my stunning life

(photo by Marconi Calindas)

I've had this long-time fantasy. I'm doing a nite club act in which I come out in a tux & feather boa & sit on a piano & sing.

yes. my singing career was over when I outgrew performing as a "boy soprano."

but one still has dreams.

today my dream came to as close to coming true as it ever will. Terry Hastings -- one of the best art photographers in the valley -- invited me to come to our dear friend Marconi Calindas' studio. there Marconi has paintd an upright piano which will be on display at Palm Springs Pride. I got into my tux & a boa I had. the latter wasn't as snazzy as those Helen Morgan used. but we're talking magic here. I made my way on top of the gayly paintd upright. it was hot under the professional lamps. but even with sweat & skinny boa I felt every bit the star.

I don't know what Terry will make from our shoot. but I trust his talent. & I'm loving every minute of my late-in-life career as a model. all lives have ups & downs. I no longer dwell on the downs. & this latest up is one more page in a biography I wdn't trade with anyone.

(photo by Marconi Calindas)

morning rarity: coffee in bed. from that came a poem. & even after my mind jogs. sun on courtyard reminds me of the one I designd for Santa Fe. joining of indoors & out.

the universe is here.

from Joel Singer's Men of Letters series

"Woman with Pink Umbrella"

she ambles thru Park Guell
her mind on bread

she can feel crunch of crust 
of pa de pages
can taste a bit of sobrassada
in pa de Sant Jordi

which to buy

"life is short" 
she thinks

so buy both

RIP Don Cauble

Dave Roskos has announced the death of the poet.

I never met Don & our correspondence was slight. but our names have appeard together over the decades.

I think we first were together in the pages of Sattvas Review back in 1969. & in more recent years we both had broadsides publishd by Costmary Press & 48th St. Press.

on the website for his novel Don quotes me.

he once sent me a fun photo of himself with Doug Blazek but I can't find it now.

some shoes last

in the late "60s I bought Warhol's "Autobiography of Alice B. Shoe" from New Gallery in Cleveland. it was stolen while I still lived in Twin Lakes. I've long suspectd the thief. it was one of the small sorrows of that period of my life. but it carried thruout because every time I saw another copy of the print in a show I became sad that I was robbed of the joy of living with it.

this morning I was cleaning the dining room & moved my small collection of shoe lasts. it brought back feelings of that loss. but now I try to live in joy. so I decided to do a series with my feet & the lasts.

they are all self portraits except for the full body shot (featuring Gary Sielaff's piece done from one of the lasts in my collection) which Estee Huff kindly took.

art as a liferaft in difficult times

"I read the news today, o boy..."

it's been one of those mornings. the photograph of Stephen Romero celebrating his 6th birthday with a chocolate cupcake totally undid me. after the tears I wrote a poem for him. but then there were more tears.

so much bad news we become numb to it. but we daren't.

often what gets me thru is art. my mood brightend a bit when I learnd of "Teetertotter Wall."  this piece was done thru the border wall that separates a city in New Mexico with one in Old Mexico. to see children on both sides playing together for a moment erases smirks from faces of evil folks in our government.

& to help me thru I tried to switch my energy to creation. I was happy to have written a poem this morning. & I began thinking how rich creation makes my life. & for me it extends beyond my own writing & art pieces. I love collaborating with other artists.

recent work with Emeline Tate fed my soul. & then something I haven't reveald.

Terry Hastings is a photographer whose work I admire. he's doing a major piece calld "The Planets."  it will be unveild in a few months. he askd me to model the role of Saturn. 

he took several dozen remarkable photographs. only one of me will be in the final work. I don't know which one it will be. I askd Terry if he'd allow me to pick one to share here. I'm not saying this is the best or my favorite but I feel it conveys the sense of the piece as I understand it.

