I was painting madly in a beautiful art studio downtown in Sacramento's Lavender Heights. It was a happy time, a lot of people were out and about buying art and just having fun especially on Second Saturday. Dan and I renovated my studio with new paint, great lighting and bamboo floors. I not only painted there, but did indoor studio photography for my favorite clientele. The studio was on 21st and K, an artists community type space, and it was extremely motivating to be in the midst of all that energy. Em was a year or two old, and I finally had the time and space to make work that I was proud of.
I created a series of abstract paintings and wanted to show them somewhere outside of my studio, in a sexier environment with low lights and a more diversified audience. A close friend and fellow artist had a beautiful showing at the Momo Lounge above Harlow’s so I met with the owner and arranged a show there myself. I had enough new pieces to fill two giant rooms, but there was an extra room and a hall that needed coverage. I didn’t want to pull any of my old work out, as it didn’t look anything like the new work, it was more figurative, and I was doing shiny abstracts so instead of letting the owner put other artists there I told her I had another artist in mind to show with and we set a date. My friend, Gayla, had a lot of abstract work she had been creating during the same time, but her pieces were small. When we examined the space and hung her work together we realized she had sold too many pieces to cover both the room and the hall. She filled the room beautifully, but covering the long hallway between our two exhibits was going to be a problem. Gayla and I agreed Helmet had 5 lovely, well framed, erotic, mirror collages ready for show. We both admired her work, it was professional and clean, and interesting. Alissa was her model in this series, and she was an Amazon goddess, tied up and twisted, 6 foot, tall and beautiful. The pieces would be a great addition to break up the monotony of our pure abstract rooms. Helmet agreed to show with us and we made expensive high grade flyers and the Momo Lounge assisted with the distribution and promotion. We were all really excited. I had a few hundred extra flyers and dropped some off with Gayla and some with Helmet to give to their friends and promote the show. They were exquisite glossy cardstock with one image of each of the artists on both sides and the postcards were large, 6x9. I designed them, they were perfect. I dropped Helmet’s postcards off in person, she lived in my grannie house. She had company over at the time, her friend, Shawn and his girlfriend, Amanda. Shawn and Amanda were very cool, I liked both of them. I even shot their wedding, 10 years later at Raley Field, but no matter, at this time I was just getting to know them. Shawn was a talented wordsmith and rapper, and his brother was a trained, successful fine artist, so he was familiar with the arts in general. “Wow, I really like this piece.” Shawn pointed to one of Gayla’s abstract pieces, one that was very powerful, rolling hills of red, orange and yellow. I remember his rap album cover was abstracted fire, so he must have really liked those colors. “Her work is not that great.” was Helmet’s reply. We all just ignored her negativity, because art is subjective. Helmet was entitled to her opinion. Gayla was self taught. Her father was also a self taught painter, and drummer, doing both for over 50 years. His work is fantastic. Gayla’s mother was a food artist and cake decorator. Gayla had a natural inclination for color manipulation and she understood design. Her art at that time was a fun hobby. She did attend school for interior design, a few years later, but she thinks the formal education ruined her playfulness. None of that mattered, because Shawn liked the piece. “You should buy it,” I am forever a curator. “Gayla sells her work dirt cheap. Offer her a hundred bucks and it’s yours, no matter what the price on the wall says [$200].” Shawn nodded and put the flyer away. He said he was definitely looking forward to the show. The show went wonderfully. I talked a rich man from Texas that just come to California to purchase a vineyard out of buying one of my pieces. He literally had his credit card in his hand and said, “$1500, that’s all?” and I told him to go home and think on it, because as easy as it was to sell other people’s art, I hated selling mine. They’re my babies. Texas was too far, what if he was a weirdo? I sold the same piece to someone near Auburn for half the price 3 years later so I could visit it if I needed to. I know, I’m pathetic. Gayla’s show was interesting as well. She had pool tables in her room, so there was a lot of action happening. Her son and boyfriend, now husband, were very proud of her. They sat on a bench smiling and watching her schmooze the crowd. Gayla wasn’t emotionally attached to her pieces, she enjoyed the process of making them. Someone purchased “Dragonskin,” a beautiful multicolored abstract with a technique she created by layering and ripping off the top darkened layer to expose underparts of vibrant color. Shawn and Amanda came with Helmet. Shawn went right to the piece he liked from the flyer. “I love this one,” “Don’t look at that shit, the colors are ugly. Let me show you my work,” Gayla’s boyfriend and son were sitting on a bench directly under the painting. They were appalled. When Gayla asked what was the matter with them, they didn’t want to tell her and ruin the good vibe, but they had to tell her later. There was an after party following the show at a friend’s home downtown. I invited Helmet, Alissa, Shawn and Amanda and took off to continue merry making. I had already left but a woman was inquiring about the collages. She was enamored by Helmet's work, but Helmet wasn’t able to close the deal. Alissa joked with Helmet offhandedly, saying maybe she wanted a little “Sumpin’ sumpin." Helmet took off in a rage, angry at Alissa. Helmet left with the after