Friday, February 14, 2020

A 'Crip Art Review' of Veronique d'Entremont art



Video still from ‘Church of Art’ with Kim Ye and Laub at Human Resources



Veronique d’Entremont strikes me as determinedly self-assured, generous and potentially goofy at the drop of a hat.

We probably both gush over Jodorowsky’s Psychomagic curriculum, Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red, and a slew of bell hooks books.

She’s a trauma worker/educator, a phoenix and a poet. I feel like she has really done her pedagogical homework, so I’m keen to talk with her more about my Intention Deficit Disorder because it sounds like she may understand it from both sides.

She is currently on an artist-in-residency in Cleveland where she will once again grapple with the presence of fire and how radical care may be necessary in order to re-frame ecological devastation from being past the point of no return, into an accessible process of healing.

She’s part of a powerful contingency of proud queer sculptors taking LA by storm via artist-run spaces.

Hopefully I didn’t overdo it with the pleasantries, that may be what I think I’m supposed to do before launching into a world of my own. I’d like to call this feeling of faking an authority to write about anything Crip Art Criticism, where I’m allowed to say whatever, and take however long as I need to flesh something out, as long as I pepper in some quotable nuggets. Four stars says the review, best show so far this year, no one does it better...  

Behind Nikita Gale’s show at Coaxial we chatted about the notion of getting back into one’s art making practice. She previously fabricated artworks for a famous artist and enjoyed seeing how the output really had her hand in it, but that it was a reminder to turn that energy back towards her own work. I was explaining that I felt born again now having given myself permission to make 50 bad artworks in three months, to throw myself at the whims of useless and probably embarrassing fun. I made a mental note to get to know her better, as I know that the more I get insight into someone’s process the more I come to understand my own questions about myself.



An important diagram from ‘Church of Art’, watch it if you want to know what it all means.

So I need to get something out of the way...

In this LA art scene where once you find your microclimate everyone becomes friends and the world thankfully gets smaller and more manageable... 

am I the last one to have just learned that Veronique’s work may be largely informed by having a suicidal mother? That she’s the kin of a person committed to suicide? 

I thought I had a lot of questions already, but this kind of made my head explode because I already want to ask ‘How’ questions and far too personal questions.  But no one owes me any answers, especially not to the same level as my intense curiosity. I always feel like I want to know so badly, because to me, answers are things that can come easily to others, and not so much to me. In my process of inquiry with others, entire worlds, possibilities and potential new ways of being unfold in an instant in front of me. (Footnote/Tangent 1) 

Here is what my first most immediate questions looked like as a stream of consciousness:

I’ve been trying to grapple with a pre-verbal understanding of why I lack a certain level of self worth that most likely comes from my interactions with my parents. Having a mother that was so sick that she openly discussed suicide with you, how did you keep your self-worth intact? Did you become a caregiver? A hostage? Besides having your grandmother to commiserate with, what was helping you to come to terms with all of this? Have you always used art to cope or did it start with friends?  If anyone read you as Goth, were you like, ‘Dude, you have no idea’? What’s your relationship with your dad like? Was your mother only suicidal for 6 years? How soon do you bring this up when you are teaching about mental health? You were in an accident and you mentioned needing more processing time. Did you first have a relationship to mental health as an advocate when coming to terms with your mother, and then after your accident and your rehabilitation feel more part of ‘the club?’ Joanna Hedva talks about not taking her chronic illness personally because it doesn’t make sense for her to really be embarrassed about anything she has no agency over, and moreover it reveals more about what a larger culture exhibits as it’s worth through how it supports care/disability. Is there something that you feel separate from that you don’t take personally? Have you seen Russian Doll on Netflix? What question are you tired of hearing the most? 

And then I had this question that wasn’t directed towards Veronique:

Why do I have the sinking feeling that I’m the first to put your mother’s illness out there in an art review? 

