I'm a Super Diva. Super, Super, Super Diva .

 Saturday, I was treated to a trip to Long Beach Pride. Never in my life have I seen so much rainbow. The people who invited me were volunteering for Equality-something-something. Marriage equality is the gripe du jour here. I have a lot of feelings about this that I won't bore you with right now. Let me just say that I think there needs to be a debate into the semantics of what is being proposed. And of course, that Jesus needs to get the fuck out of politics.

Annnnnnnnyway, as well as the multitude of rainbow souvenirs I saw the most amazingly passionate signers I ever hope to see.

And this guy, who sang an original composition for Pride Idol. It's called Super Diva and is so bad, it's fabulous. This song has been on rotation in my brain since. I only wish I got more footage so you could all see its true glory. 

Stop. Hammer time.

The Museum not the happy-panted, white-collared big guy. This blog post would be more aptly titled Get Some Culture Up Ya as I wish to share with the world some wonderful artists I've seen here in LA. 

For those of you who don't follow art, suck it up and get some culture up ya.

Firstly, I saw a lovely exhibition of local contemporary LA artists at The Hammer.

Llyn Foulkes - Does some lovely 3D collages.

Charles Irvin - His work feel like it was made by an inmate of a mental deviancy institution. I like a bit of crazy in my artists though

Victoria Reynolds - Paints meat!! And titles her works things like Reindeer in the Snow. 

Lisa Anne Auerbach - Lots of feminisey knitted dresses and photography.

I also went to MOCA last Thursday before having dinner with the boy genius that is Tathom. Microsoft was paying for him to be in LA for a tech conference and subsequently was paying for us to drink at the hotel bar.

MOCA has a wonderful permanent collection but the Dan Graham works that are just passing through were the most wonderful. Very architectural. We all know this excites me.

Then there was LACMA. Oh LACMA, how you pleasantly surprised me. The Los Angeles County Museum has a varied collection, as you would expect, but where every city in this country has Warhol, Lichtenstein and Jasper Johns (whom I have concluded is the art world's Jack Kerouac - American, patriotic, slightly chauvinistic, incredibly and unfoundedly well loved) on show, here, they actually show rare pieces. How many times have I seen Warhol's Elvis? Quite a few, but at least at LACMA it was presented in conjunction with a bunch of his other crazy shit.

There was a wonderful collection of German Expressionist. I like these guys. They're really dark aesthetically and thematically. You know, animals eating people and stuff. 

There was this:

Work by Frank West

Which reminded me of one of my own works:

I call this piece Mould of the Large Intestine

And this:

It's hard to tell from the piccy but this installation was giant iron curves that created long winding corridors for you to walk through. Walking through these structures reminded me of that one time in High School when a bunch of us dropped some acid and walked to Richmondo KFC. The footpath seemed to go on FOREVER. Sorry Mum. Only happened that once. Promise.

Also! Also! There was no video art! Not one little itty bitty piece. Nosferatu was being screened but that is most certainly not video art. Thank you LACMA for having standards. 

I am going to go out on a limb and say this; I am so over Rietveld's Red/Blue Chair. You see one of these in Australia and its super exciting. It's a historically significant item. Here, though, Every. Single. Gallery. Has. One. Come on, Rietveld, give us something new already. 

Next to LACMA is the La Brea Tar Pits. The only reason I wanted to see them was because they are featured in a comic I read. Unfortunately I couldn't get underneath them to see if there really is a secret lair. 

My understanding of the pits real, actual significance is this. Way back in the ice age, animals and stuff used to get trapped in the tar and die (as demonstrated above by the struggling mammoth), so, heaps (that's Australian for "a lot") of fossils were recovered from the pits. And thus The Pits have been kept on display in all their smelly glory.

 

Video content as promised.

 Apparently its not only a small world, but a very, very camp one.

Sunny Sanny D

 Haven't yet shared San Diego. I was all Swine fluey so it got a bit jumbled. I enjoyed myself. I did. And I know I had things to share but some of it feels a little like a dreamed it because of the foggy swineness.

NB: I did not actually have Swine Flu. Chillax Mum.

Soooooo I spent lots of time hanging about on my cousins veranda and lots of time sleeping but I also went to many of Sanny D's Museums. Luckily for lazy folk like me, most of them are in the one park. And a lovely park it is too:

Balboa Park

I remember being impressed with the Museum of the Living Artist. Largely due to being "so over" (that's So Cal speak) seeing art work by dead guys. I like that this museum is dedicated to showing contemporary pieces by contemporary people. I did go to the MCASD but it was showing works from the MCA's (Sydney) collection and it was all video art. Have I mentioned how I feel about video art? No? Well that's a rant for another time. Remind me after I've had a few and I'll tell you aaaaall about it. Amazingly they did not have any Tracy Moffat on show though.

The same day I went to the Reuben H. Fleet Science Center and saw an IMAX film about the Great Barrier Reef. Then, I come back to LA and the hostel is full of Aussies. The sneaky bastards are following me. Finally the awesomeness that is me has filtered back to mainstream Australia. I'll be signing autographs soon.