& so I won't allow the monster in the White House & the cowards in Congress to daunt me. we all must live with purpose. we must make joy out of chaos. it is our responsibility to live the lives denied to the children who die in his cages or from bullets.

faces & places

my work is often abt connections & overlapping because that's what so much of my life is.

today has been strangely emotional because currents from my past have swum by me. in the afternoon a Facebook friend who I don't know postd some photos he had taken of Coral Sands in Hollywood. I've written of this place before. it's had a long history & a couple of names but I knew it as a gay play spot. recently a rich person bought the property & closed it. it's been gutted. the photos I saw today were haunting. the walls are there but little else.  altho some deride the motel as simply seedy there is a rich history from Divine living there & holding court to art installations in rooms which even David Hockney visitd.

after thinking abt Coral Sands I decided to check on someone I met there in 2008. his name is Mikel Padilla -- a costume designer for movies & tv.  even tho we aren't in touch I thot I'd notify him of the photos. but when I lookd him up I discoverd he died a couple of months ago.

our time together was brief but I have a vivid memory of him in sleek black underwear. he's simply one of thousands of faces that pass us all by. but his name wd come to me whenever I rememberd Coral Sands.

this evening it's too hot to be out so I sit in my study writing. I'm thinking of Mikel Padilla & the address so many dismiss as a dive on Western Ave. this is what history is. faces & places. & the stories we tell abt them.

an anniversary

Stonewall Inn opend in 1967. it was one of the only gay bars in NYC which allowd dancing.

& dancing was what I did with Jean-Claude van Itallie when we went there in oct 1968. 8 months later the riots happend.

that bar was actually 2 pieces of property -- 51 & 53 Christopher St. it closed after the riots. then it was split. the bar which now calls itself Stonewall startd in 1991 at 53 Christopher. none of the original interior remains.

in my poem "Swimmers Out of Water" I reference dancing with Jean-Claude at Stonewall.

to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the uprising I was happy to participate in Stacey Brooks' "Tutu: A Year of Pride." he spent a year photographing men & women wearing rainbow tutus to commemorate this anniversary.

Hippodrome Theater (1959)

Lana Turner
at a premiere
in Cleveland
floats
on white ostrich feathers   

Walt's leaves

on the back cover of the anthology I'm so happy to be in -- Lovejets: queer male poets on 200 years of Walt Whitman -- is this quote from Richard Blanco:

“This wide and impressive range of poetry echoing the spirit of Walt Whitman and his literary forebears demonstrates the essential embrace of community that we’ve always needed to feel whole with ourselves and among others, especially now during these tumultuous times. Celebrating what had to be largely hidden from view during Whitman’s day, the living queer male poets who grace the pages trumpet a glorious and unforgettable spectacle of passion and compassion.” 

going thru photo files tonite I found this. it's Blanco reading his poem at the second Obama inauguration. I'd forgotten that for that moment I put my copy of Leaves of Grass beneath the streaming image.

a collaboration

a while ago I bought a small button piece by Emeline Tate at Janssen Art Space. then in my regular gallery going I met her. she came to my first book anniversary celebration. after that she suggestd a collaboration. this is what I wrote for her:

LINES FOR EMELINE

1

buttoning silence

lets words

come out to play

2

when white is witty

pink shrinks

3

let us know

how letters hurt

4

filling a square

with smiles

is

practice for paradise

5

a sloth got loose

in a library

& ate so many words

it shat poems

then she got to work using 3 of the little poems. & last nite they made their debuts on the Janssen walls.

(photo by Marconi Calindas)

I have always loved working with artists & photographers & choreographers & any other creative person who suggests such an adventure.

with the artist & a little piece she made for me

"Kiss My Glass"

Selen Korkut is a Facebook friend who lives in Istanbul. on her last visit to the States she went to Hollywood Forever where she kissd my glass. happily she took this photograph.

you can almost see her reflection but you can clearly see lip imprints. this thrills me.

when she messaged me abt it she told me that preparing one's burial spot before death was "odd for my part of the world." my response: "yes it's odd that my final resting place is already on view but since I paid for it I thot why not put stuff in it now & enjoy it before I move in."

having been able to stage my niche has been comforting. I know that someday my physical remains will share eternal space with some of my literary remains. also I'm delightd that the Century Dimes are there for forever. that piece was literally touchd by so many loved ones over its decade. so it's as if the DNA of some of my favorite people will be with me forever.

& then the artist in me is happy that I've turnd this whole thing into an enduring art work. I've already heard from 2 strangers who love it. & apparently the imprint of lips has indeed begun. how special that I'm still here to appreciate the response.

