#louvers tuesday

[interiorfashion1]

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[theculturedmarxist]

A few days ago U.S. President Joe Biden announced the training of Ukrainian pilots for the F-16 multirole fighter aircraft:

President Joe Biden told G7 leaders on Friday that the US would join in efforts to train Ukraine’s pilots on fourth generation fighter jets including the F-16s, a senior administration official told CNN on Friday.

This has obviously been in the planning for some time. The timing of the announcement at the G7 summit was simply chosen to maximize the propaganda value for Biden.

The process we have seen has repeated itself again and again. As pro-Ukrainian blogger (with no military knowledge) describes it:

This has clearly become a proxy war between Russia and NATO, supercharging the political considerations inherent to any war. Ukraine’s goal is to wheedle as much military aid as humanly possibly out of NATO, especially the United States. The United States’ goal is more complex: give enough aid to push Russia back, but not so much that its proxy war with Russia escalates into an actual one.

This dynamic has created a Hunger Games scenario where Ukraine is constantly playing to the cameras to cajole extra gifts from the wealthy sponsors who watch its every move over the internet in real time. I had decided against using this analogy until I saw Ukrainians themselves using it. There is something grotesque and sobering about finding yourself in this position, and writing about it. But it is what it is.

I had assumed that F-16 training had in fact already started several weeks back. The EU blabber mouth Josep Borrell now all but confirmed it:

The European Union’s foreign policy chief said on Tuesday that the US green light to allow Ukrainian pilots to get training to fly F-16s has created an inexorable momentum that will inevitably bring the fighter jets to the Ukrainian battlefield. … Borrell added that training for Ukrainian pilots had already begun in Poland and some other countries, though authorities in Warsaw could not immediately confirm the news. The Netherlands and Denmark, among others, are also making plans for such training.

No decision on actually delivering fourth-generation fighter jets has been taken yet, but training pilots now – a process that takes several months – will help speed up battle readiness once a formal decision is made.

The process will be much faster than many assume.

The jets the Ukraine will get have already been selected and will go through ready maintenance. The Ukrainian pilots, who already have some experience on other fighter jets, will get just a short introduction course - six to eight weeks or even less. They do not need to train air to air fights because the F-16 would lose any such fight against the newer and better armed Russian jets. They just need to learn the basics, starting, landing, going up to a certain height and launch point, release whatever long range weapon will be on board. Anything else would be suicide.

The big question is where to start and land from. The F-16 has a relative short combat range of some 500 kilometer and there will be no air to air tankers. There ain't that many airfield that are suitable for the fighter jet's missions.

Someone who seems competent explains the problem (edited):

The Ukrainian Air Force, to my knowledge, has had to use guerilla airfield tactics to keep the Russians guessing as to where they are operating from. This is to prevent Moscow from targeting the aircraft/impromptu airfield from drone attacks and air strikes, destroying stationary aircraft or the rendering the “runway” unusable. Soviet-built aircraft are sublimely suited to this.

For ex, the MiG-29 “Fulcrum” uses automatic Foreign Object Debris (FOD) covers that close for initial start up (vid). Meanwhile louvres located at the top of the wing-root open to provide alternate air intake to the jet engines. Upon take off, once the weight on wheels (WoW) switch in the nose gear detects it is off the ground, the louvers cycle closed and the FOD covers on the primary intake retract, allowing max airflow to the engines once the danger of FOD damage has passed. This ingenious design allows the Fulcrum to operate, not only from unimproved runways or even highways, but even from grass fields. The wing itself and the distance to the ground preventing small stones and debris from getting sucked into the delicate engines.

I cannot stress how dangerous and debilitating FOD is to aircraft. A single rock, bolt, nut, or minor road debris can have a cataclysmic effect on a modern high-performance jet engine. It may not even happen immediately, the damage could happen on take off, then progressively get worse during flight as the blades, now potentially bent or unbalanced begin to self-destruct the engine internals. Even if a MiG-29 happens to shell out an engine because of the careless placement of a bolt or tool by a mechanic or the ingestion of a bird during flight or take off, the MiG HAS TWO ENGINES which are isolated in separate bays, preventing the destruction of one engine from FOD-ing out the second.

The F-16, by contrast, is definitely not suited for this style of airfield. The bottom of the intake lip sits approximately 30” from the ground with no provision of alternate intake. In addition, all the suction flow of that air comes from the sides, fore, and ground since no air can be ingested from above the engine (that’s where the fuselage is). With no provision for FOD protection or alternate, high-mounted intakes during the entire time spent on the ground, this calls for rigid and inflexible FOD control measures from the location of engine start, to taxiing routes to the runway.

In the USAF, this meant hundreds of maintainers walking at arms-length intervals two to three times a day with eyes on the ground looking for any and every piece of debris that could be ingested by the multi-million dollar vacuum cleaner with only ONE engine we were charged with maintaining. In addition, an almost constant procession of street-cleaners rumbled up and down the flightline, taxiways and runway. Everything had to be spotless lest we risk the aircraft, or worse, the pilots.

Imagine the preparation it would take to complete this process on a 10,000 foot long straight highway, in the dark, while trying to be as inconspicuous as possible so as not to draw the attention of collaborators or Russian spies. You couldn’t hop from highway to highway or run from unimproved airfields like the Ukrainian Air Force can do with MiG-29s, you’d be handcuffed or at the very least less mobile. Imagine a disused Soviet airfield that suddenly had all its weeds plucked from the cracks in the concrete, concrete patched, the runway spotless. What signal does that send? “F-16s could, will, or are operating from here.”

There are several other issues discussed in the above thread. The maintenance philosophy behind U.S. and Russian build planes is different. The Russians just change factory parts and systems, U.S. maintainer try to repair them locally:

The MiG-29 averages about 11 hrs of maintenance for every ONE hr of flight. The F-16? A whopping increase to 18.5 maintenance hrs for every one hr of flight time. These are per aircraft with experienced crews. These figures also assume decent airframe hours on the aircraft.

The Ukraine will also need a sufficient number of competent maintainers. The training for them will likely take more time than for the pilots. The author of the above suggests a solution:

Plenty of mechanics in Europe and the US are happy to lend their services to the UAF as members of the “International Legion” or the modern day iteration of the “Flying Tigers”. Myself included.

Well, good luck doing maintenance on the F-16s that will soon sit on those few available and thereby quite vulnerable Ukrainian airfields.

Russian air defenses, from the ground and from the air, can certainly suppress any F-16 flights coming near to them.

The only sensible purpose of those planes is thereby their one or two time use as a launching vehicles for long range missiles like the British Storm Shadow cruise missiles that were given to Ukraine. It is easy to train for those missions but I doubt that they will make any noticeable difference.

[movieinfoscene]

Thank you to all the BACK TO THE FUTURE FOREVER fans for attending! — Some of the biggest "Back to the Future" fans gathered again for the yearly "1:15 a.m. Twin Pines Mall" meetup at the same time, same date and same location as depicted in the "Back to the Future" film on Tuesday late night, Oct. 25, 2022 until it turned into 1:15 a.m. Wednesday, Oct. 26, 2022. The attendees were among a group of "Back to the Future" die-hard fans to annually gather in the middle of the night for the film's significant date and time of 1:15 a.m. Oct. 26 at the filming site, Puente Hills Mall in City of Industry, California, which was portrayed in the movie as the iconic "Twin Pines Mall."

— As an unofficial event, the 2022 meetup had its largest turnout yet with 11 DeLoreans on display, plus a "Marty McFly pickup truck" (Toyota Xtra Cab SR5), and an estimated crowd of a couple hundred fans who stopped by throughout the night; along with some amazing cosplayers and very cool BTTF-inspired costumes, outfits and T-shirts.

— THANK YOU to everyone who attended, with extra special thanks to the vehicle owners for showing up with their DeLorean time machines (and the Toyota truck) to commemorate Doc Brown's successful Temporal Experiment Number 1. Many of the DeLorean owners brought their fully-functioning vehicles decked out in "Back to the Future" details complete with flux capacitors, time circuits, Mr. Fusion energy reactors, rear-exhaust louvers, glowing lights and sound effects.

— It was wonderful as always to have a yearly reunion with regular "Twin Piners", plus very welcoming to see many new faces (and now new friends) as well. The cherished, fun, geeky-and-proud gathering allowed those in attendance to share in the "Back to the Future" love, discussion and camaraderie with fellow fans and friends; as many attendees wore their favorite “Back to the Future” outfits, cosplay costumes or T-shirts; and some even brought along amazing prop-replicas.

— Also, here's a shout-out and thank you to Chris Foster, who once again successfully re-enacted that iconic moment by skateboarding downhill into Twin Pines Mall at precisely 1:15 a.m. Oct. 26 as we all eagerly anticipated his arrival, followed by taking this group photo.

— If you are pictured and want a digital jpeg of this photo, contact me via Facebook Messenger and I will be happy to provide you with one.

— PICTURED building in the background: The former JC Penny store is now a 24-Hour Fitness, but the shopping mall remains open.

