The Olive Branch Of Venice

Sometimes, when time permits, I like to take weird roads that I never go down, to see what might be new and undiscovered. This is the best when you're walking, to really slow down and see things, and Venice is the perfect place to do it. I've lived here almost twenty years now, and am still coming across streets and scenes I've never been on or seen before. Like the other day when I took a left and found myself on Olive Street.

It's a short little street tucked in between Venice and Washington Boulevards, very quiet, pretty modest and normal homes (with character!) still over there ... a real neighborhood. And from the looks of it, a fun one.

Someone has taken parts of tables and chairs and affixed them right into their fence, for seemingly no good reason other than it's fun. I liked these strangers already, but then their clear appreciation for the beach sealed the deal.

This is the kind of stuff that I love bumping into around town, and another example why this place is so special, and why we must keep it so. But you knew that already.

Now, in taking their wise direction ... to the Beach!

The Weir-Quitons and Their ArtiStore

It's a drag to be sick when you live in Venice because you know so much is going on outside without you. Last weekend found me almost all better, and that meant hitting the ground running to catch up on the multitude of stories that await being told in our new year, 2016! I have tons of story ideas, but when a new year begins, I think a lot of people are thinking about things to change, things to accomplish, and new things to learn. It's a nice mile marker in the calendar to see what all you soaked up in a year's time, so I got to thinking about classes and lessons of cool things and now they just keep springing up.

Because it's Venice, I decided to start with art. ART! That alone is so wide open, so there really is something for everyone. I heard they opened up an ArtiStore over on Sunset Avenue, in the Pamela Weir-Quiton gallery space, and that they were also offering all kinds of classes. I headed over there as soon as I was back to normal, and I'm so glad I did. What a wonderful, Venice-full spot!

I was welcomed in by store manager, Yas Niktash, who told me that the store had been open about six months. With artist neighbors all around being forced out by greedy landlords (my take, not theirs, but it's true), the Weir-Quitons had to do something to keep the roof they've worked under since the 1970's over their head. They thought, "Open the doors." The galleries have been open during the wonderful ArtBlocks, but there had never been a retail space for their work to be featured in ... so now there is.

The store space is full of ArtBlock artists' wares, from the wonderful painted pieces and books by Rohitash Rao to the vibrant photography of Eric Schwabel, and so many in between that there is a phone book size catalog to browse.

We sat chatting among all the great works of art for sale (and what better gift with a sense of place than a piece of art from a local artist? None.), as people strolling by from Gjusta or out walking their dogs and strollers would pop in and find out that this treasure was here ... because most didn't already know.

While answering questions about the art and galleries, Niktash also offered up to everyone that there were also classes available - and every single person seemed generally interested. I think most people have a soft soft in them for their art classes growing up (when schools still had them - ugh), and would for sure still get a kick out of it today.

So you can take live drawing and illustration workshops (and Parent-Child classes!) from Pamela's husband, Gregroy Weir-Quiton (they hyphened both their last names), a charming guy who you can see is crazy about his wife of many decades (and vice-versa), ever since they met at the old Bullock's department store.

Both were highly interested in fashion, and working as an illustrator and in administration, respectively. Pamela was fresh from the Barbizon Hotel in New York, with her early Vidal Sassoon five point haircut, and turned Gregory's head permanently. They are so darling, and so supportive, it actually restores one's hope in true love. For real. *Interesting trivia: Gregory did the Dreamworks logo with the boy fishing off the moon. Which I love.

You may also take woodshop from Pamela, which I also heard is no longer offered in schools. What in the world are they still teaching kids?! I digress ... back to how much I want to take one of Pamela's classes! There's one coming up where she'll teach students how to cut out a beautiful wooden heart for Valentine's Day ... or just because they're beautiful.

We sat in her wood shop (called the Heart Center), and she told me all about her love for woodworking, and her enthusiasm was both palpable and contagious. While her military family was living in Alaska, Pamela became interested in working with wood, and ultimately received her degree in Woodshop from Cal State - Northridge. She got a bunch of press for a wooden doll she made, which led to design shows, which led to national press, which led to her being this famous 21 year old functional wood sculpture artist gaining commissions for bank lobbies and things. Because she was doing what she loved. And still is.


Teaching classes has been eye-opening and given the Weir-Quitons new inspiration by seeing their students so inspired. Their own love of what they do is inspiring others, and that's about the best life you can live, in my book.

Pamela wasn't allowed to take woodshop class as a young girl - because she was a girl - so she is entirely making up for it now. Wandering through her vast studio/gallery/workspace is like being in a toy factory of the finest kind. Menageries of animals surround you, gorgeous rocking horses, and serious works of art doll sculptures. "It's a creative Disneyland," she explained truthfully.

