Bryan Jackson

Cinnamon Roll'n at Jerry's | documentation of a dream, for a friend

A friend of mine has a partial/full-on obsession with cinnamon rolls, and who am I to deny someone (pix of) their drug of choice? Especially with prices starting at $2.19 for almost a pound of dough, cinnamon and sugar + 10 other ingredients. Of course, while the prices are incredibly low, you do eventually pay big.

STD | Los Angeles

Scenes of total destruction, Los Angeles.  The apartment building where I lived when I first moved to Los Angeles is being torn down.  While I really liked my lesbian roomates, 1 of their 3 cats, and their Falcon VideoPak VHS porno tape, the apartment (a once-classier building ruined by our slumlord) was a total dump.  Here's to architectural erasure!

A Very Gay Christmas Party | Super VivaHome

Tokyo - A sweet older gay Santa couple moved into a run-down stable (which they got for a steal) and completely redid the place from the groundup. The couple made sure to keep some of the old-warm charm - the former manger makes a cheeky, but sweet bar for making cocktails. For their first Christmas in their new place they invited over the lesbian snowwomen couple from down the street and their snotty reindeer neighbor Prancer (who is still single, big suprise). Although he didn't say anything, he clearly disapproved of their decorating style.

Pekopoko Just Cross Stitched My Heart

Yes, okay I'm guilty alright? I bought this for the package alone.

Fauchon For Sure

Yesterday started with a treat before an insane day running around Tokyo for installation supplies. Let's just say, the Japanese don't know paint - wall paint that is. Since most people here would never paint their apartment there is no such thing as a giant paint sample display - even at the big box Super Viva Home. Lesson learned. I ended up mixing my own.

While this store is big by Tokyo standards, my heart is still in Tokyu Hands. 

Finished pinku wall at community center akta - mandala installation happens today.

Cheap Lay's on a Pretty, Pretty Astro Night

It was one of those nights, chilling on the west edge of hollywood waiting for MZKINM to arrive so we could hit the Divine inspired Pretty? Pretty? gallery show at Meltdown Comics. I was on the phone with Heath, who was the reason I even knew about the show, commiserating  about not being able to be running around drunk and loud together since he is only newly in Arizona.  As we talked, I trolled the isles of awful at 7-eleven looking for anything I would actually consume. I settled on a Slurpee only to have the machine shit Coke on my hand. I guess you have to pay atttention to the lights tucked on the side. #3 was red as hell. Just another little design failure in a store for/of the end of the world.

The show at Meltdown was fun and I really like the back alley feel of the gallery space.  But what's up with low attendance? Is there something about the season? A kind of cultural fatigue? Or maybe it was the effect of the free booze. The low cal vodka was exactly like how I imagine drinking poppers would taste with the attendant instant headache.

Afterwards I made MZKNM go to Astro Burger - which isn't the same without the tranny hookers out front or spotting the likes of Henry Rollins or Dirk Shafer munching recklessly on greasy food.

Going to the Getty Supergraphics

 

Tonight I attended the Opening Celebration for Pacific Standard Time: Art in L.A. 1945-1980 at The Getty Center.  To open the evening there was a Cocktail Reception culminating in "The Reveal" that was at once massive and limp.  Actually, the best part was right before the supergraphic show started, when every single light at the Getty went out and it was just champagne, the night sky and a fingernail moon.  But then the music swelled and a movie trailer style voiceover began leading the audience thru pedestrian summations of each decade that the show covers, along with clipart-quality graphics and more overwraught underscoring. When you add in the corny catering it became all very Disney Themepark and... let's just say I don't think I will ever forget it.

I was however very interested in the show in the Getty Research Institute Exhibition Gallery, Greetings from L.A.: Artists and Publics, 1950-1980 curated by John Tain.   As someone who wasn't in California at the time, the social/polictical period is quite interesting.  I will be sure to return to take my time with the video interviews and emphemera.

MZKNM & The Karate Kat

Age lies in the mind and the heart. Happy Birthday Down Under MZKNM!

'The Karate Kat' by Ray Young Chu snapped at Novel Cafe in the Arts District.

Tiger Touching Tail

We're having a heatwave, a it's-so-fucking-hot-it's-not-even-funny heatwave.  Monday was like a high fever, with first-day-back packed classes, searing temperatures, and the remainder of a cold.  A fast train ride through the dark but simmering southland and musty-but-chilly Metro bus across town and suddenly I was back in Westwood where everything was still hot and all the cafe's were closed.  In the search for lemonade I spotted this tiger almost touching his tail in a store window. It was a moment of cool seduction in the heat sink of LA.  I took it as a sign and went for ice cream instead. 

Swell Party

With Jose in NYC most of the year, the Blue Line to Long Beach is one of those Metro lines I rarely take.  Every Blue Line trip is full sensory overload.  At the Pico Station, a contingent of Cosplay Anime convention survivors boarded.  I think of Cosplay as drag for geeks.  Well, more like female impersonation.  But considering the things I have worn in public, nothing much shocks me. Nor did the Cosplay tweens garner much attention from the passengers who have seen it all.

Later on, a station after we bid farewell to our affable entertainers, a new arrival took over their roost.  You know, the smell of tuna in a train car really travels fast.  Before looking up I thought - you can't eat on the train!  But then I saw the mangled tuna can, the crazy look in her? eyes, and the fact that this not-homeless-looking person was eating the tuna with the pointy end of a bottle opener.  A few stations later, after finishing dinner service the passenger disembarked, the smell of tuna however lingered on.

Fresh air, retirees, and cholo-adjacent fashion signaled my arrival to Downtown Long Beach. Walking along Ocean Blvd. with cars zipping the blustery winds were a welcome refresher.

The subject is of course the swell party at Jose's recently tightened-up, portfolio-ready condo.  In the evening, with it's sleek black stained floors, views to the Queen Mary and ocean backdrop, the place is effortless.  There were lots tastes and friendly faces including a dreamy potato and chickpea curry over couscous.  I had a lovely Veuve Clicquot-fueled time but had to leave early to catch the train back.  The bite of apple tarte tartin fed to me as I dashed out will live on in my memory.  Friendship and food are such guilty pleasures.

Treats at GR/Eats

Strawberry Shortcake after a yummy Curry Udon is ridiculously indulgent. Yes, it's that kind of day. And no, I'm not sharing - go get your own GR/Eats.

T.G.I. Don't

It was a long, crazy night of art, live music by Yogstar, and post-performance drinks at the only late night place open in Irvine. Let's just say I will never be talked into TGI F-that-place again.

Blog posted here.

Pizza in Purgatory

Comes with a slice of Kevin.

A small portion, to be polite

Brian & I have been walking the streets of SF all afternoon. We stopped in Hayes Valley for a little Citizen Cake to see us into the New Year.

Sno Job

I spotted Frosty working the front door at the Nijiya Market on Sawtelle. Gotta pay the rent I guess.