one tomato said to another tomato "Ketchup". and that's what I have to do.
I found at the library a copy of Rouben Mamoulian's The Gay Desperado (1936) starring Ida Lupino
and Nino Martini playing a Mexican singing cowboy opera star. It is a hilarious b&w film based on Marx brothers movies this one produced by Mary Pickford.
A week later I'm in Wickenburg on one of my road trips and I ask the waitress, Candye Limon, at El Ranchito if I can take her photo. She disappears to run my credit card and comes back smiling saying she loves my work but doesn't "want to take that sort of photo". I explain that I take many different types of photos and write down my blog address suggesting she check it out and I'd be back the next day. I came back a day later and she had read the blog and agreed to pose.
Candye left andf I went inside for dinner at her folks place. Half way through the meal a waiter brings out the food for another nearby table and out comes Chuy, Candye's dad and sings Opera!!
My tzunami brought up a neglected roll of film from the late 70's. It was halloween nite and the party was in the flower district where I had a loft above the Old Garden Restaurant. The conglomeration of people amazed me since some were from my days at Bard, some from my days at the University of Colorado and some from the then present- NYC. Two days later I went to a birthday party thrown by Andrew Brown for his girlfriend Dia. It is an interesting(for me) visual comparison.
(lft to right) Ed Caddy, architect living in London. My ex wife Lynka Adams, living with her husband, Ron Kurash (the devil) in San Francisco.
Sam Bruskin, creative thinker/artist living in New Orleans. Peter Dennison, having been to Morocco
currently lives I -don't-know-where.
Sam I've know since the first day at Bard Sept. 1964, Lynka , mother of my two girls, Willa and Leah and me looking flaccid.
David Hershkovits, co-founder of the Paper, relaxing b4 the party. Whatever happened to that rolltop desk or that rug. The kachina just past David's head I still have but the reclining Buddha Lynka and I bought in Thailand must have sailed back to Phuket because I don't have him anymore.
that's Richard Lowenberg, crossing the imaginary line. he lives in Santa Fe working with positive uses of media.
Leonid Lubianisky. russian. I met him in the early seventies. we were both shooting for ourselves outside Lincoln Center. A fine photographer
well is was plastic
Do you think Peter looked as stoned as I felt?
if I remember correctly the night ended with a hell of a blowjob. But we were still married so that was ok.
part 2 Dia and Andrew. I first met Andrew when he filmed me for the Univ. of Az television station when I curated the Warhol show for Eric Firestone Gallery. I figured then he had a future and would contact suggesting he film such and such but he was in demand and when not doing assignments he was busy doing his own film pieces. Then I met Dia and I thought she was a true Mayan beauty and asked her to pose. Nope. He had heard rumors about my behavior with models ...then months later he told me he had made that up and simply didn't want me threatening his relationship. For a period he had an interest in erotic photography and he told me every book he bought was either edited by me, had my photos in it or was my work.I'd see Dia at where she worked and dealt with the denial. Her birthday fell on Fat Tuesday and I arrived late.
wewere asked to bring a mask so I brought a mask I bought in Venice when I met my youngest there in 2007. I also brought tequila because its quicker but no one would drink that. They all drank the rum punch Hurricanes. Women I didn't remember kept coming up to me and reminding me of events we had worked together on. One beauty would hang close then leave...then another. Robert Villa played his violin around the candlelit birthday cake
, Dionysus, Dia's dad danced all nite
, and my friend Tom Willet took the shots I couldn't take.
Dia in Andrew's arms
this beauty reminded me I had approached her to shoot when I first came to Tucson four years ago at that record store on Dodge near Grant.
Dia blue out the candles
My shots sans flash
Sasha was feeling no pain
the kitchen rendevous
the front porch
I noticed Shasta disappear around the frig and then reappear to be painted by a friend that had just come back from Japan. Next I saw her she was decorated.
On the wall in the courtyard, a piece by friend/ artist Nick Georgiou.
and then good night.
the next day I dropped off a log to replace the wood we burned in the fireplace the nite b4
once I saw a movie with Rory Calhoun called "Motel Hell" where he cured "dumb tourists" in the basement of the hotel. The "hello" sign had lost its "o". After I left the party I came across the "Hot" hotel.