Prop 8: WTF?

I’m glad and proud about America voting in our first black president. It’s about fucking time. I am happy about it, etc etc. But I am NOT happy with California who voted yes on Prop 8. In fact, I don’t know why this was even on the ballot in the first place! How the hell did it get on there? You can’t have the majority of morons voting against a minority! If the people were allowed to vote on African Americans’ rights, that would not have been fair since we are talking about making way for the rights of the minority of people regardless of the majority disagreeing. I am just very upset and angry about the outcome of this proposition, I can’t even put it into proper words. .

..And the whole angle on what it’s going to do to “the children” and “families” was such utter bullshit. Gay people being married doesn’t do anything to your families or your precious children. You can still go on trying to tell your kids it’s a terrible sin if that’s what you chose to do. You can’t deny that there are gay people in this world. There always was and always will be whether you religious nuts like it or not! It’s not other people’s choice to make! Especially about a personal relationship that is not your own and that makes you uncomfortable. So stay out of it! Yet, you want to stick your big fat schnoz into other people’s families. Gay families have absolutely no bearing or threat to your twisted teachings in your own family. For the people that voted yes on 8, it is a religious issue and this should have NOTHING to do with LAW or Civil Rights of our citizens. Fuck fuck fuck you, you self-righteous hillbillies!

How this proposition can reverse a law that was given as a right to a minority group, is still beyond me. How can a religious view become a law????? Can you say UNCONSTITUTIONAL?!

My Top 99 Favorite Movies

…just because.

51 Birch Street
7 Up Documentaries
Airplane
Akira Kurosawa’s Dreams
All About my Mother
Amalie
American Splendor
An Angel at My Table
Annie Hall
The Apartment
As Good as it Gets
Barfly
Being There
Betty Blue
Blazing Saddles
Blue Velvet
The Bobo
Born Into Brothels
Broadway Danny Rose
Chuck and Buck
Cinema Paradiso
Clock Watchers
A Clockwork Orange
Danielson Family Movie
The Deer Hunter
Defending Your Life
Detour
The Devil and Daniel Johnson
Dial M for Murder
Dr. Strangelove
Edward Scissorhands
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Fargo
Frances
Frida
Fur
Garden State
Goodfellas
Gray Gardens
Hannah and her Sisters
Happiness
Harold & Maude
How to Draw a Bunny
I heart Huckabees
The Ice storm
In the Realms of the Unreal
Juno
Kill Bill
Killer of Sheep
L’iceberg
L.A. Story
Lolita
Lost in America
Léon (a.k.a. The Professional)
Magnolia
Manhattan
Me and You and Everyone we Know
Modern Romance
Mr Death
Nikita (a.k.a. Le Femme Nikita)
North by Northwest
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
The Party
Personal Velocity
Pi
Postcards from the Edge
Price of Milk
Rabbit-proof Fence
Radio Flyer
Raise the Red Lantern
Rear Window
Rope
Ruby in Paradise
Run Lola Run
Secretary
Short Cuts
Siesta
Smart People
Snow cake
Stardust Memories
The Squid and the Whale
Sweet Land
Swoon
Tarnation
Things Behind the Sun
This is Spinal Tap
Thin Blue Line
Thumbsucker
Topaz
Trains, Planes, and Automobiles
Vertigo
Volver
Waitress
Welcome to the Dollhouse
What’s up Doc?
Where’s Papa
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
Year of the Dog
You’re Gonna Miss Me

SAVE THE DATE!

October 11, 2008 5-8 PM

Please join me for my solo show:

Carol Es
She Dreamed She Remembered

October 7 – November 15, 2008

Reception for the Artist:
Saturday, October 11th 5-8 PM

George Billis Gallery LA
2716 S. La Cienega Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90034

tel: (310) 838-3685

She dreams she is free, yet, connected. And she remembers she can do whatever she wants – because art has no rules.

Life is lived in a parallel facsimile – where her affections for everything that is alive (both here and non-existent) is as true as time is a lie, and reality, a concept.

The girl the artist calls “Moppet” appears in both canvases and panels in various ways: crawling out of black holes, flying between them, and hanging on to familiar behaviors. Some are just Moppet heads floating about – observing memories, dreams and thoughts.

Carol Es is a native Los Angelina and self-taught painter whose work intimately explores her Jewish Identity and the tribulations of childhood trauma. Her new works are witty psychological portraits and pieces such as “Arctic Memory” mark her past, while serving as a release. She uses language, both Hebrew and English to denote her message as well as embroidering directly onto the canvas adding a distinct 3-D dimensionality to the painting. The string acts like a literal thread running through her life’s memories and tying them all together. These artworks embody multiple transitions in her art making, along with humor, pain, angst and reverie.

Es’ works are featured in numerous private and public collections including the Getty Museum, Museum of Modern Art in New York, Brooklyn Museum, UCLA Special Collections, the Jaffe Collection, National Museum of Women in the Arts, and Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris. She has exhibited at Riverside Art Museum, Torrance Art Museum, Craft & Folk Art Museum, and Zimmer Children’s Museum. She is also a two-time recipient of The ARC Grant from the Durfee Foundation and a grant from the Artists’ Fellowship in New York.

Image: Arctic Memory, 2008.
40 x 60 inches, Oil, paper patterns, pencil, thread, embroidery on canvas.