"Femme Fatale"

in 2011 a Dutch documentary filmmaker interviewd me abt Jetta Goudal. we were in the backyard of my friend Billy Berger in Culver City.  I often wonderd what became of that. I was searching for something else today & found this clip for "Diva."

later I did some more searching & discoverd the entire film online but with the title "The Woman Nobody Knows."

the director is Erik Brouwer. working the camera is his wife Do.

loyalty

sooooooo.... I went to an opening last nite. one of the artists showing— whose openings I always attend — came up to me & sd he was sorry to miss my event. I lookd at him sternly   put my finger on his nose & sd “shame on you.” he was so startled he cdn’t speak.

I’m too old to be polite.

video

here is my reading/unveiling

my special nite

with Marconi Calindas & his portrait of me

Easter memories

I disdain religions. most holidays have roots in them. or in commerce. so I have a complicated relationship to holidays.

I was born on Easter but have no memory of that.  I do remember one year Mom making a bonnet when she & her gal pals went to Cleveland for a tv show. she took a plastic plate & affixd to it a candy bar of the day which had the name of some food. something like "Cold Turkey." & then there was the magical time my folks hid hand-paintd plaster of paris Disney characters around the house for me to hunt. how I wish I still had those.

both of my parents loved to celebrate. every holiday was a chance for Mom to eat & for Dad to drink. & for both to share. for today's holiday I have fond memories of them making Easter cheese. I can still see the ball forming in cheesecloth hanging from a door knob & dripping into a big pot.

have I already recorded this somewhere? when you're as old as I & have written as much one forgets. my reason for putting any of this down is that it brings me close to my parents. they both adored holidays. I have both glad & sad memories of such.

I woke this morning with this image in mind & it's one which will carry me thru the day.

I refuse

to allow this april to be a cruel month. because for me it's a triumph. my first book was publishd 50 years ago this month.

Into the Sea was publishd by Abraxas Press in an edition of  200 copies. I don't know how many survive but several are in important library collections.

I never expectd to live as long as I have. & so many of my contemporaries are dead. so this is quite the milestone.  most of my peers have workd the poetry fields for decades without much notice. but something is happening for me this month that's quite frankly a thrill.

on wed 24 april Marconi Gallery in Palm Springs will celebrate me from 5-8 pm. there will be a give-away of some of my out of print books. & at 6 I'll read a sampling of my work. then I'll unveil a portrait of me by Marconi Calindas.

most seeing this are too far away to join me but I'll be reading to you nonetheless. a half century of books is something.

Disneyland

my friend Bob is visiting for a week. among his addictions is this place. I've never been. so I joind him for a trip there. we spent 12 hours. fun but exhausting.

"End of the World Project"

so happy to have work in this anthology
because it's important
& because I share its pages
with so many good writers

last year was hard to beat

but already this year looks like another milestone one for me.

it's the 50th anniversary of publication of my first book

plus the forthcoming publication of the first 30 years of Alex in Movieland (Crisis Chronicles Press).

& this morning I got notice of the upcoming publication of Lovejets which includes my work with poems by an amazing group of gay male poets honoring Walt Whitman.

it astounds me that I'm still here & still producing work & still dancing naked whenever I get the chance.

another doc

old friends Todd Hughes & P. David Ebersole are editing their Pierre Cardin documentary. but they've also begun filming the next. & that subject -- Trini Lopez -- did an interview & mini-concert in town last nite for the cameras.

at 4:57 a.m.

the late David Meredith appeard unexpectdly in my dream & I immediately woke up.

"I am the Night"

is a mini-series which debuts tonite on TNT. however it actually debutd last nite. I know. I'm confused too. yesterday was that rare day when I felt chaind to the tv.  but when I discoverd TNT was screening a "preview" of the mini-series I added it to my hours before the small screen. I did so because the show is partly abt the Black Dahlia case.

anyone who knows me knows of my interest in true crime. & my particular passion for this case. so it's seepd into my work. my pal Todd Moore encouraged me to make Elizabeth Short work for me as Dillinger did for him. but I've never been ready to become that immersed.

last nite I was able to watch only the first hour. there was no mention of Short. there were 2 different stories which I knew wd merge & eventually involve the case. one story was abt a supposedly interracial child. it was so ordinary it was boring. the other was abt an old school journalist. it was pretty cliche as well but had the advantage of being playd by Chris Pine who is so watchable.

