It's about time someone told that guy to shut up

sean young enters rehab after heckling the irrepressibly narcissistic julian schnabel at the director's guild awards.

she should get a peace prize, that guy is an art menace.

Paint color: Nightmare

today while helping my friend J. find a new car, i came upon this brand new Honda Fit. the paint color is listed as: Nightmare. they got that right.

the challenge of finding a cool-looking car inside of a budget is one of my hobbies. lucky for me i now have real purpose with my friend who's shopping around.

normally i just pretend.

Cheese samples

i sent these off today as samples of my love for color and skillz in photoshop. the job was one of the few interesting ones of the last few weeks. people hire this company to inform them of how to color their offices. whatever. it's hard to drum up enthusiasm when my favorite gig is not available.


so this was one job in a growing list who ask for links to articles, or links to a portfolio. it's not entirely new for art, but writers are now starting to get in on the sample site idea.

it made me decide to start another blog, but one that appears as a website. i don't want to actually purchase space. i guess it would be a place i could send potential employers for writing and design. i might even type up my published pieces from long ago before magazines and newspapers were online.

is blogger tweakable this way? i think it could be. this is what i'll be filling my days with from here on out. i just need a clever title first.

The Peace Industry: needs help

Effective

shepard "giant" fairey does it again. beautiful.

Twist

barry mcgee. loved his work before i knew who he was. watched him rise up to art star status. saw his work move from the N-Judah tunnel to the SFMOMA. by total luck, total generosity, total bliss - i have one of his paintings.

it was 1999. my friend took me to an art auction at The Lab because "twist," one of my all-time favorites had a piece up for auction.

the starting price was $50. we got our paddle and got ready. the auction started off with a bang. quickly rising to $500, it soon became a battle between me and another girl. my friend told me she'd give (yes, give - it was the dot.com boom years and she had built an impressive "portfolio") me $500 and i could take it as far as i wanted as long as i could pay any extra. the fight was on. this girl and i kept bidding in $50 increments. we were both just regular indie girls in their 20s. it's not like we were loaded, we were just stricken with a deep love for the most popular and exciting piece in the show - and a load of adrenaline. the crowd was cheering loudly. there may have been screams. it's kind of a blur. needless to say i won. when i gave the final bid of $600 and was declared the winner, a huge cheer went up. people stomped their feet and clapped. the girl who did not win gave me a shrug and a smile. i jumped up in the air like a lucky little leprechaun and went home with my first seriously collectible piece of art.

i love it so much. it has never left prominent display in my house. fortunately the thieves who robbed me two years in a row in 2001-2 had no idea how much money was hanging on the wall right above the $3 pot pipe they stole.

my piece resembles this one:

now, barry "twist" mcgee is moving forward after being absent on the art scene for years. i heard rumors that his wife died shortly after giving birth to their only child in the early 00s. i'm sure this is what has kept him quiet. but now he's opened a solo show in England, and his graceful, delicate line paintings have expanded to include graphic blocks of color reminiscent of MC Escher's backgrounds. perfect.

so take note. it seems Barry is Back. but please just call him Twist.

Maxon Crumb, loon extraordinaire

there's little in the world as befuddling as the totally insane crumb brothers. it seems unusual that a whole family would be certifiable (unless you're from texas and love chainsaws). only middle brother robert crumb seems to have escaped the cold, evil blade of total insanity.

in this vein max crumb is unduly fascinating. he used to be out and about often, doing his weird, looney stuff. it's almost a right of passage as a san francisco resident, to witness max crumb out on the street. guy and i have both run into him, and tried not to stare. i saw him sitting on a bed of nails by a bus stop on market street. apparently he has recovered some mental health recently since making a friend who has helped him keep his bed of nails indoors, and eat sometimes.

none of this would be exceptional at all, especially given the area (6th street) that he lives in, except for the fact that he's such a gifted artist. all the crumb brothers are, but in my opinion max takes first prize. on any pop art fan's list of purchases should be a piece of max's art.