— FROM FILM TO REAL LIFE AND THE REASON BEHIND THIS MEET UP'S TIME, DATE AND LOCATION: In the beginning of the "Back to the Future" movie, Emmett "Doc" Brown (played by Christopher Lloyd) asks Marty McFly (played by Michael J. Fox) to meet him 1:15 a.m. Oct. 26, 1985 at Twin Pines Mall where Doc Brown reveals the DeLorean automobile converted into a time machine for the first time. This date and location is also the significant moment when Doc Brown remotely controls and accelerates the DeLorean to the necessary 88 miles per hour in the mall's parking lot to successfully execute his time-travel experiment. So, each year in real life, some very dedicated "Back to the Future" fans will go there on the same date, same time and same location as depicted in the film.

— SEE YOU NEXT YEAR: This FREE (and unofficial) meetup in 2023 will take place Wednesday night, Oct. 25, 2023 until it turns into 1:15 a.m. Thursday, Oct. 26, 2023 at "Twin Pines Mall" (Puente Hills Mall in real life.)

[harryknowsme]

ukladinla: Fun Tuesday evening preview

Harry with a fan at the L.A. Louver, 05feb19

[hachama]

“What do you think she meant, ‘in charge?’” Thursday’s eyes were wide and her face was pale.

“I don’t know.  What does the Librarian even do on a normal day?”

“She asks us to bring her a lot of books, and to put them away again when she’s done with them.”

“Do you think she reads them all?”

Thursday shrugged eloquently.  “She might.  She might rip out pages and eat them, for all we know.  But there’s a cart of books ready to put back, so we may as well start with that.”  Next to what had been the office door but was now an uninterrupted wall was a rolling shelf filled with books of all sizes and ages.  Tuesday ran her fingers over the spines, and then frowned, staring at her hand. 

“Thursday, touch the books.”

Thursday raised an eyebrow, but poked a couple books before pulling her hand back and furrowing her brow.  “Buzzing?”

Tuesday nodded.  “Have they always buzzed?”

“No.”

“Let’s find more books.”

On the main floor of the Library, buzzing cart in tow, the twins headed for the children’s books.  Shelving the books from the cart as they went, as much by reflex as intent, they eventually stood in front of a wall of brightly colored, narrow-spined books.  Thursday reached for Tuesday’s hand and squeezed.

“Together?”

“Together.”

They reached for a book and yelped when an arc of static electricity stabbed out at their fingers.

“Since when do books zap?” Thursday’s finger was in her mouth, slurring her words.

“It’s never happened to me before, either!” Tuesday stared at her hand, but couldn’t see a mark.  “Which one was it?”

“The green one.” Thursday pointed with her chin.  Tuesday cautiously reached for the book again, only to find it humming like the books on the cart.  No static arcs reached for her probing fingers, no punishing, painful shock.  She pulled the book off the shelf and handed it to Thursday.

“It’s just humming now, like the others.”

“Weird.  Did the Librarian do something to us, you think?”

“Seems like it.  Isn’t this one of your favorites?”

Thursday’s eyes widened in delight.  “It’s the moon book!”  She dropped to the floor, sitting cross legged.  Tuesday folded in on herself and sat beside her.  They opened the book across their laps, flipping past the title page, and felt something tug on their hands. 

Tuesday and Thursday were standing in a room with green walls, a red floor, and a pink woven rug in front of a dancing fire. The curtains were striped green and gold, and pulled back to show the night sky full of stars and a full moon.  In one corner was a dollhouse.  On the opposite wall was a child’s bed, and a rabbit in striped pajamas was looking around the room and saying “goodnight” to all the objects.  The rabbit looked at the twins and, in a high-pitched child’s voice, said “Who are you?”

“We, uh, hello, um…”

“Weeee’re friends of your mother! And we are just checking to make sure you’re going to sleep! goodnight!  Bye bye now!” Tuesday tugged Thursday toward the door and slammed it behind them. 

From the other side of the door, the rabbit-child giggled, “that’s the closet door, silly!”

“Tuesday!  We’re in the book!  We’re in the moon book!” There was enough light coming through the louvered door to see Thursday's shining eyes and grin.

“I know that!  How do we get out?”

[tarp67hayes-blog]

Blinds, Curtains, Shutters

The ideal place for the storage of your collection would be in a space that is cool, dry and where blinds or curtains can be made use of to block natural light. Just two doors down, the muffled screams of a whiskey tango chick receiving tagged team by two drunken sailors kept everybody awake on the hall although the aroma of burnt smoke wafted by. An individual threw a lit cigarette into the trash and the dense and smoky smell masked the faint aromatic flavors of marijuana toked by a gaggle of on the web poker players multi-tabling in the darkness of their hotel rooms, with days old room service trays scattered about with had eaten pieces of wheat toast, lightly buttered and heavily burned. While Nzblinds,co,nz - everyday prices online blinds store nz blinds do offer some privacy, and lower the quantity of light entering through the window, PVC blinds louvers are not efficient adequate at keeping the heat out of a room to supply a great deal in the way of energy savings. Choose from sunguard.nz , blinds , awnings, shutters , roller screens, louvers and much more. They came out to my dwelling, measured, discussed paint colours and 10 days later turned up to fit my excellent blinds. This is what New Zealand does ideal, in occasions of crisis, just like just after the Christchurch and Kaikoura Earthquakes, people today don't hesitate to show an outpouring of appreciate and assistance for each and every other. Mini blinds are significantly smaller in width, this tends to make them really suitable for smaller windows. Apart from this morning (right after several weekends of parties at house and overseas guests arriving to stay with us tomorrow), my dress up days are on hold for a handful of weeks. Our trained technicians will professionally set up your gorgeous new blinds onsite and on time. He had been wearing PokerStars all week just before he showed up on Tuesday with a FullTilt patch. There are many blind cleaning agencies in the Auckland. Onsite Blind Cleaning and Repairs provides a pickup and return delivery service, or alternatively you can drop off your blinds at our workshop in Takanini.

[carshowbernie]

Rise and shine on this lovely Tuesday morning!!! Continuing with my picks from @barrett_jackson Scottsdale Auction with this #McLaren MP4-12C High Sport. Only 10 were produced and this particular car parked in Lot 1411 is the 9th one. According to Barrett Jackson, the High Sport edition has redesigned front and rear bumpers with side air extractors and louvers on top of the front fenders, engine modification to 675hp could now achieve 0-60 mph in under three seconds flat in launch mode with a top speed north of 200 mph. Also this particular car has Wifi, bluetooth, and special tagged designer travel luggage is included. #mclarenmp412c #mp412c #luxury #exotic #highsport #specialedition #limitededition #barrettjackson #Scottsdale #auction https://www.instagram.com/p/BsqJYcHFERK/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=optf0voi3uuf

[betweensceneswriter]

Jimjeran- Chapter 6:  Night Noises

The nights on Arno are really quiet. Until they aren’t.

Audio Book Version of Chapter 6

Click Here to Hop to the Table of Contents

At night in Boston, the sounds we would hear were city sounds: cars and buses, sirens, machinery, and music.  And when he was asleep, but I wasn’t, I would hear Frank’s gentle snore.

     Frank and I still lived in the townhouse we had been able to afford on his teaching salary.  Though we now made more as nurse practitioner and professor than nurse and adjunct, we had worked to pay off school loans, assuming when we married, we’d permanently commit to a home as well as each other.

    It wasn’t an expensive townhouse, and yet it effectively muffled those city sounds with double-paned vinyl windows, venetian blinds and drapes, carpeting to curb echoes, and always a fan or white noise machine to cover up the sound remnants that made it through.

    There was no such barrier on Arno. For one thing, the only source of cooling was the breeze off the iar, so the louvered windows were opened, especially at night, to let the air in. Even when closed, louvers did little to block sound.  

    The first night as I lay in bed, I was struck by the eerie lack of the sounds of civilization.  No cars or public transportation, no music, save for the random child carrying a guitar down the road, nothing in the house powered by electricity—no refrigerator humming, no fan, no pumps or toilets running.  In the silence I started to hear other, softer sounds: the lap of small waves on the lagoon shore, palm and pandanus branches rustled by the wind, the low murmur of my nearest neighbors talking.

    My brain worked to catalogue unfamiliar sounds: the high-pitched whine of a mosquito buzzing around my ears, the random crack and creak of my unfamiliar apartment.

    One strange sound I could not place, though.  It sounded the the chirp of a small bird, and it was coming from the rafters above my bed.  From a similar location, I heard a strange slapping.   It seemed to follow a pattern: Chirp, chirp, cheep, cheep, slap-slap-slap-slap-slap.  

    Finally, my curiosity piqued, I went and turned on the light. It didn’t illuminate the rafters entirely, so I added the beam of my flashlight. When I found the source of the noise, I laughed.  Two huge amber-colored lizards were mating on my rafter.  They would chirp and cheep, sweet talking each other, and then the slapping was caused by their tails beating against the metal roof as they lost themselves in the throes of gecko passion.  

    I turned off the lights, reassuring myself that while they might drop little offerings of poop down (so that’s what I’d found on the table at supper time!) at least they’d be up there catching mosquitoes.

    It had gotten easier to fall asleep in the past week.  The sounds were becoming familiar, and the lapping ocean waves were the best white noise machine I’d ever had.

    I was currently lying in bed trying to think through the events of the past six days. I had flown out with Laura on Sunday, moving my stuff into the apartment and clinic, watching Laura leave, and then cleaning and unpacking.  