Back on point, the Reuben H. was rad. It was so hands on. There was edutainment bouncing off the walls! I didn't get to see it all though because spent a way-too-long on this:

Marvel of Modern Engineering

It works though! Roll a marble down it. Go on, it totally works. I'm that good.

Also, finally! Finally! I saw the body worlds exhibition by every one's favourite Creepy German, Gunther Von Hagen. 

Now, I'll be the first to admit that our mate Gunther has revolutionised anatomical display and education. The dude invented plastination Which is basically the process of replacing the fluid in organs with  plastic or rubber polymers so they are preserved and can hold their own structure. Incredible, however there is something ethically icky about this guy not to mention he makes some odd artistic choices and gets way to excited about things he shouldn't.

I'm always wary of where he finds his subjects. Supposedly, people donate their bodies to him, which may well be true and I admire anyone that donates their posthumous bits to science or medicine. But where did he find bits and bodies before he was world renowned Gunther, the Creepy German?

Let me go on record as saying I would like to donate my organs for people who need those organs to survive. BUT, if my bits end up in the hands of that man I will come back from the afterlife to wreak my bloody revenge on whoever made that happen. Hmmm, horror film anyone? So going to write that.

Hey Gunther, we know what you're Junk looks like.

Back to San D. Emmanuelle , my cus who lives in the barrio, took me to see a local Sanny D band. The B Side Players were superb and the lead singer had the most incredulous hair I've ever seen!  

Also oodles of noodles of Murals. Love a good mural. Have been inspired to do some muraling of my own. Watch this space...

You get the world for your birthday baby...

Welcome to my post birthday post. Feel free to sing me that song instead of the birthday song. Or this song is good any day of the year.

Disneyland really is the perfect place to spend your birthday if you're on your lonesome. Not only do you get in free but they give you a badge (actually I got two):

So that everyone knows its your birthday and everyone gives you a big "Happy Birthday".  The ride attendants, the food vendors that hates their jobs, other park goers, other May 13th-ers. So you feel both special and part of the crowd both at the same time.

I'm not sure if Disneyland is quite the happiest place on earth (I'm reserving my judgement until after I get to Dollywood) but it sure is chipper. I walked down Main St to one of my favourite musical nerd burger songs, I ate a pretzel that looked like Mickey, I ate a churrio that looked kind of phallic, I rode tea cups and Mickey even let me drive! He gave me a driver's licence that was just as easy to get as my international permit. 

Funnily enough, the autopolis attraction was the one with the longest wait, despite most of the people in the queue being adults that drive EVERY DAY. 

For a brief moment i wished Ffrench and LK were with me when I did the Indiana Jones Ride simple because they would have believed they were in fact Indie. Then i thought of all the revolting things they would be saying around small children and i was once again glad to be on my own.

Hey remember that film called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"? And remember how much I love that film called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"? Well check this:

I'd like to take a moment to reminisce the wonder that was wonderland. My fellow sydneysiders, come with me. Everyone else just know it was the shiz. Now Disney rides were good and their fabrication was superb. I could go on and on and on and on about the A-Mazing attention to detail in the dressings, however I wanted a little something extra. (I'm selfish like that, it's how I roll). Now maybe it was because I was younger and tinier and more of a wussbag but Wonderland had rides that Scared the shit out of me! Disney had no upsidey roller coasters, no free-falls, no space probe, no demon, no unsafe wooden rickety coaster. Alas.

Was a lovely, exhausting day, even without losing my guts. 

I have a little video content for you lovelies but alas it is not converting. Another time. 

Got the Pig

My brain is a little cloudy right now so I don't feel like my usual witty self. Apologies my adoring public, all six of you are very dear to me. I have the swine flu. 

Not really. I did hang out with a latino in LA but I'm fairly certain its not in their DNA. No, this is entirely self inflicted. The result of too many beers on too many nights. I blame the English. Damn them, with their pounds and their drink guzzling ways. Such a bad influence.

LA was lovely though. I plan on heading back their next week for a few more days. I desperately want to go to MOCA and Mickey is going to let me into Disneyland for free on Wednesday. He better not sing me Happy Birthday or I'll break his floppy jumbo ears. I loath that song. 

I saw lots of pretty things already in LA like sleeve tattoos, shiny shiny new cars and this guy:

The Shat

I made LA friends too (not just the naughty english ones).  One of said friends took her dog inside a club. Woman was on the dance floor with a fluffy black pomeranian in her arm. So LA. The other, is teaching me spanish... sort of. I now know the chile is salsa not jalepinos and can say beer and sleep. I'm almost fluent.

Right now I'm chillin' in San Diego with my cousin. I think I'll spend tomorrow at the beach provided I find myself a cheap and non-offensive bikini. Oh I guess that means I'll need to shave my legs too. Lame.

For those of you following its progress, the toe nail hasn't faired so well.