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Generalissima Bellissima

New Painting
Oh yeah, that's the little General Isabella in camouflage. She is Valerie and Stan's little girl all ready to fight the good fight. Standing guard, standing as if wet, standing as if sitting, sitting as if sleeping - and always ready to bite your ankles. Like any good little muppa should.

Letter To A Director

January 28, 2004

Dear Mr. Flemming,

I saw this great movie last night called HANG YOUR DOG IN THE WIND. I admit, it was a borrowed copy, probably a copy of a copy. Which brings me to my question how can others see this movie? I've checked my Netflix, Blockbuster, 20/20, Rocket, etc. Nowhere to be found. I have some computer skills, so I did some research and found that you had this movie in some festivals as you did your other fabulous movie, Nothing So Strange. I found Hang Your Dog to be so incredibly funny and the actors so very fresh. I know one might think that it was practically a period piece, depicting a weekend in the lives of some no-gooders in the late nineties, but the feelings that the characters portray transcend the millennium. In fact, I believe the youth today is more bored than ever and we can still identify with these twenty-somethings whether we've grown up or are still floundering. Some of the scenes made me laugh out so loud I had to stop the tape and rewind it. I am not often a laugh-out-loud kinda gal. Am I missing a whole slew of great films out there or in your closet? What else do you have up your sleeve? Please tell me how my friends and family and the rest of the people who are savvy to great but little movies can see this little but great film.

Yours truly,
Nora T. Murphy

Weekend Wound Up II

On the itinerary for the weekend of January 24th, 2004 was the Chinese New Year Celebration. I took the metro down to Union Station where I crossed the street over to Olvera and met friends for Mexican food and beers.

From Little Tijuana, we stepped across the way to Chinatown for the parade and lots of firecrackers.

What a day of sensory overload. From the mariachis to the marching bands, from the dragons to the marcial artists chopping their way through cherry colored smoke bombs.

Chris W. and I hung out for a few after the parade and wandered around the center of Chinatown, covering our ears from the relentless firecrackers. We almost found solice at Hop Louis bar but I say almost because the cantakerous bartender was in no mood for the crowd he had. He had a bar-back doing literally nothing and about thirty people at a time ordering mai tais. Chris and I were ready for a fight with a couple drunkies who were tossing off popper crackers, one of which did not explode but bounced off Chris's cheek. Other than those annoyances, we had plenty of good people watching and I ran into an old friend from our Frolic Room days who updated me on a bit of gossip.

Very exhausting day and a slow trip back on the subway where I too could've done some snoozing like that guy, but the sounds of firecrackers were still ringing in my head.

Weekend Wound Up

We started the weeknd at The Pig 'n Whistle. It was so crowded we moved on to our old friend The Frolic Room where we were served by a couple of other old friends, Reuban and Joel. Those two have been behind the bar for well over a decade and somehow haven't aged a bit. Their memories are just as sharp as their appearance and they greeted "Norita" like I had been there the day before.

We then walked over to the Hotel Cafe to see our friends band, C-Duck and Nate. I have never seen a room this packed for an 8 'o clock show. They tried to say it was because of the headliner Jim Bionco, but he wasn't going on until two hours after. Maybe it was because the room was semi full of twenty something females that knew Nate from their teen years, watching him grow into adulthood on Sabrina The Teenage Witch. WHICHever - their set was well received indeed. They have since been asked back to the Hotel Cafe so I will report when and where you can find their Tom Waitsian / Michael Nesmithish tunes and their Minnesotan good looks.

C Duck & Nate

Chalupas For Everyone

Thanks to Southern Wine & Spirits, David snagged a couple of Laker tickets for an all LA shootout last night. Premier Level seating which meant in-seat food and beverage service which meant some yummy garlic fries for me and a mighty Jody Maroni sausage for DJ.

Despite just barely winningagainst the Clippers, the Lakers looked like a team of yore, in between championship years, struggling with newcomers after the stars had departed with their handfuls of rings. This time, the stars (minus Shaq) were on the sidelines injured, wondering like everyone else what is going to happen when they come back.

