Occasionally, my friend Lu and I meet at a local coffee house to do a little drawing and painting. We bring our watercolors and brushes, paper and pencils, and we sit, absorbed in our task. It's a very relaxing, focused kind of activity that pleases us, although we don't do it very often. (Doing something pleasant in L.A. takes time and gas, you know.)
The other day we met at Intelligentsia at Sunset Junction, where the barristers take their coffee-making seriously. Long lines of Silverlake hipsters form to buy expensive coffees and everyone seems to be attached to one thing or another. Lu pointed out one young man tethered to his ipod thusly, seemingly entranced by what he heard.
As we paint we catch up on things, life, loves, work, etc. If you saw us, you might think we were sisters— sisters who don't need to pay strict attention to get every nuance of the conversation. We've known each other forever; as a result, we know what's coming, what's needed, what's best left unsaid.
Lu has a real sister, though, a sister whom she sees as often as is possible when one is busy and lives in another city. That she struggles with this relationship is no surprise, as I've done with my brother, as siblings do. As for my surrogate sister and I, we have the usual empathies and envies—happiness at the other's good fortune, sorrows when things go south—but without the ties of familial blood or obligation. Some would say, a relationship similar to being siblings... but better.
Lu at Intelligentsia
Talking about happiness, last Saturday night Lu's husband Lloyd had an opening at the Cardwell Jimmerson Gallery in Culver City. It was a grand affair with family and old friends gathering around to admire his work.
Lloyd and niece Sarah looking at the work
It was fun to see how the crowd interacted with the architectural installation scattered across the floor. Here's Sarah's gold boots framed by a towering angle.
In addition to his seventies work, Lloyd had a few new pieces tucked in the back. When I first heard the cooing of so many "ooohs" and "aaahs," I thought there must be a baby back there, or at least a chihuahua.
But no, it was a big beautiful felt chapeau! Congrats Lloyd! The show runs until March 27.