The last Blog (fahrenheit 450)

ironically, this is to be the title of my book. Changing all the names, I shall be Pierre De Chambery…all the other names will be changed. yesterday I got more flack for merely speaking about something I went through. Veiled threats. Freedom of speech , Sue me..for nothing included in this work is libelous or slanderous. It might reveal the shortcomings of some peoples actions. I am an artist, i express my experiences.

I use writing to process my world. If you happen to be in it, then of course it will influence me. especially when there has been some injustice. I woke angry and relieved. I will publish this book. Its all in my rear view mirror.

 

reflections

reflections

Sometimes you can get kind of of overwhelmed these days with moments. Life can be intense. Especially in LA. Its difficult to relax as the constant hum of the city is in the background. The hum that constantly questions who you are. A constant noise that questions what are you doing. Perhaps I will retreat to Bali on route home from Scotland. Back to Paradise, where I used to live. To remind myself.

So here I am , steering the ship of drinky draw, we have 5 high end clients. Happy customers, happy hosts, happy models. No one gets exploited in this equation. The reality of going legitimate is its expensive. All profit seems to be going back into the business to pay tax and lawyers.

Soon we will be in the black as the numbers are increasing. venues are increasing.

My dreams were turbulent last night, fueled by that flaming hot burrito I ate before bed. I was in that old place in Van Nuys: kind of relieved that I woke up in Xanadu, our house. It is a refuge, a fortress. I value what I have there. Its the first place in LA I have felt safe. After 5 years of tyranny at the mercy of other people.

Watched American Gods last night; its kind of awesome. There was some quote…along the lines of…so you think its either reality, or fantasy. One or the other. Thats it?

I contemplate this from the vantage point of Los Angeles. A city thats built on dreams, broken and otherwise.

I think it was the Tibetan Lama Trungpa said that we should consider life is like an illusion, like a cinema projector. It is all illusory. Pierre’s experience on DMT is a testimony to that. He described it as being a cosmic joke. Our existence, what we deem as important is not really that important. As an artist it can be easy to create a whole other reality and live in that. It happens all the time with people around me. In alignment to quantum physics, then there can be no separate reality. Its the Ego that creates the illusion of division. This whole fashionable business of visualization and the universe….manifesting stuff? Chanting for a mercedes. I asked my lama about this practice, he was like….why complicate things.

Whats for you wont go by you.

Tomorrow I have a lunch date with the notorious Wenzel. offering redemption in the form of a letter of support to reinstate him at the State Bar. My brother, the lawyer, would be furious. He had no compassion for Wenzel, saying he should rot. Inside everyone of us there is a Buddha. There is only so much punishment a man can take. I think thats where my brother and I are very different. He lives in a brutal world of facts. I live in this created world. DrinkyDraw was nothing but a few people in the back of a brewery. Now it is something unique created from nothing.

 

 

 

 

minimalism to maximalism

minimalism to maximalism

So by strange quirk of fate, The Studio landlord was for once not lounging about the studio, occupying himself by editing my paintings. In true form I found he had moved about particular pieces. So i just kept the momentum up and moved out all the work to the house.

It was effortless and I left some note with a diplomatic explanation about it not being cost effective. The reality was he was a control freak. I am in the rarified atmosphere where I suffer them less and less. I cant be bothered with pretentious people. Especially when they try to exert some form of control. I think he was bullied as a child.

But ancient history. Now I am surrounded by a lot of art. I am focussing on the sculptures. Submitting the series to sell on line. I am working toward a mural proposal for Angel City. Drinkydraw is becoming a real success, we have yet another client. Our clients are top shelf.

Dreams have been quite consistent, somehow referencing reality.

Today off to Covina for a date. Looking forward to the drive.

 

 

The Ivory Tower

The Ivory Tower

So I am escaping the Ivory Tower. It makes no sense financially. When the Studio, controller (controller, being the operative word), starts to move your paintings around then its time to go. I lived it…swoooshing down in the Jag, amongst the skyscrapers. But the novelty wore off.

It also means I am not paying for it on a monthly basis. After the overwhelming art walk and underwhelming sales its the right decision. So my humble home is going to be inundated with art. The house will be overflowing. Between Ian, James and myself there is a serious flow of serious artists. It will work out fine. I mean I have money. I could sustain this for quite some time. But like a good sailor I watch the telltales …all the way up to the weather systems.

Tentatively looking at the online dating scene. The same old smoke screen. It all becomes a blurr. You know you have to ease off when people are questioning whether your profile photo is really you.

Who is really me?

I think , especially the mode in LA is repackaging self. Most people who have survived more than 5 years here have had to package themselves for jobs, to survive to get ahead or say afloat. And you don’t really know someone until the storm comes. People can say they are this and that until the heat is on.

Like a blessing and a curse the Santaria priestess’s knowledge sits with me. Knowing that for the next chapter nothing serious will occur. I am not looking for emotional commitment. Not until a woman shakes my world. And so far all I could see in them were limitations ion the relationship. Moments when you understand how they see you and a protest flag is launched astern. These moments when you wake up next to her and you just look, study her and your instincts just know its finite.

