Is there really anything like an opening night? Whether for a drama or an opera or an art gallery, there is always fabulous energy and excitement. I am delighted to be part of California Dreaming, featuring sculpture and drawings and paintings, at Dorado 806, once again this year. Being around artists, who support and encourage each other, and seeing your art in the myriad of expressions, just feels like the family you always wanted.
In a world of glossy finished products, of Masterpieces by Masters and Pulitzers by Award-winners and a long list of really great Greats preceding us all, it can take a bit of blind courage, intentionally dedicated time and a dash of wild ecstasy to allow your own creativity to bubble up and out. Each creation reveals a small piece of your lived life and a bit of your private heart, but most of all whatever it is that you produce is an expression of your pure joy. Walking into someone’s painting studio or craft workshop or writing room or gallery space can feel like entering another’s way of being. I invite you to come along into my creative private and public avenues.
Most everyone can recall the moment they landed in the City of Angels, at least this is true of those of us born elsewhere. I arrived in the mid-1970’s with my head filled with all the dreams one might imagine a recent high school graduate to hold, expecting the whole world to dance along side of me. Living high above the bustle of Hollywood Boulevard, I stood on my balcony envisioning an upward trajectory as far as the stars in the night sky. Everyone had such dreams. Waiters were dancers, bartenders were writers, bus drivers and store clerks and front desk gals all aspiring actors. We nodded passionately as we passed each other in our day to day, believing that everyone’s aspiration could be realized with each affirmation. Ram Dass’s Be Here Now, already battered and earmarked, gave us the right to declare this was our moment, our now. One could feel the dynamic currents in the expanse of a cobalt blue sky and the fanning of the feathery palms overhead as you drove along the curves of Sunset Boulevard straight through the Palisades to the broad Pacific coastline. What couldn’t we do here? Possible was a battle cry being shouted by everyone in the city, a beautiful star-studded La-La Land of guarantees. A community that applauded each other with giant billboards and kind reviews. There were no impossibles.
Nine Cent Girl 