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Nuit Blogched

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This past Saturday I decided to have a social life and attend Nuit Blanche. For those unaware, Nuit Blanche is a street art festival in Toronto where the city basically shuts down for a night so that high school kids can get drunk and look at art. I have never attended Nuit Blanche before, so I was going in a street art festival virgin. I decided to dress the part, collared shirt, sweater, I even wore boots-it was heterosexual.

You could not tell where the sidewalks ended and the streets began. The smell of weed, alcohol, and cigarettes filled the dirty Toronto streets like potpourri fills a smelly washroom. As expected, I felt like I was in the casting call for an indie movie about angsty young adults trying to find the meaning to their life. So many artsy couples walking around, sharing cigarettes, and explaining how they felt about the randomly placed objects by A Wei Wei (pronounced a wee wee, like a child urinating) to each other. Half of me wanted to be in that movie, the other half was thoroughly convinced most of these people were full of shit.

So I began prowling for art. The first piece I saw was a performance piece, it was called “Barfing Bus” it was a youth vomiting at the bus stop. I enjoyed the message of this piece: the Toronto transit system is puke-worthy and we the people won’t stand for it anymore.

Barfing Bus

Barfing Bus

The next piece I saw was titled “The Thigh Gap”. The piece was about the allure of “what is under the gown?” At Jewish weddings it is customary that the bride’s hymen be inspected, to make sure it is intact. To do this, her large gown must be lifted. I interpreted this piece as such. The lady had a large skirt representing the big question. She towered over us viewers like the bride towers over her groom, she has the vagina, she has the power.

The Thigh Gap

The Thigh Gap

Next I saw a man who claimed to be an Adviceologist, and he also claimed to be offering free advice. I asked him general questions about dating and relationships, “how do you get a girl to like you?” he said “all girls like you, keep doing what you’re doing” I agreed. Here was the kicker, he asked me for money! He wanted a donation, after claiming this advice was free on his sign! Fucking artists. I paid him.

Adviceologist

Adviceologist

Another piece I saw was “Blue Balls.” 4 blue balls were placed among two pink balls. This piece represented the transformation from typical testicles to blue balls. I learned that blue balls is the medical term for the pain a man feels when he is overly stimulated and not offered sexual release. This art installation spoke to me. It reminded me of my primal self, and the struggle between my id and ego. It also reminded me of an unfortunate event in grade 8- but that’s for another time.

Blue Balls

Blue Balls

The highlights of my night were the impromptu rave and the wine tasting circus. I followed the sounds of loud beats to find a rave happening in the streets.

http://instagram.com/p/fHDH53GFgy/

I then entered the #YellowTailWine(I can win $2000 for hashtagging) circus tent. There, I received plenty of wine including but not limited to merlot, Pinot Grigio, and Sauvignon Blanc. I felt like Paul Giamatti in the movie Sideways. As I sampled my wine and the wine of many strangers around me, I enjoyed the performance of a lady spinning in a suspended hula-hoop to Rihanna’s “Diamonds.”

http://instagram.com/p/fHIPocmFpL/

In the end, I learned a lot about performance and street art- especially, that I don’t understand it. It was a fun experience though and I would definitely soak it in again. Gents, this is a great date idea if you can get someone to go out with you (I got a man friend to go with me, we didn’t kiss). I have a year to find a girl to go with me for next year; you can leave your name, number, and favorite movie in the comments below to be considered.

You just got Nuit Blogched.

Pickup line of the day: I don’t need to pick my nose to find gold, I already struck gold by seeing you.

Other Art:

Tree Of Life

Tree Of Life

Dragon man

Dragon man

Sam Berns

Sam Berns