Prayers Wanted.

Yesterday was my little brother's stem cell transplant.
We like to call it his new birthday.

I'd be lying if I said that I'm being a complete rock.
My head is definitely swimming in a sea of emotions.
And to tell you the truth, I'm not even sure what to think.

All I know, is that we are blessed.
That every day and every breath is something to cherish.

And now that my family has nothing left to do but wait,
I ask the lord for mercy.
I ask for kindness.
I ask for prayers.

Say what you want about stem cells.
Although I may snap at you if you're one of those whiny, scared,
conservative-ass individuals who think that stem cell research is
fundamentally wrong.
I understand that ignorance may be bliss,
But ignorance is also ignorance.
And if one is ignorant, he/she shouldn't be allowed to talk so passionately
of things they have no knowledge about.
Don't worry, I'll get off my soap box soon.

Say what you want about God.
I believe that there is a God.
People may call it something different, like Allah, etc.
But to me, it's all the same God.
The nickname one uses is just semantics.


Say what you want about miracles.
But, I am related to one.
Read his BLOG, and try to prove me otherwise.

Foggy Day at Monticello

I had the privilege to venture an hour and change south to Charlottesville, in particular, Monticello, aka Thomas Jefferson's ol' crib. Mostly thanks to a Culture Class assignment. We reached the fog-drenched colonial mansion not really knowing what to expect. Well, aside from armies of gray hair that is.


Surprisingly, we were far from disappointed with the tour of Jefferson's lil' mountain. The tour, great. The gardens, great. The things I learned, great.


One thing I was disappointed with was the curator, along with the Thomas Jefferson Foundation still struggling with the fact that Thomas Jefferson could have possibly fathered the children of his slave, Sally Hemmings.


Now don't get me wrong, I could care less whether he did or not. But the fact that a credible historical society thinks that it might tarnish his name even after DNA tests proved it bothered me. But it did remind me of something I heard once. Draw your own conclusions.

"It's historical.
People like they historical shit in a certain way.
They like it to unfold the way they folded it up.
Neatly. Like a book.
Not raggedy.
And bloody.
And screamin'."
- Suzan-Lori Parks

Sometimes it's the little things

This time last year, I was so deep in it.
All I wanted was to be good at advertising.
And I worked like my life depended on it.
What came from it was a bruised ego, bad health and a cynical attitude.
This year, I vow it to be different.


Like today, for example.
I just enjoyed the privilege to read a book to my friend Jay's little girl, Gwen.
Not only was she cute and curious, but hilarious.
I think she liked the book I got her, too.

DJ's and drummers can be friends. Promise.

First and foremost, thanks for everyone's kind words and prayers. Please keep tabs on my little bro's journey at his blog. We can't fight cancer alone.

I've been on a bit of a mixtape kick as of late. The newest one keeps me from sleeping. All I can do is groove. Thus, I must share it with ya'll. I'd be a bad friend if I didn't.

The mixtape, "Fix Your Face," is a bomb jam session from Blink 182's tattooed drummer savant, Travis Barker, and under-rated DJ and Nicole Richie's heartthrob, DJ Am. All I have to say is, Damn. See for yourself. Download it for FREE here.

DJ AM aka Adam Goldstein and Travis Barker
2008 MTV Video Music Awards - Press room
Los Angeles, California - 07.09.08
Credit: Jody Cortes / WENN

Much respect. Pz.

How else should one spend a Friday night in Richmond

This past friday marked a milestone for me.

Along with my cohorts from Kelly O'Keefe's Cultural Exploration class, we ventured 20 minutes south from the familiar confines of rugged downtown Richmond. After barreling through the toll booth gauntlet of the Powhite Expressway, we made our way to a amplly-lit clearing in the woods, middle of no where, VA.

Upon arrival, we were welcomed by the smells of tread-marks, sweat and global warming that only a Friday night in the South can deliver. Unlike the rare venture or two to the drag races and demolition derbies of my high school days, this was different. This was the Southside Speed way.

I expected the same blandness that comes with drag races or demo derbies, but was pleasantly surprised. I actually had fun. I know, sounds crazy. But this equivalent of minor league NASCAR earned my respect. I was taken back by how talented the drivers were. And how much fun the crowd was while watching their friends, family or compatriots master 15 second laps along with 29 other cars on a track that was made for six.

All in all, you can't really go wrong with a few brews and a few good friends watching the tamer version of those oh so fun COPS the TV show high-speed chases, can you?

Where did Kris go?

That’s a great question. And a long, complicated answer. But I’m gonna try my best to sum it up as short as possible.

1) Went to intern at DDB Chicago this summer. Had a great time. Met a lot of great people, people I can’t thank enough for everything. A special thanks to Jaime Zazove, Nick West Maciag, Nikki Konkac, Kate Tarnowski, Nate De Leon, Emily Shepard, Lisa Koening, Jane Ackerson, my girlfriend Sarah and all the Brandcenter crew who were up in Chicago this summer.

2) 3 days before the end of the internship, we found out the worst possible news—that my little brother, Darren, a cancer survivor, had a relapse. That his cancer was back.

3) Moved back to Richmond to finish my second year of the VCU Brandcenter. A twist is that Sarah got in as a first year art director. It’s going to be fun watching her grow in the program.

4) My little brother, on top of his current condition, caught pneumonia.

5) Now, found out last night that his right lung collapsed.

Now you’re caught up.


All I can do is ask for your prayers for my lil’ bro. And please keep in touch with him on his blog as he journeys through this second bout with cancer.

God bless, ya’ll.

This is for my Auntie

I’ve ignored my blog most of this summer.
Not from a lack of wanting to.
But from a lack of time.
I’ve been busy immersing myself in Chicago
With love.

I’ve spent time with old friends.
And with new friends.
And my girlfriend,
whom has lived 1100 miles away for the last 9 months of school.

I’ve immersed myself in my internship at DDB.
I’ve been working late nights,
Pre-sunrise early mornings
And loved every second.
Heck, even got a decent amount of work produced.
Although, I’m hoping for more.
Call me greedy.

And to be honest,
I’ve been busy enjoying all that.
And not writing on my blog.
Mostly on purpose.

But around 4am this morning
I found out that none of the above really matters all that much.
Who cares if I love Chicago,
Or my internship?
Who cares about art exhibits,
Cool concerts
Or deep dish pizza?
Who cares about the late nights?
Summer festivals
Or hot dogs without ketchup on ‘em?
Who cares about any of that?
I sure as hell didn’t around 4am.

B/c at 4am,
I found out that my Aunt Mae died from complications.
A huge part of my life,
A huge part of who I’ve always been
And always will be
Is no longer with us.

That love/hate relationship I have with the Brandcenter
I’ve recently found holds true for advertising in general.
That is, sometimes you’re too busy to experience the world
And conversely, sometimes you’re too busy to let your world affect.
Too busy to be anything but numb.

But tonight I refuse to let this be the case.

Tonight, I’m gonna take some time.
Tonight, I’m gonna reflect.
Tonight, I’m gonna pay my respects to a lady
who always cared about unconditionally.
A lady that never judged.
Always smiled.
Always sacrificed everything she had.
And always loved.
She deserves that.

Here’s to my Aunt Mae.
I’ll love you forever lady.
And thank you for everything.