I have commented before in these pages that every time I catch Dyan Cannon on TV during a Laker game, she's eating. Well, there she is, mouth full....

Who would have thought that Slava Medvedenko (or Miss Gredenko, as I like to call him) would be the leading scorer in any game, or the most regaled? Well, thankfully he was and that meant that our losing streak - ours meaning me and David, had ended. Every game we'd been to previously, they'd lost. This time they not only won, but they kept the Clippers score under 90 points (end score was 91-89) and that meant Taco Bell gave out coupons for free Chalupas to everyone in attendance. We gave one coupon to a guy on the subway who asked us who won.

David was also handed coupons to a new gentlemen's club. Maybe that's where Shaq was. I love LA.

Project Hard Rock

I was contacted a month ago by a comedian friend of mine whose next door neighbor is an art curator/interior designer or something of that nature. She's been working with the architects of the soon to open Hard Rock Hotel in Tampa, Florida, getting it outfitted with artwork from top to bottom. The last thing on their agenda is the restaurant which will be called THE GREEN ROOM. As in - where the talent hangs out before "going on". They wanted to do something other than rock stars since they've pretty much done it to death. So they thought - comedians. I gathered years of proof sheets for her but in the end, only a few comedians are really of rock star status, so they eventually scratched the idea. However, they are thinking of reinturpreting another theme into abstract images and I will be busy for the next couple days photographing (on spec) and manipulating a certain object for presentation. Okay, immature ones - get your heads out of the gutter. That's already been done. This is a family restaurant.... Any guesses? I don't want to count my chickens, so I don't want to say at this point, but whatever, it'll be an interesting series for me when I'm done, sold or not.

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Torah, Torah, Torah!

I went to a Bar Mitzvah yesterday. I was there as guest and photographer. My friend Liz of seventeen years invited me to capture her sonÕs passage into manhood. Having met Liz on a really horrible movie called Death Spa and then working together again on another couple really crappy movie called Munchies and Silent Assassins (she was the costumer, I was props), and having gone to her wedding, I knew this event wouldnÕt be overly traditional.

Liz told me that her son Joe had wanted to go through being Bar MitzvahÕd. It was all his idea. This presented only a minor problem since they donÕt belong to a synagogue. Most of them are booked far in advance for these things, but lo and behold they found Kol Ami, the gay and lesbian temple in Hollywood to offer them the date. The gay and lesbian temple doesnÕt have many of these proceedings; in fact Liz was almost certain it was their first.

Sure the actual ceremony was sometimes boring Ð it was two hours long. I overheard some of the old-timers lamenting after that -you seen one, you seen Ôem all. But for some reason it felt different because of the familyÕs genuine closeness and humor. JoeÕs 150 prayer books were handmade to look like a screenplay (and just as long), as was his invitation. He put his friendÕs superhero artwork in it along with song lyrics along with quotes from the likes of Albert Einstein and Judy Chicago. When I was twelve, thirteen I went to a handful of Bar Mitzvahs. It seemed back then that all my boyfriends were Jewish. I remember the temple being very traditional, stuffy and oh so serious and the boys having been through a hellish learning process to get to the alter. But what a payoff! These guys raked in so much dough and the parties after are still legendary Ð I wanted to be a 13-year-old Jewish boy!

JoeÕs reception was held at White Lotus - a Chinese restaurant in Hollywood. Beautiful. The roped bread (I donÕt know what itÕs called) that is traditionally tore into by everyone as a blessing during the toast, sat in front of a gigantic Buddha. We had sushi Ð Kosher no doubt. Dumplings, broccoli in oyster sauce, bao, salmon, etc. One old man talked my ear off (his wife told me not to listen to anything he said) about photography and another told me I looked like Julie Andrews. The day was topped off by a film made by Joe and his father. ItÕs Hollywood after all. Starting with a comic sequence of Joe being chased through the streets of Los Angeles by a runaway torah, it went on to tell the story, through old footage, of the two families that came together to create Joe and his sisters. Narration was by his father which included the line, ÒYes, thatÕs a Christmas tree.Ó Lots of laughs but there wasnÕt a dry eye in the house.

