CRog

finalmente, originally uploaded by ChristineRenee.net.

It was two years ago yesterday that I flew from NY to LA for no good reason, except that I needed a break from the city and that Alex had a dream, in Paris, that I needed to leave NY and go specifically to LA.

So I began to make it happen. On an unseasonably warm but slightly damn NY January night, i was introduced to LA’s John Hollywood at a dark and almost empty bar. Spencer and Ben were djing and the audience consisted of  myself, Gabi, Matt Weapons, Thomas B and John Hollywood.

I told John I was thinking of going to LA for a vacation, and he said if I did I could say at his apt. One year later this stranger from LA LA LAnd would be one of the only two witnesses to my marriage with Alex.

It was with his blessing and accommodations that I booked my flight to travel to a place I never really liked, but that seemed okay because I knew LA had sun.

I stayed one night and drove to San D the next day to met Hugh Herrera.

Now I’ve told this story a hundred times, but last night Hugh and I hung out and played music together again for the first time in a loooong time, and the memories are flooding. Coincidentally its been raining in LA for the last five days and the streets are flooding, too.

So its raining and I’m doing a little clean up and I came across something I wrote back then, about doing drugs and being on this adventure away from NY. I sound so different, even to myself, I’ve changed… but my vision for the disco hotel has not. The dream seems renewed all over again, running two years strong.

I made a promise to everyone and to myself to create a place of refuge for the disco family. The hotel will happen and is happening.

So I propose a toast, Happy Anniversary! Raise a glass of master cleanser in honor of your dreams.

Love,
from the number one dreamer

Finally I am in a town that knows how to celebrate this very important day each year where upon people of (almost) all nationalities join hands and drink margaritas and dance and very few of them know why.

i looked it up: (“The Fifth of May” in Spanish) is a national, but not federal, holiday in Mexico which is also widely celebrated in the United States. It commemorates the victory of Mexican forces led by General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín over the French occupational forces in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. Battle of Puebla

So basically, its a day to get fucked up and say, “Fuck the French!”

Jogging to México III, originally uploaded by ChristineRenee.net.

And every year I was in New York I ran around with friends from california and texas looking for a truly Mexican restaurant, which is hard in a place who’s Spanish speaking population is mostly Puerto Rican and Dominican looking for a place I could sing WAR’s Cinco de Mayo with out getting weird and hostile looks from people.

Today is that day! Viva LA, Holmes!!!

Indian of Samayac, originally uploaded by ChristineRenee.net.

Amazing piece left on our car this morning. Note the side in English is illustrated by a Roman warrior Angel. But when you flip it…

the spanish version uses Don-Pedro-Mexican-Marlboro-Man as the mascot. Cowboy hat, big bigote and ciggy in hand.

Yesterday Yester-a-day. I’m finding out, there aren’t too many grey days in LA. But yesterday was one of ‘em.

Funny i was in New York for six years, not a lot of sun there and who can really say what was causing it, but I felt like my head was going to explode from the force of thoughts running around saying, “pay attention to me!” I didn’t know which one to start with.

I ran out of my room and grabbed Mirko. I’m going crazy!!! He said in his broken ital-english, “yes-aha, eat isa da tyme.”

truth is for me, this needs no further explanation, but our house guest Jimmy, an American fresh back form a year in Italy, explained:

“In Italian you say this to describe the weather, as in it is the natural time, or cycle of the earth. It is normal you feel this way on such an overcast day.”

Melie called. She’s in Austin. She said after I explained my mood, “Well, at least its sunny!”

she wrote this to our friend hugh about her A-town visit thus far…

“got word that my sis-n-law having contractions,
while The The was playing”this is the day your life
will surely change”. driving mom’s 60’s carmengia
convertible maria gia around town in the sunshine.
took a long walk with my grandma for dinner the air
was thick with the scent of chinaberry and
honeysuckle.
exceeding bliss.“

That makes my grey days bright again. Yum!

I picked Alex up from work driving through my normal route down central ave. and up into downtown. Everyday on this path I see the homeless. You can’t imagine. Exactly because it is sunny most of the time in LA, everyone comes here. I mean where would you rather be homeless? Chicago? New York?

this man has an asthma inhaler in one hand and a cig in the other

the scene:

There was a blond couple walking together, the woman’s arm around her man, hair matted almost to dreads, black, tuff, biker clothes covered in dirt.

She is skipping and has a BIG smile on her face. She sees a friend on the corner. He’s all in black too except he has an American flag bandanna tied over his hair, a yellow white mustache and well groomed beard. frame his smiling.

She skips toward him  and jumps on him, he catches her by the waist and spins her around, her legs up in the air twirling, her arms around his neck. It looks like its been a loooong time. An old lover?

She introduces the man she was walking with moments before. The hit each others fists together. Two gentleman brought together by this woman. She probably loves them both.

The greyness of the day made for an impending sunset: surreal, vibrant, pink here and there against a thick foam grey.

I got Alex and we went to this little restaurant in South Central called El Delfín.

Every since almost two years a go now Michael aka Mama told us at Mika’s Japanese New Years party that Dolphins like to have sex with humans, its become a strange mascot of the animal love in all of us for me and alex.

So we’re in a booth at the Delfín. There’s one other couple in there and a waitress with a very forced but sweet smile, big smoochie lips covered in orange-red lipstick, everything she says is a question, and when she’s said something she tilts her head slightly. We order two beers.

Mexican soap operas are on the TV. Alex puts his arm around me and we lend back and chill. I feel like we’re in the south central version of an American dinner circa 1950’s and I’m 16. it was awesome.

peanut-butter-wolf (or Senz!)

One more round and he takes me to work at the Standard Downtown. Its packed as I’ve never seen it. Peanut-butter Woolf is playing the roof.