So, I get it, this isn’t something you’d put in a bio or anything, but I swear, I didn’t stumble upon that information ANYWHERE.  And I’m pretty sure it must come up allll the time. But I don’t know, maybe Veronique is open to opening up about it, but not putting it out on blast. I’m pretty sure that Veronique made this recent video piece about it maybe because she was a little bit over having to explain certain things over and over to people just learning about her work, while simultaneously knowing that to bring it up casually in conversation would irreversibly pivot whatever conversation about her work into one-track mind questions, “How did she kill herself?” “How old were you?” Sure, no one wants to be pigeon holed as the’artist-who-has-a-lot-to-say-about-mental-health-because-mom-totally-killed-herself’ but how do we know we’re not adding to some kind of stigma that suicide is unspeakable/unknowable/unacceptable? (Footnote/Tangent 2)

Also, I’ll admit that part of my shock of feeling like I was the last person to find out that this may be a big part of her identity or art practice or something, is connected to me having one of those embarrassing judgy moments that does a 180. 

So I saw the advertisement for her show with the head made out of beeswax and honeycomb and I thought to myself, that self-portrait is kind of… meh, maybe that’s why she had to add the bees… (It’s unfortunate that I’m a judgmental prick, but I try to make up for it with having a lot of heart and am committed to the joy of being wrong.) 



At some point, Veronique personally invited me to come see her latest exhibition and explains that it’s another cast she’s made of this self-portrait that her mother made... (Egg on my face, she’s not the artist, her mom is!) and she’s been dead for years now... (Oh geez, I’m an asshole). But unlike most people in her situation, her mother had been talking with her and her grandmother about planning the suicide for years… (Wait what?) So my mind pretends to pay attention as Veronique is telling me about an upcoming performance, that it’ll be at xx pm and I should RSVP on the Eventbrite page (You had me at ‘potentially traumatic childhood’ can we be friends? Also, I was actually already planning on it, seeing as how all I want to do is to support other artist-educator-former-fabricators ramping back up one’s art practice, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I feel very personally invested in learning much much more.) 

So yeah, getting to hear Veronique in person talk about her work is kind of where it’s at.

I thought that I could only write about something well if I knew at least the basics about X, Y and Z.
In this case X Y Z would be:
X: Psychology (and where is it nowadays between “Eastern” and “Western medicine”)
Y: Mysticism (and where is it nowadays somewhere between a history of radical thinking and communal self-care) 
Z: Generational Trauma (and where is it located somewhere between DNA and sectarianism)


Danny Mekonnen’s altar in “Her Body Became an Antenna, Transmitting the Message of God”


All of these topics seem imperative right now even for my own work, but I haven’t put any of that work out into the world, only the symptoms that have come out in the form of anxiety-based artwork. Veronique seems to want the opposite of that sentiment of having ones definitions and theory in order to join a conversation, and even sidesteps these topics entirely in a practice of empathy for other ways of knowing. The first thing I thought about was if there was another culture/time/space in which her mother survives due to the sheer will of the community that she is within. Or is it the other way around, where we could exist in a culture that doesn’t stigmatize suicide, but rather see it as an option that exists for a reason, where it’s not contagious, and we celebrate the miracle of death just as we celebrate the miracle of being born. I think that for as messy as it is, Veronique maybe learned what it means to share from her mother. Once one gets past the idea that a mother that talks about her suicide to her family is no mother at all, maybe it’s worth thinking about how this compares to those that hide their symptoms and qualities of disability for the comfort of others and to their own detriment. 

Veronique shares long conversations with people where there are moments to get to know each other’s quirks, moments of humor, and moments for comparing notes and sharing information. When talking about crip and disability studies, she gave me her teaching syllabi. She tells me that maybe people with disabilities have important perspectives, a kind of usefulness. This is kind of alien to me because I’ve adopted the mantra that I have been able to pull off great things despite ADHD, not because of it. Christopher Cole also recently sent me an excerpt titled ‘Crip Emotional Intelligence’ where in one part it says, 
“The deficiency model by which most people view disability only sees disabled people as a lack, a defect, damaged good, in need of a cure. The idea that we have cultures, skills, science, and technology runs counter to all that…” 

“… Crip emotional intelligence means not taking it personally sometimes, when another disabled person is short with you, is fumbling for words, is frustrated. Instead, you must assume that they just threw up for eight hours, have been fighting suicide for a week, have cellulitis in one of their legs again… …I’m not talking about excusing verbal abuse; I’m talking about the ways we cut each other slack. I’m talking about the ways we start from the assumption that someone might be dealing with a lot of pain… 

…Is understanding that beds are worlds. Houses are worlds. Cars are worlds... 

