Dogs Gay Hollywood Malibu

Day of Wonder

Interesting day yesterday-after a good twenty four hours of stinking thinking-God delivered to me an old fashioned day of wonder.   Began in Hollywood drinking Turkish coffee.  My mood dramatically shifted from the day before when I felt so utterly wretched.  I could have climbed Runyon but didn’t.   I could have bought a pack of cigarettes but didn’t.

Peter arrived and took 20 works of art and furniture for sale and you know what?  So crowded with stuff is this apartment that as quickly as he removed things I hung stored paintings in their place.   After he left I felt relieved that so much had gone-all part of my less is more project.  I can now walk all the way around my bed!  My bedroom was crammed with too many things.  As well as a queen sized bed there was a huge Jasper Morrison sofa stuffed in there.  Frankly, I hadn’t really liked most of the sold work.  I bought it for all the wrong reasons.  Things were mostly collected to show off my great knowledge of contemporary art.   Yeah right.

Jenny A not Jennie K (we are still avoiding each other) called me from Solar de Cauenga on the corner of Cauenga and Franklin to drink more coffee.  The little dog and I sauntered down Franklin to see her.  The weather has been spectacular, warm and spring like.  Daffodils sprouting up all over the place, the trees budding, the birds singing, the air is fresh and clean after all the glorious rain.

I hadn’t seen Jenny A for a couple of years-not since I stayed in her beautiful home in Todos Santos.  You can stay there too if you visit her WEB SITE it’s now THE most perfect hotel.  Anyway, we hadn’t spoken since I climbed onto that dusty Mexican bus-but it was only a matter of time before we did.   We are both incredibly fractious and proud so when we spend time with each other have tended toward the dramatic.  Anyway, that was then and this is now:  two calm, evolved human beings having a quiet latte together in a noisy café.    She looks wonderful.

A young filmmaker came visiting after I returned form my time with Jenny.  Josh, a Persian Jew looking for an internship somewhere.   Oh God!  He sat there and I just couldn’t wait for him to leave.  No life, no experience, no opinions, no point of view-no heroes!  How could he ever expect to be a filmmaker?   He told me that he wanted to ‘change film making’ yet, as usual, when you ask who his favorite filmmakers were he was hard pressed to tell me.  Like so many wannabe directors he was just a kid who liked movies, the difference being that this kid was raised in LA yet knew nothing about the city in which he was raised nor the industry that he says he wants to be part of-in fact he had no interests in anything apart from soccer and his girlfriend.  I told him I could not help him and he left.  It was like meeting a 40 something married guy.   Do any of these kids have heroes?  What happened to boys having heroes?  I had all sorts of heroes when I was a boy.

I dashed to my car and headed to Malibu.

When I arrived Patrick the gardener was hanging around doing I don’t know what but it was nice to see him.  I cleaned the house, laid a couple of rugs that had been sitting around in H’wood and then decided to go to Nina Hagen’s listening party at the recording studio next door.

Nina Hagen must have used the word Jesus at least 20 times to describe her new life as a Born Again Christian-she has renounced Buddhism.    She told me that Jesus was guiding her, that Jesus was showing her the way etc etc.  With flowers in her trademark two-ponytail hairstyle this slight mother of two is haggard but vibrant.  She avoids looking directly into ones face.   I ate a delicious cream puff.  However, I didn’t stick around to listen to the album, as I was worried that the constant references to Jesus would make me laugh out loud.

At 3pm I met Stephen Fry at the Peninsular Hotel.  Bumped into Donall McCusker who had worked on AKA but is now one of the producers of The Hurt Locker.  Stephen and I ate scones and silly finger sandwiches and the staff made a terrible fuss about the little dog not being allowed-which we ignored.    Stephen is writing the second part of his autobiography.   Since my therapy I have walked into most situations free of shame and I am glad to report that today was no exception.  I am usually so ashamed of my lack of formal education, my slight career, my meager achievements that sitting before this intellectual giant can shrivel any attempt I may have at a passable attempt at being anything other than a good natured baboon.   Today I just felt like a man with nothing to prove-just enjoying him and his extraordinariness.  In fact, I felt so comfortable I told him my great app idea, which he really liked.

