Street art by Morley. Move along, nothing to obsess about here.

Great article in Huffington Post  by longtime L.A. art critic and Coagula art journal publisher Mat Gleason about the art world’s somewhat antiquated habits. Among other things he says, which I tend to agree with, are:

“Art is sensual. Academics are not.”

“Art is subjective. There inherently cannot be experts.”

Art should not be consigned. (As professional musicians should not generally play for free, says I.)

Street or graffiti art should be admired for its merit, not who painted it. (People tend to get obsessed with the “who” rather than the “what”.)

He also comes down pretty hard on what he calls the art advice industry (I wonder what Sylvia White would say).

Have a read and chime in!

Repurposed suitcase by Judy Valencerina

“Crafter” may have been a four letter word when it was associated with cloying potpourri,  slate blue country duck motifs and dream catchers, but those days are over thanks to a new era of artisans who rely more on thrift stores than Michael’s for materials and inspiration for their homemade and handcrafted goods.

In March, Ventura will host the Craftcation Indie Business and DIY Conference, which will feature three days of speakers, workshops and networking for crafty types.

This weekend and throughout December, there will be a handful of events designed to showcase local artisans. Re-purposed, recycled and re-imagined items for the home and wardrobe by very talented and innovative people will be available for sale at these fairs. Please join me in attending even one of these and purchasing at least one item.  I’m pretty sure something will be going in my own stocking! (Page down for a short list of locally crafted and curated Etsy stores.)

Handmade Holiday Bazaar and Ballyhoo, Saturday, Dec. 3 at Bernadette’s on Main, 701 E. Main St., Ventura. 4-6 p.m.

Vendors:
Sassy Sally’s/Lindsay Miller • upcycled clothing & one-of-a-kind aprons
Super Natural Flowers • flowered and feathered clips & adornments
Lettre Savage • letterpress cards, journals & books
Casey Murphy • hand crafted soaps galore
Jumbleberri • unique, upcycled baby and children’s clothing
Little City Designs • organic cotton, hand printed apparel & accessories
Julie Knudsen • hand painted necklaces
Gypsy Mayde • unique jewelry & accessories
Tiger Owl Designs • hand printed clothing and other lovelies

Miss Rachel’s Annual Bizarre Bazaar Sunday Dec. 4 162 Kellogg St., Ventura.

All kinds of really cool and different gifts at all price points. Jewelry, hemp dog collars and leashes, “hips”, experienced and vintage clothing, driftwood sculptures, candles and handmade clothing and more! Help the economy and buy direct! We’ll be there with complimentary coffee at 8am and we’ll be open for casual shopping all day til 3pm.

TIANGUIS: Community Arts, Crafts, Jewelry and More, Sunday Dec. 4 and Dec. 11, Noon-6 p.m. Café on “A” /Acuña Gallery and Cultural Center, 438 South “A” Street in Downtown Oxnard

Local artisans include: Under the Sun Cultural Arts Organization, La Catrina Mexican Folk Art y Mas, El Kalpulli de Difusion Cultural Atlachinolli AC, Mixteco Indigena Community Organizing Project and YOLTEUTL ART, Teocintli Shop .

Attaboy Vintage Holiday Party, Saturday, Dec. 3, 4-9 p.m. 2478 E. Main St., Ventura.

A great sale going on that day and evening (30% off books, art and barware!), as well as lots of food, fun, entertainment by the Seahunters as well as dance performances by the beautiful ladies of The Collective and maybe even some prizes!

LOCAL ETSY SHOPS

Raspberriepress 

Pourin Mags

No Artificial Flavors

Chainsaw Comics

Craftosterone

Objectsdeart by Echos of Opal

Lindsay Miller

Remixed Vintage by Judy Valencerina

Caught in the act: Slugworth.

I tried, I really did. I drank deep the broth of humanity that was freely given at Mission Park this weekend by regular people trying to make a difference and succeeding. From this blog, I planned to wax quixotic about the movement, the complete absence of cynicism, the surprising comfort mediocre classic rock covers supplied and the James Bondesque car chase my boyfriend Brett and I engaged in as we attempted to hunt down the man in the white Explorer who was photographing license plates of protesters.

My first trip to the park at about 3 p.m. Saturday was sans the encumbrance of technology: a slim reporter’s notebook in my back pocket, a red pen, a black pen, my eyeglasses hanging from a granny chain and a dumb phone. Armed with his Blackberry, Brett would be my cameraman. The scenario was a little far afield of my adolescent career daydreams,  but aren’t they all?