…Is understanding that everything will break, everything will take longer than you think, the elevator will be broken at the BART station and Paratransit will be three hours late. And that these are not surprises. These are deliberate acts in a world that doesn’t value or fund access."

She sent me a link to her video for “If Every Mother Were A Saint, Heaven Would Be Full By Now. Part I”. Her voiceover had a more serious tone to it, but serious in the way that a tarot reader lays out and flips cards over one by one, seeing information rather than abstractions. I’m glad it’s a video that I can pause rewind and re-watch. There is a feel to it as if she wants to tell you that her mother died, and she wants to have the conversation that she’s interested in, not the one that ends in the same… “I’m sorry for your loss”…
Penny Arcade says in ‘The Art of Living’ “I do not share things in order to process them. By the time I reveal something on stage I have found a way to transform the experience into something else.” 

This video has ‘processing’, thinking moments. When she stops speaking sometimes there is a river of movement from the camera fixed on a wall that a train is passing by.  Other times you’re admiring the landscape in a downward view, reminiscent of being lost in thought and remembering to look someone in the eye because you’re in a conversation with them. Veronique has piercing eyes.
So I kept pulling stills from ‘Church of Art’, because at one point I was going to break down her charming and performative affect. This one illustrates the “Piercing eyes” look.

It’s hard for me to describe what’s so captivating about the performative aspects of her divulging her research. I think some part of it has to do with how she switches between different points of view, and how there are times you think you can tell when she’s incredulous of someone’s beliefs, or if she’s making fun of someone’s crazy ideas, or if she too has consumed some of the toxic honey she mentions and has entered a totally new level of research consciousness, one quite removed from reality. 

In one text, she's speaking to someone that’s only referred to as something like “The Bee Man says...” which I took as highlighting the ridiculousness of the self-mythologizing tone that many older white men covet. The title itself is a skeptical argument: “If every mother were a saint, then heaven would be full [of it]” (that addition of heaven as bullshit is my emphasis, not hers). And then she references how the shape of the fracture in her skull from her accident was EXACTLY the same size and location as a fracture in her mothers skull, and how it took place exactly 5 years and 5 days after her mother left the corporeal world, an exact amount of time dictated by bureaucratic rules in which a saints miracle must occur. And she just kind of leaves it at that. She sounds like she's applying for her mother’s sainthood in the way that someone applies for a VISA. Then in another moment, she’s making fun of her teacherly tone that pauses in all the right places for effect, self deprecating. At the same time, it could go the other way too, where we realize we are simply gullible people eating up this fiction that she’s masterfully served up.

There’s a lot to talk about in the work, even though I think that she wants the physical artwork to be 'beyond words' and be somewhat self-evident. You are meant to trace the effort in the making of the thing, the decisions she's made where an original is in relation to a mother mold, and taking in the resulting work as installed to properly relay its omnipresent kind of presence. (Footnote/Tangent 3)

What I enjoyed about trying to see more of her work was that I had to go to multiple places to get the bigger picture, and that she didn’t feel compelled to put everything into a single all encompassing show even though her research is kind of an all encompassing thing. Her video that gave clear context to the work was screened separately at someone’s personal home where the format is a potluck and conversation. The exhibition, in a space that’s part of an artist-run studio holds space for her and another artist on her invitation. I really appreciate that she tucks her work into spaces of mutual support (Footnote/Tangent 4) and that she’s always down to facilitate something meditative, reflective, possibly vulnerable. I’m assuming she’s doing really well after I read this in Francis Weller’s the Wild Edge of Sorrow:

“Through meaningful rituals, a community of friends, some time in benevolent solitude, and effective practices that help us stretch into our bigger selves, we are offered the opportunity to develop a living relationship with loss. We can recover faith and grief that recognizes that grief is not here to take us hostage, but instead to reshape us in some fundamental way, to help us become our mature selves, capable of living in the creative tension between grief and gratitude.”

