DIE JUNGENDLICHE FRISCHE-FALTENBEHANDLUNG

Since the Vagimule doll has a barren womb that a child will never emerge from I receive comfort from mothering and mentoring young artists from around the world. My new colleagues in Chicago are quite prolific and abounding in talent and verve. Was fortunate to meet a resounding cast of vibrant artists at an informal morning roundtable at the Student Leadership Suite. Delighted in the nice mixture with a high dosage of Black, Asian, Latinos, pretty babydykes and fagulas. So many of this new generation are  focused and determined and taking their art practice in scintillating new directions. Had a very full day of studio visits that was quite invigorating and many artists gave me presents and luscious gifts as tributes to my grande dame status. Feels wonderous to be appreciated. My first studio visit on a warm bright Chicago morning was with a charming young woman named Natalie Nicholsen who was a performance grad who did a short tableaux vivant presentation for me with her collaborateur that encompassed a pert soundscape with text. Natalie also sang me a lilting original blues song that had a Laura Nyro shimmer to it. The time melted away with Miss Natalie and her friend, then I was spirited off by Miss Andrea Green and Laura-CarolineJohnson for  a short luncheon followed by more visitations with another performance grad the lovesexxy Keijuan Thomas who reminded me of a young version of Squirrel from the David Rouseave Dance Company and a more humble and engaging Lyle Ashton Harris. Keijuan’s work is very choreographic and sensual and with a body as tight and delicious as his he needs to always be running around town butt naked or at the very least clad in nothing but a thong. I am very anxious to follow his career trajectory. I had a swellegant time with Daviel Shy who showed me her work-in-progress film. Daviel who is utterly adoreable has the makings of a baby dyke Jack Smith. Her movie could be this generations Flaming Creatures. I also was wowed with her performance series of lesbiana fight klub. Can’t wait to hang on my studio wall her Battle of The Exes silk screen poster. I was also blown away by the site specific performance work and total generosity of Li-Hui Huang. One of her pieces taking place in a Chinese brothel that 70 years ago was a place of intrigue during the Japanese occupation. Her whimsical Chicago interventions are very brave as she outdoes my Fertile La Toyah Jackson Video Magazines Streetwalker Fashions segment from the 1990s by a landslide. I really could see the filmwork of Ms. Shy and Ms. Huang being screened in the Berlinale’s Forum Expanded section, Sundance’s New Frontiers or Outfest’s Platinum. My last studio visit was with sweet Stevie Hainley a sculptural painter who I actually met in Berlin last year through Toby Raucher during the Camp/Anti-Camp:Queer Guide to Everyday Life Festival. Mr. Hainley’s work is psycho sexual and dark, but honey you can’t have light without dark. I pronounce Mr. Hainley a dainty Satanist in the Aleister Crowley/Rosemary’s Baby school of honky tonk bisquit queen perfectionism. I hope I am able to nurse more talent from SAIC through my letter writing salon. It would make me a most happy grandma auntiela. After a day of studio visits I was interviewed by NPR at the same downtown studio space that interviewed me in 1990 for the SPEW Festival along with G.B.Jones and Bruce “Judy” LaBruce. Talk about déjà vu. The super masculine and muscular Art Historian David Getsy conducted a fancy free interview with me for the Video Data Bank that just breezed along with lots of joy and laughter. I decided to go off on a manifesto rant during the interview quoting of all people The Love Camel of Bristol with this zinger: I have realized that I am done with conventional penises and from now on I will only dabble with environmentally friendly penises which are the future in penile terms. How useless are dogs? You can’t do a thing with their milk. Afterwards the young, handsome Dr. Getsy treated the doll to a sophisticated brunch at the French bistro Henri located at 18 South Michigan Avenue. My meal was heavenly and the atmosphere divoon with lots of ladies who lunch in this olde fashion boite. Our dimunitive Miss priss of a waiter didn’t seem to be featuring the Vagimule,but I was more amused then distressed by this fact. Later I was able to enjoy a rare afternoon off, so with no pressing duties, I treated myself to a ho stroll down Michigan Avenue and a tempestuous session of leering lasciviously at all the humpy young male college co-eds in flipflops and board shorts. For some reason I kept thinking of Oprah Winfrey and her beard Steadman. I stopped off at a little cute café for a delicious cappuccino and skoan and a handsome bearded young fellow around the age of 30 came up to me and complimented my lecturina from the other day. I gave him one of my business cards, and he said he would look me up when he came to Berlin. We chittle chatted for quite a bit and I flirted outrageously with him. His name is Elliot Bergman and he is in a band with his sister called Wild Belle and he plays the saxophone, I do believe he said that was the instrument he plays which intrigued me. I kept thinking about the White Stripes for some reason, and how when they first started they said they were brother and sister like The Carpenters, who I believe had an incestuous relationship. Several times as he spoke to me he got very close as if he was going to kiss me. I wish he had as it would have upped the ante. I walked around the city for another hour until my feet started to swell so I decided go back to my hotel and enjoy the largesse of my fab suite with its floor to ceiling windows and luxuriant city views. I started reading through the SAIC packet I received on the first day of arriving to Chicago. The president of the school is a black man named Walter E.Massey who looks like a cross between Blaxploitation actor Thalmas Rasulala and black character actor Roscoe Lee Brown from the 1970 film The Liberation of L.B. Jones. Dr. Massey is also a prominent physicist and has been the provost of Historic Black College Morehouse. Having a minority heading the school really sets the tone for so many students of color which is quite novel in the tired US of KKK and A. I also wasn’t aware of all the notable alumni of the school like Rirkrit Tiravanija who I worked with on the Trespass Parade and Festival through West of Rome in Los Angeles in 2011, writer David Sedaris who was at SPEW the homographic convergence back in 1990 and was a good friend of Steve LaFreniere who was stabbed after the performance I did along with G.B. Jones’s band Fifth Column at Hot House, fashion designers Halston and Cynthia Rowley, Jeff Koons, Georgia O’Keeffe, Claus Oldenburg and MGM nelly film director Vincente Minnelli.

LIEBLING DER GOETTER

Chicago, Chicago that glorious town! . . . Hadn’t been to Chieta since 2001 when I opened up for Ms. Margaret Cho on the Notorious C.H.O. tour. Hadn’t been invited as a visiting artist since 1993. I adore Chicago and its corn-fed, free range bubble butt bountiful boy beauties. People are so more relaxed in the mid-west and not so careerist like on the west and east coast. I have had some fantastic successes in Chicago at late great Randolph Street Gallery, The Bop Shop, Czar Bar, The Empty Bottle, HomoCore Chicago, and I recorded my legendary album The White To Be Angry with Steve Albini in Chicago at his home studio. The weather was very summer as opposed to Spring and as a visiting artist at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago I was housed at Comfort Suites Hotel giant 18th floor suite overlooking Michigan Avenue next door to the art deco Carbine and Carbon building. The girls at the front desk of the Comfort Suites were so nice and personable, I forgot how chatty cathy Americans can be. I also chittle chatted with other guests in the hotel and at eateries I was taken to, but of course I didn’t meet any hunks or get laid. 20 years ago on my last visiting artist trip to Chieta I bunked up with a student who became my temporary/contemporary husband. What a booty pie he was. That same kid would be 41 now. God I am an ancient relic. The beautiful Miss Andrea Green director of the visiting artist program picked me up at the Ohare Airport. I packed lightly as my hotel suite featured a washer and dryer. Miss Andrea is breathtakingly exotic looking with sparkling eyes, and one of the most organized young women I have ever met. She eliminated all stress from my visit so that this worry wart didn’t have to bother about a thing. After checking into my suite Miss Andreas took me to a fabu luncheon at the Southwater Kitchen around the corner from my hotel. I usually avoid eating meat, but couldn’t resist one of their meaty meat hamburgers as its hard to get this kind of beef in Berlin which is all about icky snasauges and pork---yuk.My old pal from LA Hector Martinez came to see me even though he just started a new executive position. For years he worked for Affleck Insurance. Hector and his hot muscular Jewish lover of 20 plus years EricLa Pierce just bought a new home overlooking the Silverlake Resourvour. I was jet lagged but Hector took me to this incredible Mexican restaurant called Cuernavaca in the new hipster area of Pilsen. Hector was staying at the University Village loft of his sexy baby brother Danny and gorgeous power bitch sister in-law who are professors at UIC. They were both at a conference in California so Hector had their giant loft flat all to himself and access to their fancy convertible sportscar. I’ve been so spoiled living in Europe and getting invited to Euro Art Festivals and being put in five star hotels with gourmet breakfasts, that I was a bit taken back that The Comfort Suites breaky was so poor with coffee that tasted like a crayon dipped in hot water with plastic cups, plates and utencils. Welcome to the U S of A people! Luckily I was taken out for breakfast at wonderful places like The Palace Grill and The Corner Bakery Café all with scrumpteous fare. The Rich are certainly richer then ever, on every corner of the Millionaire Mile of Michigan Avenue or is it Miracle Mile? was a homeless person holding a cardboard sign. I felt guilty that I was living in the lap of luxury. But lets face it I may be an internationally recognized artist but I still live very hand-to-mouth, have no savings in the bank and I’m the poorest person wearing haute couture. My life is certainly a mixture of startling contradictions, but I've done ok considering I am a ghetto girl.  The day I gave my lecturina at the Art Institutes high tech Rubloff Auditorium everything came together with no hitches. The tech staff Devon & Co and my security detail of Miss Freddie were so helpful and accommodating. The Duchess of Cambridge couldn’t have been treated better. I adored my dressing room and the lecture hall was packed even in the balcony with so many adoring children that I felt like a pop star. Every few years I go in an out of vogue and at the moment I seem to be riding the zeitgeist wavelength. It was so lovely to see a lot of old pals and collaborateurs like Mark “Ears” Freitas of HomoCore Chicago who was looking humpy,tanned and svelte with his booty pie long term companion Doug Zerafa. Olde Ears has also made a name for himself lately as a radikal blue movie fetish shtar. Great to reunite with the vivacious Joanna Brown of HomoCore Chieta and her tasty gal pal Carolyn Kotlarski, also little cuddly David Houle,Mark Ruvolo of No Empathy & Robespiere,Chris Kellner,Michael Gallagher and Erik Peterson. I was given a noteworthy introduction by Dr. David Getsy who is the Goldabelle McComb Finn Distinguished Professor of Art History in the Department of Art History, Theory and Criticism. I met musclebound David two years ago when I was DJing at Schwuz and he set the wheels in motion for this visit. Also in the audience legendary black artiste William Pope.L., the lovely fashion plate Laura-Caroline Johnson, Program Coordinator for Visiting Artist’s, Abina Manning Director of Video Data Bank & Tom Colley Collections Mgr., Roberto Sifuentes, Chair, Performance Department who is a collaborator of Guillermo Gomez Pena,Robin Deacon, Amazonian Assistant Professor, Performance Department,Erica Mott, Adjunct Professor, Performance Department,Johanna Tuukkanen, the stylish Artistic Director of ANTI-Contemporary Art Festival in Kuopio, Finland,Robert Dickson, British Consul General of Chicago,Vern Hester, writer with Windy City Times,Peter Taub, Director of Performance Programs, Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art. Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune and big peniled recording engineer Steve Albini. After my performance lecture they took me to the fancy Park Grill at 11 North Michigan Avenue where I feasted. If you’re in Chicago and someone else is footing the bill go to the Park Grill you won’t regret it. Will write more a little later and sorry for such a long delay.

SHELTER IN PLACE DIRECTIVE

Rising Stars, Falling Stars exploded with a screening of Ken Russell’s nutters version of Oscar Wilde’s Salome’s Last Dance featuring the glorious Oscar winning Glenda Jackson who is now a British MP. The SRO crowd was revelling in the queerer than thou aesthetics of the evening that began with music from the Salome opera and kclavier accompaniment by Scandanavian jihadist Daniel Hendrickson doing a fine George Segal impersonation singing the title song of the Jackson film A Touch of Class. Arsenal Empress Stefanie Schulte Strathaus was radiant and in a festive mood expertly preparing the throngs clamouring to see this rare cinematic gem. The Arsenal’s 35 milimeter print looked sensational. Shout out to large shvanzed crack projectionist Axel who has such lovesexy nervous energy. Staying after the screening for schmooze and booze while that other Miss Nasty Jackson provided the musical score: Salome Gersch and friend enjoying the film of her namesake, glamorous young German artist Paula!, Uli Ziemons, Europe’s sauciest studkin, Markus Ruff of Living Archive Project, photog&video artist Armin Linke,Guggenheim Award recipient Maria Losier, film historian Marc Siegel, intermedia actress Susanne Sachsse,Piero Bellomo of La Collezione,young Israeli Yony Leiser who is some kind of director, German theatre producer Mia Sullivan, beautiful and exotic Polish/Japanese artist Winston Chieminski, British artist and curator Elly Clarke, lovely Berlin based performance artist Sophia of Plan b., Little Alex of Macedonia who styled Ms. Davis with his Venus in the Garden star Alexandro, modern dancer Assaf Hochman, South Afrikan art shtar Athi-Patra Ruga,Noam Gorbat of the Berlinale’s Forum Expanded power team, booty pie curator Simon Castets,fresh faced art wheeler dealer Federico Vavassori,Manuel Rios, the famed Slovakian courtesan and Bel Ami film studio contract player with Corbin Fisher All American matinee idol Christopher Tavi aka: Josh on a Berlin pitstop before meeting high profile government clients in Switzerland, lifestyle entrepreneur Ben Pundole, original Afro Sister Helen “Hell in Bed” O’Neill aka: Urethra Franklin looking svelte and stylish on her European holiday with a bevy of horny teenage boys at her side. Miss Helen is a hoot and sheer delight. Wish I could have spent more time catching up on her hippy-go-lucky life. Miss Helen is one of my oldest and dearest girlfriends, she is a solid good time Sally who loves to drink and she and her younger sister affectionately known as The Hern! Are always the life of every party. I use to work for Helen at her legendary punk rock boutique on Melrose Avenue in the early 1980s called Retail Slut. Having graduated from UC Santa Barbara Miss Helen was also a major originator of the Ventura Queer Scene that revolved around Homo House I and II featuring such scintillating luminaries as the hilarious,late, great Mrs. Jeffrey Burroughs aka: Thing, who one summer evening in the 1980s when he was an underage stricher got picked up by two big black South Central LA roughnecks who he wound up servicing and accompanying on a liquor store robbery spree, punkette minx Diane Palette who straddled the handlebars of a Hell’s Angel chopper doing the puppy chow on the dudes peterfication while he mowed down Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu—I kid you not!, Delectable Dora of Bates Beach and the new wave haberdashery Wilde Planet who at one time ruled a punk rock empire that stretched from Solvang to Nardcore making her one of Ventura Counties wealthiest but completely generous young proper white ladies, Big Dicque Doug Junior who was a sweet innocent twinky pie hornpig exhibitionist, and the fabulous Bushe Bunny who once fell out of a tree at Blow Job Park in West Hollywood while getting sodomized. Darling Bushe whose real name I can’t seem to remember sadly committed suicide a few years before I left California for Germany. He will be forever missed for his loyal friendship,humour and commitment to radikal queer akshunism. May goddess worship bless his Pagan Druid Wiccan soul.

Miss Helen O’Neill’s next stop on her round the world holiday travels is Istanbul, before returning to Poland for languid fornicating with Krakow’s gangbanging post Rave youths.

I never go out to bars as I don’t drink anymore but I went to this little pub in Mitte awhile back to see kJohnny Blue of the Blue Bros fame workshoping his Living Archive project. kJohnny is a major musical talent, gifted and devoted to his craft. For his Living Archive event he will be taking sound fragments from various films in the Arsenal archive and turning it into a musical soundscaping performance which I think is quite the brilliant idea. No film images just musical P’s and Q’s. His workshop performance the other evening didn’t start till very late so I didn’t get to hear much of it as the space was just too smokey for me and my asthmatic condition to handle, and I had an early morning breakfast meeting with a visiting curator. I am anxious to hear the kJohnny eleganza in June when it gets its official premiera during the Living Archive Festival.

I had a juicy Spring fling with a horndoggy 27 year old Russian named Yuraslav Yeltsin who is related to Boris Yeltsin and is a doppleganger to artist Slava Mogutin, only a bit taller and more muscular. It felt a little incestuous since I have been friends with Slava from the time he first came to the States in the 1990s. I got over my initial qualms to thoroughly enjoy the sizzling sexing with this voracious studly Rusky. Hey at my age I may never get another opportunity to make it with a youthquaker. Its funny that after my little sex misadventure I started thinking about my primary school days. This Russian kid I squired had the same kind of penetrating blue/grey eyes of an Irish lad I had a crush on back in the second grade named Shaun. My first great childhood love was a divine Japanese boy who looked just like the artist Dean Sameshima. Shaun was best friends with a nerdy Chinese kid named Russell Lim who I went to school with from grade school to UCLA. We couldn’t escape each other. Russell and Shaun were both part of the MGM(Mentally Gifted Minor) Program. Shaun on the other hand was one of the few white kids living in my inner city neighorhood attending my elementary school on Hobart Blvd. Shaun and the family a Dutch classmate named Patrik white flighted to the suburbs by third grade. When I was in fifth grade there was only two white families with school aged children in my neighbourhood The Taylor’s and the Smit’s. Edward Taylor was a very talented artist and a total goofball. In fourth grade Edward had an openly gay relationship with a mulatto named David Hayes. They shocked the community by making out with each other and fondling shamelessly, not bothering to hide in the least. The administration didn’t know what to do other then try to separate them. But honey it was true love because they couldn’t be parted. Their parents were called in, and didn’t think it was such a big deal just proclaiming that they would tire of each other which they did after the adults stopped freaking out about it. David’s mother Patti Hayes was a casting agent and a very intelligent and striking radical feminist, who was quite friendly with my mother who at the time was leading a lesbian seperatist organization along with a butch teacher of mine named Doris Tepper. David Hayes was a local TV star on KTTV Channel 11’s Student News program, the station that later became the conservative Fox Network. Edward Taylor’s father was a hippy dippy Robert Redford look-a-like circa the film Jeremiah Johnson. Mr.Taylor was extremely sexy and wore Jesus sandles and had big manly Fred Flinstone feet. The Taylor’s lived in a huge three story house in the historic Harvard Heights neighbourhood that was adjacent to mine. The Taylor’s were a very progressive family who put their liberalism where their penis was and never white flighted and were still living in the neighbourhood when I moved out for Hollywood during my punk rock years in the late 1970s. Edward was a dork during elementary school but by the time he turned into a teenager he had blossomed into a hunk like his hot dad. Edward Taylor left the public school system for parochial school attending the Jesuit all boy prep school Loyola High which was walking distance to both of our homes. I wish I could have gone to Loyola as all the boys at that school were rich and incredible looking. During high school I would run into Edward Taylor in the neighbourhood, and he was always friendly and warm. He kind of turned into a bit of a stoner hesher and even had a beautiful black girlfriend who was as dark skinned as he was blondine.

The other white family still in the neighborhood was that of Steven Smit who in the fifth grade got into a huge knock down slug fest with this thugish black boy named Eric Holder, who the entire school was afraid of. Steven was a very angelic looking white kid with ice blonde hair, freckles and a brush style military haircut. In the early 1970s he dressed very Leave it to Beaver. He, his sisters and parents were complete holdouts from the 1950s. It was very odd. When Steven was fighting Eric he called him a dirty filthy nigger. Our teacher Miss Stevenson was quite elderly and on the verge of retirement and she couldn’t separate the two boys, and had to get a male teacher from down the hall to break up the fight. It was very ugly. Soon after the fight Steven left the school and his family white flighted to the suburbs. I was quite friendly with Steven as he was very cute in a Republican sort of way, we were even pen pals writing to each other regularly for several years after his family moved to Chatsworth.

Actually there was some other white families in my neighbourhood but I didn’t really consider them white as they were from Italy and Argentina. On 12th Place at Western Avenue lived this Italian family who had a son who went to college back east. Whenever he was home his motorcycle was parked in their driveway. He had longish dark blonde hair and looked a little like Joe Dellasandro mixed with Jan-Michael Vincente. He gave me rides sometimes on the back of his motorcycle, and holding his waiste sent a thrill up my spine. The Argentine family of all strapping sons lived on Oxford Drive next to the Pico Pico branch of the public library. The son who was my age was Frank Valentine and he was very sexy as a kid and as he grew older he got even sexier with broad shoulders and a muscular masculine gruff manner. Frank started seeing this Japanese girl who lived on my street named Betty Uyemura. Betty and I had been rivals since second grade. Betty was an overachiever who always got top grades and held all the attention from the teachers. Betty wound up getting knocked up by Frank, who had quit school in the 9th grade to work in his father’s auto shop and later joined the military, got married to Betty and they both moved away to God-knows-where-land.

On the next block Serrano and 12th Street was a gorgeous craftsman house built in the teens, that had the most manicured front and back yard with fruit trees. An elderly German couple lived in this house and they were very mean and nasty to all the children in the neighbourhood except for me for some reason. I think they liked me because my mother was the only one in the neighbourhood who could speak fluent German with them. My mother’s neighbourhood in Louisiana was very multi-cultural with Creoles, Italians and Germans all living closely together. My mother for some reason could pick up languages very easily. I wish I had that talent. Besides French Creole, Italian and German my mother could speak Spanish, Japanese and Korean. The elderly German couple who lived in this pristine house my mother called Adolphe and Eva behind their back. She was very nice to them to their face but actually couldn’t stand them. She felt that they were Nazi sympathizers. Adolphe died around 1973 and then a few years later Ava passed. Their grown children sold the house and a Latino family from El Salvador bought it. Like a lot of American cities Los Angeles had a sizeable German immigrant population.There was another German immigrant woman on Hobart Blvd at 14th street that lived as a barricaded shut-in in her tiny gingerbread looking house. She only came out to invite my mother in for coffee and cake klatch. My mother liked her a little better then Adolph&Eva, but not much better as the woman complained about everything. I think she was just lonely. My mother said this woman must have stayed glued to her window in hopes my mother would pass by. Sometimes my mother would take the long way around on her way to shopping center just to avoid having to chittle chat with the lady. When the woman died she had no relatives and had bequethed my mother $15,000 in her will, but my mother didn’t accept the money so it went to various Catholic charities with the rest of what was quite a sizeable fortune. In the paper it was revealed that this woman who my mother called Frauline Frizzled whose real name I never knew was quite wealthy and owned lots of property throughout South Central Los Angeles,but chose to live in this rather modest house. When my grandmother, my mother’s mother died she left a lot of money to be divided by her three surviving children, my mother, Aunt Florine Corine and Uncle I Like Ike, but my mother was so stubborn she refused that money as well.

My high school Los Angeles High is the oldest public school in the city built in 1873. Famous grads include Ray Bradbury, Dustin Hoffman, and Anna May Wong. The school sits on Olympic Blvd & Rimpau right next to the super wealthy olde money enclave of Hancock Park. Kids who live in Hancock Park don’t attend public school, but if they did it would have been LA High. The only kid from Hancock Park who did go to LA High was this unusual blond haired white boy named John Pluntze. John wasn’t good looking, but he wasn’t ugly either. There was something very charming about him, and he had a seductive personality. I was the editor of my high school newspaper The Blue & White and he was one of my ace reporters. We were friendly with each other but were never really friends. John was very straight and surprisingly was quite the player. I never figured out how he was so successful in juggling so many girls. At lunch time he could be found behind some building on campus in high daddy mack romancing mode. All I can say is that John Pluntze must have been packing some major meat for so many black girls in my school to be that crazy for him. Come to think of it he was carrying around a pretty hefty package. Its not like he was the only white guy in the school. There were a few others but they were raised in deepest darkest Funkytown so they talked and acted very negroid and John Pluntze was very olde school white dude, in fact he was super white. At LA High school there was this one white kid who was on the baseball team and lived in that neighbourhood northwest of the Santa Monica Freeway. He and his sister were very ghetto, and I think they were even Muslims because the sister was friends with my Muslim convert BFF Renita McCain. The other white boy was on the track team and I thought at first he was just a light skinned black boy, but one of his friends who was on the school paper told me that he wasn’t mixed and that his white father married a black lady who was his stepmother and raised him from a baby. Before John Pluntze graduated from high school he caused a major scandal having an affair with a youngish black lady teacher who had been the younger lesbian lover of Ms. Maybloom my 11th grade AP History teacher. I never liked Ms. Maybloom for some reason, and she detested me because I would always challenge her in class in my quiet little polite way that really irritated her. Most of the teachers at my high school couldn’t stand me. Especially Mrs. Marcia Grimmer . Talk about a fitting name for someone. She was extremely grimm and the advisor to the school newspaper staff. She didn’t really know anything about journalism, she was mainly the French teacher, but she got in good with the principle and he made her our advisor. Boy did we ever clash. But I pulled her down a peg when I became the first person in the history of the school district to win first place in the Statewide Journalism competition for news writing, which wasn’t even my forte since I was a features writer. Mrs. Grimmer even discouraged me from entering the competition-some advisor she was. When I won the whole district made a huge deal out of it because it entitled them to get special funds from the government. And I made Mrs. Grimmer look good with the principle, the superintendent of schools and Mayor Tom Bradley. Mrs. Grimmer really hated me when in an article in the LA Times I spilled the beans on how she didn’t want me to enter the competition thinking I would embarrass myself and the school. The competition was really tough and was held on the posh campus of Pepperdine University. I even won a scholarship to attend that school,but because its run by a fundamentalist church I declined. All freshmen at Pepperdine are forced to attend chapel services. The boys at that school were super sexy surfer dudes with smoking bods and huge feet. Their water polo players were the most ultimate dreamy specimens of beefcake alive. Looking back it was really some feat that I beat out all these other wealthier schools in the state. I guess in many ways I did become a journalist, writing for years for the LA Weekly, publishing my own independent publications and writing for many mainstream art, fashion and culture magazines and newspapers. Who would have thunk?

O at LA High School there was also this handsome, tall Israeli boy who transferred to my school from a Hebrew High School on the Westside of Los Angeles. He had the most gorgeous green eyes and was very hairy and smolderingly swarthy and filled with complete sexual bravado. I remember him and John Pluntze were in competition for the affections of all the hottest black girls in the school. Well I think the Israeli won.



I wonder what happened to the Israeli or John Pluntze who I heard went to Cal State LA for college. Considering John Pluntze came from a wealthy Hancock Park family his choice of higher learning was quite uninspiring.

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The gifted, super masculine ginger haired Los Angeles based artist Patrick Lee has a solo show in New York that opens April 25th at Ameringer McEney Yohe Gallery 525 West 22nd Street NYC 10011. Opening reception is 6-8pm and the show runs till May 25th. For more information go to www.amy-nyc.com

SALOME,WHERE SHE DANCED

Rising Stars Falling Stars - with Vaginal Davis & Oscar Wilde & Glenda Jackson - April 2013 by Filmanzeiger on Mixcloud

ZUM GOLDENEN EINHORN

Can’t wait to read the Debbie Reynolds autobiography Unsinkable and the autobiography by punk legend Richard Hell called I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp. Have a crush on a cute young Korean American rapper from LA’s Koreatown who goes by the very creative moniker of Dumbfoundead. This lovesexy kid better not get too close to the Vagimule doll or he will wind up sitting on my raw face-yummy.

The other day I passed by the apartment in Schoeneberg where the great Christopher Isherwood lived in the late 1920s to early 1930s here in Berlin. There is a plaque hanging out in front marking the residence as having historical significance. Back in the 1980s my nutty friend Michael Reynolds and his older lover Walter were next door neighbors in Santa Monica Canyon to Christopher Isherwood and his longtime companion the painter Don Bachardy. It was through Michael & Walter that I met Mr. Isherwood and Mr. Bachardy. Michael Reynolds was a fan and follower of my performance group The Afro Sisters. I even put Michael in a few performances and photos shoots back in the 1980s. Michael was such a trip. He met his lover Walter when he was 16 years old and they have been together since that time. He was Walter’s child bride. Walter made his money from the entertainment field I believe, but don’t hold me to that as its been so many years my memory fails me. I don’t know what became of Michael & Walter as we lost touch with each other after the Afro Sisters disbanded in 1989. I could never tell if Michael was high from alcohol or Marijuana as he appeared to be in some state of intoxication on a permanent basis. I was never much of a beach person, but occasionally I would hang out with Michael & Walter during the 1980s at the SS Friendship on West Channel Road which is one of the oldest gay pubs in Los Angeles. There use to be more gay bars in Santa Monica and Venice from the 1940s on but that scene sort of dried up. Besides The Friendship there is the restaurant The Golden Bull which I think is still there. Mr. Bachardy still lives in the Santa Monica Canyon not far from Ginger Rogers State Beach. I posed for Mr. Bachardy as he painted me for a series of portraits at his beautiful home that he shared with Christopher Isherwood. This was a few years before I left Los Angeles for good moving to Berlin. I remember Mr. Bacardy as a sweet older gentleman and very gracious who spoke with a slight affected British accent that he picked up from his years with Mr. Isherwood. Back in the 1980s I had a shortlived romantic relationship with a performer named John Sullivan of the band The Dispossessed who also lived in the canyon not far from the Isherwood/Bachardy’s. John’s small house was nothing but a beach shack like that of Moondoggy from The Sandra Dee Gidget movie. Both Michael Reynolds and Mr. Isherwood had crushes on John Sullivan who was no great beauty, but had a certain kind of masculine charm, a lovely smile and a bubble butt that was rounder and firmer then Beyonce’s. John was basically straight when he had his fling with me which only lasted six months. After John Sullivan dumped me he went out with John Fleck for a while, then met an older woman and settled down with her in Venice, California near the canals.
 If you’re visiting Europa you may want to check out this opening at Exile Gallery in Berlin and another event in Spain that is being put on by the wonderful Argentine artist Cristian Forte of  the music/art project Leiseylento . The info is in Spanish so scroll down for the English version.

Opening Invitation and Catalog Launch  Friday, April 19, 7-10 pm Kazuko Miyamoto: Container
Exhibition duration: April 19 - May 25, 2013(Please click on image for further information) Celebrating Miyamoto's third solo exhibition at the gallery a limited edition monograph will be published. As the first extensive catalog dedicated to her works, this publication features previously unpublished photographs and documentation as well as texts written by Marilena Bonomo, Luca Cerizza, Janet Passehl and Lawrence Alloway.
Catalog: Kazuko Miyamoto, 24 x 16,5 cm, 128 pages, full color, offset, linen bound hardcover. Edition of 400. To reserve a copy please email the gallery: info@thisisexile.com Concurrently Miyamoto works are also included in the exhibition Conceptual Tendencies II at Daimler Art Collection in Berlin. Skalitzer Str 104, Aufgang A, HH-EG links
10997 Berlin-Kreuzberg. U1 Görlitzer Bahnhof
(in englisch below)
Milena Berlín presenta: USTED nueva edición en formato Audioleporello de José-Pablo Jofré con piezas sonoras de Mario Peña y Lillo Sábado 20 de abril - 20 hs. Galería Balaguer Consell de Cent, 315 entresuelo, 2ª. 08007. Barcelona, España. (Amigxs, por favor, renvien la info a sus amigos escritores, poetas, artistas y lectores en Barcelona) Milena Berlin presenta en Barcelona el audioleporello 'Usted' de José-Pablo Jofré. El audio-libro en forma de acordeón en homenaje a 'El mal de la muerte' de Marguerite Duras incluye la sección homónima del poemario 'Extranjería', así como los poemas BESO, TORSO (en 'Abecedario', Siníndice 2012) y YOUKALI. La edición va acompañada de un CD que registra los nueve poemas transformados en piezas de arte sonoro realizadas por el compositor Mario Peña y Lillo.
'Usted' nace a partir de la instalación realizada por Mario y José-Pablo para la colectiva 'I don't believe in you but i believe in love' comisariada por Paola Marugán que se presenta en la Galería Balaguer hasta el 15 de junio. Los temas de la exposición que traspasa los poemas y la instalación son los afectos, las emociones y los deseos del sujeto moderno en la sociedad actual, e invita a reflexionar sobre cómo ciertos órdenes institucionales han colonizado lo más íntimo del ser humano: una crítica a las formas de amar en el capitalismo cool.
La presentación del nuevo libro de Milena Berlín y de la instalación sonora se realizará en la Galería Balaguer de Barcelona el próximo sábado 20 de abril a las 20 horas y participarán el editor Cristian Forte, así como la comisaria Paola Marugán y el compositor Mario Peña y Lillo.
La primera edición del audioleporell ino 'Usted' tiene una tirada de 50 ejemplares que ya se encuentran a la venta en la Galería Balaguer a 17 euros –disponibles sólo quedan 30–. Además, en los próximos días será posible comprarlo en internet a través del sitio Kaleuxe.net.
Milena Berlin presents in Barcelona the audioleporello 'Usted' by José-Pablo Jofré. The audio-libro in the form of accordion in homage to 'The malady of death' of Marguerite Duras includes the homonymous section of the collection of poems 'Extranjería', as well the poems BESO, TORSO ('Abecedario', Sinindice 2012) and YOUKALI. The Edition is accompanied by a CD with the nine poems transformed into sound art pieces made by the composer Mario Peña y Lillo.
'Usted' is the object-part of the sound installation made by Mario and Jose-Pablo for the group exhibition 'I don't believe in you but i believe in love' curated by Paola Marugán (in the Balaguer Gallery until 15th June). The issue of the exhibition are the affective life, feelings and desires of subjects in contemporary society and provokes a reflection on how certain institutions (such as advertising, conventional science, the pharmaceutical industry and market forces) have colonized our most intimate selves: a critical review of the different modes of loving in today’s ‘cool capitalism’.
The presentation of Milena's new book and the sound installation will be held next saturday 20th April in the Gallery Balaguer in Barcelona at 8 pm with publisher Cristian Forte, curator Paola Marugán and composer Mario Peña y Lillo.
The first edition of the audioleporello 'Usted' has only 50 copies that are already on sale in the Gallery Balaguer to 17 euros. In addition, in the coming days, it is possible to buy it online in the website Kaleuxe.net.
http://milenaberlin.blogspot.de/
http://es.josepablojofre.com/
http://www.galeriabalaguer.com/es/exposiciones