    On Monday, I had met Sharbella and done well-child checkups in the morning. In the afternoon I’d had my first emergency case when Jamie had arrived with his corrugated tin boat wound.

    The following night, Tuesday, I had taken food to the Peace Corps boys at the Ine school.  Jamie had walked me home, and I’d made my first friend out here.

    On Wednesday, I had focused on re-organizing and familiarizing myself with everything in the clinic. I spent some time sanitizing the surfaces, and then read up on tropical climate skin ailments and treatments.  That was most of what I saw: people dealing with rashes, boils, burns, cuts and scrapes; and I also noticed that some wounds developed keloid scars, particularly on patients with darker skin.  What I discovered from my research was that while keeping wounds moist in other climates can aid in healing, the level of humidity and the varieties of bacteria in the tropics can actually impede healing.  The general consensus was that you should use an antiseptic, and then something to block bacteria from entering the wound.

    I had stitched up the hand of one man who cut himself with his machete attempting to split coconuts. Sharbella had explained that the one cash crop in Arno was copra—the smoked meat of coconuts, which was processed and made into coconut oil for suntan lotion shampoo, and other toiletries. The men would pick the coconuts, strip off the husks, split the shells by holding them in one hand and giving them a sharp blow with the blade of their machetes, and then stacking them on the smoking trays.  This man had gotten distracted, the blade had slipped, and he had a deep cut in the pad of his thumb.

    On Thursday Plu Rose had brought Sinana back because the boil had come to a head from the daily salt compresses. I lanced the boil as close to her hairline as possible, drained it, and then applied a sterile dressing with a warning not get it dirty or wet.

    Jamie had also stopped in on Thursday for a new bandage. He had worried that the wound was seeping clear fluid and wanted to make sure it wasn’t infected.  The wound seemed to be progressing nicely, but Jamie was a little bummed to be banned from swimming for another three days.

    But now it was finally Friday night, and after an exhausting week, I was looking forward to not having clinic hours on Saturday—of being able to sleep in, explore the island, brainstorm some better meals, and possibly do my laundry. I was feeling a little anxious about that process, having never done laundry completely by hand before.  I had the big round red tub, the washboard, and the scrub brush, plus a laundry line and clothes pins for drying everything.  I would need to draw water from the well, and then it would just be an investment of time.

    I had fallen into bed mentally and physically exhausted, with the sweet sense of anticipation knowing I would get rest and relaxation the next day.  I was almost asleep when I heard a new sound, one that instantly made my heart rate increase and my muscles tense. Outside the window right next to my bed I heard quiet footfalls and a rustling sound.

    And then I heard singing.  Sort of.  It was a tune so distinct, I could plunk it out on a piano if I needed to.  It was in a sweet voice, singing a sweet tune, but it made me feel more like I was hearing the haunting little kid voice singing a nursery rhyme in a horror movie trailer.

    “Miss Peachay, I want to talk to you,” sang a heavily accented male voice.  “Miss Peachay, I want to talk to you…”   I froze in my bed, the throb of panic in my chest, breathing shallowly.

    A voice came closer, nearly in my ear, just speaking this time, softly, enticingly.  “Miss Peachay, do you want to go to shungle with me?”

    Go?  To the jungle?  I lay in my bed, petrified.  

    “Miss Peachay! Que lukuun likatu!”

    “Miss Peachay! Que konaan bwebwenato?”

    My troubadour began serenading me again.  “Miss Peachay, I want to talk to you…Miss Peachay, I want to talk to you.”

     I didn’t want to say anything.  What could I say?  Go away?  I don’t want to go to the jungle with you?

    I was about to announce that I had no intention of talking to them or going to the ‘shungle’ with them when I heard another voice.  A deep, resonant Scottish brogue, hearty, confident, and calm, speaking fluent Marshallese.

     “Enana kaiṇṇe, Abner.  Miss Peachay ejab kōṇaan etal ippām.  Ta ṇe kwōj jerbale, Samson?  Quejjooko ñe ej kadek.”

    The other men answered, talking back and forth.  I heard all of the voices retreating, traveling farther and farther down the road toward the Peace Corps school, and then it was silent.  I listened to see if Jamie was coming back, but I heard nothing.  I couldn’t understand why I was disappointed.  I had already gone to bed.  I hadn’t wanted the company of the men outside my window.  Why would I want Jamie?

    I was just relaxing, on the edge of slumber, when I heard a different noise.  The crunch of gravel, then rubber slapping on wood, paired with a creaking sound.  Flip-flops?  On my steps?  A long moment of silence, then a creak and a rattling sound.  Someone was on my doorstep, and he was trying to turn my doorknob.  I was almost certain the door was locked.  I knew I’d locked it when I came in from going to the bathroom before bed.  Hadn’t I?  Frantically, I thought over everything I owned.  Did I have anything in here that would be a good weapon?  Sundresses, shoes, a towel?  A book.  A frying pan!

    I sat up in bed, ready to run if I needed to.  Where would I go?  Could I run a mile to the Peace Corp school?  I threw my feet over the side of the bed and crept across the floor, scrabbling for my zories at the door.  I was panting, nearly hyperventilating.  “I can’t run in flip-flops!”  I whimpered to myself, not realizing I’d actually spoken out loud.

     “Ripālle?”  The deep voice came through the door.  “Claire, is that you?”

     “Jamie?!!  Dammit, Jamie!”  I exclaimed, opening the door.  “You gave me a freakin’ heart attack!”

     “Sorry, lass,” he chuckled, stepping away from the door.  “I escorted yer drunk friends away, but thought I should check your door to make sure it was locked in case any of them tried to bother ye again tonight.  I thought ye were asleep, and I didna want to bother you.”

     “I’m quite awake,” I said, looking around.  “Do you want to come in?”

     “Sorry, Ripālle,” he said. “I think ye should close the door.”

     I moved to come outside, and he shook his head.  “No, Claire.  Wi’ you on the inside, and me on the outside.”

     “What?”  I asked.

     “I dinna want the island men to get the idea that if they just stick around longer that they’ll get invited in.”  He reached for the door knob and started to pull the door closed.

     “But Jamie, my heart is still pounding.  I’m not going to be able to go to sleep.”

     “Ye dinna need to be afraid.  I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he said reassuringly, as he inched the door the rest of the way closed.  “I’mna going home yet. I will sit on yer doorstep awhile ‘til I’m sure they won’t come back. ”

    I stood inside my apartment with the door closed in front of me for a frustrated second, and then I turned around, leaned against the door and slid down until I was sitting with my back against it.

     “Why were they here?  What did they want?” I asked.  For a moment I wondered whether he’d be able to hear me, but quickly realized the door was hollow faux wood, with a gap at the bottom—and the two louvered windows to either side were completely open to the night air.

     “What did they say?” Jamie asked.  The door moved slightly against my back as he sat down on the other side.    

     “They said they wanted to talk to me or go to the jungle with me,” I said.  “They asked nice, but it freaked me out.”

     “Both mean about the same thing…” Jamie said. “And I’m sure you can guess what that is.”  I could guess, and I could also feel the door vibrate from his husky voice.

     “What did you say to them?” I asked.

     “Dinna remember, really.  That what they were doing wasn’t good.  That you didn’t want to go with them.  And I told them they make poor choices when they’re drunk.”

     “They were drunk?” I asked.

     “Most definitely,” said Jamie.  “They wouldna be bothering ye if they were sober.  Abner and Samson are decent enough men.  They came stumbling by our house and told Rupert they were going to visit ye.  I didna want to confront them if they decided better, so I walked along the beach, matched their pace, and came out here when it was obvious they werena leaving ye alone.

     “Thank you,” I said. “That was weird.  I hope that doesn’t happen again.”

     “Well,” said Jamie, slowly.  “I canna promise that.  I’m surprised Laura didna mention the nighttime visitors.”

     “That happens a lot?” I asked, stunned.  “What do I do next time, when you aren’t here to send them away?”

     “Do ye want to learn some Majol?” Jamie asked.

     “Okay,” I responded agreeably.

     “What do ye ken already?”

     “I know ‘eh jab ma lay lay,’” I said.

     “Okay.  ‘I don’t understand.’ That’s helpful, but not here.  What else?”

     “Um.  Kway shu tal non yah!”

     “Hmmm.  Excellent, if you want to ask them where they’re going, though they already announced they would like to go to the jungle,” he laughed.

     “Okay, then what should I say?” I asked.

     “Ejab kōṇaan is pretty easy,” Jamie said.  “That means ‘I don’t want.”

     “Eh jab coe non,” I repeated.

     “Kwō etal wōt means ‘you should go away.’”

     “Quo eh tal watt.”

     “Good,” Jamie said.  “But you should say something, even if you say it in English.  They’re kind of persistent.”

     “So, let me get this straight.  I can’t walk alone at night, though now I’m pretty sure I don’t want to, but guys can just come to my house and try to seduce me through the window?

     “Or door,” said Jamie.  The door shook; I could feel him laugh.  “I’m just joking, Ripālle,” he murmured.

     “You called me that again,” I said.  “Isn’t that the word that means selfish white person?”

     “Aye, Ripālle.”

