Erin Nord in her front yard in Cleveland, Ohio.
Posts tagged cleveland.
Happy Birthday to Erin: a totally excellent sister, poor (but oblivious) singer and frightening ax-wielder
Happy Dog’s in Cleveland has a “Polka Happy Hour” every friday night where a man in a fake beard plays old Polka records really loud until it all devolves into him running around on the bar playing an accordion and singing German drinking songs. It is a near perfect bar experience.
My Mom and I shoot some new work for the boys over at Armstrong and Wilson to highlight their line of pocket squares. If you have not heard of these guys they are putting out some of the best squares out there and you would be remiss to ignore them. Outtakes here and here.
The Westside Market, Cleveland, OH.
One hundred year old neoclassical brick is likely responsible for the West Side Market’s municipal look. Opening the doors, I expect stairs leading down to a subway platform, a bared ticketing booth, or a wooden bench darkened with use and covered with the carved expletives of disgruntled citizens, but instead there is another set of doors.
The space inside is massive, and the vaulted ceilings serve as a sort of tilt-shift lens, turning the crowds of shoppers milling around the booths into miniatures. Each booth offers a different discovery. First I bend down to get a closer look at the pig behind the butcher’s glass, before asking an old italian man for a pound of uncured bacon. The cheese is arranged in piles across the aisle, but I get side tracked by filled-to-order cannolis. I swim through half focused crowds to get a better look at the characters behind the counters and the strange stock they sell in every tiled corner. The West Side Market is not the best place to do a bit of quick grocery shopping. You won’t find the cereal you eat for breakfast here, or the ice cream you eat for dessert, but I came shopping for experience, and bought at every booth.
Words by Dylan Nord, Images by James Nord
Things Dylan ate whilst in Cleveland:
I met Dan at an auto repair store in a bedraggled section of Downtown Cleveland and he told me he had been turning wrenches and throwing sparks for almost 30 years now. The beautiful torch he was using was from World War II and when I asked why he didn’t get a new one he just shrugged, thew his masked down and said, “If it ain’t broke, dont fix it”.
Turns out you can’t climb a fence in a skinny suit and double monks, so save yourselves the trouble. Internet, I do these things so you don’t have to. shot by mom
Step 1: Eat Thanksgiving dinner.
Step 2: Never get off your bike.