Kvetches

Running around, getting sick & inspired

Ayin EsLeave a comment

I’ve been sicker than a dog these last 2 weeks, and the doctor said to expect a couple more. I am wiped out completely/completely wiped out. Having my Open Studio the other week was hard to get through because that was probably the first day or so I got this virus from Hell. I wish I could say I am feel much better since then; I am way less congested, but all I want to do is sleep like a bear. Oh, but if only I was a bear. Bears are not neurotic.

 

For the past week, I’ve tried to spend as much time making art as I have had the energy for, which really isn’t much. I stand for a while, get dizzy, get tired, and have to lay down and sleep. I have 2 of the same size pieces going at both my home studio and at Moppet – 36” x 36” – both very different. One is a continuation from Contender, and yet as always. I am trying to allow the influence of what inspires me flow into the work without stunting it. It’s the freedom of Amy Sillman, the innovation of newer discoveries too. I’ve been most focused on local artist, Mary Addison Hackett, NY artist, David Humphrey, and a Japanese/British artist: Peter McDonald. Looking at their work lately has given me a lot of inspiration to create with abandon and remind myself that I really have nothing else.

 

The painting I have on my new easel at Moppet is a sort of an Ofrenda for both my parents. I have been sorting out a lot of flowers along the top, while adding a lot of things they both loved to eat around the bottom, which is based ontop of a make-shift cloudy heavenly sort of upsidedown sprially dripy plaine. So far there are things in there like a bowling trophy, bowling pin, Doritos bag, Yocco’s Hot Dog guy, Tommy’s burger logo, Ding Dongs, Sunkist orange soda, Dolle’s Saltwater Taffy… I know it still needs some Jiffy Pop. I may put in some sugar skulls for effect, but I’m not sure.It’s still gotta be mine.

 

This weekend marked the 1 year anniversary of my father’s death. I spent Sunday at Forest Lawn Cemetery.My mom’s brand new tablet was in place and that was very very hard to see. I laid on the grass between the two of them, like when I was a little kid, curling up between them in bed when I was scared, and just slept in the sun between them, crying and asking if they knew I was there or if they knew how much I missed them. It doesn’t feel like I am moving past this situation at all whatsoever.

 

Back to painting today. I am going to work on the one at home and try to go somewhere new. I’m going to try not to be afraid and remember to allow myself permission to experiment and trust my gut. Funny I have to tell myself the very same things every time after decades of painting, eh?

 

 

In progress (at home).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prop 8: WTF?

Ayin Es4 Comments

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?!

Tattoo You

Ayin Es12 Comments

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:

40

Ayin Es5 Comments

Well the other day I turned 40, and boy do I feel old! Not really. I kid you. I do feel different though. I feel better. I feel better to leave those pesky 30s behind me. What good are they? Except for confusing the hell out of us. I think I was freaked out for the entire decade. Panic attacks, worry, redefining myself… Exhausting! Today I feel sick and tired of that shit and I just am happy to begin the best part of my life. 40 is da shit I tell you! 40 crushes the little girlyman 30s and ignorant, glib-ass 20s. Poop on you hot, fresh youngins with your perfect bodies and bluetooths – being handed prestigious solo shows fresh out of art school. Ya’ll aint got nuthin on me, I’m 40! Four-oh! And I can kick, streeetch aaand kick! I’m forty years old! (Okay, maybe I can’t kick so well, but I can almost touch my toes.)

The only thing I still have to schlep around with me from my 30s are these 30 extra pounds. What is with that? I know that some of the weight comes from medications I have to take, but why should my laziness and indulgences in ice cream be so punishing? I remember ingesting nothing but candy, peanut butter and cigarettes throughout my 20s and never gaining so much as an ounce. In fact, I think I lost weight. And in my 30s, the pounds came at me slowly but shirley. Fuckin’ Shirley. She’s such a see-you-next-tuesday.All of my 30s I lamented my wondrous smoking, thinking that was my ticket to skinny. I considered taking it up again, but alas I probably would have just been a fat smoker opposed to the smelly, musty waif I once was. Oh how youth is wasted on the moronic young.

Okay I think I’m done ranting and raving about my pot belly. I need to go to my Spanish lesson and get ready for a special visitor that’s flying in on a 6pm flight from St Paul.

That white painting I’m working on is coming along, but I haven’t had as much time to work on it as I would have liked. Here it is, more than 3/4 done with the painting. It will need about 45-60 hours of sewing — at least. The mini garment patterns are in Hebrew. It says Stop apologizing for who you are.

work and blabbering

Ayin EsLeave a comment

Hola!

I’ve been buried in work and beyond. I started this painting a couple weeks ago after months of planning it out, on and off – scribbling in my little moleskin where I record my ideas and dreams. I don’t have it readily available as much as I need it. I’ve even thought about rigging it around my neck.

Attaching the bottom half (which is very thick, bumpy fabric) was the hardest part. And I went through more than a gallon of gesso and white paint to start getting it white. Fabric sure likes to suck up water based paint, so I had to change it up after a while and use layers of polymer and then enamel. Once it finally dried in the sun I started layering it with white oil paint. The people at Dick Blick thought I was a nut, since I kept going in there to buy tubes of white. Luckily, only the top layers are the 30 dollar tubes, or else this painting would have put me a lot more in debt.

So the underpainting is done and I’m just starting the fun parts on the top half, bringing out the cartoons and garment patterns that form Hebrew writing, neither which you can really see in this god-awful photo. The Hebrew says Stop apologizing for who you are, an affirmation I’ve been using a lot lately. I’m also putting bits of my Great grandmother with a tree growing out of her head, and my mother getting electric shock treatments. But I want the overall composition to feel tranquil and cozy in a freezing, arctic tundra kinda way.

Oh, so speaking of debt, I just put an unmentionable amount of money into fixing my car. It was cheaper than buying a new car, but enough to buy a certain kind of car. But I love my little CRV, and it needed new struts, arm bushings, a radiator and some pump that works with it, a wheel alignment, and a little bit of this and that besides. I was without car for a couple days, and picking it up and paying for it depressed me for another couple of days. But that’s life.

When I picked it up, MJP and I went to Joshua Tree again. I know that sounds crazy in this heat, but we went very very early in the morning, and as usual, it was gorgeous, peaceful and quiet.

The $2 Bill Show at the I5 gallery at the brewery was nice. Lots of really great work. My favorites were mjp‘s, Leigh Salgado‘s, Yaya Chou, and Reuben Sorenson‘s – who painted on both sides f the bill. It was a great show. I hope Mat Gleason does it again and perhaps make sure that no one signed the front and make people buy the work without knowing what they get, like SMMoA’s Incognito‘s events.

I have to make more coffee. I’m falling asleep typing this. It must be damn boring to read if I’m bored typing it.

More later. Addios, y hasta pronto. (Yes, I am finally learning how to speak Spanish.)