     “Rrrri pol´-lay?” I repeated.  “You’re really going to call me selfish white person?”

     “I dinna mean it that way,” he said.  “And are ye saying ye arna one?”

     I scoffed.  “Well, maybe I am, but why call me that?”

     “It’s a pretty word. I get to roll an ‘r’ at the beginning.”

     I laughed from a sudden realization.  “That’s why you Scots feel so at home in the Marshall Islands,” I said.  “You’re the only two cultures I know that roll their ‘r’s’ so often!”

     I heard a huge yawn from outside.  “Well, Ripālle,” he said.  “I’m tired.  What are ye doing tomorrow?”

    “Laundry, I think,” I said, his yawn contagiously spreading to me.  “And you?”

     “Can I come visit ye in the light?” he asked.

     “That’d be nice,” I said.  “Goodnight, Jamie.”

     “Goodnight, Claire.”  I got up from the floor, and listened to the sound of Jamie’s flip-flops crunching in the gravel, my young protector heading home.

Young Geckos in Love

On to Chapter 7 : Dirty Laundry

Jamie and Claire get better acquainted

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus,

As always, I was humbled by the number of happy birthday wishes I got on Facebook. I’ve made a tradition of sharing with everyone a detailed account of how I spent my birthday. Here’s what I told them about today:

It started around 3am, when I woke up with a piercing headache. I rolled around until I found a position on the pillow that somewhat alleviated the pain, I convinced myself I didn’t have brain cancer, then I fell back asleep until I heard Gus quietly crying in the next room around 5. I walked by the light of my phone screen from our bed to Gus’s room. When I opened the door, he pushed himself up and looked at me from his crib—he’s a stomach sleeper, like me. I closed his louvered closet doors some so the light wouldn’t be blinding, and I reached in to pull the string so I could see well enough to change his diaper. He stopped crying when I leaned over the crib rail and picked him up. Holding him against my chest in the middle of the night is always a reminder that I have the power to calm him with nothing but my presence and love—a power so raw and wonderful that I don’t understand how any parent ever takes it for granted. Gus cried again when I placed him on his changing table, but I quickly put a pacifier in his mouth, which stopped the crying and allowed me to switch his wet diaper out for a dry one. I put him back on my chest and walked him over to the closet, where I again pulled the light string, but I didn’t rush to place him back in his crib. I walked slowly, stepping side to side trying to rock him back to sleep while his trusty owl nightlight on the table emitted a constant stream of white noise. But even after he fell asleep I didn’t want to put him back down because he felt too precious in my arms to abandon for even a moment. But I did put him down, and he complained sleepily, but then fell asleep again.

I used my phone to light the path to the bathroom, where I stepped naked onto that unforgivable bastard of a scale, which read 195.2 pounds, up a little from Sunday morning because I gorged myself on corn casserole and cherry pie at my grandmother’s house in honor of my family’s plethora of January birthdays. I showered, spending more time than usual letting hot water run over my head because it made me forget about the headache, and I dried off in the dark so my eyes could adjust well when I tiptoed back through our bedroom without waking Liz up. However, when I opened the bathroom door and came into the room, I heard her whisper “Happy birthday” from our bed in the darkness. I felt my way to the side of the bed, then sat. I leaned down and began making kissing noises, which she reciprocated—it’s a game of “Marco Polo” we developed long ago to find each other’s lips when it was too dark to see them—until our lips met. “I hope you have a great day,” she said, before I tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the hall bathroom, where I got dressed and brushed my teeth. I let Suki out into the backyard to pee, put food in her bowl. I let her back in, grabbed my backpack, then went out to my truck.

At the office by 6:30am, I got the parking spot closest to the door, but there were a few cars scattered in the lot. I saw the light on in the gym and wished I had the discipline to develop a regular exercise routine. When I got close enough, I could see Jordan Culver in there like a champion with his headphones in his ears and a kettle bell in his hands. A few minutes after I got to my desk, my sister showed up at my cubicle in workout gear. “I have breakfast for you, but you can’t have it until after I get done in the gym.” “Oooo…” I said. Sometimes my brother-in-law makes breakfast for her and makes enough for me, too. I assumed that was the case. Around 8am, my headache intensified, which reminded me of the promise I made to Liz to call the doctor. I set up an appointment for 1:30. At 8.30, my coworkers gathered in a conference room around a breakfast casserole Chris Nick made and some fruit and they sang happy birthday to me while I wore the designated birthday sombrero and I assured them that—despite the #40andfabulous hashtag Liz used in the Instagram post she made that morning about me—I am not 40 yet.

I worked at my desk until noon, when I drove to Boulevard Bread for lunch. When I got there, I found Clayton Scott Grubbs and Ryan Hitt behind the counter making sandwiches. I asked Ryan what the special was, but he said there wasn’t one. “The first rule of business is to always have a special,” I said in a mock corporate tone the two of us used when we worked together back in 2010 at the now-defunct House Restaurant. I ordered a smoked turkey sandwich and some Zapp’s chips, then sat down until Joshua Asante came over to say hello. He asked me what I’m up to and I told him I was meeting the woman who just walked in. Hilary Trudell runs a storytelling show called The Yarn. We agreed to have lunch because I’m trying to back out of participating in her January 22 show because I don’t think I can tell my story in a compelling way within the allotted time. The show’s theme is “Adoption Stories” and I have a good one about how Lance Lang is my blood, but was adopted by another family at birth, then he sent me an email 52 years later because 23andMe.com said we share some DNA and now he’s family again. Hilary said she really likes the story and she gave me some ideas on how to approach it with brevity. Then we talked about Argenta Reading Series and how she and I are both trying to navigate the waters of nonprofits when neither of us knows anything about it, but we’re both committed to our causes. I promised her I will do my best to get my story where it can be told from her stage, and I’m 50% sure I can make it happen. I want to, and not being able to see the finished product in my head, which aches, so close to the date of the show disappoints me. It makes me feel inadequate as a writer. Like maybe all I’m good at is unnecessarily documenting things—like an entire day—and posting that exhaustive documentation to social media in the hopes of approval from a group of friends and acquaintances who might see it, based solely on some kind of bullshit algorithm that I used to feel I had a grasp of, but now I don’t know.

I drove to North Hills Family Medical Center, watched some sort of house-hunting show on HGTV in the waiting room for 40 minutes while I waited on someone to open a door and call my name, which finally happened. A nice woman in a surgical mask recorded that the scale she put me on read 204 lbs. “The boots,” I told her. She chuckled, and walked me to an exam room, where she declared my blood pressure is great. I told her about how I’ve had a headache since January 1. How the intensity of it comes and goes. The doctor told me a CT scan would be the course of action, but it’s probably just allergy-related, so a scan probably isn’t necessary. “I should tell you my father died of brain cancer in March,” I say. The doctor tried not to react, but his stumbling over words gave him away. “Just to be safe, let’s go ahead and do a CT scan.” And I could feel the pressure of my headache consuming me in that moment as I was reminded of all the doctors’ offices I sat in with my father in those three and a half years that it took him to die.

“If you aren’t in a hurry, he wants you to sit tight while we go ahead and get approval from your insurance to do the CT scan so we can get this going as quickly as possible,” the nurse told me. The urgency. I sat in the exam room and thought about how cruel life is and how I’m already aware that I should’ve met Liz and had Gus a decade ago so I could’ve spent more time on this earth with them as a family. I will be 71 when Gus is my age. To take my mind off of the fact that I may need to gear up for a fight against a brain tumor, I picked up the copy of WebMD Magazine on the table beside me. (How do you have a print magazine when your whole schtick is that you are on the web?) I skimmed it carefully when I read how broccoli might break-down cancer cells. I love broccoli. I should eat more broccoli, I told myself. And then I questioned why in the hell I would be eating turkey sandwiches for lunch when I am smart enough to understand the detrimental effects deli meat has on my body, not to mention the turkey’s. I committed silently to eating nothing but fruits and vegetables and beans and whatever else Clayton Bell's Facebook posts tell me to.

When the nurse came back, she told me the doctor changed his mind about calling me with the results of the CT scan, which will be Tuesday at 2.15pm. Now he wants me to come in on Wednesday so he can go over the results with me personally. It occurred to me that he’s taking the necessary steps to deliver bad news.

Liz wanted me to call her on my way back to the office, so I did. I told her the headache is probably nothing, and she agreed that it’s probably nothing. But she registered my fears through the phone because she picks up on the nuances of my behavior that I am unaware of. It’s a wonderful thing to share this life with someone who loves you enough to notice the subtleties of your voice.