Upon arriving I immediately connected with Teri Hitt and Phil Wikel who contributed to VCReporter’s Protest Song Project in July. (I had worked on that project for about 5 months before unveiling it during Westside ArtWalk in tandem with 1,000 square feet of provocative protest art by Paul Benavidez (his Unequal Wealth Distribution “LOVE” painting was part of the show and on display at Mission Park this weekend) Sean Tully, Will Fraser, Evita Huapaya and others.

My fire for protest was stoked back then by an infuriating and, dare I say, unjust encounter with the Ventura Police Department and the pricey clusterfuck that followed.  Coupled with some other money-oriented frustrations that I will refrain from discussing here for obvious reasons, I was good and angry and wondering what the hell happened to the protest song anyway? Where are the artists when you need them to convert your vitriol into a catchy melody?

Anyway, it wasn’t long before (back at Mission Park) I was wishing I had a more sophisticated toolthan a ballpoint pen for documenting my experience. The General Assembly (G.A.) was scheduled for 6 p.m. and if I wanted to understand what was actually taking place here and how, I needed to be present for it.

The plan was to go home, get Brett’s laptop and set up shop in the media tent for some live blogging. But then I spotted Kasey Herbison (another VCReporter Protest Song Project participant) who told me he was going to perform at 5 p.m. I try to never miss an opportunity to see Kasey play so the plan changed: Watch Kasey, then book it home for the laptop and book it back in time for the G.A.

Kasey was inspiring as usual and after he finished, Brett and I headed for the parking lot. That’s when we encountered Slugworth and his camera. Two hippie kids also in the parking lot teamed up with us as we attempted to thwart his sinister plot (whatever it was). When we demanded to know why he was photographing license plates, he said it was public property and he was within his rights (paraphrasing). Like Quickdraw McGraw, Brett liberated his Blackberry from his pocket and began videotaping. The man was visibly shaken and headed toward his vehicle after failing to throw us off his trail by pretending to photo his own license plate.

We had no choice but to follow him. I mean what would Anderson Cooper do (other than laugh)?

By now it was a few minutes before the G.A., but knowing there are no accidents, we opted to hunt Slugworth down. Of course we hit every red light on Santa Clara just when it changed and watched, horrified as the white Explorer fell out of view.

“Run the red, run the red!” I cried. “We can’t lose him, damnit!” Brett being the voice of reason refused to acquiesce. It was as though our man had some sort of covert access to the traffic lights. A pocket size device he’d no doubt crafted from used batteries and chewing gum that he could use to control the signals. What an asshole. He probably had a 50-page manifesto under his bed too.

Palm, Oak, Chestnut. . . “FUCK! We lost him!”

But something told Brett to make a left on Fir, coincidentally (or not) the street where the VCReporter offices are. As we approached Main Street to make a right we spotted him travelling East on Main. There was only one vehicle between us. One vehicle driven by one terribly safe elderly man with a handicapped placard hanging from the rear view mirror–and we still needed to get Slugworth’s license plate number.  (By the way, I’m not sure why I decided to name him after the villain in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but it happened only minutes after our initial encounter.)

Brett urged me to remain patient until we got to the part of Main where it mercifully turns into two lanes. He knew I was out for blood. This man was up to no good and I was hell bent on stopping him.

Finally we reached the intersection where the old Jue’s Market used to be and we had to make a choice: Roll up alongside him or stay incognito behind the minivan.  Of course I wanted to get right next to him. I wanted to look into his dark and lifeless eyes. I wanted to put the fear of God into him. That’s when it occurred to me: What if he’s carrying a gun?

This is when it began to unravel. We pulled up next to him. We tried to be cool. Brett, in his banana yellow Unequal Wealth Distribution T-Shirt (Thank you Paul), leather cowboy hat and blue tinted aviators, and I, in my paint splattered hoodie, windblown hair trying to suppress my maniacal laughter.

The light turned green and that must be when Slugworth noticed us because he slowed to about 5 mph in the middle of the road before making a quick right and pulling over on a residential street in midtown. We passed him and went around the block. Tires screeching, wheel turning in hard circles under Brett’s experienced hand, two vigilantes with dark pasts, how in the world did we manage hijack an episode of Dexter?  It was a slick strategy on Brett’s part because when we came back around to the intersection, Slugworth had flipped a bitch and was now to our immediate right.

