Bears
Sometimes when I share stories about my random L.A. adventures I feel like I'm full of shit. Sometimes I think that if I were reading this blog I would despise the author. Maybe that's just my judgmental side coming out, (or the menstrual hormones), but honestly, sometimes when I have phone conversations or email conversations with those of you who read this blog, you make comments like, "your life sounds so interesting" or something akin, and I think, really? Maybe I'm living in a bubble--well, yes, I'm definitely living in a bubble, but maybe I just don't have any concept of how often people go out? The only reason my life seems interesting is that I only write about the interesting parts. I just do my thing, and I'm blessed to have a few friends that are willing to come with me, or drag me out when I'm feeling uninspired.
Speaking of that last post, I did go out that night and it sucked rancid eggs. C'est la vie.
The weekend of October 10 was good though. Noel and Orlando, Claudia's friends from Cornell, had an art show and it was delightful. While the boys have day jobs in architecture and graphic design, they also have a creative side they wanted to showcase outside of the workplace, Our Changing Landscape was born as a result. The event was held on the first floor of an impressive condo complex in Filipino Town (near downtown LA). You could see the extraordinary amount of time and effort the boys poured into this event: the work was professionally presented, and there was plenty of cabernet and cheese. I was inspired by their motivation. Noel created furniture out of renewable materials including recycled rubber, concrete, and moss. Orlando painted and drew scenes of the ocean. They were joined by friends who showcased paintings, photographs, and drawings. The most captivating art was the work of one of Orlando's friends from graduate school. She drew an amazing series of animal bears with human "bears"; large hairy men yawned, stretched, and posed next to shaggy wild bears. The images were sincere, vulnerable, and thought provoking. John and I sought out the bear artist (whose name I forget) and picked her brain. She explained that she was drawn to "bears" after taking a gender studies class in graduate school; as a woman who struggled/struggles with her body image she saw bears as men who embrace their bodies as they are and flaunt their bodies as perfect creations. For the artist, bears are powerful sexual beings that do not fit nor attempt to fit quotidian beauty ideals. In bears she sees a confidence she feels is lacking in heterosexual women. I was fascinated by her thesis, and impressed with her passion. I had a bit of a crush. Talking to the artist, I was reminded of lit mag parties in college where you were surrounded by artists and had drunken discussions about art and petty who-kissed-who gossip. Post-college it seems all I get is the latter. Well, that's not true. We have a lot of "who am I"/life sucks/self-help drunken conversations now.
I'd arrived at the art opening with Claudia around 8PM; John met up with us about an hour later. Noel's boyfriend Daniel was painfully rationing the wine, which only further encouraged my deep-seated hoarding complex. As a result, I snatched the wine bottle when his back was turned and helped myself to a hearty pour. Within the a few hours I was weaving, as were we all. I also hadn't eaten since 3PM and helped myself to cucumbers, brie, and grapes. The event had started at 8PM. By 11PM we were heading downtown to the 107 for cheap beer and dancing. Mayhem ensued.
I'd been to the 107 a few weeks earlier when Christine was in town, and the general consensus was that it had replaced the Short Stop as the place to be for Friday night dancing. The crowd at the Short Stop, (on the weekends at least), had long turned quasi-douche. The DJ at the 107 that night was playing decent music, and we quickly got some $5 PBR tall boys and started the dance floor. We were crazy. I had never seen John that drunk before. At one point, (as I reminded him the next morning), he grabbed Claudia with such force that they both toppled to the floor, drawing the gaze of everyone in the room. We jumped and danced to MGMT, reliving our Coachella debauchery. John was jumping on us and hugging and kissing and screaming and flailing. Claudia was making out with her lesbian co-worker, I was giggling and being horribly awkward to some poor dude who was trying to pick me up amidst the mayhem. I drank about 3/4 of my PBR before I knew I was going to vomit. Later that night I puked broccoli florets and chunks of brie into my bathroom sink. It was just like freshman year in college; I still had it! I was still 19!