Back at work, my coworkers asked me if I felt better. I can’t remember if I told them about my headache or they deduced that I wasn’t feeling well because I went to the doctor. Either way, I said, “Not really.” The left side of my head pulsated. Around 4:45, Laura messaged to ask me when I was leaving work. She had a gift she wanted to give me before I left. I walked to her office and pulled a box from a bag. Inside was a framed Kodak newspaper ad from way back. “I saw this at an antique store and it made me think of you and Liz.” It’s a black and white photo of a man and woman on snow skis. The man is looking into an old camera and the woman is grinning playfully beside him. It looks like an old-fashioned mirror selfie. “Kodak as you go,” the copy reads. I pulled a card from the box. Inside the envelope I saw Laura’s handwriting on folded up notebook paper. “I wrote some thoughts down on paper when you were in Arizona, I think. August 2016, I think. Dad was sick and you were gone and I know I’ll never do anything with them, but I thought you might like to have them.” I read the small pages. A rare glimpse into my always-professional sister’s emotions. She is my father reincarnate. The note says how she remembers us going to take family portraits in the early 90s, when Dad was preparing to run for the Arkansas House of Representatives. She remembers the man being there that served as Dad’s campaign manager and how she knew from that point on that she wanted to do marketing in some capacity. She and I have never talked about that time, but I tell her, “I think about that guy a lot, too, and what his job was,” but I never thought about the influence he had on my own desire to work in marketing. He was such a minor character in our lives—he had nothing more than a cameo—but then there Laura and I were, sitting in the office where we both do marketing, trying to remember his name. Only now that I write this the next day do I actually remember it. Chuck Hicks.

At home, I found Liz and Gus and Suki on the couch. My head hurt. “Gus is exhausted, I think we can put him down early,” Liz told me. So I took him back to his room, changed his diaper, put him in his pajamas. I turned on the space heater we have in his room, then handed him to Liz, who would feed him in the rocking chair after I turned out the lamp and went outside to throw the tennis ball with Suki until I could see Liz through the window in the kitchen, starting dinner. She bought things to make pad thai for my birthday dinner. I love Asian noodles. While she cooked, we traded stories about what happened during the day. “Oh, God. Were you able to contain yourself?” Liz asked me when I told her about talking to Joshua Asante at Boulevard. I’ve always admired his commitment to his art, and when Liz and I first started dating, I mentioned that I was possibly too intimidated to even talk to him. Now she always ribs me about it. But once she’d had her fill, we agreed that we should go to the gallery opening for his and Matt White’s photography at the CALS bookstore Friday. We decide we can just bring Gus with us. That some art will do him good. And then my head started hurting again, so I sat on the couch and rested my skull against the back of the sofa. After a couple of minutes, Suki pressed her nose against my hand, so I reached down to pet her. I touched dirt on her leg. “How much time do I have until dinner?” I asked Liz. “25-30 minutes,” she said, cutting tofu. “I’m going to give Suki a bath.” I picked all 45 pounds of her up and carried her to the hall bathroom where we have an outdated whirlpool (that I like but Liz says it has to go). I stripped down and got in the tub with Suki. I stood her up under the faucet and shampooed her. She hates baths. When I let her out, she got crazy, as she always does, running around the house spastically, and I tried to rush her into the back yard before she woke Gus up. I closed the patio door behind her and rinsed off in the shower. When I got out and dried off, Liz and I ate pad thai on the sofa while watching The Wire and she said, “I’m sorry the pad thai didn’t turn out better.” She always apologizes that her meals aren’t better, but they’re delicious 95% of the time. I’ve always loved her cooking and I always will. She doesn’t follow recipes.

We were in bed by 9pm, tired, but happy. When my headache surged again, I placed a helpless hand on my head the way my father used to and I tried not to think about it.

“It’s probably nothing, right?” I said.

“It’s probably nothing,” she said.

Dad

North Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.8.2018 - 8.24am.

UPDATE: The CT scan was clear. Turns out I have tension headaches caused by stress. The doctor recommended muscle relaxers and a massage.

[communityforklift]

Save 40% on doors and windows

Save 40% on doors and windows! Check the blog for details.

This Tuesday through Sunday DOORS & WINDOWS ARE 40% OFF

March 10 – 15, take 40% off the marked prices on modern and vintage doors. This includes interior and exterior doors, antique wood panel doors, french doors, oversized doors, bifold doors, louvered doors, security doors, storm doors, screen doors, and doors in frames. Also, take 40% off the marked prices on windows and window sashes!

[lalouver]

This fall, we are thrilled to be presenting an exhibition of paintings and works on paper by Colombian-born artist Fanny Sanín. Coordinated in conjunction with the Getty’s Pacific Standard Time LA/LA, this is the artist’s first solo exhibition in Los Angeles. The selection of works range from an early 1967 abstract expressionist-style painting to geometric hard-edge works from the 1970s to present day that are joyous in color and commanding in their embrace of minimalist forms and symmetry. 

The works on paper, or studies, reveal the process by which the paintings emerge. Before taking to the canvas, Sanín explores the formal aspects of color, shape, mass, composition and balance through a series of studies conducted on paper with acrylic. Once the desired composition is achieved, she then transposes it onto a canvas where the painting is finalized. 

A telling example of this process can be seen in the images pictured here. Beginning with the finished painting at the top (Acrylic No. 4, 1977), directly below are the various iterations that informed the final work. 

Fanny Sanín opens at L.A. Louver on Tuesday, September 12, 2017, 6-8pm. 

IMAGE: (top to bottom/left to right) Acrylic No. 4,1977, acrylic on canvas, 44 x 54 in. (111.8 x 137.2 cm); Study for Painting no. 4 (1B),1977, acrylic on paper Image: 5 3/4 x 7 1/4 in. (14.6 x 18.4 cm), Paper: 8 3/4 x 10 in. (22.2 x 25.4 cm); Study for Painting No. 4 (4),1977, acrylic on paper, Image: 5 3/4 x 7 1/4 in. (14.6 x 18.4 cm), Paper: 9 x 10 in. (22.9 x 25.4 cm); Study for Painting No. 4 (8),1977, acrylic on paper, Image: 5 7/8 x 7 1/4 in. (14.9 x 18.4 cm), Paper: 9 x 15 in. (22.9 x 38.1 cm)

[foryourart]

Photo courtesy of Noah Stern Weber. Image courtesy of REDCAT.

Thursday, November 9

37th Annual Sale, HENNESSEY + INGALLS BOOKSTORE (Downtown), 10am–8pm. Through November 12.

ArtOASIS Showcase, Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego (San Diego), 10am–12pm.

Young-Il Ahn and Ann Weber: Moon over San Pedro, Long Beach Museum of Art (Long Beach), 11am–8pm.

Alison Blickle Artist Talk, Five Car Garage (Santa Monica), 12:30–3:30pm.

Talk: Gallery Talk: The Art of Looking—Greek Goddesses: Reconstructed & Deconstructed, LACMA (Miracle Mile), 12:30pm.

Course: One-Day Workshop: Collage in Fine Art, LACMA (Miracle Mile), 1pm.

Garden Talk & Sale - Sex in the Garden, The Huntington (San Marino), 2:30pm.

LAND Sense of Place First Movement Reception, Santa Monica Pier (Santa Monica), 4–5:30pm. Reception to follow.

Gallery Talk: Erin Aldana, Guest Curator, University of San Diego (San Diego), 5pm.

Artist and scholar walkthroughs: Artemisa Clark, Hammer Museum (Westwood), 6pm.

Gravity's Peacock, MAK Center for Art and Architecture (West Hollywood), 7–9pm.

Danny Lyon: Vintage Works, Fahey/Klein Gallery (Hollywood), 7–9pm.

Conor Ekstrom, Hannah Hoffman Gallery (Hollywood), 7–9pm.

Los Angeles Filmforum at MOCA presents Poets, Artists, and Anarcho-super8istas, MOCA Grand Avenue (Downtown), 7pm.

Live! at the Museum: The Artisan Guitar Ensemble, Laguna Art Museum (Long Beach), 7pm.

Writing Now Reading Series: Fanny Howe, CalArts (Valencia), 7–10pm.

Paul Brach Lecture Series: Artie Vierkant, CalArts (Valencia), 7pm.

A.E. Stallings, Hammer Museum (Westwood), 7:30pm.

Film: An Evening With...Darren Aronofsky, LACMA (Miracle Mile), 7:30pm.

Boosting Your Side Hustle With Gina Delvac, Women’s Center for Creative Work (Frogtown), 7:30–9:30pm. $20–25.

Keeril Makan and Jay Scheib: Persona, REDCAT (Downtown), 8pm.

Persona, LA Opera (Downtown), 8pm.

Anne Bray Presents: How Can You Resist?, Echo Park Film Center (Echo Park), 8–10pm.

KCIA Presents: ACID TONGUE, CalArts (Valencia), 10pm.

Friday, November 10

"We Are CalArts" -The Role of the Spiral in Movement & the Body, with Babette Markus, CalArts (Valencia), 1–4pm.

School of Music Visiting Artist Series: Kate McGarry, Keith Ganz, Gary Versace, CalArts (Valencia), 2–4pm.

Documentary Screening: Frederick Hammersley: By Himself, The Huntington (San Marino), 3pm.

Off the Wall, Shoebox Projects (Lincoln Heights), 6–9pm.

Words and Music, LAST Projects (Downtown), 7–11pm.

Screening: Death by Delivery, California African American Museum (Downtown), 7–10pm.

Feminist Acting Class, Women’s Center for Creative Work (Frogtown), 7–10pm. Through November 12. $120–150.

William Kieffer: City of Fish, Long Beach Aquarium of the Pacific (Long Beach), 7–11pm.

POP-UP MUSEUM: JOURNEY, Museum of Latin American Art (Long Beach), 7–8:30pm.

