Wild Life

Riding my bike, I often pass through a field. It’s bordered by a freeway, a commercial district, homes and a wildlife sanctuary.
I see many homeless people walking into and out of this field, carrying water and bags. There must be dozens, sleeping under large bushes and between depressions in the dirt. We’ve had no rain in years, it seems, so it must be dry and sort of nice, compared to sleeping on sidewalks.
I never see any cops or raids of the field. I hope the people are safe. I’m thankful not be among them, as we all could—easily, with just a few bad circumstances.

1 Day of Art LA

Am participating in a 24 hour project with about 15 other artists for (t)here magazine. We all met last night to be interviewed and pick topics out of a hat.
I’m doing the work with a close friend I’ve been collaborating with for years. We picked “underground.”
Which caused us about four hours of panic.
We’re not exactly participants of underground culture, and does it even exist in LA, where everyone’s privacy is displayed on reality tv? Thought about digging holes to see what we could find, but we wanted to make craft as well as do something smart conceptually.
Of course, it was our choice to add difficulty—the time-based surprise plus working in partnership.
Late last night we settled on underground labor. Shot photos today, photoshopped them, drew, painted, conducted interviews… work continues… sort of fun!

Taco Crawl

A few nights ago I went to a fiesta encantada.
We met at the hostess’ house for chips, guac and margaritas. I didn’t know many, but it was a fun group.
We then walked en masse about six blocks as the sun set, passing local points of interest, such as where you can buy a mariachi outfit. This was East LA, not a neighborhood I could normally cruise by myself.
We finally arrived at a parking lot filled with food vendors running grills by generator, and had the BEST tacos, gorditas, crepes filled with cream cheese, juices, churros…
Algunos no creian que una guerra como yo podria hablar un poco de espanol...
And we then waddled back.
?Quien dice que nadie anda en LA?

LA, Cont.

That black cloud behind Disney Hall ain’t bringin rain. Temp read 108 in the car.
LA opening went well, my work stood up to the other work in the show. No sales, but didn’t expect any. I haven’t sold a painting in a LONG time.
Sweaty sigh.

Armageddon

I’m in a show this weekend up in LA. Driving into town was an incredible sight—the mountains behind Downtown were blazing. This morning the fire apparently jumped the freeway. Luckily there are no Santa Ana winds, or those expensive La Canada homes would be burnt tacos.

Downtown LA Artwalk

Thousands of people, you can barely walk on the sidewalks.
Great 2D, video, installation, sculpture.
Innovative use of empty storefronts, second floor parties.
LINES to get into some galleries.
Second Thursday of every month, between Little Tokyo and Skid Row.
Totally free.
Go before it gets too big and corporate America gets in.

Can’t Say It Better

“The bright flatness of the California landscape needs a dark, vaulted interior.”
Raymond Pettibon, 2003

Suddenly, Summer

We experienced our usual May Gray and June Gloom here in SoCal. Just when you’re ready for some heat, the weather bores. The best months of the year are January and February, when the air is startlingly clear and the rest of the country is in blizzards…
But a few days ago we awoke to blue skies, and by 10am it was HOT. Bamm, summer is here. Tourists crowd the streets wearing the most god-awful outfits, welcomed for the money they bring.
Our new reality is water rationing, which makes us realize how long and hot the summer promises to be. No running through the sprinkler or taking long showers. No watering the lawns or washing cars.
I particularly suffer at the moment, as my car air-conditioning is kaput. I drive around with all the windows down, kids complaining in the back seat.
Reminds me of when I was 23 and drove cross-country in my non-ac-ed orange GLC with one of my best friends. She was about to leave for what would turn out to be a four-year Peace Corp stint, and I was moving to DC. We made a huge arc in the dead of summer, tent camping through Yosemite and Yellowstone, the Badlands (oh, what we saw!), moving through the breweries of the Great Lakes, then down through the Bible Belt (relatives must have thought me damned forever), Kentucky where we bought shot glasses and used them, to end up in New Orleans somehow.
It was a great education for two freckled-faced young women. Driving with the windows down, drinking lemonade, adventures waiting.
Love these bloopy paintings of donuts and beer by Tracy Miller.

Master of LaLaLand

Saw Llyn Foulkes’ show last month at the Hammer Museum. I say “his” show, because the others in the “Visionary Artists of LA” group had no weight in comparison. His craft is immaculate, and his imagery unlike any other. The works covered the last 40 years, all strong. Apparently Foulkes is not widely known outside California, and that’s just WRONG. Who else can affix a dead cat to a painting that is so weird, you barely notice?
BTW, Mickey is expressing my thoughts these days exactly.

Days and Knights

So what have I been doing in these days without a computer? What else but go to a Greco-Roman battle re-enactment (I fit right in)…

Society Pictures

I’m in my new studio now, but haven’t done anything big. I’m getting used to the space with some fun little gouache paintings on paper taken from a society rag. I’m very intrigued by the relationships of people at parties, what they wear, how they hold themselves. The magazine I’m using covers “Latino” and “White” events, without much overlap, which is also fascinating.
Congrats to me, this is my 700th post.