As we left I introduced Stephen to Donall who was sitting with a group of execs-Donall called later to say that as Stephen and I walked away he was excited to have met Stephen Fry but his guests were more excited to know if I was really me (Duncan Roy).  Funny eh?  The power of reality TV.  SF drove away in his mini.

Met John and Jamie at Phyllis Morris for more diet coke and discussed my previous days misery.  They gave me three yards of heavy oyster colored upholstery silk from Osborn and Little to recover the chair JB didn’t buy.

Dinner with Chrissie Isley and Michelle Collins amongst others.   We ate delicious chicken, asparagus and green beans.  Strawberries and real whipped cream-Hungarian chocolate with pear.  Our hosts had vegetables growing in tiny garden.  Nearly fell asleep at the table even though conversation was good, Michelle very funny.  We discussed Lulu, Soho House, Obama and David Cameron-apparently he isn’t going to win the general election.

Brought home fresh bananas, lemons and tangerines from my trees.

No dreams.

3 replies on “Day of Wonder”

Your wonderful day was full of all the kinds of things I was wishing for you. I can relate to how you felt with Stephen Fry, comfortable with yourself and recognizing it. I reached that point really just in the last year, more and more, so that the last time I had a wonderful day (my birthday was lovely from beginning to end because of the relationships I have been able to create or improve over the last few years) I just accepted and enjoyed rather than questioning and feeling unworthy. I am so happy for you.
How tall is Stephen Fry? I can’t picture him in a mini!

Duncan, that makes me very sad to think you feel ashamed sometimes about your education/career/achievements. You’ve achieved sobriety, which you should acknowledge is an amazing achievement and you seem more comfortable in your own skin, which is admirable and more than can be said for 90% of the population. Please know that I enjoy your writing and ideas, I look forward to your posts and that has nothing to do with a formal education.

Since I haven’t met you, I won’t address you as Duncan. Yet Mr. Roy seems a bit starchy, as if I was responding to an ad. I am reminded that someone told me that in some foreign languages with formal and informal or intimate usages that one requests to use the more intimate form of address after one has been acquainted for a while. Perhaps, at length, I will request the privilege. I think that we sometimes become too intimate too fast and that some of the constraints of previous eras might be put to good use in these days where at times appearance masquerades as substance. We are trained to go for the sizzle, not the steak. The sound bite, not dialog. And we give away too much, too soon. Pearls before swine and all that.
I am so very happy for your gift of a “Day of Wonder”. I hope that you will remember the taste, smell, feel and sight of it (NLP visualization techniques for making something concrete and resonate.) when you have a day like the previous one. Make it a real as any porn fantasy. Drum it into your subconscious. I was just listening to “There’s A Light” from the Doobie Brothers album “Livin’ On The Fault Line” that I downloaded to the computer. It brings joy or tears but usually, an emotional release. I recommend it. Right now I’m hearing “Gratitude” from Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Gratitude”. I might also recommend four albums by Akshara Weave that use the four master healing Reiki symbols interpreted in music. You need to retrain your brain.
When I hear of someone’s death, especially, a stranger (to me) I always silently say “Peace and a blessed rebirth”. I wish that their soul be granted the peace and healing that they may have been denied in life and that the angels and healers surround them with Light. And as I believe in reincarnation, I ask for a blessed rebirth. I will ask that for your friend. Don’t believe that he is calling you. It’s darkness, the siren song of oblivion. I know I’ve been there. (I love the Billy Joel line “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.” but I believe there is a bardo where there are lost souls. Mistakes don’t put you there but suicide does. I don’t think we find our friends there; they’d be too lost.) Don’t listen. His death was a tragic, horrible mistake. If you can’t hold on for yourself, then think of the pain it would cause your friends if you left them. Even if you believe that only one heart would be shredded the way that yours was, do you want to cause that pain? You seem to care more for others pain than your own, although, I bet that you consider yourself self-centered. Hold on, then. You’re waking up. It would be a shame to leave now. The play’s just getting to the good parts. 😉
The Metal Rabbit in my e-mail address is because it is my Chinese symbol and element. The 13 is because I consider it a power number & lucky. I’m quirky that way.

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