His light changed and he took off up Catalina toward Poli. Stuck at the intersection from hell, we watched, defeated, as he got away.

By now it was 7 p.m. The good news: we got his license plate. The bad news: we missed the G.A.  We went home to bask in the afterglow of our pursuit and feed the dog.

It was dark, the campers were surely setting up and there would be no live blogging by me. Hell, Slugworth made me forget everything I wanted to write about.

Plan B: Sunday, we’d get up early, do some housework, pack up the laptop and arrive at Mission Park in time for the 11 a.m. G.A. This plan was put to bed when we awoke at 10:30 and I refused to let anything, even a historic uprising, stand between me and my microfiber dusting cloth.

When we finally got our gear stuffed into the car it was once again, nearly  3 p.m.  There would be another G.A. at 6 p.m. so I figured I’d live blog until then, take notes during the assembly and maybe file some sort of story. (Earlier that day Teri had texted me about City Manager Rick Cole visiting the protesters with news of an officer committing suicide, so I knew I’d be writing about this as well.)

We secured a good parking space (no trace of Slugworth) and headed for the media tent (after making sure to get the score to the Raiders’ game on the radio).

It was quite bright in the white easy-up that served as the media area. I opened to wordpress and began my first blog post of the day: “It’s 3 p.m. at Mission Park in Ventura.” I opened another tab, where I began writing a news brief for VCReporter about the visit from Rick Cole. The glare was blinding and though I can type with my eyes closed, proofing my work was near impossible. Add to that the absence of a spell check tool on Brett’s laptop and some weird snafu with the back end of VCReporter’s website and crankiness began to set in. Balancing my ample ass on what was basically a decorative, dwarf folding chair, staring into the shiny black abyss of a screen, I attempted to access an online spellcheck tool.

Meanwhile, Brett had decided to help with the music and the groovy Bob Marley emanating from the P.A. had turned into punk rock. Not realizing he had connected his phone to the sound system, I texted him to say WTF and “California Uber Alles” was replaced by Brett’s messaging alert: the voice of Southpark’s Stan  saying “Fuck Facebook, seriously.” I did it twice more for good measure and because it was sort of how I was feeling.

Finally by grace or magic or sheer stubbornness I managed to file the story for the Reporter about the visit from Rick Cole and associated changes to the occupation. But somehow in the process, I closed the tab to my wordpress account before it had auto saved.

And that’s when I heard the call to begin the G.A.

Technology is a lazy lover who likes to spend money, take long naps and keep secrets. I reached for my faithful notebook and my red pen and headed out.  Live blog fail, occupation in transition and eyeballs oh so red.  Goodnight.

Watch this.

“To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men.” Abraham Lincoln

Case in point: Not long ago there was some discussion about who should live at the WAV and who should not. More than one artist suggested that only “important” artists, people with a recognized body of work who are constantly producing should be able to live within this experimental, affordable housing complex for creatives which the city partially financed.

I couldn’t help but recoil. Who defines importance? As far as I can remember, during the rigorous meetings that preceded ground breaking for the WAV, it was determined that the subjectivity of such things would make it nearly impossible to create criteria for application approval, therefore attitude trumped “talent”  when it came to deciding who would make the cut and who would not. A desire to live to some extent communally, to ride out the challenges of such a social live/work arrangement would be more important than an individual’s perceived talent.  In other words, regardless of your medium, your experience or your potential for bringing national attention to our fair city, you will be considered for this affordable housing project if your life’s work is arts-centered.  Whether your focus is installation, music, textiles, poetry, plein aire  or toothpick sculpture–there is room for you.  And not only at the WAV, but in this world.

Last night I was watching one of those hideous talent programs on television, and an old couple got on stage and sang a standard love song from the crooning era (the title escapes me), and despite their lack of technical ability it was beautiful.  It made me smile to know these two traveled who knows how far, and endured who knows how many evil eyes from Hollywood types, just to get on that stage and sing in public because they love singing. This made me feel as good as seeing Coldplay perform or listening to Marcia de la O read a poem or a piece of art I recently saw at Sylvia White Gallery.

There’s room for everyone–to express, to create, to discover.