Her film has some editing moments that gently disturb me, and I’m convinced it’s all very intentional. There are always subtitles which I appreciate, but at one point she says “mother” and the word fails to  appear on the screen. I hope this doesn’t eventually get edit corrected, because there’s something about when words fail that also may be something difficult to say outright, which is to say, when her mother failed her, and yet,  maybe, it is not personal… 

Near the end of the film she’s filming her grandmother. Someone once said to me that parenthood is misunderstood, that we’re not meant to fuss over the success of ones sons or daughters, but further down, your children’s children, thinking in skipped generations, and I wonder about if that bond creates an unintended middle child syndrome that is the parent… The most ominous moment in the film is when Veronique begins, "my grandmother asks me to turn off the camera so she can show me how she speaks in tongues..." “...i tell her that i have...”. She’s about to play the video recording of her grandmother speaking in tongues, so I’m bracing myself to be judgy again. This time, I'm jumping to conclusions thinking about how self-centered it is for her to use her grandmother’s sincere beliefs as a curious moment of entertainment in the piece, but instead, only a blank black screen appears for a few seconds. And it is at this moment that I realize that I’m a hypocrite, I was actually hoping to get a voyeuristic look at this older woman’s faith, while then still feeling free to chastise Veronique for doing so.

So now here are my questions. I’ll pretend that this is a genie scenario where I only get to ask three in total:

  1. Where do life-affirming beliefs (of the fictional, story-telling variety) meet a… disconnection from reality?

One recent therapist said to me that they have such disdain for “life coach” types of therapists, saying “and that’s allllright”, where getting better is synonymous with being happy, and to stop feeling so self-conscious. He’d say that we’re supposed to be self-conscious and grounded in reality! He only says about 5 things on repeat, one of which is that “he helps people feel feelings that are too painful to feel on their own.” So I think my question is kindof about the long, wordless, invisible process that is about having faith in healing, and wondering what are the stories that make up Veronique.


  1. Do you believe in spirits/ghosts/an afterlife, or do you think, like I do, that it’s a misnomer and that it doesn't exist without us projecting? 
That ghosts (or rather poltergeists) if they exist, are our inner projections out into the world, and all ‘strange activity’ is simply a result of ’stress’. Stress has always been a remarkably mysterious process, especially in the forms that it takes, and the indirect ways it seems like it must be handled, which is why I don’t think it would be a far cry that stress has magical abilities, one of which is to burrow deep into parts of the body, (The Body Keeps the Score), that yoga etc. has to work back out. Ghosts on the other hand are pretty dependent on architecture, but at some point when the sun envelops the earth, there won’t even be any ground to walk on to haunt. I can’t not see it as an anthropomorphizing of the interconnected energy that is the universe and beyond.

  1. What is it about ‘institutional spaces’? 

You mentioned briefly that western diagnosis was a fucked up way to control  people and animals , but it sounded like you knew that western diagnosis still has a place. I mentioned my appreciation of Anthropology for how it provides a set of tools for critical thinking, but it is also one of the more self-reflective disciplines today. What I couldn’t explain in that moment after your show, Rach was able to lay out for me: Sure, anthro often has a colonial context, but there was also a huge restructuring of the field in the 80s and 90s in a really deep introspective way that opened and created space for diverse perspectives and decolonized research. It was called ‘the self reflexive turn’. And this is something Anthropologists have been developing for decades. Anthropology is practiced worldwide by every nation and color, even though it was started in the West, (as were most of the research tools that have become global due to colonization) people around the world find it a useful way to understand injustice and to use its power to create a critical discourse even in their own country. Furthermore, Anthropology is about understanding how the capitalist system around us impacts the ways in which we’re asked to identify. In an act of healing, people are questioning underlying questions in society that used to be given.