Dad: May 31, 1927 – August 24, 2008

Maybe some of you are wondering where I’ve been, while some of you know about my father passing away a few weeks ago. So I’ve got nothing interesting, art-related, funny, compelling, or exciting to say on the blog right now. I can say, however, that my life has changed almost completely now that I have to take care of my mom (for the most part) and the fact that my brother and I were able to spend some intense time together with my dad in the weeks leading up to his death. We mended many wounds and bridges and I just feel lucky/blessed to have received that time, as most people are not so lucky. I know how lucky I am to be able to say goodbye and repair our conflicts and pain. Perhaps that kind of pain is easier to bear than the pain I’m feeling right now, but I would not trade fixing our differences for the world. That is all for now. Thanks for reading.

Tattoo You

Today I went in for a consultation with Zulu Tattoo artist, Lantz, which is in West Hollywood. We are putting our heads together to design a full sleeve of ink for me which will be started in September. I am really excited about working with him. He does some really incredible work, and the shop functions like a friendly, well-oiled machine. I am so happy I’m getting a tattoo from him, in that shop. Truly.

Now I have to purge some grievances about a previous experience I had at the ever popular, High Voltage Tattoo, better known as Kat Von D’s shop in the show called LA Ink. What a colossal disappointment that was.

For months I had been emailing the shop, Kat Von D, and one of the artists – Kim – who is also on the show, about her designing and getting started on a full arm for me, but never heard back from any of them over the course of 6 months or more. Because their site says that walk-ins are welcome, and because my boyfriend’s sister was here from St Paul and wanting to get a tattoo there, we decided to drive over to the shop during their hours of operation, which are from 9 PM -12 AM. Seriously.

When we get there, the stars from the show are of course not working there. Instead there are a handful of artists that will do a first come/first serve tattoo for you, provided you are cool enough. We wait in a line at the receptionist, who is a 20-something chick with too much make up on. She makes no eye contact with us. She is very busy joking with the guy sitting next to her, who may or may not work there. If he does, he is certainly doing a whole lotta nothing.

I ask how I can get an appointment with Kim. Impossible. You must email her (as I was doing) and if she’s into it, she’ll respond. So I ask about the artists that are there and she tells me they are all booked up for tonight. There are no appointments. You just have to come at the beginning of their 3 hour shift each day and hope you get in for a tattoo. This girl cannot be bothered with further questions; she is busy talking with the just-sitting-there guy and 2 tattoo artists that are just kind of hovering around with nothing to do.

I begin looking through each artist’s portfolio and ask, “Which one is Dennis?” I like his portfolio. She pauses and looks to one of the hovering ones while answering me: “Dennis? Uhhmmmm…” and Dennis, who is standing right there (perhaps they were going to tell me he wasn’t there?) says he is Dennis. I ask if I can talk to him right then about a sleeve I want to do, and he says, “I guess so” and I pull out some print outs and sketches I had with me. When I tell him I’m a painter, he immediately says he doesn’t like to work with other artists because “two artists together butt heads.” Really? I did not know that. Sounds like he’s had some bad experiences. And I tell him that I’m looking for a tattoo artist who can just take my rough ideas and run with them. They have total freedom to create whatever they wanted from there. But he says he’s just not into the ideas I have and is not inspired. “It’s just not my thing,” he said. “I’m just being honest.” I tell him I’m glad he is being honest because I don’t want someone who’s not into the job and move onto getting Nikki (my Boyfriend’s sis) taken care of since she was only in town for a short while longer. She tells him about a couple thoughts she has about a phoenix on her foot, but isn’t clear on how it should look yet. He didn’t try to help her define anything, nor did he ask any questions other than where she was from. But she is not feeling welcome anyway, with him or at this shop, and so decides not to pursue it further.

We go back to the car, and I cry a little but don’t really know why. It’s fine that the guy didn’t like my art. Or that he’s got a problem working with another artist, or whatever stick he had up his ass. It’s fine that the shop receptionist is on a royal, too-cool-for-school power trip (chalk that up to being young in Hollywood), but the whole idea of having a good time and going out on a Friday night to get a tattoo was shot. It was just a big snobby turn off. I was embarrassed for my city that Nikki got to see the crap-stereotype of Hollywood hipsters to the Nth degree. It was just a fucked up night.

Kat Von D must not mind her employees spewing attitude. It certainly doesn’t bode well for the laid-back vibe that is Kat Von D – her night shift is totally misrepresenting her, the show, LA (sort of), and tattoo artists alike. I mean, I’m not some total dork from the Mormon Church, I’m an artist and ex-rock musician with a few tattoos on my arms and my neck, but I sure felt like a total loser in that fucked up shithole full of meanies that is High Voltage Tattoo. Gaaaaaad!

But, if I didn’t have that experience, I would not have wound up at Zulu, where they have an actual procedure to service their clientele. What a novel fucking idea! Everyone there far out-cool the wannabe coolsville of LA Ink’s 2nd tier of goons. At Zulu Tattoo, they have a small band of amazing tattoo artists that want to work with you, not against you. Nikki got a bad-ass phoenix on her foot from Sameerah, and I’m on my way to having 6 months worth of work I know I’m going to be proud of from Lantz. I am so glad to be 40 where I know life is too short to deal with a bunch of pricks that so desperately need to be somebody and think they attain this state of being by treating others like they’re nobodies. I am also getting more for fewer greenbacks too.

Check out Lantz’s work at ZuluTattoo.com. He’s the nicest guy ever too. I especially love this Candy Land sleeve he’s created: