Hollywood

I spent the latter part of the 2010 summer painting the new Floyd's Barbershop on Selma & Cahuenga in the heart of Hollywood. Since Hollywood is all the way across town from Venice (and LA traffic is absolutely brutal) I'd get out there late morning after the morning commute died down and stay out there til nighttime (and sometimes later). It was actually a pretty awesome schedule: drive, paint, get lunch and drinks at the now-defunct Kung Pao Kitty, paint, do happy hour at Loaded, paint, and then stop for a couple drinks on the way home (or to do more local carousing with Nick & the Fred.

I had a blast painting this shop, the staff was fun and the theme of the wall was right up my alley. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang is my favorite movie ever so I chose to prominently paint Robert Downey & Val Kilmer's characters along with Kim Basinger's heart-warming prostitute from LA Confidential in an old Hollywood glory days scene.

A year later...

Damn, just noticed it's been almost exactly a year since I've been on here. In that time I've painted a ton, spent enough time in bars to qualify as an artistic Bukowski, enjoyed the little things for the first time in my entire life, and the Houston Texans still haven't made their first playoff trip (pleeeease let this be the year that changes!).

I'm about to start the biggest wall I've ever done in Venice Beach at the end of september so I'd like to use the next few weeks to catch up on here with everything I've done in the past 12 months.... and try to show some old stuff I never put on here when I started this delightfully low-budget blog/site.

As a sad side note my close friend/mentor/and collaborator Dash passed away a little while back and I promise to do a memorial piece for him before the year's over... miss ya bro!

Women Drivers

I know not all women are bad drivers. Most are... but not all. I still love them... or at least like them enough to spend time with them. Some even get me work. One particular little lady decided to make a right turn into the Floyd's Barbershop in Encino as her Lexus tore into the shop in much the same manner that Godzilla tore into metropolitan Japan.

After a temporary wall was erected (feel free to giggle at me saying "erect") I got to paint my homage to her driving on the outside... and a piece on the inside. I'd been dying to paint Mugatu from Zoolander and his little dog forever... and now all the hairdressers know how hot Never is (it's obviously true because Mugatu says it is).

The Garter pt.II

I like being in bars. There's friends, girls, and alcohol. Many even have food (though not all have girls). Doing artwork for bars is a way to actually get praised and paid for spending my days (and nights) in bars where normally I'm just spending money... and time.

The Garter (on Lincoln just north of Washington) is one of my favorite watering holes in Venice so it works out quite well that they actually like my artwork.

Burbank Mural

I never knew that much about the city of Burbank. I knew it was relatively far from the cool waters of the Pacific Ocean. I knew it was hot. And I knew it had a great old car culture. That was before I spent the past couple months making the drive out there from the 405 to the 101 to the 134... well that was the way with no traffic. I've spent plenty of time on the 5, Magnolia, and Riverside Dr. attempting to circumvent the masses or just to catch the tail end of Happy Hour.

My first 5 or 6 murals were all in towns that I knew well. Towns that I'd spent time in and had a good idea about the history of the areas. My last two, however, were in cities that I'd spent little to no time in (Burbank and Chicago). There's something intimidating about the challenge of capturing the history and feeling of a town on a wall... when you've never been there. Adding to the challenge was that I wanted this to be my first full-color mural (I had a tendency to lean toward the black and gray).

Nevertheless, after countless hours exploring Burbank, and the lovely bars and eateries within (Fiesta Taco, Santoro's, Champ's, the Foxfire, etc.) and many trips to old book tores in pursuit of vintage photos... I finally finished the wall. Many thanks to the O'Brien brothers for providing the wall, Kat and Ash for keeping me company and donating pizza, Bud Brian for his bar travel guide, and Natalie for being the shop manager and a model on the wall...

Phew Chozen

It had been years since my buddy Kub and I painted a wall together. Back in 2004 or 2005 we would head out every weekend to hit yards, legals, street spots, and everything in between from Ventura County to San Diego. Back then it was always me, him & our third friend Kryst. None of us had real jobs... we just painted... a lot. As the years went on I started working every weekend, Kryst had a couple kids (well his chick did, not him, but they were still his), and Kub got out of Southern California for a while before settling into a regular grown up job.

Fast forward five years and older, more tattooed, employed versions of ourselves met up over on Lincoln Blvd. in Venice to paint together for the first time in ages. And it was exactly why I got into graffiti in the first place. I had an absolute fucking blast hanging out, painting, and catching up with a good friend that I barely noticed that the sun was gettin lower in the sky and that I had to get my ass to work (a problem I didn't have back when we first started painting together). So, until the next time Kub & I paint again here are a couple photos of that day in Venice...

The Garter

So a couple months back I did a pin-up girl at The Garter (a rad bar on Lincoln & Washington). Now, that's not the first time I've started a story like that (true story), but this time it was a painting... a 23 foot tall painting.

This created a pretty cool "Attack of the 50' Woman" thing when you were heading south on Lincoln, but alas it didn't last long. Changes at the bar led to my piece (and a Shepherd Fairey poster wall across from it) getting painted over.

The good news is that I'm gonna be doing a new, smaller painting on the front of the bar in the next couple weeks so if you see me up on the ladder say hi, buy me a beer (Tecate please), or throw me your phone number (like the porn star in Californication does to Hank Moody... provided you like the aforementioned porn star... or are at least decent).

This is the only cameraphone photo I have of this wall. If anyone has a better flick please send it to me. If you're attractive (and female) please feel free to include a few of yourself too...

Rained Out

Rain makes it tough to paint murals. I have two walls that are all primed and ready to get started on... and instead I'm lying in bed watching reruns of Blue Mountain State and typing to you guys. I'm not complaining: the show is awesome, my bed is comfortable & I've got my luxurious pajama pants on.

I am being a little productive. If and when these rains ever end (and with this being Southern California it should be clear and dry by dinner time... well, at least my dinner time. Waking up at noon tends to lead to a meal schedule in line with Hawaii's time zone), then at least I'll have all my sketches done and be ready to go. Probably.

Burt Reynolds and the Sons of Anarchy

So, on my way home from Saints & Sinners (an awesome bar over by Palms) and a lot of liquid inspiration from my friend, high school classmate, and bartender Colleen... I decided to put up a couple altered bus benches. One, a modified Sons of Anarchy design made me feel pretty gangster. Seriously. No straight guy should be able to watch that show without feeling the burning desire to do push-ups or punch someone or at least swagger confidently through a dusty lot.

The second poster was a nude Burt Reynolds lying provocatively in a sea of chest hair on a bear rug. Enough said.

The only problem is that when I sobered up the next morning I'd totally forgotten that I'd even put up the bench ads. This didn't affect me at all... until a few days later when I drove past one of them. Making a quick u-turn I got a decent photo of Burt Reynolds. However there were still no signs of the Sons.

Thankfully, my buddy Siez solved the developing mystery of the missing busbench with Hardy Boys-like precision (or Where in the World is Carmen San Diego, your choice) when he mentioned that he'd just seen it on the way to the bar. After a couple of drinks with my bus bench savior, Saturn, Obeks, and some girls Obeks may or may not have met online, I took off into the night to capture a peeling yet still intact photo of the long-lost bench... and then proceeded to NY&C Pizza for a celebratory nightcap (and some damn good Chicago style pizza at 1:47am)...

RIP Devin

Devin Petelski, a girl from my neighborhood, was killed by the police this past fall. It was a senseless tragedy and a great loss for the Westside.

I painted this bus bench in her honor on the corner where she passed away. You can see the shrine her friends have created for her in the background of the second picture.

Here's a link to a facebook page about Devin if you'd like to read more about her:
http://www.facebook.com/#/group.php?gid=154468494787

Rest in peace Devin, you'll be missed...

