Outlined
1 Sep
The money man himself – Alec. Another non-statement? Remind me what the point of this is?
Also, to the left you’ll notice “Morons” – a neophytic anti-smoking campaign effort (I’m betting that’s a pretty safe conclusion to jump to).
Dragon Books
27 Aug
Dragon Books, Mulholland Drive & Beverly Glenn Blvd
The shelves of Dragon Books are captivating. Not the actual shelves of course, but its inventory, some several hundred tomes that reek of history. The petite store is filled with first editions and signed copies that date from 1860, from leather bound Shakespeare to books currently on the New York Times bestseller list, and it smells wonderful. No kindle holds a flame to this kind of olfactory experience, and this smell, this smell is heaven. It is old leather and paper and glue and carefully kept copies of my favorite Edward Gorey renditions (first editions!! signed!!). It is used tomes and out of print works and copies of books whose subject might be a bit out of date. It is standing in the middle of big ideas, heartbreaking stories and fantastic adventures.
Its a heady mix – I’m totally drunk on book lust ten minutes into browsing.
Edward Gorey, first edition, limited run
I want to leave with armloads. I want to work here on weekends. I want to sit in the heavy silence for hours and write. It is my wet dream.
Get that on a T-shirt
25 AugIf you haven’t already been introduced, meet threadless.com – the made by you threads because you voted for it, entries from artists everywhere, in a competition that gets their artwork on our bodies. Please vote for this entry, as the artist is my beautiful and talented sis, but more importantly, the piece is incredible!!
You’ve got just a week to vote, so do it fast…the clock is ticking. Voting button is below….
Stuck in the Middle of Mojave
24 AugIt’s ten o’clock at night and I’m standing too close to the shoulder of I-15 in the middle of the Mojave desert. The trucks that blow past shake the car and send a gust of warm wind in my hair, up my skirt and in my face. Dirt kicks up and I use both my hands to cover my eyes. The car we are driving just broke. The wheel came unhinged while I was driving, but I won’t know that until I get out of the car. All I heard was a clunking noise that sounded like the transmission dropping. I quickly pointed the car to the side of the road and out of the way of traffic as best I could. The bent tire left twenty feet of thick black stripes across the pavement, showing the point of impact to final resting place. I am waiting for James to finish inspecting the damage and for us to go home in the rental car we picked up four days earlier because the car whose wheel just busted also had it’s transmission go out just days earlier. This is the second trip out to Barstow. Now we will have to make a third. We’re racking up hours on the highway and exhaustion is creeping up on me.
Heat has a milking weight that sucks energy out of you, like being shrink wrapped. Nothing, with the exception of gusts of air conditioning in the nearby Starbucks can shake the desert off of you. However, I’ve decided for the moment to sit outside the car repair shop in hopes the mechanic will walk up to me in five minutes and say everything is good to go. I push my legs into the sun. They are tan. They are cooked from summer. I cannot wait till it ends.
It Ain’t NYC
20 AugSpace is a commodity in this city, and by “space” I mean a place to park your car. Since having a car is essential, parking becomes competitive and tempers are short when someone doesn’t follow the rules. Hell, tempers are short if you don’t move your car fast enough when the light turns green, if there’s no green arrow to make a left, if you aren’t moving fast enough in traffic, if there’s a pedestrian in your way, if you have to wait for more than ten seconds ANYWHERE while in the car….the list goes on and on. It would seem that spending hours in compact spaces makes people more keen on risking their lives than getting somewhere safely or exercising caution. We are a city of cars. Cars that we live in, spending a preposterous amount of time traveling even two miles across town. At the end of the day, after an hour of driving home from work, if I didn’t have a parking space at my apartment, kept expressly for myself, and for which I probably pay an extra $100 a month, there’s no telling what I would do if I had to spend another twenty minutes searching for a space only to find that my neighbor has thoughtlessly occupied several potential spaces with his vehicle. Close-to-the-door kind of spaces – because sometimes the place you park your car is two blocks away from home.
Therefore, if you decide to drunkenly park your car and thereby take up more than your fair share of space, you will be considered an asshole and may as well come out of the house with a bucket full of soapy warm water and a hand mitt in the morning, because the following will most likely be the loving gift left by your neighbors:
“Hey Jack – WTF? LEARN HOW TO PARK This AINT NYC! :(”
These pics were taken on Wednesday. I am told the person who owns this vehicle has yet to emerge.
The Fizz has Fizzled
11 AugAlec has been “appearing” all over the city. He’s a busy man, and apparently so are his cohorts. Graffiti is all over the streets, and it’s starting to feel like a great big dog park with everyone shitting in the same corners. Damn, Banksy is an original. Finding graffiti artwork used to be more hidden, a little mysterious, a bit of a treasure to find that great piece of work in the annals of the city, tucked away in Silverlake barrios. The garish marketing promos for every art show, skate shop and graffiti artist is tiring, and no longer as interesting as it once was. After all, there is no comparison to be made between Banksy to a poster artist, and little to say about artists who aren’t saying anything at all. As Emma Thompson recently said about Audrey Hepburn’s acting, it’s “twee”, the whimsy without wit.
The Blick Art garage is a popular spot, so are all the electrical boxes, any surface that already has a poster on it will definitely be covered by another within hours. The same posters, the same artists, over and over – and though Alec may be using a known icon and counted as a poser (I’ve gotten lots of comments), he doesn’t always stay on that path; his paintings and celebrity images are a different meme altogether. I wouldn’t even know they were made by Alec if he didn’t scribble his signature at the bottom of each one. So where does it go from here? You tell me.
Blick Art Parking Garage
Ok, this is actually a new place to put a stamp
NO SAINTS IN L.A. 