I know enuf abt the case that I bet I can predict where this is going. if I decide to follow it thru it will be less abt the case & more abt Pine's appeal.

anyway....... if you don't know I do have a small chapbook abt Elizabeth Short. 

Green Panda Press publishd it in an edition of 40 copies a decade ago. it's already a collector's item.

to observe the 70th anniversary of Short's murder Green Panda brought out a second printing in 2017.

wonderful visit

Regina left this morning after 5 days of gourmet meals & museums & shopping & films. we also visitd Marconi Calindas in studio.

Palm Springs International Film Festival

before the awards presentation began at opening nite gala I was walking among tables when I spottd Dale Chihuly. no one else was at his table so I askd if I cd chat with him & he agreed. I told him that years ago (when I later lookd it up it was 38) I'd seen him blow a piece of glass when he was in residence at Kent State.

"don't do that anymore" he sd.  "but let people know I did."

he askd if I knew Henry Halem. so I told him the story of buying a piece of Henry's for Mom years ago & that it's now in the collection at Allen Memorial Art Museum. he askd me to give Henry his good wishes.

we took the obligatory photo & then I was off to my table for the show.

Studio 54

old friends Todd & David had a disco party

portrait

for holiday card I'm not mailing

A Plenitude of Pennies

I was naked & sweating in the sauna at World Gym (same one in which I wrote "Sauna Poem" & "Poetry Inferno"). my fingers slid across hot wood & felt something. no. it's not that kind of story. what I felt turnd out to be a penny.

suddenly that hot copper was a madeleine as I became flush with memories of all the pieces I've done featuring this lowliest of coins.

I began "Pennies from Heaven" at the end of 2000 & finishd it in summer of 2011. there were 120 coins in that piece. it's "sequel" was "Pennies from Heaven: Part 2 (The Leaving)." it was done from 2010 until 2014.

"The 1943 Pennies" was a little work from 2003-04.

more recently I collaboratd with Tyler Alpern on a penny piece a bit too naughty to share here.

finding this morning's penny also made me remember I had a baggie full of coins I'd found & labeld. I decided it was time to conceive a work which wd distribute those.

my initial notion was to list the origin of those pennies. then to mail each to someone whose name supplements the list. but that seemd merely a variant of "Matchless."

so I go to bed knowing I need to stretch. & also that this morning's coin -- which I now call "the sauna penny" -- shd not be used in the new project but kept as a talesmanic muse with a possible future as yet another work.

29 nov 18:PS

_________________________________________________________

over the weekend I put on for the first time the CD I bought a few weeks ago from Linda Lavin. I opend the baggie of saved pennies. one by one I took out a coin & "unwrapped" it. I then put each penny with its original notation into a tiny baggie.

this process turnd out to be a major memory trip. the collection mostly reflectd my day-to-day life in Santa Fe. pennies pickd up in various locker rooms & store parking lots. but there were also many found at airports which in turn included ones from vacations. gay resorts such as Inn Exile in Palm Springs & Blue Moon in Las Vegas & Coral Sands in Hollywood & Alcazar in Fort Lauderdale were spots holding pennies for me to gather.

because the work was surprising tedious I did it over several days. I now have that original baggie full of 68 tiny baggies. what to do next will take time to ponder. I have some ideas but will wait for the new year to complete this.

4 dec 18:PS

festival of lights

went to Riverside last nite with friends. it was cold. & there were too many people.

the morning I wrote 2 poems

I was sitting beside a pool with a notepad
when I wrote this:

when I face a blank page
I feel a need
to search that place
within me
that collects every word
I've ever read

I need to scoop
into that trove
to find a combination
never seen before
to spread
across the page

& when I'm finishd
I turn the page
to find
another blank one

my work
is never done

pause while I walk to another pool 
& discover another poem:

after writing a poem
I treat myself
to a trip
to the tangerine tree

it's so beautiful
I don't know
which fruit to pick
but the one I do
makes me want
to write another poem

levy left us 50 years ago today

remembrance

last nite Linda Lavin playd the Purple Room.  at 81 she's pitch perfect & put on a show so much better than my expectations. she was backd by the best musicians -- starting with her musical director Billy Strich on piano. he's a cabaret legend & the valley is grateful to have him leave NY so often to perform here.

