When I lived in Los Angeles for the first time; I was there from about late 1991 to early 1998. It was a time in my life that was pretty amazing. But it was also fraught with a lot of challenge. Like all of them. Career, living space, income, health...you name it. The career one was The Big One. The One That Wasn't Going My Way. It finally reached a point of critical mass for a number of reasons; so I left Lakeshore Entertainment/Paramount Studios where I thought all of my Dreams in The Great Big Dream Factory were going to come true. I quit my job with no back up plan. I was officially unemployed. But I loved my little apartment. It was a Godsend. One day I looked around my living room and thought: "I'm going to turn this into an art studio." But I had reservations. Why did I have reservations? Well, because I didn't think I was good enough to be an artist who called himself an Artist and did whatever it is that Artists do; which, I suppose, is create Art. But then, screw it, I thought. Why not? What have I got to lose? I cleared a corner of the small living room (which was most of the apartment) and moved my "art stuff" into it. Here is what it looked like, for the short time it was an art studio (I moved back to Massachusetts shortly after I did this):
From left to right, I will describe what we're looking at: Paint color tests for shades of orange. Above that, a portrait of me from when I was a nude model, done by my friend from college, David Adae. A foldout from National Geographic magazine of the newly restored Sistine Chapel ceiling. Below that, left to right: a nude portrait in black and white of my friend Joel Craig. Buzz Aldrin on the moon with the American flag. A photo of Douglas Fairbanks from either Robin Hood or Zorro. A photo I took off the televison of Tippi Hedren and Sean Connery in Marnie (1964). Below that, a painting in progress called "Good Night, Sweet Prince" (more on that later). Above that, a painting on paper based on a photo I took in the 80's: a skull with a raven. Figure of woman, charcoal on paper (more on that later). Color test for blue.
One of the magical things about the internet, is that we can look at things in a way that we couldn't in the past. Do you ever wonder about your childhood home, if you no longer live there...who lives there now? What does the room you grew up in look like today? Or some apartment you lived in, like 1316 and 1/4 Westerly Terrace? Well now, in many cases you can look at it with just a few clicks on a keyboard. Like, we can look at that very wall today, decades later, and see what it looks like:
One of the magical things about the internet, is that we can look at things in a way that we couldn't in the past. Do you ever wonder about your childhood home, if you no longer live there...who lives there now? What does the room you grew up in look like today? Or some apartment you lived in, like 1316 and 1/4 Westerly Terrace? Well now, in many cases you can look at it with just a few clicks on a keyboard. Like, we can look at that very wall today, decades later, and see what it looks like:
And there it is. The wall behind where they've placed the TV. I wonder if that's the same smoke detector. Do you think a woman lives there? Or a man? Or some combo thereof? Whoever it is certainly likes the "Danish Modern" aesthetic. I know I'm a fan; but a little goes a long way.
So what is the point of all this, you ask? Well, I think the point of it is that once I made that decision to claim myself an "Artist" and create a "studio" in order to do it in, something changed. For the better. After a hiatus in Boston for the better part of 1998, I returned to Los Angleles and it was a whole different ball game. I actually did start creating Art on a regular basis. I started writing with more determination. I started acting. I formed a theater company. I wrote a novel...
In other words, I wasn't sitting around waiting for someone else to make the decision that I was, in fact, an Artist. I wasn't subjecting myself to the literal gatekeepers of the world and when you think about it, could you find a more famous gate than this one?:
So what is the point of all this, you ask? Well, I think the point of it is that once I made that decision to claim myself an "Artist" and create a "studio" in order to do it in, something changed. For the better. After a hiatus in Boston for the better part of 1998, I returned to Los Angleles and it was a whole different ball game. I actually did start creating Art on a regular basis. I started writing with more determination. I started acting. I formed a theater company. I wrote a novel...
In other words, I wasn't sitting around waiting for someone else to make the decision that I was, in fact, an Artist. I wasn't subjecting myself to the literal gatekeepers of the world and when you think about it, could you find a more famous gate than this one?:
But on looking back on this, I'm also struck by what I guess we can call ADAPTATION. If you can learn to adapt; yourself, sure; but also circumstances and your attitude toward them and actual things, themselves. Like that painting front and center in the picture of my studio. It's title was "Good Night, Sweet Prince." So, let me take you through the process of what it was that I wanted it to be. What it wasn't. And then, what it became. So, my initial thought about this project was along the lines of...ah, a painting of a woman, mourning at the gravesite of someone famous, that she may have known. Something that brings to mind a sort of melancholy about dreams deferred. Mortality. Something like that. Then, I started thinking about Hollywood and Stars who had been huge in their day and were now kind of forgotten. I thought about Douglas Fairbanks, the Tom Cruise of his day and his memorial at The Hollywood Cemetery. How about a woman grieving there?
So, I went and took pictures of Fairbanks gravesite. And then I found an old Modess ad that featured a woman I found startlingly striking; so I made a slide of her:
So, I went and took pictures of Fairbanks gravesite. And then I found an old Modess ad that featured a woman I found startlingly striking; so I made a slide of her:
Then, I felt the compostition needed balance; so how about a gargoyle? So I found a picture of one from Notre Dame and introduced him (her? they?) into the proceedings.
And then I started painting. And then I lost it. "Losing" a painting is a phenomenon which is sort of akin to writer's block. You reach a point where it stops flowing. You're not happy with it. You walk away for a while to reconsider. Sometimes you can come back and finish. And sometimes you simply can't. You've lost it. However, I did rather like the mostly finished element of the Modess lady; so I literally cut her out of the frame and then reframed her. So, the canvas became just her, on an elongated frame, much like herself. She and I adapted. And we were both much happier. I gifted her to my friends Joel and Donavan and they hung her in their front entrance hall. They told me that a lady friend of theirs was looking at it once and she remarked that it reminded her of the opening credits of Bewitched. This made me very happy; as I'd always loved that show and its' animated opening, in particular.