The wonderful space was 15 cents a foot back in 1973 when the Weir-Quitons moved in, $150 a month. 43 years later, that is no longer the case, but they're hanging in there, doing things like opening The ArtiStore because they love this building to the point where Pamela said it would be hard for her to choose between dying there or in her home. That's love, and you can feel it in every nook and cranny.

After hearing all about the history and inspiration, we lost time just talking about art and life and all good things ... like how when you get so excited and inspired by something you're doing that you practically levitate - "Trust that feeling." Like when she told me, "I'm in touch with being a spark ... I just want to be creative, and to inspire others to be so too." I loved that. She showed me some black star  wooden wands she had made right before David Bowie died, another soul in touch with being a spark.

"My whole thing is about pLAy," says Pamela (who also loves words like me, and likes to point out the LA in them), which is evident, because you can't help but have fun around her, even while just talking - to the point that we didn't even realize that it was closing time.

To wrap up and let her get out of there, I asked Pamela her feelings about Venice. She gazed ahead thoughtfully for a moment before sagely responding, "In a word, it's ENERGY." That is so often the answer when I pose that question, so you know there's something to it. She told me about how she feels differently about the Venice art community since the ArtBlocks began, because she used to just focus on her work in the studio, and then go home. Once the artists of the ArtBlock came together (and formed pretty much the whole thing in one night's meeting!), she feels so much more a part of a community, one that is special and sacred. "I want to live in a creative Venice. The energy in Venice is in flux right now, but it's alive. It's palpable. There's a fire underneath it. Look, you couldn't make this happen in Benedict Canyon." And she's completely right.

"I'm opening up my workspace to inspire people to make their own art," explains Pamela, and that's a great way of keeping Venice about the art, and about the fun. The more artists, the better! The more fun the better! Right? Right. (Some might think the classes are kind of expensive, but I look at it like it's a lifetime skill, and a lifetime of enjoyment, and way better than stuff. Thus, way worth it.)

My wonderful new friend Pamela had this to say in closing, and I can't say it any better ... "Come to PameLA's PLAground (see, LA in both!)! Have fun! Be inspired! Never get old! Make things!"

And off you go ...

The ArtiStore
360 Sunset Avenue
Venice

Classes by appointment:
http://www.pamelaweir-quiton.com

We Can Be Heroes Forever And Ever

2016 has seen the loss of some real, real cool people already. Instead of feeling the optimism and hope of a new year, it has really felt pretty sad so far (It may also have something to do with the gnarly cold I've had all year so far, but still). First, the loss of Mötorhead's Lemmy Kilmister - everyone's favorite rocker/party animal/great guy/legend from the dread awful cancer, saddening the whole world of rock and roll ... and then ... THEN ... David Bowie. Cancer again. Gone. I didn't even know how sad that would make me until I heard the news late Sunday night and tears involuntarily rolled down my face.

I never got to see David Bowie live, and that's a regret I'll always have, but he sure was a big part of my growing up. He was all over MTV in the 80's, and we all knew from a very young age that Bowie was something special. That he didn't give a dang what anyone thought of him, and neither should we. That you could express yourself in the most wild, outlandish fashion with ideas fresh from a dream that might not make sense to anyone else, and still be all the cooler for it. Now everyone has to step up and be cooler, be kinder ... because an awful lot of cool was just deleted, and we've all got to make up for it.

Artist Jules Muck painted a great mural on the side of Timewarp Records on Venice Boulevard of both Lemmy and Bowie, creating an instant memorial for fans to show their respect. The Townhouse hosted an all David Bowie listening/dancing party last night, so that everyone feeling all these feelings would have somewhere to go to share them. Bowie's hometown of Brixton in the U.K. had a spontaneous singalong of hundreds of people coming together to joyously sing "Starman" to celebrate the fact that we ever got to have such a presence among us in our lifetime. That sounds grandiose, but when you see every single social media feed showing nothing but Bowie, and just know that everyone around the entire globe was spinning Bowie records ... it IS pretty huge.

What a way to be remembered. And reminded ... that absolutely every single one of us can be Heroes. And should be.

Forever and ever.

*Mural photo courtesy of Miss Jessica Long

After The Rain ...

Los Angeles is finally FINALLY getting some so badly needed rain, and it's great. People don't really know how to handle it that well, but I think we can all agree it's great. It's even kind of great when you're sick, because it makes you feel like you're really not missing anything out there. Except you are. Look at the beauty captured by my brilliant friend, Mike Ozier!

Pouring rainy day ... but with light at the end of it. Like I was feeling extra sick ... but now am starting to feel better. And just when I was feeling like a corner has been turned with my health, my brother Paul texted me a photo of a massive double rainbow. A sign!

It's all going to be fine. Sometimes we just need reminders to slow down. To look at the bigger picture. To value what we have when we have it ... our health, and our sunshine. And that we can all be rainbows.

