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Tiny 2Pac

tiny 2pac

This was my second Tupac project, which makes me ask myself, why Tupac? Why not, is the better question. The 19th anniversary of his death is coming up mid September. Maybe next year, for the 20th anniversary, I’ll do something amazing. For now, here is a tiny 2pac to get you through. Isn’t it adorable? If he weren’t dead, he’d probably kill me.

Beastie Boys – Sabotage

sabotage

For three days I have had “Listen all y’all it’s Sabotage” in my head. Just that one line. It’s enough to drive me mad if I were not so in love with the Beastie Boys. Thus, I made another decorative fucking pillow.

pillow

I have done one Beastie Boys project before, and it tore me up because all the way through it I could only think of poor, dead, MCA, and how it still hurts my heart that he’s gone. This project felt a bit happier, a bit more upbeat, perhaps because one cannot watch the genius Sabotage video without smiling. Wigs, fake mustaches, aviator sunglasses, thrift store neckties, high kicks, walkie talkies, chasing perps – all within the first thirty seconds.

Admittedly, there are times when I’m stitching along and I stop and think, what the hell am I doing? I specifically remember thinking this when I was stitching Coolio’s braids a while back. I mean, it’s all so absurd. But then I watch something like Sabotage, with three grown men paying their personal homage to 70s crime drama, and I think, I’m having fun, that’s what the hell I’m doing. Somehow, I hope the Beastie Boys would approve.

Coolio

coolio

 

Have you seen Coolio lately? He is still rocking a couple of the braids, despite a seriously receding hairline (some would call it “bald”). Does that make him any less legit? Hell no.

Even though Coolio hit the scene in the 80s, I did not become aware of him until the 90s, probably because I’m a poser. To make it worse, I replaced the word “cool” in my vocabulary with “coolio”. For example, “Those Timberland boots and grunge flannel you’re wearing are pretty coolio, man”. Did you do this, or am I that much of a dork?

Who cares. Everyone is a dork, and I laughed all the way through this project.

RUN DMC

RUN DMC

When I think of RUN DMC, I think of two things:

1. On 4/25/1997 at Hubbard Park in Iowa City, I saw RUN DMC perform. It was amazing. I’m pretty sure I was wearing my Adidas.

2. In March 2003, I drove from Point Pleasant Beach, NJ to Columbus, OH to visit a friend. On the way back, there was a hefty blizzard that I slogged through in my shitty little Hyundai Accent. It took me roughly 16 hours to make the trip home, and the entire way I listened to “Tricky” on repeat.

RUN DMC also reinforces Queens as my favorite borough. Ron Jeremy aside, only good things come out of Queens.

Beastie Boys

Beastie BoysAlthough I’d like for this post to be clever and lighthearted, in true Beastie Boys fashion, this project made me cry like a baby. I thought two years would be enough time for me to get over MCA. I was wrong. I cried through the sketches with my Sharpie in hand. I cried through the transfer onto the dainty yellow napkins. I cried through every goddamn stitch. I even cried ironing them for the final photo.

All of this left me wondering what exactly the Beastie Boys mean to me. I can’t link them to a specific time and place the way I usually can with something sentimental. Instead, they’ve always just kind of been there in the background. Their lyrics have always popped up in my daily conversations. Their records have always been within easy reach of my stereo. Maybe that’s it – there hasn’t been one defining moment because they have always been there, growing up with me.

Tupac and Biggie

Tupac and BiggieI thought this coastal feud tea towel set would be funny, although I realize 2pac is no laughing matter.

I remember when he died. The following conversation took place:

Friend: “Tupac was assassinated!”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Friend: “He was assassinated! In a drive-by!”

Me: “Oh. You mean he was murdered.”

Friend: “No. I mean he was assassinated. There is already talk of a conspiracy!”

Me: “Um. You might be over-thinking this…”

As for Biggie, I do not remember when he died. There must not have been an argument over semantics for him.