I guess ultimately, what I'm trying to say here is...don't wait for someone else to validate your dreams. Your parking, sure (although I have some great stories about that for another blog (the parking part)); but not your dreams. One of my favorite lines from moviedom is "Don't Dream It. Be It." from Rocky Horror. And that's literally it. Be it. Even if there's nobody else saying that you actually are "it." Even if somebody is saying you're not good at "it." And what a great message that is!
I think this message is why the movie has had such staying power.
I started watching the documentary Brats by Andrew McCarthy last night. I just learned he's a Sagittarius! So, I was rapt (and enraptured). I "came of age" around the time those movies came out. And I was a fan. So I've got a lot to say about it. And say it I will! I think that will have to be my next blog. And then, with God as my witness, I am going to finish my Hallmark X-Mas Flick: Cumming Home for Christmas. But in the meantime, back to 1314 and 1/4 Westerly Terrace. Here are a few more pics of the interior when I lived there:
I started watching the documentary Brats by Andrew McCarthy last night. I just learned he's a Sagittarius! So, I was rapt (and enraptured). I "came of age" around the time those movies came out. And I was a fan. So I've got a lot to say about it. And say it I will! I think that will have to be my next blog. And then, with God as my witness, I am going to finish my Hallmark X-Mas Flick: Cumming Home for Christmas. But in the meantime, back to 1314 and 1/4 Westerly Terrace. Here are a few more pics of the interior when I lived there:
The above is to the left of the door seen in the recent photo. Those french doors were hidden behind some awful 60's style panels which I pulled off and discarded (without the landlord's permission!) I was in the process of scraping to repaint when these were taken. I never finished the job. These doors fronted a large closet space, which I'm not sure if they were original to the apartment; but I think they were. The construction was old, old-school solid. Apparently, that entire wall closet has been removed, which really begs the question, where do you put your belongings; because the other two "closets" held next to nothing. People in the 20's must've not owned as much clothes as we do now. Or much of anything, really.
I can easily recognize and point out many of the items in the above photo, as I still have most of them. Shall I? Why not, as this is becoming a bit of modern archaelology, is it not? On top of the book shelf, we have...
A Ralph Lauren gift box in his "Sandalwood" pattern, which probably contained potpourri or a scented candle and which I more than likely acquired at the Polo store on Rodeo Drive when I worked there. A Samsonite faux alligator suitcase:
A Ralph Lauren gift box in his "Sandalwood" pattern, which probably contained potpourri or a scented candle and which I more than likely acquired at the Polo store on Rodeo Drive when I worked there. A Samsonite faux alligator suitcase:
Next shelf down: Mars Attacks! figures. Next shelf down: A picture of my niece, Kasey. A card from somebody with Curious George on the front:
Next shelf down: various and sundry scripts and one of my favorite photgraphs of myself, taken by my friend Paul:
Hey, I never said I wasn't my own biggest fan (somebody's gotta be, am I right people?). Next shelf down, more assorted papers and the white envelope facing out contained the materials neccessary for obtaining my Irish citizenship, which, did take forever; but I now proudly have!
On the desk: a manual typewriter which I never used much as it hurt my fingers and I was a lousy typist. I think I gave it to my friend Scott. Stack of books; #5 down. The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. I was kinda in to it for a little while. She was married to Marty Scorsese for a time.
On the desk: a manual typewriter which I never used much as it hurt my fingers and I was a lousy typist. I think I gave it to my friend Scott. Stack of books; #5 down. The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. I was kinda in to it for a little while. She was married to Marty Scorsese for a time.
On the shelf (and the doorway to the kitchen is between the bookcase and the shelf, to the left): print of Warhol's "Flowers." Empty Halston cologne bottle(?) designed by Elsa Peretti. Classic Jesus bodega votive candle. Mrs. Butterworth pancake syrup bottle as candle holder. Disney Sleeping Beauty mug from Disneyland (that film being one of my top three all-time favs!):
Blonde wood sewing box. Ikea? Yeah, probably. Finally, on the wall is a framed cover of the Castro Cinema's Fall '96 Calendar/Newsletter(?); featuring a still from Hitchcock's Vertigo (1958).
And if that movie is not a filmed dream, I don't know what is. So, that concludes our tour. And all of this, puts me in mind of this:
Oh, and here is the original photography that painting is from:
Oh, Sleeping Beauty seems to be a theme here, what with the raven; one of which figures into that movie quite prominently:
I remember one time my friends and I, in L.A., were having one of our "Creativity Nights." We'd get together and make ourselves be "creative." My friend Stephen had a habit of sort of comandeering these evenings (he was the one that got me into The Artist's Way; and if I'm being honest, kind of steamrollered me into it). Anyhow, one of the exercises was that we had to right down our ten favorite movies off the top of our heads. Then, when finished, look over the list and see if there was a theme; particularly with the top three. Now, I love all kinds of movies; but the ones that I consider my favorites are the ones that I find myself watching and rewatching, no matter how much time goes by; and never, ever, tiring of them. The top three were Disney's Sleeping Beauty (1959), Coma (1978), and Logan's Run (1976). And it hit me. The theme was sleep. Or perhaps, more precisely, unconsciousness. Or, perhaps, subconsciousness. And the heroes, in those movies, are all fighting (in some way); to restore consciousness. But the thing is, I love to sleep. Because I love to dream. Because I think dreams are in some way, literal experiences. I'm not going to elaborate on that. Maybe it will give you something to smile/think about as you drift off to sleep yourself...perchance, to dream.
CFR 6/19/24