Love, your hippie friend CJ


*Pier photo by Michael Ozier
*Rainbow photo by Paul Gronner Photography

A Holiday Medley And A Happy New Year!

Things were so crazy before I left for the holidays that I never got to say THANK YOU/TUSEN TAKK to all the fun folks who came out for Glögg Fest 2015! We ate, drank, and were merry, and it was the perfect send-off for my time back home in the Minnesota snow globe.

Only there was no snow in the snow globe. It looked like Tim Burton Christmas when I landed in Minneapolis, and jackets weren't really even necessary when we had our family dinner at Murray's a couple of nights before Christmas. Everyone in Minnesota seemed pretty happy about this ... I was not. Minnesota is not supposed to be brown in December. Sorry.

We did all the usual running around leading up to Christmas ... shopping, meeting up with friends, seeing Star Wars, taking in a Minnesota Wild game with the Nelsons ... all the usual good kind of madness. It was nice then, to take a moment to appreciate the silent and calm night when we finally sat down for the Christmas Eve service at Mindekirken. It was so beautiful that I cried and could barely sing ... as usual.

Christmas Day found us enjoying the fun and chaos of Christmas at the Hendrickson's, where it was a joy to catch up with everyone, and see how much bigger the kids had grown. We had a Christmas miracle when we got just about everyone gathered around at once to take our Spartan Christmas photo! Always a classic ...

The party went pretty late on Christmas night, late enough for us all to see it begin to snow, and I mean SNOW! It continued on all night long, and the barren trees were quickly transformed into branches of confectioner's sugar, all sparkling and perfectly white. I was so happy I couldn't contain myself, and my brother Paul and I soon realized that we had to stay up all night long, walking around in it all. Bur first, we had to get our Mom outside to take photos of her with the snowstorm swirling around her. Because, of course!

We're very lucky that our Mom is such a good sport. The kind of Mom that not only thinks it's great that you're out capturing beauty in the middle of the night, but will have hot chocolate waiting for you to warm up with.

Brother P and I both agree that it was one of the best walks of our entire lives ... all flawless perfection, surrounded with the kind of silence that only comes with a true snowfall. Magic.

I raced around doing all the holiday in Minnesota greatest hits ... Fa la lattes at Caribou with friends, a birthday skating party at The Depot for Kate ...

... A Vikings game watched with leftovers and best friends ... a visit to the Walker for the great Hippie Modernism show (where you could lie in hammocks and listen to Hendrix!).

I decided to stay in Minnesota for New Year's Eve this year, without even a hint of a plan. For years I've been hearing about how Woodlake Nature Center lines the winter pathways with luminarias on New Year's Eve, for people to ski, snowshoe, and walk around the candlelit nature and reflect on the year behind and to come (that's what I wanted to do, anyway), and I was all over that.

It was so beautiful you almost couldn't stand it ... but it was also super, extra cold, and I for sure couldn't stand that. We didn't make it all the way around, but long enough to appreciate how gorgeous it was outside, and how good it would feel when we got back inside.

Inside was a wonderful crab legs dinner at my dear friends', The Krsniks, house. Everything was absolutely perfect ... best friends, delicious food, wine flowing ... and then a horrible feeling of nausea passed over me at the same time a burning sensation began in my throat. Oh, NO! All the putting off of a cold I'd been doing before the holidays had finally caught up with me. I was in bed by 10:30 pm on New Year's Eve. Great.

My Mom got me up to see the ball drop. I nodded, said a muted "Happy New Year!" and was right back in bed. I flew back all super sick, and just today have ventured outside of my room for the first time (reluctantly, but work calls). It wasn't my ideal way to start a new year, but I'm not mad. It's all uphill from here!

I have mad library books to read (and books to write!) so it was all good, especially when I saw a lovely first sunset outside my sickbed window.

I might say this every year, but I really have a good feeling about 2016. Sweet '16! Oh, the stories we'll tell! Fittingly, my horoscope this morning contained a quote, "No one else sees the world the way you do, so no one else can tell the stories that you have to tell." - Charles de Lint

Exactly. Looking forward to sharing them all with you in this exceptional new year. CHEERS to us all, everywhere! Happiest New Year.

The Venice Art Crawl: Holiday Edition!

The Holiday version of the Venice Art Crawl took place last night, and as usual, it was a complete treat for the neighborhood. Also as usual, you pretty much need a jet pack to get around to all the spots, but even without the jet pack (that we were promised by now!), I did pretty good. REALLY good, considering I was on foot (slightly faster than actually crawling) and had no map.

I was wrapping up things with work to get away for the holidays, so didn't get down to the Venice Pier in time to see the Electric Bike Parade take off, and would have loved to have taken part in that, seeing all the fun they had. I got home and hit the ground walking, starting off at Will Leather Goods on Abbot Kinney where Jules Muck was back in town and doing live paintings on leather. Of peoples' pets!

