Did you know that the Los Angeles County Museum of Art is free every second Tuesday of the month??
It is! Don't forget to get a ticket anyway. The people at the exhibits will have to go on furlough if you they cant scan your stupid ticket at the door.
My favorite thing about museums is usually the museum itself. There are some great staples: a wonderful wall of Andy Warhol prints, Michael Jackson and Bubbles (roped off to ward off people thinking about using it as a blarney stone), and a beautiful building housing exquisite Chinese art, but the design of a museum is what inspires me most. A museum is a sanctuary.
The LACMA is on Wilshire Blvd. which cuts right through Los Angeles proper and many of the things worth seeing. It is very crowded with childrens' groups and foreign tourists. The sculptures outside are enormous, bright and flashy. Eh. I like the Getty better. Maybe just because its on a hill away from the city. The LACMA feels like it has something to prove.
Right across the street from the Variety building! Shoot for the stars? Not quite.
So because I didn't get what I needed from the museum design, I will write of my favorite exhibit. It is called Fallen Star, 1/5 by Do Ho Suh. The artist created an enormous dollhouse in the form of a New York style brownstone with every detail installed. Each apartment had it's own character. The family with the bottom floor and big, bay window was almost rich with Victorian elements and lavishly decorated. The family on one of the upper floors had less money and clearly had children, who littered the walls with their favorite movie posters. A smaller Korean-style house wrapped in an orange cloth has collided with the bigger dollhouse. The floor is covered in debris from every family's destroyed rooms. A beautiful chandelier from the rich family's home mingles with magazines from the family with children, and works in progress from a tenant who was clearly a designer of some sort. I read an article in which Suh says the work is a "self-portrait"(latimes.com) exemplifying his move to the United States from Korea.
While I can't say I understand what it would mean to move to a different country as an artist and experience this kind of culture shock, the violence of the sculpture moved some empathy in me, touching on my current torrential uprooting situation.
The most wonderful experience today. I told my boss I am quitting and moving to New York. He was so amazing! He said if he was my age he would spend a year in each state! He would travel, he would experience America. I said I have been in So Cal for seven years and he said, "Yes. Its time."
He said he didn't understand why people stay here when they have nothing. I agreed with him.
He was all the supportive my family has not been able to be.
Ok well I am not sure how to sell my car yet, but here is what I am doing so far:
I owe a pretty penny on this baby, but its less than the car is worth. I just got off the phone with THE nicest guy who told me I can't get the title from them until I pay them. Ok, so I have to sell this baby ASAP.
(Ok yeah, so I upped the price. The advice I got was to have a higher starting value so I could negotiate down to the $11,900 price. I really can't go for less than that because thats what I owe on the loan.)
My next idea is to shop it around to the myriad used car buyers... wish me luck!
Oh man! I am trying to sell my car and finding it very hard! I am paying back a loan, so I don't have the title and its just a whole big mess. My parents never taught me anything.
I have time though. Right? And an appointment tomorrow at three! I was smart and set it up in the Ralph's parking lot near my house. Oh man. If I sell my car, I know its really happening. Check my ad on Craigslist. Thoughts?
Ever ride a roller coaster and you're going up that big, steep hill before the terrifying drop? Or you're about to give a presentation, or a wedding speech or sing or something? There are those few moments right before, when you know your turn is up, the bell tolls for you and you can't get out of this no matter what you do and you are totally and completely screwed?
I told myself that if I allowed myself to wallow on my blog and get all morose, I would have to then do something productive. I did said that, didn't I?
Things to do in the next 44 days:
1. Fix car 2. Sell car 3. Send Michael off to NYC to look at apartments. (Michael is roommate. Name not changed! He wouldn't mind) 4. So...find apartment by proxy through Michael without losing mind and getting so scared that I have to pee twelve times before bed and then not even be able to sleep. 5. Kill poltergeist 6. Buy Hubcap a ticket for Catair 7. Have some kind of little dinner or party to say goodbye 8. Make sure sister gets set up with new roommate 9. End things with manager 10. Quit job at THIRTY DAYS 11. Go to two weddings 12. Pull $2000 out of thin air 13. Pack all my stuff up 14. Find mind and lock it securely in my head 15. Plan out road trip across the country 16. Find some balls and put them on 17. Let go.