This Just In: Beck, not a robot!

this came to me from one of my people out in the field:

"Beck sat in front of me on my last trip to NY on 1/12. I’m happy to report that he is SO VERY NICE. And, now I’m an even bigger fan! No one else recognized him and there were definitely some much younger and hipper looking people on the plane. He was very surprised I knew who he was (me with the suburban housewife thing going on!) – apparently he rarely gets recognized. He was traveling with a few of his entourage/band who were also very nice. I guess I was a little surprised because some of his music can be pretty weird and dark, although I do love it. I was afraid to say anything to him until the very end of the flight. A totally nice guy, and almost blushing when I told him I was a big fan of his music! I guess they’re all just people, just like us…"

the funny thing about this friend and what she says here, is that she is directly related to a famous rock star who played with beck during a tour several years ago. she didn't even think to tell him that they have someone in common. how funny that she, as much as anyone, can struggle to see the human-ness in the very famous/very talented while at the same time sees her relative as so human, she forgets he's very famous/very talented.

UPDATE: in further news my contact tells me that beck went out of his way to wish her "happy trails" in baggage claim after the flight. she said he seemed genuinely appreciative of her attention. she also tells me he had a short, sort of dorky haircut.

(picture above was taken one week before my friend ran into him. no wonder he wasn't recognized. nice new look! UPDATE: does new update make this a wig scenario?)

A Cool Quiz

surely everyone with access to the internet has received an email from a friend encouraging you to "fill out this quiz!" i always fill 'em out, and i'm sick of them always being the same and having some really dumb questions...so i wrote my own and passed it around to my friends.

1. do you think Drew Barrymore is smart or stupid?
2. do you think you’ll die young or old?
3. what’s the first time you threw up in public?
4. when you spill something on your shirt, do you watch it sink in? do you rub it in? or do you run to get a paper towel and quickly mop it up?
5. what’s the first rock concert you ever saw?
6. what is the grossest thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?
7. how long have you known your oldest friend?
8. when are you happiest?
9. do you chew on the ends of pens?
10. what’s one thing you wish your parents had taught you that they totally did not?
11. what is one different thing you would do in raising a child as opposed to how you were raised?
12. did you have an imaginary friend as a child?
13. do you have a “uniform?” what is it?
14. if you could have one other career than the one you have, what would it be?
15. what could you never do as a career?
16. rain or shine?
17. where do you want to go on vacation next?
18. will it happen?
19. what’s your favorite kind of music?
20. what’s the worst physical injury you’ve ever had?
21. ever had surgery? If so what kind?
22. needles. Love ‘em? Hate ‘em?
23. are you “half-empty” or “half-full?”
24. what are some tools you have employed in order to stay sane in an insane world?
25. what are your nose-picking techniques?

RESULTS
by far, the most thought-provoking answers i got were in response to the question, "What do you wish your parents taught you, that they totally did not." i also found it interesting that they were so similar. maybe this will be quality info for those of you with children.

- that most people are assholes
- that not everyone has good in them
- to floss
- that i'm good enough
- the importance of education (x2)
- self confidence
- to learn to drive

other answers of note: most of us think of our glass as half-full. this is nice to know! i am one of two who admitted to being half-empty, with one person going a step further to say their glass is 3/4s empty.

most people think drew barrymore is very smart. this is probably something that only i have spent time thinking about. but i was relieved when one of my friends agreed with me that drew's likely a dummy. my favorite answer: "i don't know, but she tries really hard."

2nd favorite answer came from, "What's your favorite kind of music?" with the answer: "The kick-ass kind."

everyone has a uniform.

nose-picking techniques are wide-ranging and even more widely developed. i applaud all who gave me the details.

people were seriously closed-mouth about my favorite question: "what's the grossest thing you ever put in your mouth" answers included: no comment (x4), rocky mountain oysters, chocolate covered grasshoppers. huh. seems like some minds were in the gutter. or just firmly planted in reality.



(ps. this quiz experiment took place in april of last year)

Kim Deal decides to fight the good fight

blah blah blah roger waters blah blah dark side blah blah. i love the Floyd as much as everyone born in 1970, but what really matters here?!



(fist pump) YES!

Gay designers get big (er)

jonathan adler. i liked him more before i knew what he looked like and sounded like. which is bitchy and bitchy. i think he was a judge on some show...OH, "Top Design" on Bravo. so why bother with him?! because he produces stuff like this:



pretty pretty pretty sweet.

i wonder if i bought the anger jar, and brought it into the house, if i could mentally force my anger into the jar and keep it there until needed. it almost seems like the kind of thing that could work for someone as pathological as me.

