Le Weekend

...it was busy busy busy.

I was honored to be asked to perform for Molly Keogh, an artist who makes dresses in conjuction with Andrea Zittel's Smockshop. The performance was called "On Her Dress She Wears a Body" - five girls interpreting five different dresses through movement as shapes five separate times, making a star configuration. We performed at the Regen Projects booth at ArtLA.

I was asked by a friend, and I jumped right in even though I've not performed in front of an audience since May 2001, and even though I've not stretched or excercised since October 2007. I did it because I wanted to make sure that my balls were as big as I thought they were, or at least as big as my mother's. It has been confirmed. I do indeed have quite large balls. Now I'm performing a piece for an artist on Saturday at Machine Project in Echo Park. Now we'll see if I have what it takes to handle these balls. Okay, you know what, scratch that. I really wasn't trying to innuendo at all, just trying to be clever, and of course, it backfires...

So there was the fair. I didn't make it to LA Art - no money. If I weren't involved in anything at ArtLA I wouldn't have made it there, either. I really enjoyed myself, even though it was a little cramped. There were people and galleries from all over. I really like how a lot of the galleries made use of the limited space that they had. It was like installing the different galleries became an installation show in and of itself. Of course, there was bad art represented. But there was also a lot of good stuff, and I ran into a lot of old USC classmates. We're all over. During a stroll I was taking, I overheard this guy speaking loudly into his cell, "...yeah, I'm at the fair. Looking at at what's here makes me feel much better about my art." Stupid stuck-up attitudinal (another word creation) tactless BOY. It's true, about one-third of the art there made me feel better about my art, but you don't see me yelling it into my cell phone at a crowded art fair, making sure that somebody notices how cocky I am. Stupid boy.

After the performance Saturday, I went home and rested - I swear I think I pulled a back muscle. And then I had to get myself all spruced up and thangs for the solemn business of knocking back wine and hors d'oeuvres and looking important at gallery openings in hopes that the PR people will want to buy ad space in the magazine. I visited Corey Helford, Blum & Poe, LA X Art, Sandroni Rey, the Mandrake bar, Angstrom, and Honor Fraser with the 'SC homegirls Kate and Peg. We're gonna start a gang.

After that, I met up with my good friend Mike/Miguel and his cousin Ishmael, and we headed over to my friend's tattoo/piercing party. I'm very fortunate to have made good male friends here in LA, and even though I'm usually one of maybe 4 or 5 girls at his parties, I never feel uncomfortable at JB's parties. And as usual, I was the only one who wouldn't hit the blunt...

Sunday was also a great day - after bible class, I went to the information meeting where I found out more about the performance piece I'll be participating in Saturday. Then, I had to man the Artillery booth for a couple hours at ArtLA again - met a lot of cool people. My homegirl Brooke is obsessed with my aunt's recipe for corn pudding, so I went over her apartment and made her some as we watched The Wire. And by the way, what a great show! I usually feel intellectually superior because of my lack of ownership of a television set, but there are a few really great shows that I'm missing out on.

Like The L Word. I looooooooooooovvve The L Word, it's sooooooooooo good! Now I know what lesbian sex is! But seriously folks, despite the fact that they paint the lesbian world as endlessly glamourous consisting only of amazingly gorgeous women, the writers delve into really deep issues and go all the way, never flinching. And how about last night??! Don't want to spoil anything, but I'm keeping hope alive for Bette and Tina. I usually watch the show with a friend of mine who's still at USC and her group of friends she refers to loosely as "The Lesbians". My homegirl is a woman-eater. As in opposite of man-eater, you prurient gutter-minds. Anyway, we had a good time yelling advice to the TV screen and cheering and booing.

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