We're pathologically social. We're professional leisurists. We're burrito lovers, bar flies, art whores and music nerds. We dish the good dirt, and we'll risk a parking ticket for a cheap sample sale. Sometimes, we blog drunk.
The Hochbaum has landed
You may have encountered David Hochbaum before: he's the guy with the chin scruff and silk screens that comes out to L.A. with his buddies from the Goldmine Shithouse art collective. I met him last when they took over a portion of the New Image Art Gallery and he sent me home with a freshly screened T-shirt with goat heads on it. I still have it. It's boss.
Hochbaum just flew into L.A. this week to take over the Corey Helford Gallery, setting up for his solo show "To the Winds." He left the silk screens at home this time, opting for a new crop of delightfully anachronistic photo collages and a Tower of Babel constructed of over 100 ladders.
I popped by last night to see how the building was going, ride a cherry picker, and eat some leftover carrot cake.
Ahh, progress
A piece awaiting a frame
Tools of the trade
After his long day of building ladders, and my not building ladders, we decided to meet up with pals at the Cha Cha for a few well-earned Stellas.
Ever lovely comrade Georgia joined, and at the end of the night, hunger came a-calling, so we hit the Brite Spot for some ridiculous cupcake action. That top layer is some sort of peanut butter blanket.
Not bad for a Wednesday.
Miss Alie Ward
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