WHICH REMINDS ME
Another great designer recruited for "Top Design"...Todd Oldham - who is not bitchy - has been hired by Old Navy to design a line of clothes for them due out next Spring. Now that's thinkin'.

"Street Boners and TV Carnage"

The bad news: Gavin McInnes is no longer writing the "Dos and Don'ts" for Vice (and it couldn't be more obvious).

The good news: He's moved here.

An upset at the theatre

DO'H

"I'm an Idiot."

i can relate.

Dream Job

i want a job where i have my own office. my own work space. a place where i can make piles and not worry about it. i'd decorate with funky/fun stuff. like my fillmore poster collection.

i realize wanting a job with my own office is asking a lot. so how about my own work space where i can really make myself at home. i would put up pictures of clementine, and guy, and guy and me and our trips. maybe my nephews.

i just want a job that i have the ability to think freely at. to form stories and know what i'm saying. to have the authority and wherewithal to fight back if necessary. to say, "No, actually, this is the way it should be." i want to be so into a topic that i'm writing about, that i stay really late at night. people leave the office and come by and say, "Hey! go home! you've gotta get a life!"

i'd get an office plant too. maybe something hanging.

One thing to miss about the City...

extreme randomness.


(i took this picture about 3 years ago in the noe valley neighborhood.)

Psych!

good god almighty. i did not get the job i thought for sure i was going to get.

they said i was perfect. i guess just slightly less perfect than the perfect person they chose.

Bam Margera just proved it

stupid bam margera trying to sound bad-ass to the baddest ass of all time - iggy pop - is cringe-worthy. iggy is a gentleman about it.

this is a font of fun.

Steve Jobs circa 2008

anybody notice how sickly thin steve jobs has become? guy watched his whole keynote address last night with me looking over his shoulder. jobs unveiled the new Macbook Air (wow) and the iTunes offering of video rentals (bye bye video stores and netflix?), the new Touch etc. it was very exciting. the man is smart. god, i envy that.

but what's up with his skinniness? i'm concerned. i'm concerned about steve jobs.

(pictured below: circa 2007)

Punch-Drunk Death

the feeling was gone, but now it's back. it's more like thoughts, but they have a lot of feeling.

i can't stop thinking about jeremy blake and theresa duncan, two successful artists, and their suicides. theirs is a love story, and a mystery. i first read about it in vanity fair upon arrival in bali. it's weird and crazy and stunning. i was left with a cement block on my chest for 24 hours at least. now that feeling is back.

what is this about them wanting to "hire old men to fuck them in the ass" (vanity fair)? that's so out of left field. about scientologists? people following them? about losing it so badly. so much left unsaid. did theresa go insane and was jeremy a casualty? or were people really following them and were those people really scientologists? is scientology a powerful cult? or is it just a thing that the media has built up to mythological levels? WHAT HAPPENED to these two people?

i was on the third paragraph of the vanity fair article when i realized i used to read theresa's site a couple years ago. i have no idea how i came across it, but i liked the way she wrote. unusual in a way i can't describe. maybe the subject matter. i remember it clearly because i saw her picture and thought she looked too normal to write that way.

i've been a fan of jeremy blake's since Punch-Drunk Love and Sea Change. both featuring his art, i believe they both came out about the same time. (in fact he designed four covers for beck's record, all of which beck had produced in differing quantities. awesome.) when i read this story i was shocked to say the least. i hope more information comes forth in the future. it seems to me this story is far from over.

look at this weird site i found today when i was researching a medicine i'm going to start taking. seriously, WTF is scientology?



(jeremy blake killed himself by walking into the atlantic ocean. is there more a dramatic way to go? i asked guy this and he said, "yes.")

UPDATE: even more weird scientology stuff - a friend of mine sent me this link yesterday.