WORUEBER MAN NICHT SPRECHEN KANN

Caught up with baby diaper Joel Gibb of the Hidden Cameras who took me to bruncheon at the new Rixdorf vegan hotspot Cafe Vux which is owned by an awkward skinny Brazilian who looks like he could use a hamburger or some semen for protein.  It was an all-you-can-eat feast that was quite delectable.  Afterwards we took advantage of the warm Spring weather to frolic in a nearby NeuKoelln park for some girlish gossip and kutesy klatch.  Mr. Gibb had spent his birthday partying down in Los Angeles with my old pal and collaborator Miss Glen Meadmore, cinematographer Lawrence Ebert (The White To Be Angry/Days of Pentacost), Barbara of Carpenteria, Stuart Comer of The Tate Modern, and Michael Stipe of REM fame as well as attending a music festival in Baja, Mexico.   

STEUER FETISCHISTEN

I never go out on the weekends as I can’t stand all the loud and unruly party tourists and bridge&tunnel children from the provinces who come into Berlin to binge drink and turn the S&U-Bahns into vomitoriums.  Because the weather has finally warmed up a bit, Friday night was quite antic as I met up with the Scandinavian Muslim and hisTurkish academic pal JoFlo at HAU 2 to see the debut of Pauline Beaudry’s new music/art project Normal Love.  Passing the WAU Café I noticed the horrible bright lighting in the place and also saw the icky animal posters that won some kind of design award for rotten tomatoes.  The general verdict out on the new programming at HAU from people I’ve talked to is that the dance curation is excellent and inspiring, that the music section is consistent with Christophe Gork remaining in that position from when Mattias Lienthal was in charge, but that the theatre programming is somewhat lacklustre  and safe with a heavy emphasis on theatre groups from The Netherlands which makes since as the new artistic director is Dutch. 

It was exciting to be at an event where there was so much juicy eye candy with a mixed group of young and old with lots of beauties abounding.  I get so sick of going places where there are fugly men who look like doughy overgrown babies.  Not young like a baby but more like an unformed human.  Well getting back to the concert.  The music was fantastic and soaring at times with Ms. Beaudry sharing vocals with a fetching femme-ish young man.  My favorite moments was when they just unabashedly rocked out with joy and passion. I never got a chance to see the band that Pauline was in before called Rhythm King and her Friends, but this new project is quite invigorating.  Seen in the SRO crowd the lovesexxxy Ms. Nanna Heidenreich, super talented DJane’s Bianca Kruk & Olga Damnitz, artist Angela Melitoupolous, Anna Muelter, and sweet post porn scholar Tim Stuettgen, Anne Quirynen & galpal