In Veronique’s work, it is all about healing, and she’s not going to be anyone's martyr. (There’s a great description of Trickster energy vs the Martyr in a book called Big Magic) She works towards creating a thoroughly enjoyable process and as this long meandering writing might prove, she gives the impression that entire psychological and other worlds exist. She doesn’t just have to live in the world where bewildering coping strategies state a fact: “your mother died, so that you could live”, but instead, that sentence among others, is simply material for whatever is useful for her, and that’s a crip happy ending.

Veronique d’Entremont in the background and a detail from 'Her Body Became an Antenna, Transmitting the Message of God'. (2019). Self-portrait sculpted by the artist’s mother and re-cast in beeswax, honeycomb, steel frame, gold leaf


-- -- --

*(Footnote / Tangent 1)
The most poignant version of this is when something that I grapple with, something attached to shame, is simply cut like a red ribbon and the weight drops to the floor. Looking down on it, it doesn’t look like it was that heavy, but I know that what was so intense was the connection it had to me, this toxic slow drip, and I may look above me and see many ribbons that dictate my movements, like a puppet, but having it cut did not drop me, but if I were to cut all ribbons, I’d just crumple on the floor.

*(Footnote / Tangent 2)
If I was a totalitarian ruler, everyone would have to go to talk therapy so that there wasn’t any stigma around it, that one wouldn’t simply need to be sick to do it, and eventually it would just be that annoying thing that everyone has to routinely do, like brushing your teeth. Although there may be evidence that suicide can be a contagious idea, rather than earnestly talk about disability and illness on an everyday level, it becomes a kind of sensation on a hyper-media level, and studies have correlated that the way major media sources report on school shooting results in a ripple of copycat murder-suicides. In some countries, suicide is legal, and even there, the whole experience still pretty much sucks, but I’ve always found something unfortunate about the way we consider suicide in the U.S. as a moral failing rather than as simply sickness, pain, suffering or a representation of how well we take care of those who are disabled. Unfortunately the pro-suicide side of the US has been largely represented by a creepy Kevorkian who was probably only just as ethically flexible as those doctors who write exemption letters for religious parents. What I wish was better understood is that a lot of doctors themselves believe less in the death penalty and more on the right to commit suicide, especially for themselves. What they don’t tell patients is that at the end of THEIR lives, the last place they’d want to be is at the hospital. They wouldn’t want the experience their patients go through, instead they’d want more control, to not be in a coma while aware of being in a coma, to spend their last moments in the comforts of their own home rather than being kept alive in a sterile hospital environment. I’m sure the personal pro-life beliefs are part of a big fun bundle that definitely has an opinion about a woman’s right to choose, how people choose to be gay, how medications couldn’t possibly be necessary with so many natural remedies, and how wealth inequality is just part of God’s will.

*(Footnote / Tangent 3)
Things that are omnipresent: Memory, textures, your body in relation to things around you, your struggles, ghosts (the ones we make), the tension when trying to figure out what to do next, poetry, other people’s heavy beliefs. The reason I wanted to write out that list was because I wanted to exercise some other ways of speaking about her work that doesn’t just re-use how she already speaks about her own work. I just realized how hard it is to write a review of her work that doesn’t feel like I’m just lazily taking her turns of phrase, her content, and pretending that I came up with those revelations... I’d be surprised if no one has written about her work yet, because well… she kind of just hands you some brilliant things to put on paper which will undoubtedly appear as a super intriguing and very intimate understanding of her work: “Mysticism and Mental Health” <— that’s the title of your review right there! “Veronique says that ‘she’s learning from the bees… that the swarm has to choose you…” “… not only is the ‘mother’ mold an apt phrase here, but also in this process of casting, the original must be destroyed, reproduced in an alchemic process in which a new object is born.” “she connected the way that her father kept the skull fragment in a safe, to the altars in these small Italian towns, which supposedly containing the body of their patron saint.” “a focal point in their celebration is the re-representation and consumption of a part of the woman’s body, (grisly removed in the act of torture) amidst being martyred. Breasts that were sliced off or the way xx saint had their eyes plucked out, they become this curious thing made in their likeness, and served on a platter.“ I apologize to Veronique if I’m not doing any of her work any favors at this point, my intention is not to flaunt a kind of jokey ‘being-in-the-know’, but I’m hoping I’m getting across just how many layers there are to access and how fun it is to get into the work, and in the way that she talks about it.