The Honeymoon Part 4: Up north to Pemuteran

12.25.07 Christmas in the Tropics!

Christmas day starts off with a cocktail at the Four Seasons Resort. it is a five star, over-the-top hotel with a koi pond on it's roof. we have checked out of Oka Wati's and are on our way out of town. we quickly realize that the "road map" we have bought for $10 bucks in Ubud, is as useless as our first useless map. none of the roads we see are on the map, and even though we have tried to prepare for this with a little ruler of sorts with kilometer markings on it, it turns out the map is also not to scale.

when we get to the Four Seasons, we are ready for something nice.



entering on the roof and walking down through a koi pond, we come to the first floor of the hotel. it's built on the side of a cliff facing acres of palm and banana trees. this allows for the entrance on the roof.



everything is infinitely refined around us. walls are smooth, floors are cold, there is no sound but a whisper of far away happenings, and gamelan players directly in front of us gracing the bottom of the staircase as we enter the "bar" area.



we sit down and look at the menu. we want a champagne drink in honor of Christmas. we want special. ha. champagne drinks at the Four Seasons in Ubud are $28 a piece! well, we won't be doing that. we opt for something tropical and cheap at $14. it's a special day. we splurge. we order duck potstickers for an additional $17. we lean back and drink in as much as we can kind of afford.



the architecture is so cool, it's difficult to understand. the engineering that must have been involved. we've looked into how much it costs to stay there. the base price is $450/night.



we dreamily take a few shots and then get back on the road.

NEXT STOP: a rest stop, where the salesgirls in the store laugh at us, "ha ha...blah blahblah blah...honeymoon...ha ha ha ha...blah blah blah."

I think they were laughing at us, i tell guy. oh they definitely were, he says. there are no tourists up north. we are heading where very few americans head. we are not pioneers, we are just freewheeling like bob dylan.



the drive north is fun. we get amazing vistas as we reach the top of a mountain range. we find abandoned mega-resorts, more wild monkeys and finally, as we descend towards the northern coast: the Git Git Falls.


we turn off at the first sign. there isn't so much a parking lot, as a space on the side of the road. a guy with one eye approaches us, followed by a young guy who looks like he should be in a boy band. they tell us they'll watch our car, and take us on the 300 meter walk to the falls. we take our bathing suits and head out. i am suspicious as usual, and guy is confident.

the walk is short, and the falls are beautiful. smaller than we imagined, but very beautiful and lush and falling hard. we are told we can swim if we want. we find a nook in the rock and change. we dive in together. the water is chilled but not like it'd be in the sierras. what a surreal christmas. i keep trying to relate to what normally would be, then i do something like dive into a water fall.

we swim a bit while our guide shoots pictures of us. we hike back. we pay him. we get back in the car.

as we leave the falls area, we pass another sign for "Git Git Falls" and then another and then finally a third that actually has a parking lot and a more official appearance. we laugh. lots of "Git Git Falls." i knew there was a reason to be suspicious. we were so taken by the boy band guy and his one-eyed friend!

Lovina
As soon as we get close to Lovina, guy starts talking in a mexican accent. "hola senor" he says to every passing man. he repeats every sign he sees with the accent. i don't fully realize why until later.

as we're pulling into the northern coastal town that is described as "sleepy" in the guide book, we are approached by a guy on a motorbike. guy rolls down the window, motorbike guy hands us a crumpled business card. he says it's for a hotel. there are good prices and it's very clean. we say, "Why not?" and follow him into town and to the hotel.

after a quick look-through, we deem it fine. they get us for sure when they tell us it's half-price for the night.

we're in.



we get dinner and sit outside our room on a little patio for hours. we recount our similar childhoods. our memories are flowing. we remember what our moms used to make us for dinner in the 70s. like chung king and tuna casserole. we remember our christmases. our favorites, our least favorites and what we would get from Santa (guy got bikes, bike gear, toys. i got books, drawing supplies and socks). we both had dads who liked to make us wait to go under the christmas tree in the morning.

we sit and drink beer after beer and then decide to call guy's family. it's 9am on the east coast, and 10pm that night for us. four houses. four phone calls. we laugh and cry and surprise the relatives. they scream out, "AHHH!" when they recognize our voices. "you have made our christmas!" they say. we get a deep inner glow. they have given us so much love over the phone wires from the other side of the world. it's the perfect way to end a very odd, but very fun day.

we fall asleep watching Dick and Jane on HBO.