party address. She didn’t share the information. If she was not happy, everyone would suffer. I was disappointed I didn’t see their crew at the party, I really wanted to hang out with them, everyone except for Helmet. Gayla wasn’t happy with Helmet. She came to visit me shortly after the show and was chatting with Dan’s cousin, J.R., in the driveway who had recently moved in with us and was planning to mow the front yard. I went to get gas for the lawnmower, and as I was pulling out, Helmet was pulling in. Gayla’s mom, Marsha, who was there also, didn’t look happy to see Helmet. Gayla had her arms crossed and I watched her face darken. I thought about staying just in case things got ugly, we all knew about the Helmet Gayla burn by that time, but I’m not really a fan of drama or fighting (surprised?) so I just continued to go around the corner to the gas station. I knew Gayla could take Helmet, even though Helmet was pretty manly. J.R. was famous for running away when Dan got jumped by 3 dudes in the hood, when they were children, but Marsha could take them all. Marsha had bitten the nipple off of her brother-in-law when he grabbed her and had beaten another man’s ass for attempting to grab her grandson. I knew Gay was covered. The first thing I saw when I returned was J.R.’s evil grin. I knew he had witnessed something juicy. Gay told me Helmet had addressed her in a friendly matter but that Gayla had ignored her; it was better to say nothing than what she actually wanted to say. Helmet accused Gayla of being rude, and Gayla explained to her that she was angered by Helmet’s unprofessional behavior at the art showing. “If you can’t handle criticism, don’t try to be an artist,” was Helmet’s rebuttal. Gayla explained to Helmet that there is a huge difference between a criticism between artists in privacy and to a potential customer in the middle of an exhibit, in front of Gayla’s friends and family. Helmet didn’t see the difference, and left in a hurry. Though Gay said she wanted to punch Helmet, she didn’t see the need for violence, to the dismay of both J.R. and Marsha. Gayla and Helmet were no longer on good terms, Dan despised Helmet since the hit-and-run BS she did on his work van (Helmet saga part IV) but she still lived on my property in the back house and I just tried to ignore her. One evening I was sad and drinking WAY TOO MUCH wine in the hot tub, which was located between my house and the grannie house. I was crying and confiding in my friend, Jackie, about a rude offhand comment Dan had made about my after baby body. He won’t remember, he was also drinking when he said it a week before, and I was extremely overly sensitive and it may have been true. Three bottles of wine down and a couple beers in at this point, Jackie and I were happily interrupted by Helmet and Alissa returning from wherever to hang out at Helmet’s. They came to chat at the hot tub where Jackie and I were stuck and very drunk. We invited them in, but they just stood talking to us, being normal. I had already drank the beer in my hand, it was an empty bottle and it went under the water a few times and filled a bit with hot tub water. Helmet said something silly, and I sprayed a little of the water on her. It wasn’t nice, but in my defense, I was actually imagining I was playing the original version of the Sims video game, when they splash water on people in the hot tub. Either the person gets a minus over their head or a plus depending on their personality. Alissa got a plus, plus, plus because she started laughing and hung out for almost a half hour. We visited and blabbed for a long time. Thank goodness I was done crying and the sensitive me had slipped deep back into my psyche. It was a beautiful summer night in Sacramento, a little water was nothing. Helmet acted like I had splashed hydrochloric acid on her face, and she ran screaming into her house. She didn’t come out again that evening. A few days later I was accused by Helmet’s mother of throwing a beer at her. I was so drunk, that I felt terrible that I did that. What was my crazy ass thinking? I immediately went to apologize in person but she wasn’t home. I knew something was off, because my fuzzy memory recalled just splashing water at her from the beer bottle, so I called Jackie, but she was not a good witness. Jackie said, “Screw her, she deserves it.” Apparently Jackie had knocked on Helmet’s door a week or two earlier to say hello and to give Helmet a present but Helmet answered the door sweaty and angry; said she was busy and basically told Jackie to kick rocks. She may have been using her machine (Helmet saga part III). When Helmet returned I asked her to forgive my rude behavior. I let her berate me for throwing a beer at her and let it go, but I had a funny feeling there was some hidden truth. I remembered pretending to play the Sims in my inebriated state. When I saw Alissa next she confirmed that I did not throw a beer, any beer, and that I had merely splashed both Alissa and Helmet with water in a playful way. I got both of them a tiny bit wet. She said Helmet had over reacted and was ridiculous, telling everyone at her work (a photography studio where I worked for a very brief time) that I had thrown a beer at her, full bottle and hit her with it for no good reason. Wow, I’m mean. By this point I was wishing I had. The next time I saw Helmet I asked why she had led me to believe I had thrown a beer at her when I had merely splashed her with water, and she didn’t know. She didn’t know much, but when she moved out shortly after no one was sad. I wish I could say this was the end of the Helmet stories but there are more. The best and worst is yet to come. To be continued, because I’m trying to keep these short, but it’s near impossible, there’s so much stuck in my brain, I need to exorcise this bad boy. Part VI -- Pinche Puta, Frying Mickey Mouse, Angry Dance in the Woods Part VII -- 2 Steps, The Great Helmet Heist x 2
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