*(Footnote / Tangent 4)
I’ve been wondering if there is a way to speak to how I feel like in some ways the idea of constantly needing to present a career chock full of ‘solo shows’ feels morally bankrupt? Is it unprofessional of me to say that the main reason I got into art was to make good friends, but the way we do things now makes things feel unnecessarily competitive? And why play into a system that requires a lot of labor of many hands, many minds, but instead props up the myth of the ‘individual genius’?

Here's links again to the people/spaces I touched on, but didn't name explicitly: Her video that gave clear context to the work was screened separately at someone’s personal home (Marathon Screenings) where the format is a potluck and conversation. The exhibition, in a space that’s part of an artist-run studio (Nothing Special) holds space for her and another artist (Danny Mekonnen) on her invitation.

She is always quick to point out that in the exhibition 'Her Body Became an Antenna, Transmitting the Message of God' is "a joint effort with a boston-based collaborator, Danny Mekonnen, who created the altar, the photographs, and composed the score that we all sat and listened to during the Transmission Session".

Friday, December 13, 2019

I live in LA and I barely know it

I don’t know who exactly generates the content for 5 Everyday
(I wonder when the GRI is going to collect this archive),

how long they’ve lived in LA
(surely longer than 10 years)

or how they decide what to post
(atlas abscura meets a hipster alt magazine meets quippy art review)

but whatever energy level YACHT is on and whoever puts 5 Everyday together,
it makes me feel like I’ll never be able to call myself an Angeleno,
perhaps because I can't imagine knowing about, and going to, all that L.A. has to offer.

and I’ve been going to therapy to process feelings like this,
which means that I definitely live in LA because I can relate to feeling burned out*
(and I don’t even really do anything.)
All I want to do is to talk about feeling incapable...

to be able to shut off my phone more often than not,
read more often than not,
work on art more often than not,
not be unconsciously overworking,
a default of living a precarious life.

I don't mean to associate 5 everyday with negative feelings, I really just intended to post 5 interesting things I saved from the 5 Everyday app that oooze 'LA living' that I truly enjoy for their brevity and the slice of life it captures, that everyone and anyone could have gone to:









What stories do I have? I'm not sure I have any because it feels like I'm surrounded by a semi-gossipy version of reality that is quite extreme, and some of the stories of injustice downright make me angry, and they really don't say as much about the person telling the story as much as it does a kind of unique situations one may find oneself in specifically in this city:

being invited to an infamous lesbian sex parties hosted by Mary Jean “Lily” Tomlin1,

helping strangers in court by being the witness of a hit and run (for the third time)
2,

being invited to curate a captivating political art show (that gets rave reviews) and suddenly mid-way through the exhibition, the gallery gets cold feet and decides to replace the artists you chose with other artists you didn’t choose
3,

getting swindled out of any payment after Google awards your group half a million dollars in startup game money because your partners don’t want to recognize your labor in creating all of the art for the proposal unless you can claim that you worked on the ‘actual’ game
4,

the time that you worked for Doug Christmas and he demanded that you clock out when you work for him on the weekends and that you document everything you eat because he’s maniacally trying to make sure you stay thin
5.