but there was yet another treat. at the beginning of the show & then again at the end a young man with a violin & almost a smile performd. I confess to having never heard of Aaron Weinstein. but now I'll be checking his progress. he plays his instrument with skill. & his bit of patter was a sweet throwback to vaudeville.

when the show was over I saw him in the lobby & nearly rushd to get to him. after praising  him on his performance he complimentd me on wearing an ascot. "not everyone can pull off an ascot" he sd looking me straight in my eyes. I meltd. there were other words abt this & that & then I was off into the dark.

but as I was enjoying tea on the patio in morning sun he wdn't leave my mind. there was something abt Aaron Weinstein that brought back an era of my past. when I was the age he is now I visitd Manhattan with regularity & panache. there were the Broadway shows & boy bars & museums & bookstores & concerts.  endless cocktails & cruising. flirting with waiters & chance encounters with chorus boys. lads who with a wink & a word had you out of yr pants.

& there was a kind of young man that enchantd me. I suspect my "type" -- if indeed I had one -- was the California surfer boy. a bundle of blondness & lithe body that requests licking. but often after the rush of sex there wasn't much more to do. but the guys that really got to me were the NY charmers. most didn't start out in Manhattan but once they claimd that real estate there was a stamp on them. rarely surfer boy beautiful but a package of wit & charm & accomplishment that beggd you return to them long after you entangled yrself from their sheets.

of course I miss the fervor of that moment. but I had it. I was a part of the whirl. so many of those young men are forever in my heart. & I hope that somewhere there's a not so young man sitting on a patio who remembers the me that was.

so thank you Aaron Weinstein. for what happend on stage & in the lobby. not often is a time machine so attractive.

(photo by Dennis De Groot)

changes

a friend took this from his moving car. my billboard has been altered. why they put me in sunglasses & a chain with money in my hands is baffling. but I'm still there. I guess that's show biz.

Palm Springs Pride Parade

the float for the famous LA show "Best in Drag" featured Chico's Angels with a group of calendar men. on the right are Remy Cruze & Devin Franco.  on the left Trenton Ducati is hidden behind S_H_A_M_O.

40 years ago

the art faculty at Kent State University had its annual show. in a small adjacent space was a modest one-person exhibition. as I recall there were only abt 5 pieces. they were weavings by Lilian Tyrell. she wasn't on the faculty but her husband -- British sculptor Brinsley Tyrrell -- was.

I was taken by a piece calld "Tornado" & bought it for $300. it was not only the single sale from her first show but her first sale ever. I've lived with & loved this piece all these years. I loand it back to Lilian for an exhibition in 1980 & also her retrospective in 2006.

at a lecture abt her work Lilian acknowledged that the piece was a precursor to the work that made her famous -- the Disaster Blankets.

it was easy to love Lilian. she was a sweet woman with an appealing laugh. altho she had strong opinions which she didn't mind sharing she was never mean.

I returnd to Kent in the summer of 2007. a friend had a party for me. Lilian was quite ill but so wantd to see me that she came to the party. as she & Brinsley were leaving I walkd them out. Lilian coillapsed in the drive-way. Brinsley helpd her up as if it were nothing & I tried not to cry as I sd good-bye. I was so honord that she made the effort to see me. she died 4 months later.

Khashoggi's Fingers

in this world
led by liars
we look to writers
to tell us
where we are

even in death
this man
lifts his bloody hands

his fingers
fill the sky
with lasers
that sear
gloat of prince
bloat of president

Khashoggi's fingers
light the way
to truth

stop the rallies

the "president" is opposed by two thirds of the citizenry & the majority of editorial boards. his ego is tender. he must go to his base for these events at which he spews lies & rants like Hitler.

these events aren't to present policy. they are purely ego massage. I've been told each one costs nearly a half million dollars to put on. if reports are correct some in the crowd are paid.

there is no reason for taxpayers to put up with this. clearly these are political events. they must be paid for by the Republican party. if Congress weren't controlld by that party they cd stop payment. here is another reason to vote blue next month. it's time to halt the madness.

on the rocks

wearing Sondheim
at Cahuilla Teewwenet Vista Point

(photo by Estee Huff)

"Unfolding Humanity"

a Burning Man project transferd to Balboa Park in San Diego for Maker Faire