" There a very few things I don't like in this world. But today I need to list my Top 5.
1. I don't like LIARS. Especially the ones who thnk they are fooling u. Really...? 2. I hate drama 3. I don't like people who continue to create drama and try to grab the people around them into it. 4. I don't like people that need to give or create excuses for their lack of actions 5. I don't like people who act like they have no idea what ur talking about when you confront on it all.
I have 2 quotes for my thoughts 1. Between saying and doing many a pair of shoes is worn out. ~Italian Proverb 2. People who are brutally honest get more satisfaction out of the brutality than out of the honesty. ~Richard J. Needham"
I wish I could say I penned this above list, but I did not. I read it on a facebook page last month from a local DJ and I really feel it speaks volumes about deceptive people in general. And it totally echoes the way I feel right about now. I just thought it was a great list and it should be passed around. All I can add to it is a little time-saving motto I like to follow: "Mean what you say - and say what you mean."
..or "I'm covered in bees!" are just a couple of phrases that come to mind for me today. Some of you may recall my old myspace blog entry from waay earlier in the year when honeybees (Hmmm...or were they?) aggressively decided to build a home in the grill of our very actively-in-use car. The hive was massive and seemed as if it were built in just one afternoon. Now, you can call it too many childhood memories of 1970's killer bee flicks, but I was real skeptical about if in fact, they were in fact dreaded killer bees instead. However, that mystery was never solved. Mainly since I couldn't get an Entomologist to come out on a Holiday weekend to determine it for sure and that I had to rid our driveway of thousands of dead bees before they got tracked into the house. (Yuk) I don't know why the possibility that bees could be at it again had had not dawned on me earlier, since they seem to take up residency near to me like there's no tomorrow. And especially since over the last few weeks I had been hearing this odd but faint humming noise on the 2nd floor. Some of you may have heard me mention it over the phone in casual conversation. I'd even found a few dead yellow jackets in the hall. Today, I found this little guy on my windowsill this morning and decided to investigate further.
I guess to me the funniest thing about it all is that Sunday, quite ironically I had decided to put on Roger Corman's WASP WOMAN in the background while working. Simply, because I enjoy the comforting nostalgia of a Sunday afternoon where the sound of old horror movies fill the air. Well, today I have come to find the weirdness just keeps on coming.
Uh huh. Of course, the window is right next to my bed. Honestly, it's rather hard to explain in these macro pics just how massive these hives actually are. I wasn't getting close enough to take better scale pics, but to give you an idea, those halves are each about the size of regulation basketball or better. The shots are taken from the ground floor. No wonder the humming is audible so near to my window when the sliding glass is open. A tad bit frightening to know just a thin wire-mesh screen all that lies between me and the occupants of the hive.
Anyway, getting back to the Wasp Woman flick.. Now any given time that I have seen it, I always come away with the feeling that it's just so damn fun to watch. What's best about watching it today as an adult, is that now I know about just how scary getting older is for a woman, and added to having knowledge about the actual weirdness of Susan Cabot's real life truly makes it a horror movie. In short, (no pun intended) At 37, she had given birth to a son with dwarfism, and who was placed on human growth hormone (HGH). In 1986, he supposedly ended up murdering her, and after police arrived on scene, he blamed it on a Latino dressed as a Japanese ninja, who had attacked them both with his "ninja methods" - Seriously. Roman eventually confessed to matricide, and said he had bludgeoned his Mother to death with a weightlifting bar-bell.He was subsequently charged with murder. She's buried in Culver City, Los Angeles County, California and her plot is in Sunland Gardens, wall crypt C, space # 242. According to Wikipedia at present her grave is unmarked due to neglect. And her "sole memorial is an unreadable, withered and crumbling label that spells out less than half her name." Sad, but I don't know if that is actually true, since I tend to be iffy about citing Wiki as a good reliable source.
Here is a trailer of the 1959 Corman classic:
Damn, that's a hard-ass 23. Must have been all that "fantastic desire."
“Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.”
I read that Jack Kerouac quote and automatically, it prompted my brain to ask the following question: Does anybody actually try and do their own thing anymore in life? Artistically or spiritually speaking? You know, something that isn't supposed to fit into anyone else's plan or fulfill some other persons dream? Does anybody really do that anymore?