So obviously it's not the best thing to have had a "definite L.A. experience" (nor would I have access to any of the ones above), and I can say that it’s taken a while to feel like I'm here without needing to have something terrible happen to me...

but I’m just beginning to imagine that it's OK that if in this coming year of 2020 I never get around to 
publishing something in LA Review of Books/CARLA/Extra, putting on an event at Elephant/Human Resources/Navel.LA, making side money locally as a Consultant/Psychomagic Guide/Artist Assistant, producing an edition at Gemini, Learning for the second time how to surf/skateboard/swim in the ocean, learn how anyone makes $10,000 from a single client, fighting for homeless/immigrant/prison populations beyond just signing a petition or voting, starting my own cult, having 1,000 Instagram followers, teaching at any capacity at a college in Los Angeles... 
I'm finally beginning to beat down the FOMO... and get out, open myself up, just a teensy bit more.

I like how Adrienne Marie Brown put it6... that we must live for better metrics, and that shift from 'what we can accomplish as individuals' towards measuring in terms of the depth of our relationship with others, I’m all in. Also, I think I’m doing pretty good. One day I’m staying late at a party to help the host type up their CV (that they’re avoiding) and finding out the next day that they got a job, I’m planning a trip to Mexico City on my own, I’m commiserating with friends about our long term relationships ending, sharing in the pain and immediately taking action after a shocking sexual assault.
I’m spending more time hanging out with friends than not. 
Finding the right words more times than not. 
Being “political” more often than not, 
Genuinely apologizing and taking more responsibility more times than not.
Also, i’ll actually be unveiling an artwork, my take on L.A. FOMO, currently called “They Didn’t Go” (hopefully in January), kindof a follow up to “Chain of Artists”, and then I think I’ll be able say:

Hello, my name is Cedric Tai and I live and work in LA.




______________________

footnotes:

*Kindof a Woke Toxic Repressed I Don’t Want To Talk About It kind of thing, passed down from familial generation to familial generation, and the feelings of inadequacy and not being loved rears its ugly head because you were so excited to talk with people at a conference/invitational dinner/fundraiser  celebrating with them about your intention and ability to call people out and then never talking to them ever again because of the real pain where it seems like nothing will change, so why try to even expand one’s circle of friends if it’s not really going to turn into anything?

**At least I'm going to Mexico City soon, anxiety be damned!


1 according to a nice guy I work with, he was the only male guest at this party.

2 Tom, another guy I work with.
3 Thinh Nguyen! (I gotta dig around and see if I can find the story about it online...)

4 C'mon Archie, do the right thing.

5 The stories about Doug Christmas only get crazier, and these aren't even related to any current lawsuits.
6 Ok so the exact quote from Emergent Strategies is:

"   We would see that there's no such thing as a blank canvas, an empty land or a new idea-- but everywhere there is complex, ancient, fertile ground full of potential.
    We would organize with the perspective that there is wisdom and experience and amazing story in the communities we love, and instead of starting up new ideas/organizations all the time, we would want to listen, support, collaborate, merge, and grow through fusion, not competition.
    We would understand that the strength of our movement is in the strength of our relationships, which could only be measured by their depth. Scaling up would mean going deeper, being more vulnerable, and more empathetic."


Also, here's a bonus favorite post I saved from 5 Everyday. I'm not sure they'll ever have an archive, which is fine, but I don't know how anyone would find any of these things later...

https://www.queeringthemap.com/

Maps are power. Who draws them determines the nature of our world: our borders, the representation of our electorate, what is visible, what is navigable, and what remains unseen. As the technocrats tighten their vice-grip on the ever-more-granular mapping of our world, we appreciate moments of dynamic cartographic resistance; this summer, for example, the Black Socialists of America launched their Dual Power map, an index of every worker cooperative, small business development center, and community land trust in the US, and tonight the curators of LA’s best queer underground parties, Spotlight, launch Queer Maps, a new online resource to help track down our city’s queer spaces; the living database includes photos, advertisements, videos, and descriptions of lost nightclubs, cabarets, political sites, and meetup areas, as well as resources to visualize LA’s present-day queer landscape. At downtown warehouse NAVEL, with installations by Adrian Gilliland, Marval A Rex, Mr. Drummer 79, and Seth Bogart, performances by Freckle and Miss Barbie Q, and a DJ set by Kim Anh. 

