Here I am tucked behind Rodin's sculpture " L'homme qui Marche," in a place I once held dear. This is the Franklin Murphy Sculpture Garden at my alma mater, UCLA. On a recent trip to California, I wanted to show friends the site where I used to hang out.
This garden, started in 1967, is named after the university chancellor of that time, which was when I transferred to this school. My diploma hangs on my wall, signed by the then governor, Ronald Reagan. Covering five acres of grass and trees, there are more than 70 sculptures by world known artists. I had never been able to lay my hands on a Henry Moore before then. The library, art, and history buildings were all up in that area.This was where I spent a lot of my time.
There is still an outdoor eating terrace, with tables and chairs to while away endless hours. Called the Gypsy Wagon when I went to school, formerly there were trailers that served the junk food, the coffee, we all needed to be better students. Plus it was a fun place to practice Flirting 101.The tables are still there, but today the food is in vending machines.How can you get your french fires from a vending machine?
You could take your food up to the gardens and lie on the grass, or sit on the low cement walls. The design of the garden is a piece of work unto itself.
I remember a sense of awe and excitement to see in person what I had only viewed previously in my art books. Even today, it is a respite of peace in a busy place. It is on campus, but open to the public. A worthwhile visit.
It is that time of year again, the Sedona Film Festival happening in my hometown. Here I am in my shirt from years past.
This is their 20th anniversary.
I have been here all those years. I used to volunteer dating back to the days when we only got to preview the movies at 8 am. Now that is true love of film and a limited budget! I kind of miss the good old days when I worked together with all my buddies.Things change. Now I pay my money and stand in line with all the other film aficionados.I have seen four performances thus far. Only Le Weekend impressed me. Film as an interpretation of life, or why do people hurt the ones they love? Sadly, I see that often enough around me.
Film is such an interesting art. I dabbled in theater at Northwestern. I graduated from UCLA, located in the land of film. Living in Venice Beach for many years, I always saw stars, or lived next door to them. But we were cool, so we ignored them. Much as I take a lump of clay and transform it into my piece of fantasy, so can these actors take us with them to another place. Film, yet another creative art form.
