Back from France and 10 times dumber….

I really really wanted to post something on here before I left for the “Fusion 5 Festival” in Cannes, France… but there was just no time. The term “shot out of a cannon” doesn’t even begin to cover it. And the internet connection there was shotty at best so I had no time to give updates while I was there…. but now I’m back with the whole story.

All in all…. the festival was AMAZING!!! We stayed at this indescribable hotel right by the beach called 3.14 (click on the link to see photos of it… it’s pretty unreal). We ate massive amounts of the most fancy pants food on the planet, gallons of booze was constantly poured down our throats (though noone really objected… one of the festival’s sponsors was Absolute Vodka, so that was pretty much all we drank), and were bombarded by press and photographers (which was interesting seeing as we were all pretty drunk the whole time). Our individual gallery spaces were in each of the rooms we were staying in, so there was the daily scramble to get all our dirty clothes off the floor and hide the drunken tumblings from the night before so it would be hidden from the eyes of the press and buyers. But here are a few photos (the rest are on my flickr page… there would be more, but because of the previously stated constant drunkenness- they are worthless):

this is a little part of the hotel lobby. i really wanted to start a game of dodgeball with those gigantic ball-pillows… but i got drunk and forgot (which is probably a good thing)

and here are some of the rooms……

and here is MY room (i squealed like a cracked out mental patient when I saw it… it couldn’t have been more perfect)

We were taken to crazy French discotecha’s and danced to the most eclectic collection of 1980′s hits I’ve ever heard, didn’t get more than 2 hours of sleep each night, and all became the best of friends.

Right now I’m experiencing the worst jet lag on the planet (which is a first for me because I NEVER get jet lag), and Sully was sent home sick from school so I’m having to take care of him while dealing with a serious case of brain-mush. My house was destroyed over the week by my 2 messy boys… and added to this mix with the fact that all 12,000 members of “The World Inferno Friendship Society” stayed here while I was away (though the mess didn’t come from them- it was all Brad and Sully’s doing). I still can’t seem to scrub the “flight stench” off me from the 16 hour trip home, and my cats are taking turns attaching themselves to my lap because they were terrified that I wasn’t ever coming home (which is an understandable terror- considering Brad won’t ever clean the litterbox).

Off I go to stumble around and try to clean. When I remember more of what happened during my trip, I will tell more stories. .. stories of me setting my hair on fire… stories of 70 year old frenchmen forcing me to ballroom dance with them and then trying to get me to go to the bathroom with them to do lines of coke, stories of how to gracefully escape Italian men who want to know if I also have tattoos on my vagina… etc. For now, I’m dead on my feet.

PS……

you can see more about the even at www.Juxtapoz.com (or just click HERE)…. just scroll down until you see the articles about the Fusion 5 Festival in Cannes, France! YAY!!!

Douchebaggy futuristic dumbness and new art…..

I was never into The Matrix. Mainly because Keanu Reeves makes me want to scream and tear my hair out. He’s a terrible actor (with his only believable roles being in the “Bill and Ted” department- which is where he should have stayed), and bland looking at best. I had a boy once take me on a first date to go and see “Johnny Mnemonic”… and after that I never returned his phone calls because any guy who is into that kind of nightmarish embarrassment is no fella for me. But put aside the Keanu Reeves bullshit… The Matrix spawned the acceptability of long leather cloaks, bad vinyl pants, and clip-on sunglasses. These are all things that make me convulse and gag. So I shunned it and never looked back.

Until last week. Last week Brad brought home “The Matrix: Reloaded”. Holy fucking shit… that is quite possibly the most terrible movie I have ever seen in my life (and I’ve endured movies like “A Gnome Named Gnorm” with Anthony Michael Hall- if you haven’t seen it, you really really should… it’s amazing in it’s embarrassing horror). If by the year 2200 raves are not only still in existence- but the norm in human celebration ritual… then there is no hope for us. I don’t think I have ever screamed so much at my TV in my life… I was rooting for the robots to win just to eliminate the the amount of fashion debacles and “Mountain Dew”-like X-treme cultural displays.

So in the spirit of hate, last night Brad and I found the first and third Matrix movies on bargain-discount… so we bought them. Brad loves to hear me go off in a frenzy over bad movies or cultural enigmas, so this should be fun. I’ll keep everyone posted.

Aside from Keanu and his lameness… in 10 days I leave for Cannes, France. I’m quite excited about this. I’ve been to Paris, and few of the little towns surrounding it… but never to Cannes. Because of the GLORIOUS Strychnin Gallery, I get to be a part of the Fusion 5 Festival. This is huge, and I’m nervous. I get weird at big social events, and never know where to put my hands, and am all-too aware of all my awkwardness. I usually just end up getting drunk… at least that way, if I make an ass of myself I can blame it on the booze and I won’t even really remember any humiliation the next day. But I’ll be there for a week, and I can’t stay drunk the whole time…. so it should be interesting to see how on top of things my coping mechanisms are.