Frolic Room

It’s a modest L-shaped shoebox off of Hollywood and Vine, lined at every available edge with red vinyl stools. There are no booths here; this is a place designed for utility drinking. The Frolic Room is the last bar in the thick of it on Hollywood Blvd, and its classic neon sticks out like a sore thumb here—surviving on 80+ years of dive bar charms and coin-slot, semi-functional alcoholism. Opposite the bar there’s a wall-length mural by Al Hirschfeld; behind the bar are expert craftsmen in vests and open collars. Bukowski drank here (where didn’t he?), and so did the Black Dahlia, on the last night of her life. It’s where a day-drinking Gena Rowlands picks up a fella in A Woman Under the Influence. It’s the last little bit of real noir on the Boulevard within a mile radius, and more important, it’s still an easy place to toss back a few in peace. 


Ed Ruscha Mural 
Kent Twitchell, the hyper-realistic muralist behind the 110 Musican Mural, made noise back in ’87 with “Ed Ruscha Monument,” a 6-story depiction of the painter standing straight up, facing the viewer. It took Twitchell 11 years to complete, painting in his spare time. Fast forward to 2006: the mural is illegally white-washed, Twitchell sues, and, after a two year legal battle, he’s awarded $1.1 million as compensation for the destruction of his artwork. Twitchell recently completed a second mural of Ruscha in the Arts District, on the side of the American Hotel on Hewitt, a fitting retribution (and return to form) for the muralist, whose new take on Ruscha has the artist older and wiser, like us all.
Flip the House Party
The Midterms are terrifyingly upon us, presenting either salvation from the slow-motion trainwreck or yet another creepy win for the voter-purging, gerrymandering deathcult that is the GOP. Are you registered to vote? Did you get your damn ballot? Even in Los Angeles, we have work to do, and as for beyond, the best thing to do is, well, dance: tonight Lincoln Heights disco The Airliner hosts a “Flip the House” party, with a solid bill of DJs (former Hole drummer Patty Schemel, Rudy Bleu Garcia, Irene Urias, and Nora Rachel) and guest performances (Pony Sweat Aerobics!) setting the tone for a ” GOP-free future where women have complete autonomy over their bodies, queers are free to be fabulous, and we work our way to basic human rights for everyone.” All proceeds raised from the cover charge, raffles, and silent auctions going down tonight will go toward Dem candidates in seven swing districts in California currently held by Republicans.

Erewhon Tonic Bar
Health food brinksmanship is the name of the game here. We are Angelenos; we are innovators. When smoothies went mainstream, we switched to juice. Then cold-pressed juice. Then soft serve made out of cold-pressed juice. When the world adopted Kombucha, we switched to Jun Tea. Let them eat cake. We have chia pods! When we want to know which wackadoodle health beverage to stake our reputations on next, we go to the Tonic & Juice Bar at Erewhon. Only a fully-licensed naturopath could completely decode the menu here, which is maddening, hilarious, and delightful: shots of fulvic acid, savory teas made of steeped rare mushrooms and pickled Japanese plums, a smoothie with chloropyll, quinton, and “three minerals of your choice,” and hot coffee blended with grass-fed ghee. A Wellness Bar Alchemist, of course, will be happy to address any confusion.


Aroma Driving Range
The country club this is not. But who needs manicured grounds and sand-traps when you have three stories of driving range weirdness built on top of a parking garage in Koreatown? At Aroma Driving Range (yes, wow, the name) you get over a hundred golf balls for twelve bucks, and they load themselves from an automatic tee at your feet, so all you have to do is focus on the ocean of green netting and whack ’em aloft. Particularly affective and futuristic-feeling in the twilight hours. If you’re a cheapskate, we recommend almost as heartily driving to the top of the neighboring parking garage and lying on the roof of your car, underneath the driving range’s expansive green safety netting. Watching golf balls sail into the night overhead has its charms. And afterwards, why not? Hit the Korean spa in the same building.