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Category: art
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Prospect Heights
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NYC Fashion Week Day 1
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Jonathan Zawada @ Prism Gallery
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Ear, Nose and Throat
I was diagnosed with neck arthritis some tine ago after losing strength in my arms. It is, of course, a degenerative, condition.
Yesterday, after a long hike up Runyon Canyon with Vincent, Brock and the Little Dog I was dismayed by the increased dull aches and weakness in my arms and legs.
Getting older with anything degenerative is a depressing idea.
Last week I managed to get the 24 hour flu which included stomach cramps, nausea and general malaise.
Apart from the weakness and flu life has been a great deal of fun.
Laural Hardware, after two and half months, has become THE coolest place in LA.
This week we spotted Gwyneth Paltrow, Chelsea Handler, Rashida Jones and Katie Perry. Phil and Dean the owners of LH are loving their moment in the LA celebrity sun.
Even so, they remain the humblest success stories in town.
It is that time of year. After a day of writing I put on my autumn style and head off to whatever event seems most appropriate. The Fendi Baguette party was wonderfully organized. Peggy Moffitt, Victoria Hervey and Jeffrey Deitch etc.
Victoria Hervey goes to everything. Rude and pompous.
You know, of course, that I knew her brother John who, at the time of his death, was The Marquess of Bristol. It was he who introduced me to Freddy Hughes and radically changed my life.
In these modern times there’s really no reason for a girl like Victoria to behave so despicably… I mean… what does she actually do?
I hear that she is on the verge of being banned from a very exclusive club here in LA for being vile to the staff.
I have been spending a great deal of time at Vincent’s house in Brentwood. Such a beautiful home filled with wonderful art and books and mid-century modern furniture. Such a history! Presidents and celebrity sitting in the same furniture where I now sit watching Vincent’s crackling serve.
He knocks balls all over the tennis court and I swim lazily in the lap pool.
There’s a croquet lawn at the house but I could never win. Vincent is a croquet fiend and scoots around the course in as much time as it takes me to negotiate the first few hoops.
Exciting months ahead as the year draws to a close.
Regardless of where I’ll end up we are going to shoot the movie in January. I have been meeting with actors and heads of departments and line producers. It’s fun to be so involved with the process once again.
I have been asked to write an AA expose. There’s only so much exposing one can do in 1,500 words.
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Fendi Party at Maxfields
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Labor Day 2112
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Merle Ginsberg
A perfect Sunday lunch with old friends: the wonderful Merle Ginsberg and Orian Williams… producer of Anton Corbijn‘s Control at The Chateau Marmont.
Followed by a walk up Abbot Kinny with Tristam Summers.
Dawn. So much to be grateful for.
One day, when the storm has past, I will tell you everything. Not just the pretty pictures. Not just the elegant parties.
1.
Saw Premium Rush with John and Valoree Papsidera at a plush private screening room.
An exciting, gritty movie with a huge problem at its core: The bad cop played by Michael Shannon is not really a bad cop… he’s too funny.
So, come the last scene, the conclusion… I was left feeling cheated.
The last scene is terrible.
I did not feel as engaged with the story as one might have hoped.
There were too many chances for the main character Wilee (played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt) to make different sorts of choices. He could have called the police. He could have returned the package. He could have stayed at home.
Great use of New York and great ethnic casting.
2.
Perhaps, like so many people, I am in denial?
It is not far off… the conclusion.
I have had a lingering cold/flu. Sweats.
Script notes arrive and I am loathed to open them, even though I know that they will be good. Brilliant.
How does one turn a life event into a work of fiction? Well, obviously, you have to jettison the truth.
I spent the larger part of yesterday in Venice. My favorite location. Stalking my favorite haunts. It’s like Whitstable. I know so many people. Casual acquaintances. Unlike my home town, where they have known me all my life, their understanding of me is based on what they read.
After the LA Weekly piece they are well aware of what is going on and mask their desire to pry with small talk.
Sometimes I wake up and think I should go to an AA meeting but I’ll wait until I am in another city.
It is the truth: art heals. Remember when I was sick five years ago with my leaky spine? Good God, that was painful.
Convalescing, I stayed with David Philp and his wonderful wife (art critic and broadcaster) Hunter Drohojowska-Philp in their gorgeous Beverly Hills home. She brought beautiful books for me to look at and set art work at the end of the bed.
The pale yellow room designed by Jenny Armit became a temporary sanctuary. Until I was well again.
3.
I had a long chat with an old buddy in London, someone I worked with repeatedly in the old days. A great benefactor.
It’s cold outside and hot inside the house. I open the door and let the mountain in.
The garden, this year, has matured into the garden of my dreams.
Bumped into Drew Pinsky at CNN, we were both sprayed orange for our various TV appearances. He was sweet, as he always is. We hugged and gossiped. He asked if I had read Jennie’s book. I told him that I hadn’t but I’d get around to it sooner or later.
The children make me laugh. I sit with them watching Barbie cartoons and they mock Charlie’s new girlfriend (Charlieissocoollike) children can be very cruel and very funny.
Weird clicking on my telephone. I think my phone is being tapped. Why?