It was a remarkable day. L'Chaim!

4th Annual Party @ Cafe des Artistes

It was Bridgette's 33rd birthday and once again she and her friends gathered at Cafe des Artistes for libations and cake. That girl knows how to rake in a load of presents, I tell ya.

Bridgette is also celebrating her first year in business with a line of baby tees called mighty politey. If you are in the market or know someone with a tiny tot, give a look at some cute attire.

But You've Got To Have...

Friends. It is a broad term isnÕt it? Without going into the definition of the word by Los Angeles standards, I believe that it is generally overused. I am pondering this now because I was recently reminded of events revolving around an old friend who sent out Christmas cards that vaguely resembled an attempt at making amends. She was a very close friend in high school. We were tight for four straight years. Many of us who graduated together still communicate and gather despite our proximities and highly different lifestyles. So close, humorous and unchanged are these people that I started videotaping us whenever we got together starting at our most recent reunion and cutting it into some semblance of a movie.

Two years ago, a few of us gathered on Catalina and were surprised to find X had pretty much invited herself along but insisted it be kept a secret until her grand entrance. Now, I had made attempts many times to socialize with her since high school but it always seemed to end in her badgering me, interrogating me and telling stories about me in high school that seemed somewhat skewed. Believe me my memory ainÕt what it used to be and there were plenty of stories to tell, but somehow her take on things never made me look very good. I kept coming to the conclusion that perhaps she just didnÕt like me but didnÕt know it.

Alas, the other women in the group would always shrug her behavior off and say, ah, thatÕs just X, but we love her. Increasingly, I was disbelieving. It took me two years to view the videotape that I captured in Catalina of all of us. I knew what was on it, even if a day after the event, the others, except for the host, were shrugging it off again. Nope. I knew, after looking at the footage finally this last Sunday that if she liked me or not, I just plain didnÕt like her.

Of course, with this knowledge brings the question Ð what do you do about it if anything. Some people believe in closure in these types of situations. Perhaps if everyone put everything on the table the world would be a better place. But donÕt the people involved deep down know whatÕs wrong? IÕve always joked that I forgive but I donÕt forget. IÕm pretty exhausted doing that with X. I think there comes a point that the past becomes just that. Just because we have a strong history doesnÕt mean we have to sustain a false present or future, right? No?

I was invited to a birthday party tonight for a gal that I havenÕt seen since her last birthday party. She has a ton of friends, we don't have a ton of history. We could've flaked on each other but itÕs just so refreshing to see people that are nice if only for an hour a year. IÕd define that as a friend.

Stanley

I Know Chicago & You're No Chicago

Yesterday, Saturday the 3rd, I walked myself down to the Arclight to meet my friend Chris and see a movie. I knew a block from my house I should've brought a hat. It was windy. It was cold for Southern Cal. Walking heated me up, but I knew by the time the movie was out, it'd be even colder. After seeing "Big Fish" we got in Chris's car in anticipation of going to The Frolic Room for a beer. His battery was dead. He'd left his lights on the day before during the 20 hour rain. He'd jumped it before meeting me but it didn't hold. We walked to The Frolic Room, about four/five city blocks. It was cold. After a beer with the local yocals, we went on our merry ways. I walked another twelve blocks to meet David at the Pig 'n Whistle and Chris went to deal with his car. It was dark now and the wind had picked up and the air cooled down. It was probably 40 degrees but the Chicago-like wind chill made it feel about thirty. I had my scarf wrapped around my head and my down coat zipped up. My muscles were tightening up. There were several times that the wind actually pushed me back or to the side. It made me feel like I was passing the Sears Tower in winter.

During our feast of Happy Hour food at the Pig, Chris called and told me that he rolled the car down to the main level of the Arclight lot, but couldn't pop it into starting. While waiting for AAA, he put his hood up and got the cables out, but alas, was shunned for a long time before someone finally offered him a jump. He lamented - in Chicago if your hood was up, every single person passing would stop and offer help. In LA the attitude is- fuck that guy. Why can't he get the hell outa my way. Too true. Though the air yesterday was like Chicago, the human airs were far from it.