However, the next morning I did have that general feeling of "my god woman what are you doing with your life?" To which I reply, I don't really know. I'm just trying to write. It makes me feel good, and I hope that I always have something to write about. Good, bad, or human.
Speaking of that last post, I did go out that night and it sucked rancid eggs. C'est la vie.
The weekend of October 10 was good though. Noel and Orlando, Claudia's friends from Cornell, had an art show and it was delightful. While the boys have day jobs in architecture and graphic design, they also have a creative side they wanted to showcase outside of the workplace, Our Changing Landscape was born as a result. The event was held on the first floor of an impressive condo complex in Filipino Town (near downtown LA). You could see the extraordinary amount of time and effort the boys poured into this event: the work was professionally presented, and there was plenty of cabernet and cheese. I was inspired by their motivation. Noel created furniture out of renewable materials including recycled rubber, concrete, and moss. Orlando painted and drew scenes of the ocean. They were joined by friends who showcased paintings, photographs, and drawings. The most captivating art was the work of one of Orlando's friends from graduate school. She drew an amazing series of animal bears with human "bears"; large hairy men yawned, stretched, and posed next to shaggy wild bears. The images were sincere, vulnerable, and thought provoking. John and I sought out the bear artist (whose name I forget) and picked her brain. She explained that she was drawn to "bears" after taking a gender studies class in graduate school; as a woman who struggled/struggles with her body image she saw bears as men who embrace their bodies as they are and flaunt their bodies as perfect creations. For the artist, bears are powerful sexual beings that do not fit nor attempt to fit quotidian beauty ideals. In bears she sees a confidence she feels is lacking in heterosexual women. I was fascinated by her thesis, and impressed with her passion. I had a bit of a crush. Talking to the artist, I was reminded of lit mag parties in college where you were surrounded by artists and had drunken discussions about art and petty who-kissed-who gossip. Post-college it seems all I get is the latter. Well, that's not true. We have a lot of "who am I"/life sucks/self-help drunken conversations now.
I'd arrived at the art opening with Claudia around 8PM; John met up with us about an hour later. Noel's boyfriend Daniel was painfully rationing the wine, which only further encouraged my deep-seated hoarding complex. As a result, I snatched the wine bottle when his back was turned and helped myself to a hearty pour. Within the a few hours I was weaving, as were we all. I also hadn't eaten since 3PM and helped myself to cucumbers, brie, and grapes. The event had started at 8PM. By 11PM we were heading downtown to the 107 for cheap beer and dancing. Mayhem ensued.
I'd been to the 107 a few weeks earlier when Christine was in town, and the general consensus was that it had replaced the Short Stop as the place to be for Friday night dancing. The crowd at the Short Stop, (on the weekends at least), had long turned quasi-douche. The DJ at the 107 that night was playing decent music, and we quickly got some $5 PBR tall boys and started the dance floor. We were crazy. I had never seen John that drunk before. At one point, (as I reminded him the next morning), he grabbed Claudia with such force that they both toppled to the floor, drawing the gaze of everyone in the room. We jumped and danced to MGMT, reliving our Coachella debauchery. John was jumping on us and hugging and kissing and screaming and flailing. Claudia was making out with her lesbian co-worker, I was giggling and being horribly awkward to some poor dude who was trying to pick me up amidst the mayhem. I drank about 3/4 of my PBR before I knew I was going to vomit. Later that night I puked broccoli florets and chunks of brie into my bathroom sink. It was just like freshman year in college; I still had it! I was still 19!
However, the next morning I did have that general feeling of "my god woman what are you doing with your life?" To which I reply, I don't really know. I'm just trying to write. It makes me feel good, and I hope that I always have something to write about. Good, bad, or human.
posted by Eileen at 9:20 PM
1 Comments:
This is exactly what I wanted to see at 9 a.m. this morning. Brava, m'lady. You make my withered crunk heart beat once more.
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