X-TRA Fall Launch Event: Candice Lin and Miljohn Ruperto in conversation, Ghebaly Gallery (Downtown), 7:30–9:30pm.

James Tenney: Changes: Sixty-Four Studies for Six Harps, The Box (Downtown), 8pm.

The Seagull, CalArts (Valencia), 8pm. Through November 12.

Saturday, November 11

Quiet Mornings: Art x Mindfulness, The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA (Downtown), 9:30am.

Dance Resource Center's 3rd annual Day of Dancer Health, Art Share LA (Downtown), 10am–5pm.

Designer Con 2017, Pasadena Convention Center (Pasadena), 10am–7pm. Through November 12.

American Indian Arts Marketplace, The Autry Museum of the American West (Los Feliz), 11am–5pm. Continues November 12.

THE LATINO COMICS EXPO – DAY 1, Museum of Latin American Art (Long Beach), 11am–5pm.

Young-Il Ahn: When Sky Meets Water, ParticiPoetry with Karen Holden, and Ann Weber: Moon Over San Pedro, Long Beach Museum of Art (Long Beach), 11am–5pm.

Tony DeLap: A Career Survey, 1963—2017, parrasch heijnen gallery (Downtown), 12–3pm.

Vantage, Finishing Concepts (Monterey Park), 12–5pm.

LIT! A Menorah & Candelabra Clay Workshop with Ben Medansky, Craft and Folk Art Museum (Miracle Mile), 1–4pm.

Artemisa Clark: La clase de dibujo libre/Free Drawing Class (2000-2004/2017), Armory Center for the Arts (Pasadena), 1:30–4pm.

Build a Revolutionary Bear Workshop, WILLIAM GRANT STILL ARTS CENTER (West Adams), 2–4pm.

Lani Trock: Free Food, Big Pictures Los Angeles (Mid-City), 2–5pm.  

PMCA 1234: Second Saturday Spotlight Talk, Pasadena Museum of California Art (Pasadena), 2pm.

In Dialogue: Film in Cuba, Pasadena Museum of California Art (Pasadena), 2:30pm.

LARISA LAIVINS: ONE DAY POP-UP SHOP, Arcana Books on the Arts (Culver City), 3–6pm.

Channing Hansen: Fluid Dynamics, Marc Selwyn Fine Art (Beverly Hills), 4–6pm.

Double Issue Book Release Party, Armory Center for the Arts (Pasadena), 4–6pm.

Materials & Applications 14th Anniversary Gala, Navel (Downtown), 5–8pm.

Workshop: Lighting Design for Dance and Performance with Carol McDowell, Pieter (Lincoln Heights), 5–9pm. $30–50.

Hot Flat, Angels Gate Cultural Center (San Pedro), 5–9pm.

Yossi Govrin, Stephanie Cate & Deborah Lynn Irmas, barba contemporary art (Palm Springs), 5–9pm.

David Krovblit: Shells and John Nyboer: The Real Future: Dancers at The Lot, Los Angeles, Lois Lambert Gallery (Santa Monica), 6–9pm.

Jimi Gleason: Reflected & Absorbed, William Turner Gallery (Santa Monica), 6–8pm.

Art Circles, Getty Center (Brentwood), 6–8pm.

Emily Counts: The Associations, Garboushian Gallery (Beverly Hills), 6–8pm.

JOSH REAMES: Don't cross streams while trading horses, Luis de Jesus (Culver City), 6–8pm.

MICHELLE GRABNER: PATTERNS IN METAL AND OIL and Michael St. John: Portraits of Democracy, Edward Cella Art & Architecture (Culver City), 6–8pm; talk with Mary Weatherford, 5pm.

Nevine Mahmoud: f o r e p l a y, M+B (West Hollywood), 6–8pm.

Hecate, Various Small Fires (Hollywood), 6–8pm.

Aria McManus: Relieviation Works, AA|LA (West Hollywood), 6–9pm.

Anthony Miserendino: Aromi, Moskowitz Bayse (Hollywood), 6–9pm.

Camilo Restrepo: Mera Calentura and Claire Milbrath: Crome Yellow, Steve Turner (Hollywood), 6–8pm.

Andrew Brischler: Lonely Planet, Gavlak (Hollywood), 6–8pm.

Strange Attractors: The​ ​Anthology​ ​of​ ​Interplanetary​ ​Folk​ ​Art Vol.​ ​1​ ​Life​ ​on​ ​Earth, Redling Fine Art (Hollywood), 6–8pm.

Gary Simmons: Balcony Seating Only and Tomorrow’s Man 4, Regen Projects (Hollywood), 6–8pm.

Elizabeth Ferry, Grice Bench (Downtown), 6–9pm.

TELMO MIEL: Bit and Pieces, Odds and Ends, Torrance Art Museum (Torrance), 6–9pm.

TELMO MIEL: Bit and Pieces, Odds and Ends, Fullerton Museum Center (Fullerton), 6–9pm.

THE FUTURE MOVES SLOW, Schoos Night Gallery (West Hollywood), 7–10pm. 

Anja Salonen: new dimensions in recreation, Ana Segovia de Fuentes: Boys and Boots, and Ammon Rost: Paintings, ltd los angeles (Mid-City), 7–9pm.

Eric Leiser: Time Crystals, Museum as Retail Space (MaRS) (Downtown), 7–10pm.

Ghetto Gloss | The Chicana Avant-Garde, 1980-2010, Bermudez Projects (Cypress Park), 7–10pm.

Saturday Nights at the Getty Presents María Volunté: Blue Tango Project, Getty Center (Brentwood), 7:30pm.

Floricanto's Fiesta del Dia de los Muertos, Lee Strasberg Academy (West Hollywood), 8pm.

James Tenney’s Changes: Sixty-Four Studies for Six Harps, The Box (Downtown), 8pm.

Sunday, November 12

Terrain Biennial Los Angeles, Ana Mendieta Performance Day, 3651 Mimosa Drive (Glassell Park), 10am–7pm.

MOCA Day Party, The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA (Downtown), 11am–5pm.

CREATE - Opposites Attract / Los opuestos se atraen, ESMoA (El Segundo), 11am–3pm.

Mini Clothes Fun: Doll Clothes Workshop with Ruth Root, 356 Mission (Downtown), 12–6pm.

Talk: Korean Art Lecture Series | Fugitive Contemporaries: Korean Art After 1979, LACMA (Miracle Mile), 1pm.

Open Studios, FlechtroNEONics (Van Nuys), 1–5pm.

God’s Eye Yarn Weaving: A CraftLab Family Workshop, Craft and Folk Art Museum (Miracle Mile), 1:30–3:30pm.

Studio Sunday on the Front Steps, Santa Barbara Museum of Art (Santa Barbara), 1:30–4:30pm.

Volunteer Appreciation and Recruitment, ONE Archives (Downtown), 2–4pm.

The Landscape Designs of Ralph Cornell, The Huntington (San Marino), 2pm.

How Does Nature Deepen Our Connection to the Sacred?, Getty Center (Brentwood), 3pm.

WORN IN NEW YORK: 68 SARTORIAL MEMOIRS OF THE CITY by EMILY SPIVACK, Arcana Books on the Arts (Culver City), 3pm.

Walkthrough of Axis Mundo with Joey Terrill, MOCA Pacific Design Center (West Hollywood), 3pm.

Hannah Greely and Upstairs: William T. Wiley, Parker Gallery (Los Feliz), 3–5pm.

Alex Israel and Jack Bankowsky, Art Catalogues at LACMA (Miracle Mile), 4pm.

Human Resources Benefit Party and Auction, Ghebaly Gallery (Downtown), 5–8pm.

Performance | River of Everyone River of No One, Main Museum (Downtown), 6:30–8pm.

My Mother the Doctor, Leiminspace (Chinatown), 7–10pm.

Film Screening & Panel Discussion: Fresa y Chocolate/Strawberry and Chocolate, Pasadena Museum of California Art (Pasadena), 7:30pm. 

Tuesday, November 14

Performing the Musical Body: Robyn Nisbet, Pieter (Lincoln Heights), 10am–2pm. $45.

Film: The Girl from Mexico, LACMA (Miracle Mile), 1pm.

Talk: Cur-ATE: Chagall and the Arts, LACMA (Miracle Mile), 6pm.

An evening with Analia Saban and Gabriel Kuri, Getty Center (Brentwood), 7–9pm.

Wednesday, November 15

Fall 2017 Visiting Artist Lecturer: Thinh Nguyen, Claremont Graduate University (Claremont), 4:30pm.

Heather Gwen Martin: Currents and Deborah Butterfield: Three Sorrows, L.A. Louver (Venice), 6–8pm.

AMBIGUOUS REALITY, Santa Monica Art Studios (Santa Monica), 6–9pm.

FOWLER OUT LOUD: MINDFUL MUSIC, Fowler Museum (Westwood), 6–7pm.

Wikipedia Fall Fundraiser, Annenberg Space for Photography (Century City), 7-9pm. $250–25,000.

Rethinking: Programming, Women’s Center for Creative Work (Frogtown), 7–9pm.

Distinguished Fellow Lecture - Did Early-Modern Schoolmasters Foment Sedition?, The Huntington (San Marino), 7:30pm.