People queued up to get their little dog or cat portrait painted by Muck on a wallet, bag, or even a soccer ball. It was great to see Jules again, and great to see people get so excited about both her work and their pets.

Carrying on down Abbot Kinney, there were a lot of people out and about, but I was on a mission that could not be stopped unless it involved art. I got to In Heroes We Trust just a little too late to enjoy their  holiday nog ...

... But the holiday cheer was in full effect nonetheless, with revelers bundled up to combat the slight chill that we all think is Winter here. There was art, there was hula hooping (even in tiny toddler sizes, that one little moppet kept slamming into me with, and it was no problem), and there were gifts galore in case you could tear yourself away from the partying to check some things off your list.

I checked a great thing off of my list when I headed over to General Admission to have my Locals Only (awesome SoCal skate culture in the '70s photo book) book signed by the photographer, Hugh Holland. They had prints and Tshirts of the iconic photos available as well, which would make the perfect gift for the surfer or skater in your life (as would anything from Venice Originals, but they were closed for the night).

Across the street at Gotta Have It, it was going off, with both live music and live coloring, courtesy of their featured artist, Jared Hoffman.

They aren't included on the VAC map (that I still couldn't find and vastly prefer to the phone app to check things off!) for some reason that needs to be sorted out, because their art and parties at the Art Crawls are always one of the highlights for me.

Last night was no different, as a packed house spilled out on to the sidewalk, where I added a little purple to the coloring poster outside. Super fun, every time, bumping into friends left and right - which is actually the very best part of the VAC, even more than the art.

But the art is always rad, and the point of it all. I hitched a ride down to Washington to say hello to my fun friend, Michelle Blackmon at her great new space that featured the art of Lindsey Nobel, the live music of Christopher Hawley, and a light show by Todd Alter (and a spin art thing that you could do yourself!). It was great, and extra festive over there.

We passed some urban Carolers on the street, which I always love (my name is a verb at this time of the year!), and hit up Arbor (where you could get your photos printed on wood by Lindsey from The Blocksmith) and The Cow's End (where the great Outi Harma, Mark Saterlee and Roitash Rao were showing their work, and in Rao's case, live painting on trash. Awesome).

We popped in to Maui and Sons to see the work of Todd Goodman and Martin Cohen - awesome again. We're SO lucky to have so many talented people everywhere you turn! It sure keeps it interesting in these parts. Snowflakes were projected on all the buildings in Washington Square, so we could kind of fake that we have Winter (and it WAS pretty cold by the water).

I still couldn't find a map, so I missed some places that I didn't know were showing, but had heard there were things happening in the Venice Pier parking lot. Due to time, I missed the whole actual pier (which I found out later had art in all the little alcoves along the pier - bummer), but I did finally get to see inside of the Yellow Submarine. It was kind of strange, with people just climbing in, sitting on the fuzzy benches, and staring it each other. Okay, great, Clark Griswold nod, bounce.

Someone told me there was a giant Nativity scene set up in the parking lot made out of black lights and glow in the dark stuff, which sounded so Venice and awesome, it was kind of the point for us heading that direction. We looked all over and saw nothing of the sort ... until I saw a little cluster of people looking at the back of a pickup truck bed. We walked over and sure enough, there was the Nativity. Not exactly life sized, as I'd heard, but beautiful all the same, and had made by someone's Dad, according to the dog eared map I finally found on the ground. It was lovely.

I got a text to get over to the party at the corner of Venice and Abbot Kinney, which I guess is now called The Kinney Collective. I stopped at my house to drop stuff off, and when we walked down Abbot Kinney to the party, it was simply great. I could hear the music of my friends in the band, Nocona, welcoming the whole town to come and celebrate the holiday.

Local artists (Gary Palmer, etc ...), artisans (some of the cutest lingerie I've seen in a long while by CantiqLA), and neighbors came together to kick up our holiday heels right there on the corner in the center of Venice, and it was a blast. The Electric Bike Parade wound up there too, so we all came full circle, and we all loved every minute of it, staying put there until the end.

As I talk about becoming the circle, this morning I had to head back over to Washington to see in daylight the mural by Francisco Letelier that was rescued from the Pioneer Bakery, titled Becoming The Circle. It shows our People, residents of Venice, as we continue to endure the rapid change here, while trying desperately to maintain what we love about Venice. Like wonderful things such as the Art Crawl.

It was a perfectly festive note to wind up the Art Crawl year, with warmth and good tidings tangibly felt at every stop (and, as ever, apologies to all the stops I missed!). Thank you to all from the VAC that continue to work hard to provide such an absolutely Venice experience for everyone who attends. And HAPPIEST Holidays to you all!

With love.