Get Hammered

So I admit that I was reading too quickly when I saw that the Hammer Museum was opening an exhibit for Paul McCarthy called Headspace, I misread it. I was like, cool, a Beatle does art. I’ll check it out.

I invited Faye to join me. I had never been to the Hammer before and Faye had yet to visit an LA museum since she moved here. Win-Win. When she asked me what the exhibit was, I actually couldn’t even remember that I had thought it was Paul McCartney. I told her I didn’t know, but that it was an opening and…why not.

Why not, indeed. Whenever Faye and I get together, we have fun.

The weather was clear, the roads weren’t cloggy and anything could happen.

I picked her up and we caught up and chatted about all her current activities. Faye is an actress living her best life here in LA. She and I met doing theater in Portland several moons ago. She is so good that she moved to LA and didn’t need to get a job doing anything else. Her hustle is legit and she works EVERY DAY! So I like hearing about this voice over gig and that audition and this film and that commercial and this awards show and that theater role. Plus, she had just had some friends visiting so I got to hear about how she took them all over LA, like I had once taken her. But with her own spin on it, naturally.

We got to Westwood and started looking for parking. I wasn’t worried. We would find the best space. But we drove around a few times. I got disorientated. But then…voila! Space found. Almost like valet. not really. But not…not really.

She had just gotten the iphone 11 and I, with my phone envy, got very excited over the camera features.

We wandered into various exhibits and sat in crazy swivel chairs that I knew I was going to break or fall out of (I didn’t).

Dude in one of the swivel art chairs

Then we continued chatting as we entered each exhibit. One was really cool where it was photographs deconstructed in a way that looked like salacious parts of the body but in reality was like a knuckle or a belly button.

I kept saying, “that’s a penis. Or a butthole.”

And Faye would point out my mistake. “That’s a belly button.”

“Oh, but that one there is definitely a butthole…and a penis.”

“Uh, wrong again. You seem to be able to see ONLY those two things.”

I laughed. But wondered why my brain was stuck in 8 year old boy mode.

Then we entered the Paul McCarthy exhibit.

I once saw the Basquiat exhibit at MOCA with Mads and I had to leave the room because the energy coming off the canvas was so dark and negative that I couldn’t breathe (sue me, I am dramatic), but in the same museum, I was admiring Warhol’s suicide/death series and was like, “hmmmmm, interesting.” I loved the film about Basquiat, but that exhibit was too intense. I don’t even remember what the paintings were of. So it’s not subject matter, apparently, it’s how it makes me feel.

And McCarthy’s work felt aggressive and like he was working some stuff out of his soul.

And then Faye says, “Well, here’s your penis. And your butthole. And there is another one. You were in the wrong exhibit.” And we laughed as we hightailed it outta there.

We drank some wine. Took in the people-watching. Took snaps with her phone. In fact, she handed it to me and said, go wild! So I did! Love that girl.

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An older gentleman walked up to us and asked us about one of the exhibits (Max Hooper Schneider’s ‘Transfer Station,’ 2019. Mixed media) and we told him it was interesting and to take a look,

“But it’s a long line. Is it worth it?” Dude, you’re here. Why not?

“Check it out and see,” we said.

Then he said, “Did you check out the big exhibit by McCarthy? Disturbed!”

And it hit me that I sounded like that old man. BLECH!

“Well, it’s art,” I said, “and everyone gets something out of some things,”

What a nonsensical thing to say, but it got me out of the conversation. I mean, I did think it was disturbed, but I was never gonna try and encaspsulate art into something. It’s ART! You don’t have to love it.

We felt the rumble in our bellies and knew the cheese sticks they were passing out weren’t going to do the trick. We left the Hammer and wandered Westwood Village on a Saturday night. How was it possible that everything was closing? It was 9:30!!!! This is a college town! But we ended up at the Napa Valley Grille and as Faye/Poppeacock luck dictates, it was HAPPY HOUR!!!!

Our server was great, the food was delish and the rose was perfect! We played around with various settings on her phone as we finished up. As I went to the restroom, I realized, we were leaving before their posted closed hour, but we were the only people there who didn’t work there. Oops. Time to boogie.