I may find as much beauty in a fall leaf wafting past me or the graffiti in my alley as I do in a Kandinsky. I value my old Black Flag fliers drawn by Raymond Pettibon the same as the painting that hangs over my bed.  Anyone courageous enough to step on a stage, face a blank canvas, page or wall,  and then place the result on display, is praiseworthy and not any less relevant than those who perform in stadiums or whose work hangs in prestigious galleries.

Let’s remember in our fervor to champion localism or a certain aspect of the music scene or innovative projects like the WAV—there’s room for everyone!

Today we published our 26th Best Of issue and I think it looks pretty damn good. (And let it be known it’s a bitch and a half to put together mainly for our managing editor Michael Sullivan and our tireless production staff, Christy Sisneros and Enrique Candioti, who did an outstanding job.)  It’s always important to reiterate the fact that the winners are not chosen by VCReporter staff, they are determined by readers. Had the results been a representation of our opinions, they would have been different in many categories.

For instance, I think Rey Fresco is a great and promising band, but I would not have chosen them for first place, although We Govern We and Sideshow Preachers seemed very appropriate for second place, and I will never understand the adoration for the Shoemaker Brothers who placed third.  There are some I absolutely agreed with: B. on Main for Gift Shop, Wild Planet for Shoe Store and Lucy in the Sky for Children’s Haircut, to name a few.  For manicurist, chiropractor and veterinarian, of course I would have chosen the ones I use, and being that I’m not in the right tax bracket to belong to Pierpont Racquet Club I would have picked a different winner for Best Tennis Courts.  But while some results I don’t agree with simply as a matter of taste or preference, others bordered on injustice, the most glaring being Best Visual Artist. (Relax, before you assume I’m dissing MB Hanrahan.) Though I can’t even begin to imagine what the criteria for Best Artist would be, MB was an excellent choice, even if only for her fierce dedication to community service–the woman’s fingerprints are literally all over this town. But, with all respect to those who “won,” so many serious, important and stalwart artists were left out entirely.  This is why, it’s important to take the results with a grain of salt (or a shot of whiskey) because

A: there’s no accounting for taste

B: the reader’s poll is, for better or worse, a popularity contest, and as with elections, people often vote for names they recognize, not names they have first-hand familiarity with

C: this city has become too big for its britches anyway so breathe.

All that said, I put together my own list of Ventura County “Bests” just for the hell of it.

• Band: Jeff Hershey and the Heartbeats
• Tennis Court: Ventura College
• Veterinarian: Mission Animal Hospital
• Manicurist: Raechelle Prado (regular manicures last me a solid week and that’s saying a lot.)
• Chiropractor: Dr. Daniel O Schneider (An Irish Jew? I have no idea, but this man is a magician.)
• Breakfast: Art’s Corner Cafe (For the Corner Cakes and scrambles. Yum.)
• Italian: La Trattoria (Never mind the decor, the food is the shizzle).
• Mexican: Tacqueria Tepatitlan and Cuernavaca.
• Sandwich: Meridians (Why do they never win anything? So wrong.)
• Jukebox: Ventura Bowling Center
• Art Gallery: Sylvia White (I mean, seriously. . .), followed by Vita Art.
• Artist: Because I believe this is a ridiculous category and that artists (and musicians for that matter) really shouldn’t be included in competition, I couldn’t pick a winner, but the following artists I would have at least liked to have seen in the poll results somewhere: Paul Benavidez,  Larissa Stowe, Sean Tully, Gerd Koch, Paul Lindhard, Joe Cardella, Hiroko Yoshimoto, Norman Kirk, Monica and Matt Furmanski, David Pu’u, David and Linda Elder,  and the list goes on.

And as an afterthought, the Best Ad in the Best Of Ventura County issue goes to Cafe Zack for its minimalist call to relaxation and simplicity. As soon as I can scrape together some dough, I’ll be right over for dinner.

The brave (though he eschews this characterization) and talented Chinese artist who has suffered at the hands of police for defending personal liberties is out of jail. There is an interesting and encouraging conversation with him in the L.A. Times as his new exhibition “Circle of Animals/Zodiac Heads” opens at L.A.C.M.A.  (If you haven’t seen the PBS documentary Never Sorry about Ai Weiwei and the American journalist attempting to chronicle his journey, it’s well worth the time.)

“People no longer want to be consumers of your brilliance, they want connection. It’s great to enjoy [high caliber work] but it can be alienating. It’s OK to distinguish between work that’s masterful and that’s not.” –Tracy Hudak