I can think of a handful of people, and I am fortunate to call them my close friends. But generally speaking, do people simply follow a pattern or trend and forego the obligations to themselves for happiness? So often, that they wind up devaluing them and bargaining them off for acceptance, companionship, or success? Maybe we just get complacent and tired of seeking, and thus we sell out our dreams and desires for a cheap price? What is considered a comfortable arrangement, hardly has anything to do with resembling any sort of fulfillment. Obligations to be true to our own beliefs, true to our own wants, our own desires, our own needs - our own lives, and above all our work is a little bit more difficult, but it is what defines who we are as Artists.It inspires us to continue to create great work.
So often I believe we sacrifice that which is most important to either please another person, or else tailor ourselves to appeal to a mass of people. I've come to the conclusion that we were probably perfect in the first place, and we were just trying to please the wrong audience(s) all along.
I have seen city-life and I have lived in canyons by the sea. I have been a number and regretfully, in my youth I'd been a bit of a possession once. But I've always tried to be my own person. I've played the role of Artist and Muse. I have felt the warmth of family and friends as well as peace and contentment in solitary living. I have given love and I have lost love with great success, almost effortlessly. I have travelled across this country to begin my life anew, not realizing how brave that leap was until after I'd gotten halfway across the country. Along the way, I have met both genuine and surreal people. (Sometimes a combination of both) Relocating to the West, I have tolerated fakes and endured sideways comments about my roots and origins.I have formed life-long friendships with people I would never have known had I not taken this Western path. But, I have learned valuable lessons from all of it. I've pin-pointed precise moments in my life where I'd made the wrong choice, or zigged when I should have zagged. I've felt countless new feelings emerge from recognizing old mistakes and couldn't come close to explaining half of them. I've also gotten lost sometimes because I never dared to look back. But once I did, trying to make sense of it all seemed less important than the realization that it's all fallen into place one way or another. The one undeniable truth has been that the best direction is always forward on a path.
I'm all about starting a path and cannot wait to begin the dance. I want the direction and choreography of my steps to be mine, and I don't give a damn who is watching should I mis-step during a move here or there.
December 5th Art show and sale at Junc Boutique in South Park. Junc was recently voted: "Best retail-store role model" in City Beat magazine's annual BEST OF SAN DIEGO edition last week. (See article below - click to enlarge.)
I will be showing a few pieces and hope to see you all at the gala festivities!
Woke up from a crazy dream, all feverish. Nutso. It was a super vivid one, and I jotted it down here as soon as I got out of the shower: One-time supermodel Claudia Schiffer was in it and I believe we were hob-nob buddies or something. Also a bunch of my present day friends and past acquaintances were there. The time era throughout the dream switched back and forth between the 80's, 90's and the present day - always off and on. The setting was at an Art show (in of all places and upscale salon) A group theme with various top-name Artists and it seemed to be in NYC or LA. Probably more likely LA. I am guessing this, because famous people were there all around in droves, and of course acting wrecked, wasted, and over-the-top. Plus it was loud and trendy like a disco. Total fashion plate city. Things that would normally send me screaming in retreat to a quiet outdoor setting.
Apparently I had reached some pinnacle of noteworthy fame, since I was a featured Artist there and the work seemed to be getting fair reviews from patrons and critics alike. Hard to tell though, since those types of people are always so full of bullshit opinions. If one popular in-the-know person likes your stuff, the rest are sure to follow, devoid of their actual opinion on the work. I was having cocktails with the Schiffster at this tiny little table, and we were exchanging cell phone and contact info. Even though we had the technology of cell phones, this seemed like the mid 90's to me based on how we both looked. I said goodbye to her, and then I headed back over to where my display was. You think I'd be totally stoked and happy about such a high-profile show, with such star-studded attendees, but I seemed really dissatisfied about it all. I kept eye-balling the exits, completely distracted. I think in real life, I'd feel mixed emotions about this level of fame in general too. It changes everything, and you can never go back to the way things were before it tapped you on the shoulder.
Paloma Picasso and her big black hat were there at the event, and she wore a bright red suit with gigantic shoulder pads. I recall being slightly disappointed when she spun around because I had seen the hat from the corner of my eye and hoped it was Yoko. Paloma had already viewed my pieces earlier in the opening event, and taken it upon herself to colour in the line work on a nearly blank canvas of mine. (One I had been penciling in and working on at the show during some earlier point to avoid mingling.) I just went with it when she took it away. When she returned, I was packing up my things, and I noticed it sitting in the box I was packing up. For whatever reason it wound up looking like some self-portrait she'd done of herself, in these very basic strokes and simple, but bright primary colours.
