Androphobia art show
Derek reminds me of an art opening taking place at a new gallery on the main street of this resort town. I'd been on my back for a few hours watching bad movies on the SciFi channel with Rob and Iratia at their house. His spine is out of allignment or something. His voice is different - raspy, weak somehow - one shoulder's higher than the other. He's a trooper though and still rides his bicycle to the exhibit. I rise from the floor and am out the door and on my motorcycle passing derek in 23 seconds.
I see people out side with glasses of wine and bottles of beer in their hands as I park my CBR on the sidewalk. My spontaneous arrival leaves my fashion quotient on the low side. My jean shorts and t-shirt are met with blank stares from the various patrons who are dressed in all kinds of ways. A few look like they are on their way to a country western dance where they'll be drinking lemon-aide. Others have a sort of retro feel to their garb. Most have a cosmopolitan look that would work in LA.
One woman catches my eye but I never speak with her. She's a gorgeous black woman, smooth skin, bright smile, long white sheer dress. She's one of the artists whose work's being presented. The entertainment consists of a woman playing a harp and 4 'models' . 3 are women and one a male and they are all topless. It's all bout art so don't get any ideas. The dude has on a pair of beat up boots and a leather loin thingamajig with a tiny lepard pattern sock covering up his willy. The women have long flowing white toga type setups where one breast is exposed. They are loosely based on the 'modeling for the artist' scenario that has been a mainstay in the artworld.
The typically mundane art show had been spiced up a bit. The girls were all kind of cute so I did not mind being exposed to their breasts. They tried to act majestic and artsy I guess; freezing in dramatic poses while the old lady harpist strummed out ballads and the various guests stared at them while they drank wine and ate cashews.
What made this excursion interesting to me was that I'd just read an exerpt from Robert Anton Wilson's latest ontological cannon ball shot over the bow of the American funeral progression. I'm referring to his latest book: Email to the Universe. The exerpt is concerned with andophobia - the marginalization of the male perspective. The premise of this essay is based on the documented oppression of males in our culture and the taboo on discussing or acknowledging that it even exists.
This provided an interesting subtext for me as I gazed at the various giant paintings hanging from the walls. There were some sculptures as well. All of the paintings depicted women as goddesses. Beautiful, sexy and in their prime. On the other hand the men were all depicted as decrepit, lying at the feet of the goddess/women like a dog or not pictured at all. Yeah, this thing was all about celebrating women and bashing men - androphopbia.
At one point the topless models are 'posing'. The women, all dressed like Venus; the man, dressed like a caveman - has a look like a dog begging for food starting at the woman like she's a - you guessed it - deity. To me this was all the equivalent of an academic experiece in the random school of life.
Today, I get the call from Gates at around 9:30 AM. He needs help with the geodesic dome that is being bulit behind the hot pink metaphysical bookstore that has just opened. I pull up on my bike and park it in the back, near the framework of the dome. Its exactly 1 PM. I call Steve to see what I can do and to express my awe at the size of this thing. It has a 36 foot diameter - yikes! Little do I know that we will be here till dark; an eight hour day. Putting this thing together is like 3D twister. geodesic domes are made up of triangles which in turn make up hexagons and pentagons.
I will not bore you with the details of this one but suffice to say - "its a monster" to quote Steve.
I see people out side with glasses of wine and bottles of beer in their hands as I park my CBR on the sidewalk. My spontaneous arrival leaves my fashion quotient on the low side. My jean shorts and t-shirt are met with blank stares from the various patrons who are dressed in all kinds of ways. A few look like they are on their way to a country western dance where they'll be drinking lemon-aide. Others have a sort of retro feel to their garb. Most have a cosmopolitan look that would work in LA.
One woman catches my eye but I never speak with her. She's a gorgeous black woman, smooth skin, bright smile, long white sheer dress. She's one of the artists whose work's being presented. The entertainment consists of a woman playing a harp and 4 'models' . 3 are women and one a male and they are all topless. It's all bout art so don't get any ideas. The dude has on a pair of beat up boots and a leather loin thingamajig with a tiny lepard pattern sock covering up his willy. The women have long flowing white toga type setups where one breast is exposed. They are loosely based on the 'modeling for the artist' scenario that has been a mainstay in the artworld.
The typically mundane art show had been spiced up a bit. The girls were all kind of cute so I did not mind being exposed to their breasts. They tried to act majestic and artsy I guess; freezing in dramatic poses while the old lady harpist strummed out ballads and the various guests stared at them while they drank wine and ate cashews.
What made this excursion interesting to me was that I'd just read an exerpt from Robert Anton Wilson's latest ontological cannon ball shot over the bow of the American funeral progression. I'm referring to his latest book: Email to the Universe. The exerpt is concerned with andophobia - the marginalization of the male perspective. The premise of this essay is based on the documented oppression of males in our culture and the taboo on discussing or acknowledging that it even exists.
This provided an interesting subtext for me as I gazed at the various giant paintings hanging from the walls. There were some sculptures as well. All of the paintings depicted women as goddesses. Beautiful, sexy and in their prime. On the other hand the men were all depicted as decrepit, lying at the feet of the goddess/women like a dog or not pictured at all. Yeah, this thing was all about celebrating women and bashing men - androphopbia.
At one point the topless models are 'posing'. The women, all dressed like Venus; the man, dressed like a caveman - has a look like a dog begging for food starting at the woman like she's a - you guessed it - deity. To me this was all the equivalent of an academic experiece in the random school of life.
Today, I get the call from Gates at around 9:30 AM. He needs help with the geodesic dome that is being bulit behind the hot pink metaphysical bookstore that has just opened. I pull up on my bike and park it in the back, near the framework of the dome. Its exactly 1 PM. I call Steve to see what I can do and to express my awe at the size of this thing. It has a 36 foot diameter - yikes! Little do I know that we will be here till dark; an eight hour day. Putting this thing together is like 3D twister. geodesic domes are made up of triangles which in turn make up hexagons and pentagons.
I will not bore you with the details of this one but suffice to say - "its a monster" to quote Steve.
posted by Dij at 11:59 PM
2 waves:
The geodesic dome at Soul Centered is gigantic! I think it will surely become a somewhat-hidden gem of Ojai. We were wondering, however, where is the door? Does the frame go up in its entirety, and then part of is it removed for the door frame? We speculated that one might have to climb up the outside and slide down a firepole into the dome's innards.
Next time you're over there, Didj, check out Alison's art in the shop.
A couple poles will be removed for the doorway. I'd surmise that its location is yet to be determined. The inspector still has to inspect as well.
I certainly enjoy the idea of sliding down a center pole, that'd make for quite an entrance. A slide might be nice or climbing down a rope.
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