We made our way down Wilshire back to her place. The air was still perfect and roads were still clear.

Getting cultured and shit.

We’re classy like that.

Contact Highs and Lows

“I can’t believe you have never been to the Annenberg Space for Photography,” Mads said while sipping a very large vodka soda. It was Friday night and I was exhausted and feeling like the day had its stank on me. Mads texted, do you and Shaka want to go out tonight? I wanted to. But, I also knew I was pooped from a really strange week.

Shaka agreed we should go and there was no looking back on that decision. A night out with Mads and ST8 is always fun, if not funny. Plus it’s good when you’re feeling low, to make contact with people who will bring up your energy.

We met at Mucho Mas (“full bar and old El Coyote drink prices” her text promised).

We had old people conversation (health talk) and hip people conversation (film and music schtuff). I mentioned we were going to the Annenberg to see the exhibit “Contact High: A Visual History of Hip Hop” but that I had never been to the Annenberg before. Mads and ST8 had already seen the exhibit but recommended it. It is strange that I had never been before but there’s a first time for everything.

Saturday, I picked up my new glasses. I must have been drinking when I picked them out a few weeks ago. I don’t remember choosing THESE. I mean. I like them, but I actually had no memory of saying, “Yes, these are my next pair!” But they are…soooo. I love them…now.

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Crosseyed AF

 

Then I headed to get my haircut. Kristen used to work at a salon near me but has her own place now in Woodland Hills. I hadn’t gone to her in over a year and she can shape up this mane like nobody’s business. (https://kristenscurltherapy.com/)

Loved her new place and we chatted about a myriad of topics. Mostly politics (we are on the same page – phew), meditation, spirituality, travel, etc. It was great reconnecting with her and I love my new cut!!!

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New glasses, new cut (and after today, new color) – ohhhhh somebody STOP ME!

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When I got home, Shaka and I started to catch up on Mindhunter first season. I wasn’t in a particularly bingey mood but Netflix has a way of making that happen even if you didn’t plan on it. *Shakes fist to the Streaming Gods!* We are liking the series…that sounds weird since it’s about serial killers.

Today, Shaka and I headed to Century City to see the exhibit which has been extended until next week, I believe.

We decided to go to Eataly in Century City and nosh on some yummy pasta.

With our bellies full of Italian food goodness, we made our way down the street to the Annenberg.

We parked in a pretty amazing spot. And headed to the stairwell.

We followed a man up the stairs. Shaka asked, “Is this the way to the museum?” The man nodded. We followed him. Up a flight of stairs. Then another. Then down the stairs. The man looked at us and said, “Where is it?” and we realized we had been following a red herring irl. Ugh. Then there was another couple and the man followed them. But they were lost TOO! The five of us rambling up and down the stairs like that scene in Spinal Tap where they can’t find the stage.

We finally make it to a long hallway and to the outside world. We almost followed the group as they headed the wrong way AGAIN! We stood back and watched them go one direction and then come back our way. The man in the couple looked at me after returning and said, “that’s the wrong way. That’s CAA…it’s an agency. A really big agency.” I politely nodded while simultaneously unpolitely saying, “I know.” I can’t fault him though…we were a group unable to find our way out of a stairwell…he probably assumes I am a stoopid.

But the direction gods got us to the right place.

 

The exhibit was really cool. There was a short film too. I absolutely adore photography about pop culture and music.

It was cool to see actual proof sheets too. There was a series of shots with Aaliyah where she had marked big Xs on the proof sheets on the ones she didn’t like (many) and Os on the ones she liked. Throughout the exhibit, even though they were photographs, there was something so visceral and alive about many of the shots.

 

As we left, the line to get in had gotten longer. We decided to try an elevator back to our car which ALMOST didn’t turn out well. But the direction gods were back with us after momentarily tying one on and we found our car.

We drove home over the canyons and past the palm trees.

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After a crazy week of highs and lows, it was nice to end it on an such a high note.