And as I held it and looked it over she said* to me: "You are going to have to do this on your own and it isn't going to be a simple thing - when you are a woman everyone always wants something from you! And you don't know about what exactly that is." (*or else it was something really close to this- I recall my response more verbatim than her statement though.) I responded by saying: "I know. So to be safe, I just give everything." and shrugged.
She patted my arm and walked away smiling, and shaking her head. There were all these upscale after-parties I was invited to, and stupid MTV was there, so it was obvious I'd done all right at the show, if I managed to get an invite to this kind of publicity event with such a big roster of names. I attended out of professionalism, and self-promotion I would imagine. But begrudgingly so, as it was clearly not my thing. And so I kept trying to break away from it all and find some quiet spot. I kept feeling throughout this dream that time was very fleeting and a big factor. Once I found a path and quiet spot to make my exit, I couldn't find any of my friends anymore. And I had to lug all of the boxes and art out myself.I wanted to slink away un-detected, but was a little reluctant about the manner of having to do it all bogged down with my gear and my paintings.Part of me wanted to leave everything there and slip out.I couldn't leave the work behind and I couldn't carry it all, but left the festivities, ungracefully bogged down like a pack-mule none-the-less though. All based on the hope it would all be safe and I should just keep moving.
Eventually, I ended up on a N.J. boardwalk (without all my stuff) on one of those little benches that look out over the Atlantic. (Ironically, a spot I've always found comforting in my waking life, ever since childhood.) It felt so nice to sit there looking over the sea, and there was a wonderful sense of peace and quiet - almost a silence - except for the sounds of the sea. The ocean waves and some gulls in the distance. I am recalling it was all so lucid that I could almost feel the sun and smell the ocean breeze in my sleep. Then almost immediately, I found I was sitting on the same bench comforting a friend of mine until we were both crying. It seemed so very real and deeply heartfelt.We were sad, relieved, and happy to be there all at once. The entire area seemed deserted, much like it actually does in desolate Wintertime down the shore, when everything on the boards is pretty much closed down for the season. And so, we were all alone. Finally. Even though I could feel the exchange of pain, it was all very cathartic and peaceful. When suddenly, I started singing this Linda Ronsatdt version of the "Tumblin' Dice" song. (..'Can't you see the deuces stay wild?'..) We were sitting on the bench laughing and singing in front of this big loud and crashing sea, and thus the dream ended on rather happy note.
Maybe it's all about hard-work paying off. Or taking chances before time decides our fate and fame for us? Who can say. Whatever..I know I'm ready.
"Sometimes it just turns out that way.." Well I have obviously been pretty absent from my blog, (sheesh, looks like no entries since Halloween!) which would indicate I've been quite busy in the real world. And indeed I have. But I just thought I'd show my face here, literally, and drop a few lines of text.
It's really strange, the things that you think of at 4 o'clock in the morning. I need a vacation - or really to be more specific - a change of scenery since I love my work and that isn't what I need the break from. I recently scrapped my original plan for a trip to the East coast in December, and am hoping to reschedule it for the Spring.
I think it will be good for my soul to return to NJ for just a short time. Kinda recharge my batteries with family and get myself back into a basic rhythm. I've been saying for years, this (SD) place is not 'home' to me, and I'm a person that fully depends on being able to reaffirm my roots whenever I am feeling this displaced.I've obviously been homesick so long now, it's become heartsick. I miss home, friends, and my family so much. I made a promise to myself long ago, that I wouldn't waste time being unhappy. But it's just hard to stay on that pleasant path while I'm living in this noisy and negative area. And even when there is a physical lull in the general noise levels outside, there are times within my house right now where there is still all this quiet tension, just the creaking of a floorboard can set me off anymore. It's starting to effect my creativity and that is NEVER a good thing. It's probably elevating my melancholy over a recent situation and also preventing me from working on things effectively and moving forward with the positive plans I've been formulating for the benefit of not only myself but my immediate important people. (Moving forward once I make a plan is something I know I can always count on myself to do when need be.) So, in the grounding department alone, I believe this NE trip will be a good thing to keep me focused. It's tentative, and it will mostly depend on checking the budget and seeing how much extra cash I can raise for it. However, even with that in the works, the question is can I make it till that long ? A pre-pre vacation would be dreamily nice before the NE trip. Because I'm not so sure I can hold out until the Spring thaw for that to happen.
