One of the most poised and graceful women I know turns 30 this month.

In her honor, Mad Whip and Mr. Mr hosted an elegant dinner party.

Even before the Brazilian feast was served, we started shaking and shimming our bodies

to the DJ's superb selections. 

After dinner, someone absent-mindedly made a wreath

 from the olive branches scattered on the table.

By evening's end all of our heads were crowned

 and I saw us for what we were: 

a gathering of goddesses, celebrating one we adore.

AVERTED!

The mad frenzy to get as much done as possible before the potential strike,

was coupled with inertia, a paralysis induced with not being able to plan for the next few months.

May is a busy time at Tiny Pyro land, and the potential halt of the machinery, 

has thankfully been averted.

Relieved!  

Binge

Kerry James Marshall

According to Kerry James Marshall, "the thing that has the
greatest transformative capacity in the art world today,
in terms of what people expect to see when they go to the art museum,
is a painting that has a black figure in it, because 95 percent
of all other paintings you see are going to have white figures in them.
The whole history of representation is built on the
representation of white folks.
Now, all of that stuff is good, so you have to figure out how to
get good like that,
and then get in there on the terms that are relevant for now."

Marshall's work has exceeded good.
His retrospective at MOCA introduced me to his body of work.
Layers and layers of symbolism
reference slavery, black history in America, master painters and inequality.
His palette is arresting, as is his message.

The 14th Factory

Carizzo Plain

The promise of unending fields of wildflowers

motivated us to set the alarm for 7am on a Saturday morning 

and embark on a 3 hour road trip to Carizzo Plain.

The hyped superbloom did not disappoint.

In fact, it surmounted expectations with patchwork hills in yellow and purple,

acres of swaying grasses, and glorious clouds casting shadows across the plains. 

After a late afternoon hike in the Tembler Range

we were ready for a picnic dinner at the only motel for miles.

Positive yelp reviews described the accommodations as charming and rustic.

At 6pm our room still wasn't cleaned which was shocking

because when we finally checking in after a picnic in the car,

the bathroom floor was littered with trash, the tub was etched with a grimy stain, and the 

threadbare sheets looked soiled.

I don't need fancy, but I do need clean and mattress with a set of springs.

A romantic evening in a quaint motel turned into a three hour drive back to Hollywood.

Glitches happen, a good test for how we deal with the unexpected.  

We both rolled with it, not willing to let the extraordinary day with Mother Nature

be dampened by a seedy motel and creepy concierge .

East Coast Juant