Late Night Dining

Waking up at 1pm with a hangover leads to interesting eating habits. For example, breakfast is now at 1:30, lunch sometime around 7, and dinner falls right around midnight. Most days (or nights), that's great, but on christmas eve places close really fucking early! What are you supposed to do when you get hungry while waiting for Santa?!? Theoretically, one could cook themselves something, but if you’re an adult who’s still looking forward to the arrival of that imaginary elf then you’re either too stupid or too drunk to be anywhere near a stove… and probably a microwave. Therefore, I’ve written this handy late-night dining guide for you. Enjoy… and look for my scribes on the sink.

Original Tommy’s
A big part of the appeal of late night dining is that there’s no “I can’t believe I just ate that” factor. Chances are you’re going to be in bed dreaming about candy canes and unicorns by the time the food has reached your stomach. In the wee hours of the night people are better looking, the city is much more beautiful, and food tastes that much better. In fact, I’m sure if vampires dined on their human prey during the day they’d probably be unable to withstand the taste of blood. At night, however, it’s warm and filling so that’s really all that matters. In fact, if you eat Tommy’s during the day, you’re definitely going to be counting down to your visit to the lavatory, all the while wondering how you finished a Double Chili-Cheeseburger, Chili-cheese Fries, and a Diet Pepsi. The Diet Pepsi is mandatory, because drinking a fully sugared soft drink with a meal at Tommy’s is pure gluttony. A scourge of the southland, however, is the plethora of Tommy’s imitators doing business under slightly remixed titles of the Original Tommy’s. There’s Tom’s, Thom’s, Thomas’s, Tommy’s (notice the absence of “Original), and many other similarly-christened establishments. If you are sober enough to notice the difference at 1:52 in the morning, then chances are you’re not going to be in the mood for a Chili-Cheeseburger.

Twain’s Restaurant
Let me begin by admitting that I know that there are absolutely no good reasons why one should be in Studio City at 3:38 a.m. That being said, my buddy Drool and I found ourselves zooming through the Valley late one night (or early one morning, whichever makes you happier) in pursuit of the mythological beast known as the dipped cone. As everyone knows, dipped cones are delicious, so it’s safe to assume that we were not the first to embark on such a journey. Soon we discovered two things: that we had no idea where to find a dipped cone in the hours after Foster’s Freeze closes, and that we were hungry enough that we would eat just about anything. Roughly half a mile later, “anything” took the form of Twain’s Restaurant. The first thing I noticed about Twain’s was how nice our waitress was. If I was delivering plates of hash browns at ungodly hours I would be as bitter as Dr. Claw after being vanquished by Inspector Gadget. Actually, I would be unhappy delivering hash browns at any hour of the day or night… and it was usually Penny and Brain who foiled Dr. Claw’s diabolical schemes. All cartoon plots and potato byproducts aside; Twain’s serves excellent diner food at a reasonable price so if you’re ever stuck in Studio City way past your bedtime make sure to stop by Twain’s.

Izzy’s Deli
Despite what the hipsters at Swingers, and Mel’s Drive-In want you to believe, it is really not that cool to be seen dining with your friends after a night out. While the trendier spots may read like a who’s who of who didn’t find someone to hook up with (and often for obvious reasons), you definitely don’t have to worry about being seen at Izzy’s Deli. In fact, given the atmosphere at Izzy’s, you may almost wish that no one from your Pilates class stumbles across you devouring corned beef hash and a Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda. I wouldn’t be caught dead in a Pilates class anyway, so I’m able to enjoy my magnificent plate of breakfast meats and over-medium unborn poultry with a clear conscience. The ambiance at Izzy’s is roughly equivalent to that of an adult bookstore (hypothetically speaking, of course, I’m a good person), with their darkened windows and off-street entrance. High school kids out way past their curfew, bar goers stumbling in from the nearby Wilshire bars, and elderly Russian couples often make up the majority of the clientele. Until I visited Izzy’s for the first time, I’d actually never seen any old people out after 10 p.m. The menu consists of standard deli fare, which suddenly becomes superb deli fare when you’re hit with an intense craving for matzo-ball soup shortly before the 2 a.m. Sportscenter comes on. If that’s the case, Izzy’s greased-lightning service will have you back in front of your television by the time they get to Ochocinco's newest highlight.