Yeah. So far not a good day. First of all my computer is going nuts. My computer has a poltergeist. My mouse keeps drifting to the top of the page and clicking on the X and trying to make me either "navigate from the page" or quit! And sometimes it pulls all my words off the page with it and either deletes them or puts them in funny order. Its a very witty ghost. I hate it.
Also I think my anxiety may be manifesting itself into something very serious. This is the site I found at 2:30 in the morning. Not sleeping.
So I am losing it. Yup. Going off the deep end for sure.
So every day for the next 46 days I am going to let myself have a little check in and a teensy weensy rant.
Then I am going to do something productive. This is my productive thing.
Like tell you that Los Angeles has an amazing number of murals. When I first moved here I lived in THE shittiest apartment ever, but there was this mural across the street that was unreal. I took a picture of it but cant find it now, will get back to you.
Here is another little photo-documentary of the mysterious murals that pop up all over the city.
So I am getting very nervous about leaving. I still haven't told my boss (though I thought 30 days notice would be WAY more than enough, right?) I am really enjoying my acting class, and I am scared to go in and tell my managers and agents.
What I am saying is this: I haven't made any changes that I can't undo. Even the rental truck reservation isn't binding.
I need to be bold. A bold woman would act.
Who is bold? Who can I look to for help? Oprah? Martha?
Class today was all about facing your fears. Not facing them, but RIDDING yourself of them. I am afraid. I am very afraid. I am so fucking afraid that it paralyzes me.
The Arclight is on Sepulveda Blvd. (Seh-pull-vuh-duh.) It's on of the many hard to sound out street names. (Doheny and Cahuenga are others.) Anyway, its 1.8 miles from my house.
We went to see Borat. My sister has ADD and decided she wanted to wait it out at the bar without telling any one else. So I went looking for her for twenty minutes until I finally turned my phone back on (I WAS IN A MOVIE!!) and found a text from her saying "at the bar."
So we missed the movie. And we had been drinking. So we walked home.
This is a picture documentary of our walk.
I call it
View of the Freeway from the bar at the Arclight
My sister and me.
Everything must go. Going out of Business.
Going Out of Business and "Help Wanted. Experience Required" Ironic, anyone?
I am getting ready to give my theatrical manger and my commercial agent the thirty day notice of my intentions to give them the boot.
Here is my letter so far. If anyone is reading this blog, please let me know what you think!
Dear Ari Gold*:
First of all I wanted to thank you for your support in the last two years. I really loved getting to know you and I learned a lot through our talks in your office. I especially enjoyed singing karaoke at your Christmas parties. Thank you for standing behind me as I started out my career in Los Angeles. Your encouragement has meant worlds to me.
I have decided to move to New York City, a dream I have been putting off since I was twelve. The time is right to make that leap, and I feel it is the best thing for me as an artist. Unfortunately it will mean the end of our business contract. I wish I could take you with me!
If you know of anyone I can contact in the Big Apple, I would appreciate it so much. I promise to keep in touch and when my first play opens, you will be the first people I send comp tickets to! Thank you so much again for your assistance and education. I will be forever grateful that I could call myself your client even for a short period of time.
Should I also add, "To be honest, Ari*, you didn't really do THAT much for me. I mean, you did get me one audition for Cold Case and one for Cinderella Story 2, but that was in the first six months. What the hell happened? And then you started trying to get me to go in with you on this stock scheme and the Monavie crap? You guys pretty much sucked. Sorry." Again, opinions would be greatly appreciated.
Last night I found this article on the FRONT PAGE of the New York Times. Almost immediately my Internet went out. This morning I searched and searched for it, finally found it and devoured it for breakfast. This is the dream apartment.
At two months before I am leaving for New York, my mind is a jumble. Some parts of me are still not sure I am going. All I know is I have to leave Los Angeles. I simply do not belong here. I also know I always wanted to live in New York. I need to make this leap. I NEED to. All this time between making the decision and actually doing it have made me weak. I have come to the dreaded moments where I have to tell my boss and my manager that I am leaving them for a better place. I don't mind disappointing them as much as I don't want to hear their warnings.
(Picture from the article by Piotr Redlinski for The New York Times)