pride rally in Mexico City and not be compelled to take hundreds of photos.

On first impressions, you'd be forgiven for thinking it would be extremely difficult to follow a vegan diet in Mexico City. But once you get your bearings and stash a few Spanish words for animal products under your pleather belt, it is actually possible to overeat.

And knowing both Sol and Corona are suitable for vegans, you can drink the night away after filling up on tasty treats. Below is a selection of stores and restaurants that have helped keep me in size XL clothing throughout my time in el Distrito Federal. On your next visit to this magical city, be sure to check them out and engage in some cruelty-free consumption.

Restaurants:

Tao
Cozumel 76
Condesa
 52114641

(Sean says: as far as I can tell, this is the only truly vegan restaurant in Mexico City. The entire menu is macrobiotic and ridiculously healthy and tasty. When Josh and I first visited last year our Spanish was appalling but we spoke with the server and discovered Tao does not serve eggs, milk, cheese or honey. And the food was super cheap. I think they have rather odd hours so phone first)

There are dozens of lacto-vegetarian restaurants scattered around the city with a large number located within the Zona Rosa area. I am not going to detail them all here but you can check a decent listing out at HappyCow.net...

Stores:

Aka Kosher
Acapulco 70 PB Col. Condesa (06700)
 52121956
Kosher shop selling faux meat, non-dairy food, tofutti, and more.

(Sean says: we bought the vegan pot pies and chicken pieces  you see below at this store. We also bought Tofutti Sour Supreme which was very tasty with the vegan chorizo sourced elsewhere. Aka Kosher is closed on Saturdays for Shabbat)

Nutrisa Madero
Madero 40B, Colonia Centro Historical (at 2 blocks from main square/Metro: Zocalo)
 55100525
Part of chain of shop throughout Mexico City. Offers a full yogurt bar plus various items from soy milk, baked goods, flax seeds, supplements, to packaged foods.

(Sean says: these stores are everywhere. We mostly shopped in the Plaza de la Rosa shopping arcade in Zona Rosa. Good for picking up soy milk or a healthy snack if you are out for the day)

The Green Corner - Colonia Condesa
Mazatlan 81, Local 1-2, Colonia Condesa (06140)
 52863939
Organic market with deli.

(Sean says: a bit pricey as it is located in a more art-centered neighbourhood. But it has a lot of great vegan supplies. I even managed to procure vegan toothpaste! Green Corner also stock soda, vegan hamburgers, bread and organic fruit and vegetables)

El Yug 

Address: Puebla 326-6, Col. Roma, Mexico City

Phone: 55/5553-3872

And of course you can find a lot of vegan supplies in the local supermercados dotted throughout the city. Check out the last photo of one such purchase featuring a box of 80 vegan Oreos that set me back approximately $4 Australian.

Come to Mexico. Eat vegan. Be happy.

One of the best experiences I have had so far during my time in Mexico City was attending a Lucha Libre wrestling night. There is so much to say about this incredibly entertaining sport and I honestly am having a difficult time putting all the information together.

The night was held in Arena Mexico, a large and dated venue in downtown Mexico City that I believe has a capacity of around 16, 000. Like a lot of my knowledge relating to this city, I could be wrong. The streets outside were buzzing with vendors selling food, wrestling figurines, wrestling masks and much more. I feel I should write some background information, even if to clear my own thoughts up:

Wrestling gained popularity in Mexico during the early 1900s but it wasn't until around 1950 that it exploded with megastars such as El Santo and the Blue Demon. These masked wrestlers became folk heroes in battles of good and evil waged in arenas and venues across the country. The luchadores (wrestlers) developed their fame by appearing in numerous films. El Santo must surely be the undisputed champion of this genre as he went on to star in approximately 52 movies before his death.

Some wrestlers wear mascaras (masks) and some do not. The mascaras are seen as a symbol of pride and honor for a wrestler. It is a very serious act for one wrestler to remove the mask of another. Masks are sometimes wagered in matches meaning the defeated wrestler must reveal his/her face and state his/her true identity to the crowd. When a wrestler is de-masked, it often leads to them taking on a new persona and possibly even changing between good and evil (or reverse).

Good and evil. There are two distinct wrestler personalities. These are rudos (rude or bad guys) and técnicos (good guys who play by the rules). Of course you get wrestlers who are a mix of both but it is this dichotomy that keeps the fans coming back to the arenas decade after decade. The most famous técnico in Mexico today is Mistico (see below in video and photos - he is in a white and gold mask). Mistico wrestled last Friday night and the crowd loved him. Unfortunately Mistico was defeated and was carried from the arena on a stretcher. High drama! Very camp. Mistico fans were beside themselves with grief. One guy near me pulled his own Mistico mask off in disgust and sat the rest of the night with his head in his hands.

This leads me to the Exoticos. These wrestlers are camp entertainers who are gay or who portray gay characters. Cassandro is a gay man who has been wrestling for a few decades. He wears swimsuits, dresses and full make-up into bouts. He currently hosts a cabaret/strip show/Lucha Libre event in Los Angeles called Lucha Va Voom. But back to Mexico. The highest profile exotico on the circuit is Máximo. Máximo is a técnico the crowd adores. He has pink hair and wears a roman-style, off the shoulder skirt ensemble with either pink or gold wrestling boots. He is encouraged by the crowd with chants of 'beso, beso' (kiss, kiss) and often grabs his opponents and plants one on their lips. In a surprising twist for macho Mexico, exoticos such as Máximo are among the most celebrated and loved luchadores. They are highly skilled athletes who work the crowd into a frenzy.

Below are a few photos taken from my seat in the fifth row of Arena Mexico. A short video is included of Mistico and Ephesto making their entrance. And below are photos taken from Flickr of Máximo out of costume meeting fans. He is my latest crush. And yes, I know he isn't really gay. He is married to a female wrestler who goes by the name India Sioux. I love it! The second photo of Máximo shows Misitico in his mask. Masked wrestlers never show their true identity in public. You can even find photos of them out for dinner wearing the mask.  Now that is commitment...