The City of Angels, the prequel

Oh LA. City of Angels. The first stop on our eight-city fundraising tour. As soon as I got on the flight from SF to LA everything took on a filmic quality. I lamented that my video camera was buried in the heavy bag in the overhead compartment. Certainly now is the time to start videoing, recording, documenting more than just Josie popping her head out of the carrier (though she is not with us on this trip). But toward what end? I could make a documentary about this experience, but I need a plan before I start shooting. And at this particular moment, I am more involved in making this Art Monastery thing happen than I am about filming this thing happen. Conclusion: I need a film crew. Must be the water in LA. This really makes sense to me.

Mystophur went down to LA five days before me, loading his schedule full of meetings with fascinating and supportive people, musicians, experts in Early Music, and the like. By the time I arrived on Thursday, he felt like his time in LA had been so useful that anything more than this was extraordinary. Great!

He picked me up from the airport and whisked me to the Skirball Cultural Center, where I was promptly stunned by the beauty of each indoor and outdoor space. Previous to that I was already feeling really grateful to Cherries, my old friend from my days at Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo, New York, where he was IT Director and I was Editor of Publications. He has since gone on to revolutionize the technological aspects of the Guggenheim and now the operations of the Skirball. When I wrote Cherries to ask if he could get me a space there, I was mostly joking. Isn’t it only big fancy organizations who have events there? Matters not, because Cherries donated the space to the Art Monastery. What a guy!

We found time to stop by Mystophur’s old pal’s place. These are quality people! For the first time ever, I found myself imagining the possibility of living in LA. I would only consider enjoying that sort of weather if I were hanging with people like this in their amazingly cool bungalow house complete with a tiki bar they built themselves in the yard. We pretty quickly got into a fascinating discussion about spirituality and world religions. When we couldn’t decide between ordering pizza or ordering thai, we ordered both. Turns out: great combo.

That’s a baby under her shawl, by the way.Oh LA. City of Angels. The first stop on our eight-city fundraising tour. As soon as I got on the flight from SF to LA everything took on a filmic quality. I lamented that my video camera was buried in the heavy bag in the overhead compartment. Certainly now is the time to start videoing, recording, documenting more than just Josie popping her head out of the carrier (though she is not with us on this trip). But toward what end? I could make a documentary about this experience, but I need a plan before I start shooting. And at this particular moment, I am more involved in making this Art Monastery thing happen than I am about filming this thing happen. Conclusion: I need a film crew. Must be the water in LA. This really makes sense to me.

Mystophur went down to LA five days before me, loading his schedule full of meetings with fascinating and supportive people, musicians, experts in Early Music, and the like. By the time I arrived on Thursday, he felt like his time in LA had been so useful that anything more than this was extraordinary. Great!

He picked me up from the airport and whisked me to the Skirball Cultural Center, where I was promptly stunned by the beauty of each indoor and outdoor space. Previous to that I was already feeling really grateful to Cherries, my old friend from my days at Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo, New York, where he was IT Director and I was Editor of Publications. He has since gone on to revolutionize the technological aspects of the Guggenheim and now the operations of the Skirball. When I wrote Cherries to ask if he could get me a space there, I was mostly joking. Isn’t it only big fancy organizations who have events there? Matters not, because Cherries donated the space to the Art Monastery. What a guy!

We found time to stop by Mystophur’s old pal’s place. These are quality people! For the first time ever, I found myself imagining the possibility of living in LA. I would only consider enjoying that sort of weather if I were hanging with people like this in their amazingly cool bungalow house complete with a tiki bar they built themselves in the yard. We pretty quickly got into a fascinating discussion about spirituality and world religions. When we couldn’t decide between ordering pizza or ordering thai, we ordered both. Turns out: great combo.

That’s a baby under her shawl, by the way.