Here are a couple of the new pieces for the show:

It’s frustrating, because I have all this space to fill at the show- but all my work is really really small. Solo shows and things like this are always really intimidating because I’m scared that there will be too much wall space and not enough artwork (my largest pieces are around 10″ x 12″). The closer my take-off day comes, the more nervous I get. But it will be super-fun, and I get to run around with some of my dear and amazing arty buddies out there- so I’m just trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach that are quickly turning into razor blades.

I hear my son chasing my cats in the next room, accompanied by the sounds of big things falling to the floor. Ugh…

I’d like a show of hands of everyone who needs a nap…..

Since this is my first posting on this little thingy, I’d like to state right off the bat that I’m a cusser. I use a lot of bad words. I use a lot of non-bad words and turn them into bad words. I’m very creative with this, and sometimes downright icky.

If this is a problem, please stop reading now and go on to a more “Full-House” “Cosby-esque” blog. I won’t be offended. I promise.

Today was a writhing pile of bile that just won’t stop oozing all over my shoes. And my husband, Brad, has chosen to play 1980′s German industrial music nonstop as I’m trying to decompress. Maybe he thinks this is funny. Actually- I KNOW he thinks this is funny. On any other day- it probably would be. But not today. Today, it is a parasite infested cherry on top of a rotted parasite infested moldy cupcake of a day.

I spent my day in a hamster ball. Running frantically from one tragically important errand to another- but all of this running in L.A. standstill traffic. Hence the hamster ball. Running running running… but only to find that you’ve been stuck under the sofa for the past hour, and have gotten nowhere.

Is any of this making sense? I can’t tell. Coherency is lost right now… all I can hear in my head is 1980′s German industrial music. Damn you, Brad.

I have a trade show in Las Vegas in 1 week. I found out today that only half of my samples are going to be made. And there are still about 5 different shirts that I need to pick up. This is bad. This is really really bad. Because I still need to get them screenprinted and embroidered. I still need to make the catalog- but how do I do this if half my line won’t even be at the show? The sales I make at these shows are what fund my business and all my living expenses for the next 6 months until the next show. How am I going to make this work? I have no fucking idea. Like I said… this is bad.

And Brad just turned to me and told me that for the next month, all he is going to listen to is 1980′s German industrial music. FFFFUUUUCCCKKKK!!! I must have participated in a lot of raping and pillaging in a previous life to have earned this.

Back to work related traumas… so the new line is going to be at the trade show incomplete. And in the midst of this, I’m supposed to be creative because on March 4th I leave to go to Cannes, France to participate in this:

This is a HUGE opportunity, and I am sincerely humbled and honored to be able to be a part of it… but I still have to finish the pieces for it, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day. And how am I supposed to be creative when I have a gun pointed at the base of my skull from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep? It doesn’t really set a “creative mood”.

And speaking of “the moment I go to sleep”… I’ve started sleepwalking again. I did this when I was younger- but it’s been literally decades since this bizarre habit has reared it’s ugly head. I was able to go through my first marriage, the expulsion of that first husband, the stresses of single motherhood, moving multiple times, and all other grown-up icky situations without this starting up again… but now- when I need to sleep the most- I wander through the house in the middle of the night in a zombie-like state. Brad found me last night curled up in the living room. He’s caught me multiple times coming back into the bedroom after wandering around for who-knows how long. I want to set up spy-cams in the house so I can see what I do during these nocturnal journeys. It’s got to be wonderfully bizarre to witness. But I wake up every morning feeling less-than-rested.

Right now, Brad’s trying to convince me of the genius behind the 1980′s German industrial music that he’s still listening to. I’m not fucking buying it. And even if it is genius- right now, all it’s doing is making me want to pour bleach in his eyes. I love you, darling Brad- but the joke is going too far… and you’re leaving me little choice but to retaliate in violence.

To sum up my day… I’m tired. Achingly tired to my very core. The kind of tired where all I want to do is cry… but I’m too tired to even do that. But my brilliant friend, Jen (she is one of the girls who runs www.All-mighty.net… go there and gaze at their splendor) told me that because I get alot of people reading my “myspace” blogs, that I should have an “official” one. And since I needed to turn my brain off and lay on the bed and do “nothing”- but I have no idea how to do “nothing”… so I started this thingy. This is me and Jen at the last trade show in Vegas. She was trying to keep my hair from taking me down (it’s sometimes a little stubborn and difficult to tame):

That’s all I have for the evening. We’ll see if I can continue to figure out how this blog site works, and I will keep updates on my midnight wanderings for all to enjoy.