12.26.07
Turns out guy was speaking with a mexican accent in Lovina because Lovina is the balinese Tijuana.

As we leave town, and head west, we see where we were. trash is everywhere. the beach is a hazard. it stinks. the place is thrashed. there are no cars here. only motorbikes. there is no art here. it is obviously dependent only on agriculture to get by. fortunately, there is a ton of that.

we're happy to leave Lovina, but we don't know where we're going to stay next. we realize that we have 6 more days. it seems an eternity! we're so excited by this prospect, and still getting to be lazy. we are still not being called upon to do a goddamn thing. what a luxury.

i look in the guidebook and see that there is very very little in the way of accomodations and things to see and do on the rest of the north coast and then south on the west coast. i say we need to stay in Pemuteran next, and there are a few good options there. first though, we should check out a natural hot springs area called Air Panas.



guy called it, "like swimming in a national geographic magazine." and that's what it looked like to our virgin eyes. people of several origins, religions (women in headwraps) and colors swam in the very large hot springs. i was stared at mercilessly as i was the only woman not in full clothing. i got out quickly and took some shots. it wasn't my favorite activity. it was one of those you don't enjoy, and know you won't but do anyway. as we left we were accosted by the little girls who got us going in too. they are begging us to buy jewelry. i am reminded of "Children of the Corn" while they repeat in soft, singsong-y voices, "one thousand one thousand one thousand one thousand one thousand" as they follow us the long road back to the car. finally, i break, as does guy. we say, "it's only ten cents. let's pick up some bracelets." we get some smiles from the girls worth way more than that and then we're off.




12.27.07 Pemuteran
guy is sick.

bummer on the house of jones. when he is sick, he isolates himself. he does not talk, he just does. he gets up. he showers. he eats. he lies still. he moans. it is fortunate guy can be sick in such a nice place.



we are currently checked in to the fanciest place either of us has ever stayed. it's $100 a night. we have our own villa and our own private pool. it's unreal. we are so excited.



the day before, upon arrival, we run around checking the place out. it's a brand new resort and smells that way. i see the shampoo in a glass bottle with a stopper and scream, "i'm so excited!" guy opens and slams shut all the glass doors. he finds the backyard with it's own private koi pond and outdoor tub and shower. there is also an indoor shower if you don't want to be outside.

anything you could possibly want is in the villa. even wine. when guy finds the wine, we settle in our outdoor kitchen and i wait for him to pop the bottle. we have missed wine, our drink of choice. this is an unprecedented moment. seated at our own pool with the Bali sea spread out in the near distance, a mountain range directly behind us.



this is to be our home for four nights. when guy suggests four nights, my heart sinks at the idea of blowing $400 so quickly, but what are ya gonna do? say no to your own villa? and private pool? i don't have that in me. these are not luxuries we can even approach affording back home.

so guy is sick by day 2.

i proceed to read and write pretty continually for the next two days. i make lists like:

Rules I have Broken:
1. bringing narcotics into the country
2. bathing in the tub even though it says "out of order due to water shortage"

Reading:
1. A Paper Life by Tatum O'Neal
2. unpublished stories by Barett Brown
3. December Vanity Fair
4. IV by Chuck Klosterman

Top 3 questions asked of us in Bali:
1. Where are you from? (which sometimes comes out as "where do you come from?" - to me a much more difficult question)
2. How long you here?
3. First time in Bali? - always followed by "ahhh (smile) welcome to bali!"

we are asked these three questions by every balinese person we talk to in Bali. including every desk clerk, car rental person, suitcase carrier, customs person, waiter, driver, bartender and masseuse.

Top 3 answers to top 3 questions:
1. where do we come from has been surprisingly challenging to answer. at first we said, "San Francisco" until someone thought "Francisco" meant France. In Ubud some people didn't seem to know where it is. we also answered "America" which seemed cocky and ambiguious as there are two Americas, right? even though we have been called "americans" throughout the trip without falter. Then guy started saying "United States." i never liked this one. it sounds clumsy to me. also, maybe dangerous as i am pretty sure it is the term used to describe us in ways like "only the United States failed to sign the kyoto treaty." i thought about saying, "The U.S." because the brits say, "the UK" but i never did. finally, we settled on "California." this seemed to always bring a smile and more often than the others, a look of recognition. and to hilarious effect, upon hearing the word "california," the balinese would break out into song, "hotel california" and look at us and smile. one guy even knew that it's the Eagles who wrote hotel california. only once did guy try to explain that technically Hotel California is in mexico.