If you asked me today, I'd say without hesitation that I'm not about to sit home for another week after dealing with my absolutely maddening neighbors this past weekend. (yes, the rhinoceros sex ones) Saturday, November 14th going into Sunday's wee hours during a violent and drunken 1 AM drama fest over poon, they decided to 're-decorate' the neighborhood by crashing down my adjoining fence in a domestic brawl which ended with two huge dudes rolling around and trying to kill each other in my driveway. The ghetto bird flew overhead, the cops came, people were hand-cuffed and any with outstanding warrants were arrested. Rinse, repeat. It's really a much longer story than all that, but that's the gist. And the pics of the remaining damages (taken after clean up) should also help to illustrate things.
Yeah, I've totally gotta move and it's clear I am paying way too much to live here.I'm thinking of heading someplace else soon just to have some fun, kick back, and contemplate with a clear head just where I am going to move permanently.The world is pretty much my oyster the way I see it, and I'm hoping for one with a pearl inside. I'd like to make that happen and then take my NE trip later in the new year. Clearly, in a dual effort to raise a little cash and also lighten the burdening load of possessions for relocation ease, I'll be selling and posting some items online this month. I've already made arrangements for some of the bigger furniture items to go to CA friends.
Anyway, this whole 'move-thing' has been something that's been hovering on my mind for some time now. (LA?) And I don't really know why I was contemplating taking action on it, or making my mind up about it at 4am, but that's how it ended up happening. Bringing me right up to speed at 7:45 AM Monday Morning, while a jack-hammer pervades my ears, and the other neighbor's family dog works out his separation anxiety issues with some serious howling. Yeah, it's high time to move. Load up the truck and head to Beverleee..as the song goes..eesh. Scary to think but that may actually be quieter and cheaper than San Diego.
I know despite this possibilty, and the current state of things, in the end, that it's more about me just doing what's best.And by this, I mean not only visiting home but following through with something I have wanted to do for myself for some time now. Get home.Sometimes selfish is a good first step. This includes me finally appeasing this yearning for a reconnection with home, something I had longed for even when things were fine in this self-proclaimed palm tree paradise.
Sorry I have been so lax on the posts and updates lately .I've been really busy with artwork projects, and well that crazy little thing called life. Here are some shots from a group pool of the Gaslamp district and then some more shots from the always happening and fun Asian Bistro I snapped on on Halloween night. I liked the pink Rosie the Riveters all guy division, but sadly I have no idea if that was what they were aiming for or not. It's just the way my mind saw it.
Whole Lotta Rosies?
Beaker..
I didn't wear a costume, but I pretty much think the other 364 days I do should count for something, haha. I hadn't actually planned on even going out after some of my previous Halloween plans fell through. And instead I enjoyed spending a good part of the night chatting with one of my close pals on the phone. So, in the last minute when Matt and I decided to head out, I just pulled together a vintage outfit from my closet. Along with some brown vintage zodiac boots, a velvet bustier and choker I made out of a deconstructed old Bill Blass Designer gown.A vintage gown style I believe they tried to do a re-vamp of in 2007. The entire ensemble was however in fall colours and my jacket was from the early 70's which was very fitting for an October evening out on the town. I guess if anyone asked me what I was dressed up as I'd have to say, 1974.
Below:The vintage neon dragon marquee of the Asian Bistro and the ever effervescent Patti, my favourite restaurant owner/hostess/Proprietress extraordinare in all of San Diego. She was so busy I hardly had a chance to snap this, and she literally spun around and was caught in this shot by my flash. It was funny to see her choice of dress was a witch, and I told her she was undoubtedly a good witch. All of her waiters and waitresses were dressed up too: Mickey Mouse, a Luau Zombi, and even the bus people were dressed up. She is just a fun-loving gal that way and I know her employees totally adore her free-spirit.
Sailor and a Pink Pimp. Seriously, the most rhythmical-y challenged Prince ever.
And this couple had my favourite outfit of the evening! As soon as I saw them enter the room and pass by my dinner table I wanted to ask to take a picture of them. However, I had waited until after the meal to approach them to politely ask so it shows "Fu" sans the Manchu in this shot. (It had been a bit cumbersome during the meal I was told, and it was removed along with the face make up.) So this was pretty much the end of the night for the span of their outfits and they still looked great. I had first noticed them outside waiting for a table. (Patti's place was jammed that night!) They really kept in character and during their wait and conversations with other patrons out front of the Bistro, I noted that the Geisha fanned her face, hiding her mouth slightly when she spoke or smiled. So demure! And Fu Manchu kept fondling the beard and raising the painted brows in a very contemplative manner.I thought that was just perfect to go along with the outfit. I feel badly I didn't catch their names either.