Beautiful Rainy Weekend

I’m still getting used to my new schedule, which is crazy: five different courses at four locations. I have to look at my calendar each day to remember where I’m supposed to be.
For the first time in a while I have Saturdays off, so I can work in my “studio.” I continued on with my plaster experiments, drawing and sanding.
I also went skating in the rain, which was lovely, and walked in our big park. Everything is turning green.
The only sad thing is how many businesses are vacant, in both ritzy and poorer neighborhoods. The tourists are almost non-existent. What are people doing? Staying home and watching tv? Twittering and Facebooking? Self medicating? Where is everyone?

Developments

2009 is already perking along nicely, although I spent the entire day in meetings in which “educational experts” told us how to be better teachers in a most mind-numbing way.
Someone else didn’t like the red penis, either.

Twilight, 2008

These days between Christmas and New Years are a sort of No Woman’s Land. Nothing happens, only too much family, eating, and sleeping. The weather has been typical for Socal Winter: bright sunlight, clear air, and cold (for here—come on, you know we’re wimps).
I’m nostalgic for Christmases Past, when my grandparents were alive. My grandfather was the most generous person I’ve ever met, bar one, and he delighted in extravagant presents. He had four daughters, and would buy my aunts and mom fur-lined coats one year, pearls another. We ate prime rib and drank homemade eggnog.
Now we’re so casual, sandwiches and cheap wine. The presents were few this year, except of course for Santa, he came through with shining colors. As did our football team...
I don’t want my kids to suffer this resession. I want them to be nostalgic about their childhood holidays, just as I am.
And how was your holiday?

Tagged

This double gift was sprayed on a friend’s garage, on the house next door, and on the house across the street. Two guys, probably, declaiming their territory, like dogs. Real subtle. My friend called and told the landlady (90 years old and ill) the problem, but she hasn’t yet provided the paint (again) to cover this new artwork. Not exactly little-old-lady content, anyway.
My students are totally influenced by graffiti. And I can appreciate good street art. But really, this is so rude.

Just Say No

It was Red Ribbon Week at my kids’ school recently. I don’t know when or how the tradition started, but it’s a week of dressing crazy (pj’s to school, etc.), making posters, attending assemblies, and tying ribbons in the trees, all to promote drug awareness, or should I say anti-drug awareness.
Don’t have a clue if it works. It’s sort of weird to hear your child’s teacher say, “Did you sign the ‘No to Bad Drugs’ promise?” asking kids who can’t read yet, and probably don’t even understand the concept of drugs. But maybe they do. And when they sign, they get candy. Go figure.
On to Halloween.

Car Talk

Today in I paid $2.99 per gallon for gas. Shocking—only a few months ago it was close to $5. Cynical me, I wonder if the oil companies are giving us all a break because we’re traumatized by the stock market crash—they don’t want to receive our wrath, so have lowered prices for the time being.
Hard to believe, but today I drove 100 miles, just around town on errands. Something has got to give.
Here’s a reality check for anyone who thinks their life is hard: a friend who has a disabled child now has to buy a new mini van because she needs a lift to get the growing teen and wheelchair into the car. Van: 20K. Disabled adaptations: 20K. 40K for a gas-guzzling vehicle to replace their other van that is still good, but doesn’t have an electric lift. No government assistance possible because they make over 50K/year, which as you know in SoCal ain’t that much.
Sculpture by Mark de Suvero, 1965, with a Sam Francis in the backgound. Meaty.

End of Summer Thought on Labor

The idea of labor is culturally based. I can only compare what I know (teaching in Turkey and the USA), so here goes...
Turkish teachers at all levels put in long days with an hour lunch break at noon, and several tea breaks. Most ride public transportation or private mini buses, which can add hours to their day. For housewives (house-husbands are rare), labor means heavy manual work, cleaning, cooking and washing without many of the conveniences Americans take for granted. But, Turks mix labor with socializing throughout the day. You always have time for a chat with a friend/co-worker.
American teachers and other workers separate work and play. We like to get in and get out of our work spaces. Maybe that’s one reason being a SAHP (stay at home parent) is so hard for many of us. We work hard, and we complain hard. We get satisfaction out of elaborating how difficult and exhausting our jobs are. We’re very productive, but comparatively, we don’t work as hard as most people in the world.
And give me a break, teaching is not working in the fields, or cleaning houses, or any of those really back-breaking jobs.
One other note.
I have a friend who is a lawyer. She makes almost $300 per hour. If she answers an email or phone call from a client, she bills $50 a pop. Now if each time I answered an email from a student I could charge even $5, I’d be raking in the dough. But that just shows you what we value in this society.

Yellow Boy

Have I mentioned I’m in love with SpongeBob?

iPhone

Did you try to buy one this weekend?
A friend of mine did, I dropped her off at 8:30am to stand in line with about 1000 other people at the Mac Store. The line wove through the mall out to the parking lot. Some had arrived at midnight the night before, only to be chased out by security. A guy we talked to spent a few hours at Denny’s and then returned at 4:30am for the opening at 8am. A few people paid several hundred dollars to take someone's place near the head of the line.
AT&T was totally overwhelmed, as this scene was probably played out all over the country. So is there a need out there for this phone, or was this just brilliant marketing on the part of Apple? Seemed like an awful lot of smart, hip people standing in line for hours in the hot sun to get this toy.