Art Attack

The other day, I was waiting for the elevator and, as usual, I went to peer into NeighborGoodies Central (with camera in hand, of course) to see if anything was on the Big Blue Table. As I was doing so, one of my fellow residents was on his way out of the laundry room. I froze in my tracks--I didn't realize anyone else was around, and I don't want anyone in the building knowing about this little project, out of fear that it would compromise the integrity of The NeighborGoodies.

Luckily, all the neighbors slyly check out the Table while waiting for the elevators and he assumed I was doing the same. He reported, "There's no free stuff on the table today." He seemed genuinely bummed out, and I shared his misery. I've seen him around the building before: He's an adorably tiny, friendly guy, probably in his mid-20's with cool hair and lots of piercings.

He's pretty chatty usually and this time he revealed that he's an artist... and that he likes to remove the items from the Table in order to create art projects out of them. Obviously, I was shocked. The fact that the garbage on the Big, Blue Table has inspired another form of creativity made me feel an instant bond. He began to tell me about how he picked up something a few weeks ago, painted over it to make a blank canvas--and now he's got a fresh piece of art hanging in his Luxurious Hollywood Hills Apartment. I immediately knew he was talking about this item.

I was thisclose to not only falling madly in love with him, but also to violating the Golden Rule of Anonymity for this blog by sharing its link with him. I knew I could trust my fellow artist. I wanted him to know he wasn't alone in his passion for the NeighborGoodies. Heck, I wanted him to know that there was a name for the NeighborGoodies. I was about to ask him if he puts any of his artwork on the internet, as I think it'd be cool to see what he's doing with the objects you read about here. However, before I could, the elevator door opened, and inside there were Other, Non-Artsy folks. The People Who Wouldn't Understand. As we stepped in and the doors closed, our conversation ceased, oppressed by the non-creative thinkers.

He wished me a good day as he got off on his floor and I immediately knew how Spiderman felt. With great power comes great responsibility--and I have a responsibility to you, the reader, to make sure the NeighborGoodies continue with no outside influences. And so, for now, Artsy Guy can not know about NeighborGoodies. Unless I'm drunk in the elevator one day when he comes in.

Today on the Table, our little friend has lots of items to play with. First up:

We have here a set of five Crayola glitter markers, perfect for our Artsy Guy to fancy-up any of his works-in-progress... or to use on these:

This pair of stained sofa pillows could go from "blah"to "hoorah!" with just a touch of glitter pen magic!

And, though I'm no artist, I bet he could also make use out of these half-empty tubes of skin cream:


And finally, he could take photos of his newest creations and place them in this stylish high heel picture holder:

Hopefully he will do so, and leave the images on the NeighborGoodies table for all the world to see. If not... I'll just have to sneak into his apartment and take my own pictures of the art (and only the art. Honest.)

Can anyone train me to break & enter?

Artistic Integrity

To the untrained eye, this might seem like just a normal piece of trash:

But as I stared at this seemingly useless and busted-ass paper towel holder, I began to wonder, as I often do, why anyone wouldn't just throw this thing away. It takes a lot more effort to drag this thing out of your Luxurious Apartment and bring it downstairs into the Laundry Room than simply tossing it into your trash can.

When I looked slightly to the right, however, I had my answer. It's not trash: It's art!

Specifically, it's an artistic project from a graduate of the Savannah College of Art and Design. Using a series of sophisticated machinery...

...and art supplies...
...some NeighborGooder created a masterpiece!


I certainly hope this teaches you rubes a lesson in art.

. . .And All I Got Was This Lousy. . .

There's nothing worse than going on a trip and remembering that you need to bring back a gift for someone. It always puts undue pressure on everyone involved because no matter what you get, it's going to be lame--especially if you're like me and you wait until you're at the airport to purchase your merchandise. It's equally bad for the giftee as well, who now needs to pretend that he or she likes what you've given them, even though it is clearly lame.

I imagine that one of the NeighborGooders went to Vegas for his bachelor party, drank his face off and, as his booze-filled near-corpse was being dragged through the airport to come back, he managed to sober up enough to realize that if he didn't buy something for his fiancé, he would likely be killed upon his return. He was not, however, in any state to pick something of quality out, for only a person in a drunken haze at an airport gift shop would choose this:

Yes, that's a canary yellow t-shirt with a cartoon slot machine and the phrase "STRIKE IT RICH" emblazoned on it. STRIKE IT RICH-- No period, exclamation point or emotion involved whatsoever.

What occurred next was undoubtedly the biggest fight of their young lives as a couple, followed immediately by him going out to purchase a sweet, tender, sensitive "Forgive Me" item... which also ended up on the table:

...along with the supplies they were going to use to decorate their first Luxurious Home together (in the Hollywood Hills!):

This unloved stuffed animal and these unused paintbrushes & rollers are all that's left of a relationship gone sour; a blank canvas that was marred with canary-yellow annoyance... an annoyance usually saved for a forgotten anniversary or a midlife crisis.

And that's why airport gift shops should be outlawed. The end.