I started swimming this week. It was like going to the chiropractor . realigning my battered body. Feels good. More endorphins and less beer. Although…certain nights in the sculpture studio with a few IPAs, taking stock of everything have been epic.

I need to focus on the business too. The opportunity is there, and people are coming to us.

there seems to be a type of person that comes to the local cafe ….mostly arrogant, odd, weird…the armpit of silverlake. I found a more civilized spot with parking, which is a major factor after I coughed up a kidney for a parking violation, issued by ‘officer Tibble.’ Surely he was in Top Cat.

So off to Macleod’s today. Another class. I have brought a chunk of clay. I actually have no care for drawing. Its so cerebral. I love the touch of clay. It has healing qualities. Sensual qualities.

I am going to develop “the Sculpture Circle’ One Model rotates during a 2.5 hour session.

 

 

 

 

the Hallucination of Grace

the Hallucination of Grace

Photo Credit…Here In Van Nuys

 

So it was the show this weekend. Literally thousands of people walking through the space. Mixed feelings about it. I had one solid sale and a few people kicking the wheels. But all in all seeing a whole cluster of people soaking it all up was positive. I feel over exposed today. Wondering to myself whether to continue in the space. The ivory tower.

i kind of want the clouds to clear. The clouds of delusion. I mean this is not a hobby. Then its http://www.drinkydraw.com which sustains the economy.

I appreciated the Macleod people coming down. I ┬ájust couldn’t face going back in again. That probably compromised sales. I got interviewed which was cool…on some 360 degree camera. A lot of good came out of it, however physically I feel wrecked. Back to work tonight.

My dreams were feverish last night. I remember meeting the Santaria Priestess who appeared to say that everything is going according to fate, as she mapped out. My dad was driving my car. I was painting some dark figures. I guess I just have to relax and not get too analytical right now. Just keep up the pressure on getting more venues to take the class to.

I am glad I sold the Black Box. It represents my broken marriage. So that story is complete, transcended.

The Cut and Thrust of Big City Living

The Cut and Thrust of Big City Living

like it says on the tin, my writing is a bit of a narrative to whats going on with me and the city. It’s the title of the show that’s coming up at the Artists Lofts. I am happy with the work. I have painted over the photorealistic red riding hoods. In their place a freeform, spontaneous expression. Sculpting tortured souls, and feeling healed after squeezing them out.

Perhaps I got fed up with painting a scary chick. in fact want nothing to do with them. Which is a theme in my life. As soon as I smell crazy i put my Jaguar into sports mode and get the fuck out.

I scouted a model, Mistress Lucy. Who is Kim by day and a dominatrix by night. I had a meeting about her modeling with drinkydraw. She invited me to see her performance. Being a bit shy I offered to film it and put my experience as a camera man, trained by the royal conservatoire, voted in the top 3 arts worldwide, all this experience with the BBC, masters at the screen academy.

And here I was , setting the camera to film a hot asian chick doing things to men and women. It was fascinating. What was most fascinating was behind the scenes. How beautifully, surreal, ordinary and matter of fact everything was.

the girls were chatting about husbands, comparing gadgets as if they were cooking appliances. Then when the camera rolled they launched themselves into character. Fully immersed in their roles. I knew this was pure catharsis, some sort of therapy that was completely functional. In fact it was incredibly sincere.

So I met both Kim and Mistress Lucy in one day. Kim pulls up to the brewery in a family size van, conservatively dressed and incredibly chilled and composed.

The whole vibe reminded me of Francis Bacon. looking at his painting you would expect a tortured and confused soul. However when I hung out with him he was a spirit with no demons. he was continually squeezing them out. where a majority of the populace are being led around by their demons : being pulled around like Mistress Lucy was dragging about her slave. I get it, I completely get it. It is art. Not some trendy Silverlake debutant, churning out wallpaper. This was visceral, dealing directly with the salient aspects of the human condition.

There is something completely up front and honest about this scene. It like quite a few of the girls I dated, blind side you with their madness. We are all a bit mad really. But its like going through customs at an air port.

have you anything to declare?………Yes I am quite mad.

Have you anything to declare?………yes, i am not mad (goes on to fly the plane and crashes it haunted by demons of his past.

I am really looking forward to help Mistress Lucy create her ‘mis en scene’. It will be cathartic for me.

Many relationships I have had with women have been a bit like the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang bang.

First you see the sweets covering the carriage, once you are in, the catcher pulls the lever and the facade falls to reveal you are in a prison. As I said, there is something to be said about the DMTX scene. It’s all up front, but behind masks. A kind of wonderful dichotomy.

OK Casino

OK Casino

This dating thing is a bit like going to casino. feels like the odds are in favor of the house. by the laws of probability, profiles I have perused, some of them have murdered someone. Someone is a man, someone is bi-polar, someone …..is not some fox but a guy waiting in a basement with a baseball bat and a gimp mask. These shots with chicks getting their face licked by some rescue dog, come on I know where that dog has been.

 

all these chicks that go hiking, you would think that there hiking to the donut shop.

Guess the shaman said give it up, the quest. I think thats the plan. have no plan, no agenda.

It all seems a bit contrived, unreal.

 

I dash into the studio and lay some glaze over, i need to Create subtle shift between low lights and high lights.