2. in [insert town] 3 or 4 days. in bali? 2 weeks.

3. yes.



Farma
what amazing luck. there is a pharmacy right next door to luxuryville. i go to get guy some cough medicine. i'm hopeful i can get something with codeine in it when i enter the bright white building and see rows and rows of bottles behind plastic sliding doors. my heart quickens as always in pharmacies. i have a true love of pharmaceuticals, and not just taking them.

i tell the pharmacist using part pantomine and part distilled english that i need something for a "hack hack" cough. and for lots of "snort snort" snot in the nose. she shows me three kinds of syrup. i read them all and recognize all ingredients but one. this makes me think it might be something stronger than robitussin. i choose it. she has me sign a slip of paper that looks like a prescription. hope! i pay the exhorbitant bali price of $7.50 for the large bottle and leave.

next i go to the resort's computer room and look up the ingredients. all are on the up and up, totally normal and non-narcotic. oh well. i've picked out an expectorant and a suppresant. the package says something else i investigate as having fun potential: spasmolytic.

nice.

i think it must be an anti-spasm agent, and this could be good.

according to wikipedia, it is both a muscle relaxant and a skinny puppy single.

HA! i laugh. thank god i'm not taking a sip of music that sounds like nightmares.

when i get to guy, he is grateful. he takes a few sips and says it makes his face feel funny. 10 minutes later he is much better. i have also taken a few sips and feel nothing. at least guy is on the up and up. the fun should continue soon.

Snorkel
i only got introduced to snorkeling a couple years ago, and can't get enough. unfortunately, we are in bali during monsoon season, and the wind and rain stir up a lot of sand underwater, making it difficult to see anything. we do catch one good day though, and learn something about electricity, water and rebuilding reefs.



the Pemuteran Reef Project is something the people are very excited about. it's pretty genius. as we snorkle we see the effect of this out-there project to restore reefs that have been destroyed by idiots who decide one day to fish by using dynamite. the balinese have put huge skeletal metal cages in the water and (somehow) charge them with electricity thereby making new coral grow and bringing about new fish and all kinds of life.



snorkeling here is a new kind of amazing. not only do we get to see beautiful fish and coral, but it feels like we're swimming in a sculpture garden.



Jungle Chicken
just a quick note to anyone who might go to bali. you've got to check out the jungle. lots of wildlife live there and they're totally viewable. we saw a barking deer (he actually barks), a jungle chicken (beautiful! great name), a huge lizard that looks like a komodo dragon, wild boar, another kind of deer and lots more monkeys. there are resorts on this tip of the island that you can only access via boat. pretty cool. the jungle resort, from which we view all of this is totally empty. so empty, and so large that i feel like we've walked into a balinese texas chainsaw massacre movie. upon arrival, we sit on a vast deck. a man comes out, welcomes us, takes our drink order and disappears for a long time. i walk around checking the place out. there is no one in sight. not even at the welcome desk. i smell something dead under the deck. the air is so still. i get creeped out. i tell guy we've been trapped and we're gonna die.



the thing about bali that is so sad, that the people tell us about every other day, is how tourism is so down due to the terrorist bombings of 2002 and 2005. apparently the island almost recovered most tourism by 2005 when the suicide bombers hit them again. now no one goes to bali. the residents tell us, as we sit in empty restaurants and at empty pools, that these places used to be filled with tourists. bombing bali is ridiculous. impossible to understand. like thailand, this country has no feel of violence in the air. people don't seem to take advantage of others (except maybe the git git guys with tourists like us), people don't steal, there is no feel of physical threat on the streets. and yet...they have been targeted by extremists. our parents were worried about us going to bali because of these bombings, and being americans. the sad truth is, we felt safer in bali than we do in san francisco.

12.29 - 12.30.07
we drive south, get lost, get found, eat after starving, turn in the car and get a ride to the airport. it's all over, and we're headed home after a short stop in bangkok for a bangin' new year's eve.