[mywherehaus]

Only Tuesday? Ok, wake me up when it’s Friday. 😽...... (at least the litter box will stay clean for the rest of the week 😉) . . #weekdays #catssleeping #waitingontheweekend #kittylitterlouversteam #kittylitterlouvers #cleanlitterbox #catsofinstagram (at Kitty Litter Louvers Hub) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3pRFxsgPSl/?igshid=klz1q51zycs1

[mariatramp56-blog]

12 Best Things to Do in L.A. This Week

From Vegan Sweets Con to an event tackling L.A.'s homelessness crisis, a dance benefit and Latinx performance art, here are the 12 best things to do in L.A. this week.

DANCE

Tilting at Windmills

Miguel de Cervantes' epic novel Don Quixote, about an idealistic knight-errant and his comrade Sancho Panza, has proved to be a universally resonant tale over the past four centuries, with interpretations in multiple formats, including film and opera. The ballet adaptation, with music by Ludwig Minkus and choreography by Marius Petipa, staged and choreographed further by Alexander Gorsky in 1900, has endured as the definitive ballet adaptation, and that's the version brought to the Southland this week by St. Petersburg's high-flying and stylish Mikhailovsky Ballet. Principal dancer Ivan Vasiliev portrays Basilio in the first two evening performances, and Victor Lebedev takes over in the role in the matinees on Saturday and Sunday, with Angelina Vorontsova and Anastasia Soboleva alternating as Kitri. Segerstrom Hall, 600 Town Center Drive, Costa Mesa; Fri., Nov. 9, 7:30 p.m.; Sat., Nov. 10, 2 & 7:30 p.m.; Sun., Nov. 11, 1 p.m.; $29-$189. (714) 556-2787, scfta.org. —Falling James

ART

Check in Here

The last time Art at the Rendon let a few dozen artists loose inside the walls of the mid-transformation Rendon Hotel, they took over every room with a series of art installations that made for an immersive and sometimes intense, hallucinatory experience. A lot of that art is still in place but this weekend, it's interior and exterior video projections and live performance art throughout the building that take center stage. Well, less of a stage and more of a choose-your-own-adventure narrative pastiche of theater and visual reimaginings of the history of this gloriously seedy original Arts District location. In fact, the corner dive bar (familiar to fans of Bukowski's Barfly, and which in the film version basically played itself) will be reactivated as a jazzy period piece serving local brews. All proceeds benefit the theatre programs at nearby Inner City Arts. Rendon Hotel, 2055 E. Seventh St., downtown; Fri.-Sat., Nov. 9-10, 7 p.m.; Sun. Nov. 11, 6 p.m.; $25. (213) 537-0687, artattherendon.com. —Shana Nys Dambrot

BrockusRED hosts Dance/BACK.

Denise Leitner

sat 11/10

DANCE

Giving Back

Deborah Brockus is the prime mover of the L.A. Dance Festival and her own contemporary company, BrockusRED. For the past three years they've hosted the local dance community's charity event Dance/BACK, with 100 percent of the proceeds donated to a designated charity or nonprofit. This year's participants include Maura Townsend's PROJECT21DANCE, Nancy Evans' Dodge Dance Company, Sean Greene, Fuse Dance Company, Lindsey Lollie, Leah Hamel's Carpool Dance Collective, Luke Zendar, Charlotte K. Smith and the host company. Past recipients include Doctors Without Borders (2015), Family Rescue Center (2016) and Doctors Without Borders/International Rescue Committee (2016). This year, the ACLU and the Good Shepherd Women's Shelter will benefit. Whatever finally happens when the dust settles on the midterms, the ACLU undoubtedly will be going to court or paying for current court cases challenging voter suppression efforts in states like Kansas, North Dakota and Georgia. This annual event has become a way to channel the energy of the local dance community and its audience to dance and give back. Entry is an online donation (action.aclu.org/teamaclu/campaign/danceback-2018) or a donation for the shelter brought to the show; advise which you'll do when making the required reservation (Brockus.Dance.inLA@gmail.com). Brockus Project Studios, 618B Moulton Ave., Lincoln Heights; Sat., Nov. 10, 8 p.m.; Sun., Nov. 11, 6 p.m.; entry by donation. brockusproject.org. —Ann Haskins

FOOD & DRINK

Block Party

While it may not be summer anymore, SoCal's temperate climes mean there's never really a bad time of the year to have an event like the Gonzoplex Block Party, with Pitfire Artisan Pizza celebrating the opening of Superba Snacks + Coffee. A host of food — burgers, pretzels, pizza, french fry cones and more — awaits attendees, as well as live music, games and a cash beer garden.There will be various contests of skill, or at least appetite, including pizza making, pizza eating and latte art competitions. All proceeds from the block party's raffle benefit KPCC/Southern California Public Radio (and really, when you think about it, you and your commute, too). Superba Snacks + Coffee, 730 S. Arroyo Parkway, Pasadena; Sat., Nov. 10, noon-5 p.m.; free. eventbrite.com/e/the-gonzoplex-block-party-tickets-48671148716. —Avery Bissett

Courtesy Druid Underground

FILM

Prepare to Be Provoked

"No one knows who they were or what they were doing, but their legacy remains," the great hard-rock philosophers Spinal Tap once mused about the druids in their daft musical homage "Stonehenge." The druids' legacy resurfaces in another form this evening at the 12th annual Druid Underground Film Festival, with a two-hour program of short films and found footage. While the works in this year's edition will shed little light on the actual culture of the druids, they do represent a fascinating collision of provocative short films on numerous subjects presented by series founder Billy Burgess. HM157, 3110 N. Broadway, Lincoln Heights; Sat., Nov. 10, 8 p.m.; $10. (562) 895-9399. —Falling James

sun 11/11

FOOD & DRINK

Dairy-Free Deliciousness

Vegans tend to get ridiculed for their strict diets. But at Vegan Sweets Con — fittingly taking place around the holidays, the most sugar-filled time of year — the healthy and animal-free desserts are anything but boring. Following this summer's Long Beach Vegan Festival, this event gathers more than 30 vendors selling every type of sweet, from cookies and macaroons to chocolates and shakes, in addition to savory options, such as Compton Vegan, which specializes in soul food and BBQ. The schedule also features a cookie bake-off, children's cookie decorating and a dairy-free milk and cookies lounge, as well as demonstrations and appearances by Lauren Toyota, Nicole Allen and Flower Bullock, creator of Stone Girl Treats & Eats, who teaches how to use cannabidiol. The Renaissance Hotel, 1111 Ocean Blvd., Long Beach; Sun., Nov. 11, 11 a.m.-6 p.m.; $10-$40, 12 & under free. (562) 437-5900, vegancookiecon.com. —Siran Babayan

mon 11/12

BOOKS

Murder Mystery

That dozens of unsolved murders were finally solved remains a high point of 2018, and detective novelists have seized upon these latest developments with characteristic vigor. Tonight, Live Talks L.A. presents Paul Levine and Michael Connelly discussing Connelly's new book, Dark Sacred Night (A Ballard and Bosch Novel) ($29, Little, Brown and Company). In this latest page-burner, Detective Renée Ballard stumbles upon former detective Harry Bosch rummaging through old files to solve a cold case. After he leaves, she finds out that he's really on to something and they join forces to close the books on the case at last. Ann and Jerry Moss Theater, 3131 Olympic Blvd., Santa Monica; Mon., Nov. 12, 8 p.m.; $52 reserved + book/$42 general + book/$20 general. (310) 855-0005, livetalksla.org/events/michael-connelly/. —David Cotner

EXPAND

Susanna Mälkki

Simon Fowler

tue 11/13

MUSIC

A Quintet of Premieres

The Green Umbrella series is always one of the highlights of L.A. Philharmonic's season, as adventurous members of the orchestra band together as the L.A. Phil New Music Group to perform strange and experimental avant-garde pieces in front of diverse, open-minded audiences on Tuesday nights. But with L.A. Phil celebrating its 100th anniversary this year, the orchestra is taking the bold step of filling every Green Umbrella program this season with the world premieres of new works. Tonight, Finnish conductor Susanna Mälkki presents a program of new music by European composers Francesco Filidei, Arnulf Herrmann, Lotta Wennäkoski, Miroslav Srnka and Yann Robin. Walt Disney Concert Hall, 111 S. Grand Ave., downtown; Tue., Nov. 13, 8 p.m.; $20-$60. (323) 850-2000, laphil.com. —Falling James

wed 11/14

ART

Clay Makes a Comeback

Ceramics has been having an extended moment of popularity and acclaim in fine-art circles, as more and more contemporary artists embrace the appeal of this slow, heavy, messy medium. Not content to simply appreciate the appeal of this exceptionally analog and physical material, perhaps as a countermeasure against the surge of the digital and virtual, new generations of sculptors are pressing tradition into the service of the modern. One of the most intriguing voices in the clay conversation has been Matt Wedel, whose new show, "Everything is everything," opens in Venice this week. Wedel's unique vision merges his own family background (his dad is a potter) with art historical confidence and expressively personal narrative to create eccentric, painterly ceramic sculptures that innovatively interpret elements from natural and psychological landscapes. L.A. Louver, 45 N. Venice Blvd., Venice; opening reception: Wed., Nov. 14, 6-8 p.m.; exhibit Tue.-Sat., 10 a.m.-6 p.m., thru Jan. 5; free. (310) 822-4955, lalouver.com. —Shana Nys Dambrot