La Cabana
Nightclubs and bars, while great, are often difficult arenas in which to participate in quality conversation. While dancing and drinking may create a spark, sometimes a nice quiet place (and more alcohol) may help really fan the flames. If you are looking for the perfect setting to get to know the girl you just met at last call, look no further than La Cabana. It is also a great place to bring that guy you just met, that guy and girl you just met, or that burly group of matadors and their pet bull Dartanian. I’ve lived in LA my whole life so nothing really surprises me anymore, although if you bring the matadors you’ll probably have to leave the bull outside. Open until 3 a.m. every night of the week, La Cabana has an unrivaled selection of quesadillas and reigns supreme as the home of the best margaritas on the Westside after midnight. While that may be interpreted as an honor similar to that of Miss Southwest Wyoming, it’s actually very important. Who really wants to drive back from some godforsaken place such as Silverlake with five margaritas bouncing around your stomach? As a word of advice, if you are dining (or drinking) with someone you just met in a bar or club avoid the patio at all costs. It is the only well-lit section of La Cabana, so don’t let some particularly good lighting lower your evaluation of your “date.” In fact, the brilliant combination of dim lights, strong margaritas, and red velvet decorations may make just about anyone good-looking. Even the matadors’ pet bull Dartanian…

Original Tommy’s
(many locations all over the place)

Twain’s Restaurant
12905 Ventura Blvd.
Studio City, CA 91604

Izzy’s Deli
1433 Wilshire Blvd.
Santa Monica, CA 90403

La Cabana
738 Rose Ave.
Venice, CA 90291

Wicker Park Mural

I'd always heard Chicago was an awesome city. A bunch of my buddies from the bars are Chicago natives, many of my favorite bands are from there, and all the mobster flicks based on Chicago are entertaining as Hell. No one, however, mentioned the temperature.
It was like painting in the fucking south pole... minus the penguins... which would've been glorious.
The Lawrence Arms (from Chicago) have a great lyric where they "walk through the snow to a bar where there's no one I know, drink slow, drink slow, with nowhere to go..." and while I totally felt that way during my solo missions to the Rainbo in -10degree snow-filled nights, I really did have somewhere to go. I was planning on finishing a 35' mural in a little under 6 days. Thanks to an unsafe combination of no sleep, sugar free energy drinks, freezing weather, Dunkin Donuts, bars that are open til 4am, and the quality company of hairstylists and receptionists... I finished (all the while wearing economy argyle socks from walgreens. I'd forgotten to pack socks for the trip).

Mar Vista Mural

If you find yourself driving westbound on Venice Blvd. through the lovely city of Mar Vista feel free to pull over and check out my new mural on the side of Floyd's Barbershop. I had a great time painting this one... except when I was way up on the ladder. That was scary. Especially with little guys flying by on bicycles.
This was a pretty personal piece for me, and it was nice to paint a tribute to my family, my influences, and my city so close to where I was born.
The band featured in the mural is The Gaslight Anthem, and their music plays a huge part in my artwork.

Trying this at home...

I needed a website. Every time someone asks me if I have a website I feel like some sort of social leper when I direct them to my outdated myspace page or huddle closely with them as I show them photos of my work on my phone. It's sort of like pulling up to the valet at The Standard in an '84 Datsun that's mostly burgundy except for the gray primered front quarter panel... yeah at least you're at The Standard but you're really not impressing anyone (except maybe for Datsun aficionados... but you really shouldn't associate yourself with them anyway).

Therefore, I've not only bought a new car, but I've created this fabulous blog (yes, I used the word fabulous & yes I'm straight. I'm just taking that word back. I'm already jealous of the gays for their ability to enjoy delicious fruity drinks at bars... drinks that actually have bits of real fruit! I'm taking those back, too, but I'm starting with "fabulous" so that I an adequate adjective to describe my future drinks).

Enjoy... or at least tell me you enjoy my artwork. You don't have to mean it... but if you are lying to me then please tell me that you think I'm dreamy too (that goes doubly for Taloe).