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I turned 29 on Tuesday. I'm afraid that the time has come to admit to myself that I am not a child prodigy. You may wonder why it took me until the edge of 30 to make that realization. I felt I deserved the benefit of the doubt, so I gave myself an extra decade or so just in case I was a late bloomer. I have yet to bloom. So, it looks like I'm in for a lot of hard work and effort just like all of the other non-geniuses out there.
I spent half of last week in LA. I stayed at the Standard Hotel Downtown and loved it. Their soap smells like celery and KTLA did the morning show from the rooftop patio.
It was strange for me to be a visitor in LA, having grown up there. I didn't remember it being so filthy. Like a third world country only dirtier. And the traffic wasn't much fun. But, I love it. I love the architecure, I love the food, I love all of the different cultures rubbing up against each other, and I love the orange trees (no real groves left, but trees in yards and lining streets).
I was there on business and had almost no free time, but at night I wandered around downtown and saw the new Our Lady of Angels cathedral, the MOCA, and new Disney Concert Hall by Frank Gehry. Downtown isn't just for winos anymore!
When I left LA it was 70 degrees. When I arrived in Denver it was 4 degrees and there were no orange trees.
So, I am hoping to move into a new studio. My present studio is fine, but there are really no other artists in the building and I have to walk down the hall to wash my brushes in the custodial closet. That probably doesn't sound that horrible, but that walk is enough to push me over the I'm-not-washing-my-brushes edge. The new studio is downtown, in a building full of artists, has a skylight, and a sink! It has roof access via the skylight with cathedral and capital dome views and is a tad bigger with storage.
The artist presently occupying the space shared another plus with me; mad crack action! He says at night he sits and watches the base heads in the alley from his 2nd floor perch. Last winter he watched one drop his rock in the snow and spend 30 minutes sifting through icey sludge in hopes of finding it.
Yesterday Grant was sleeping on our bed when the cat jumped up next to him. He woke up, saw the cat, and bear-hugged him. The cat freaked out and jumped off the bed with Grant firmly attached. Grant wasn't hurt, the cat broke his fall.