ACTIVISM

Challenging Homelessness

While the response from Los Angeles' political leaders to the city's homeless epidemic has been less decisive leadership and more unfulfilled promises and moribund policymaking, the participants at the L.A. Homelessness Challenge aren't as content to sit around waiting for the status quo to change. Sponsored by United Way of Greater Los Angeles and the Watt Companies, the Shark Tank (but with better ideas!)–style event will award $200,000 to the best service solution for tackling homelessness. The finalists include Venice Family Clinic's proposal to expand and educate the public on street medicine; a program that offers families mobile childcare; and various housing and support regimes. The evening opens with hors d'oeuvres and a cash bar. InterContinental Hotel Los Angeles, 900 Wilshire Blvd., downtown; Wed., Nov. 14, 5:30-8:30 p.m.; free, RSVP required. eventbrite.com/e/la-homelessness-challenge-pitch-event-tickets-50787065480. —Avery Bissett

thu 11/15

ART

The Body Politic

En Cuatro Patas is the Broad's feminist Latinx performance series, in which an eclectic range of possible identities across the community and positions as citizens of the world have been explored, manifesting as interdisciplinary avant-garde quasi-theatrical experiences. This edition features Given Over to Want by internationally acclaimed multimedia artist Nao Bustamante; Shadow Woman by Gina Osterloh, a visual artist who has always enacted performative elements as part of her installations and compositions; and INFESTACIÓN: PISOS I, II, III by the operatically soulful composer-singer-activist Dorian Wood. The Broad, 221 S. Grand Ave., downtown; Thu., Nov. 15, 8:30 p.m.; $15. (213) 232-6200, thebroad.org. —Shana Nys Dambrot

Damien Echols

Courtesy Sounds True

BOOKS

Wrongly Convicted

Damien Echols was one of the West Memphis Three, a trio of teenagers who were convicted in 1994 of murdering three young boys in Arkansas in 1993. The case attracted a lot of media attention, with many followers, including Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder, decrying the judicial process, and the West Memphis Three eventually were freed from prison, if not fully exonerated. Echols and his friends appeared to have been convicted based more on their lifestyle as fans of heavy metal than on hard evidence that definitively proved their guilt. "Magick saved my life," Echols writes in his new book, High Magick. "Magick was the only thing in prison that gave my life purpose and kept me sane." He discusses the book with The Dixie Chicks' Natalie Maines. The Regent Theater, 448 S. Main St., downtown; Thu., Nov. 15, 8 p.m.; $32. (323) 934-2944, ticketfly.com/event/1769072-damien-echols-in-conversation-los-angeles/. —Falling James

Source: https://www.laweekly.com/arts/12-best-things-to-do-in-la-this-week-10036509

[blue-opossum]

The Rainstorm and the Tog

        Morning of January 29, 2019. Tuesday.

        Dream #: 19,034-02. Reading time (optimized) 2 min.

        Random threads produce a temporary imaginary dream self incarnation that weaves a partial model of my conscious self identity, though mostly only those patterns that stem from my current marital status. The setting is a typical erroneous composite that my dream self incorrectly accepts as home.

        Zsuzsanna and I are in a uniquely altered version of the Cubitis house, though less accurate than usual. (She has never lived in America and I have not been there since 1978.) A subliminal thread of dream state awareness emerges as the water reinduction focus and routine (which represents natural melatonin mediation to sustain the dream state). I bring rain down to splash through all the open windows for dream state reinduction (without directly realizing I am dreaming), but another thread adds contrast by the belief of the need to close each window, which I do over time. I close many jalousie windows by pulling down on one of their louvers each time instead of turning the handle.

        Concurrent mode (a more accurate term than "being lucid") never initiates. My dream still becomes more and more vivid and with increased tangibility as rainwater continues to splash on me. I have a brief concern about the water causing damage to books near the windows, but this association remains in the background. Otherwise, this awareness is one of the most common associations in such a scenario. It stems from the seeming incapability between water reinduction and the thinking skills emergence that books represent - as analogous to melatonin bringing sleep rather than consciousness and its inherent thinking skills.

        After I close all the windows in every room (enigmatic space mediation), Zsuzsanna and I go out into the backyard, which is now the backyard of the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane (where we have not lived in years). The guinea pig cages are near the center of the yard. There is a tarpaulin over them, so the animals are safe from the downpour, though there is one young guinea pig that is loose. He is running around in the rain, but so wet as to be barely able to run, his fur soaked and sleek against his body. He seems very sleepy as I pick him up with concern and bring him into the house.

        The animal is now four times bigger and is more like an agouti than a guinea pig. I realize that it is not a guinea pig, but a "tog." It is a combination of goat, hog, and guinea pig (I assume by special breeding techniques). Zsuzsanna is nearby and says, "I love you." I hold and pet the creature for what seems like at least fifteen minutes. There is a deep sense of love as I wake.

        "Tog" is likely a distortion of "dog," which relates to the level of control maintained over the dream, with or without so-called lucidity.

        Zsuzsanna had, without telling me, been thinking about getting our youngest daughter to hold the guinea pigs more often, so they are not as skittish.

[newsexplored]

GTA 5 Online: New Duke O’ Death update goes LIVE for PS4, Xbox One and PC

New Post has been published on https://newsexplored.co.uk/gta-5-online-new-duke-o-death-update-goes-live-for-ps4-xbox-one-and-pc/

GTA 5 Online: New Duke O’ Death update goes LIVE for PS4, Xbox One and PC

ROCKSTAR

The new GTA 5 Online update is live now on PS4, Xbox One and PC

UPDATE ONE: The new Duke O’ Death update has gone live on PS4, Xbox One and PC, Rockstar have confirmed.

Beginning today, the fan-favourite mayhem machine and a range of items previously exclusive to returning players are now available for all players in GTA 5 Online.

Having been a staple for those players who had made the jump from PS3 and Xbox 360, The Duke O' Death, the ride will now be available for eveyone, along with these items:

Marshall Monster Truck

Dodo Seaplane

Kraken Submarine

Imponte Dukes Car

Declasse Stallion Car

Blista Compact Car

Hatchet

Returning players who previously purchased these items can be reimbursed by simply logging in. All reimbursements will be delivered to Maze Bank accounts within the next week.

Double GTA$ & RP on all Contact Missions will be available and these missions can be accessed at any time via the Job menu. In addition, players can receive 50% off Special Cargo Warehouses, 25% off Offices, and earn a 25% bonus payout on Special Cargo Deliveries, as well as receive discounts on armored and armed vehicles.

50% off discounts:

Special Cargo Warehouses

25% off discounts:

Executive Offices

Progen Itali GTB

Truffade Nero

Dewbauchee Specter

Karin Armored Kuruma

HVY Insurgent

Karin Technical

Benefactor Turreted Limo

Benny's Upgrades

Body Armor

All Ammo

ROCKSTAR

A new GTA 5 Online update has been revealed for launch later this week

Unfortunately for Rockstar, some of the next GTA 5 Online update content has been revealed early, confirming that the The Duke O death is set to be made available to all players.

The source of the new information was Rockstar themselves, who apparently tweeted about the vehicle’s return, before then deleting it.

Here’s how the formerly exclusive ride is described on the gta.wikia.com page: "It is a specialised variant of the Dukes. The vehicle is exclusive to players who have already played seventh console generation versions of the game, and is not available to all eighth generation players."

"The Duke O'Death is a highly modified variant of the Dukes; as such, it is based on the 1968-1970 Dodge Charger.

"It features the same chassis and body as the normal Dukes, but comes with custom front bullbars, a roll cage, an external roll bar with lights attached, rear louvers, side exit exhausts, decreased ground clearance and protective armour plates covering the windows and windshield.

"It features a unique supercharger ram air scoop on its hood. Its paint job seems to come in matte black as default."

It also appears that new “Pastel Pajamas” are being added the game everyday until Monday, although it’s unclear if this content was also launched a little early, due to them being removed for a short time.

It’s now been confirmed by dataminers that the Duke will arrive on Tuesday this week, the usual day for GTA 5 Online updates to be released.

It’s also unclear if the new content drop will be paired with any new items, following the release of the Land Grab Adversary Mode last week.

Another has been discovered with the file name ADV_OVRT, however this was found without any guiding in-game text, making it hard to work out what it could be.

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GTA 5 Liberty City map expansion mod

Classic cars, bonuses, stunt races and Adversary Modes have been slowly added to the game over recent weeks, and it appears Rockstar are set to make a new announcement soon on what extra spring content they have planned for release.

The Gun Running expansion is currently the last known expansion for GTA 5 Online planned for release by Rockstar.

“Stock up and bunker down as you take on the craziest militias across the state of San Andreas in another massive update for GTA Online.

“Featuring brand new weaponized vehicles and exciting new missions, get ready to fight for supremacy in the illegal arms trade and wage war with the latest in high-powered military hardware.”

And with Red Dead Redemption 2 releasing Autumn 2017, it could be that Rockstar will start winding down their online launches for GTA Online.

Original Article