I was glad to have the people. I played slow, head-bouncing disco and the people dug it. I stole a beer and tequila shot from an Iranian gentleman thinking it was mine. He was glad to let me have it.

A stripper entertaining some rather nervous men in front of me asked me to dance with her for their viewing pleasure. i told her she had to do something for me first. She walked off, kinda pissed. ; )

And I met this surfer guy who imports Mezcal, my favorite spirit that -of course- hails from Oaxaca, future site of my disco hotel.

So I guess when the sun fails you, the moon fills in.

p.s. I’d like to thank BawBag for the sun he sends from Scotland. Thanks for your positivity man!

I did some research on cool ecolodges/luxury hotels around the world today.

Here’s some I liked as influences for the disco-surf hotel:

Hotelito Desconocito

Finca Rosa Blanca

Verana

Pakaas

Longitude 131

at PS1 2005 photo by Sean Combs

I spent some time in Venice today with Harvey.

I didn’t have my camera with me, but imagine this: I walked up to his apartment and he was wearing a safari colored long sleeved collar shirt with dark blue jeans, tan cowboy boots, his hair was down, he was playing a blond telecaster and had these amazing rose tinted square framed glasses on the kind you’d buy in mass from China.

As soon as we made eye contact we broke into laughter. Of course. I get it. Rose, Rose, Rose!

There were sparkly things on his guitar strap ad we watched the sunlight play off them reflecting lights on the ceiling, DISCO! We laughed.

He continued to play atmospheric one noted song-scapes through a wha0wha and an echo box. i was inspired to do yoga. We caught ourselves again, third eye perspective and we laughed.

Santa Monica two Sundays ago

Onward down to the beach. Today was a beautiful day for surf. We walked barefoot in the sand down to a place just north of the Venice pier. Because we were able to stand behind the break you could perfectly see from the side the 4ft ramps the water caused and gave to the young hot shots on short boards enjoying the break.

On the way back we watched a sunset that reminded me of California t-shirts from the 80s. I cried.

Hugh in San Felipe exactly one year ago. Photos here

Its officially the one year anniversary of the time I came to LA in 2006 and ended up in San Felipe with Hugh Herrera watching the Sea of Cortes change colors. We help from the reserves behind the mask above the fireplace, we saw the changes.

That is the moment everything made sense, I must move on… out of New York. Hugh eneded up kicking the habbits and becoming a yogi.

I’ve consciously or not spent the last year doing some hard core physical research and changing physically: getting younger and spreading the seeds of the dream over three contents and in at least six countries.

I thought I’d be building my place by now, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in 12 months, its that all things come to those who wait good. This is the lesson Lady LA wants us to earn.

ChickenPollo, originally uploaded by Christine Renee.net.

okay, in Guatemala I got this CD at the market called “el pollo, el lord” and on it is a track called Disco Pollo, complete with a sample of a rooster, and its really quite good.

i got inspired to make a video for the song after running into this place in Palanco, DF. This is the hood were Olga lives and its pretty posh here. The president’s house is a ten minute walk away from hers, for example, and therefore it is VERY different from other parts of DF. To be honest, I love it, but then i’ve always preferred Ft. Greene to WIllamsburg, savvy?

So today we pass CHICKEN–POLLO and there is a HUGE line of workers (or trabajadores) in beautiful paint splattered clothes and dust covered faces, some with hats, some with dust masks… there was about 50 of these hard working ‘artists’ waiting at this spot for tortillas and chicken cause that’s all they sell at CHICKEN–POLLO.

There are two other chicken spots on the block but NO ONE is there, so this is THE spot. Plus!!! the tortilla press makes this awful screeching noise that would be a perfect noise to run under a video for the song.

So i thought Olga and I should dress in aerobic chicken costumes, and just show up and dance around the trabajadores giving everyone a rose. Then we would proceed to draw in chalk the outline of a rectangle on the side walk, inside the line, which is more like a circle, of trabajadores.

then for the song’s break, olga and I would square off to each other as though we were about to have a chicken fight. We would proceed to fight each other by doing elaborate yoga poses. I forgot to mention Alex is wearing a white suit and dancing stationary while holding a large disco ball.

it ends simply wit us leaving the scene. I don’t have enough time to do it this trip, but NEXT time.

One thing, I haven’t felt this light, free and inspired since I was in high school. Mexico is a really special place and Mexicans are really special people.

Masks for Astrology, originally uploaded by Christine Renee.net.

Olga is working with Michel Blancsube (the guy pointing to the masks) to document all shows held at the Jumex factory. So we drove out for what seemed forever, in hot, smoggie, DF traffic to do some filming before the opening next Saturday. It was quite a privilege to be taken through the show by the curator as he, of course, was able to provide sooo much insight into the pieces and their positioning in the show.

We also were taken to one of the storage rooms and saw some of the pieces NOT in the show. Its an amazing collection. And Michel’s assembly and choices in the show were optimistic and fun, telling a story they made you look deeper. It moved me to be excited about the power of industry behind art again.

This is the beginning. I’ve traveled for over two months now. It was my great escape from the New York summer, and my chance to investigate location options for the hotel.

But my first instincts were right. Costa Rica is now called “Costafornia.” Nicaragua held some possibilities, but it wasn’t right.

The answer is and always has been México, and Oaxaca, land of chocolate, coffee, mescal, tequila, mole, and the birthplace of TACOS!!!! Obviously is the PERFECT place for the hotel. Think disco, retirement, escape, surf, yoga, sun, health and your family of friends.

I’m in Puerto Escondido, aka the “Hidden Port” on the coast of Oaxaca. It hosts the Méxican pipeline’s best waves and recently a RipCurl surf competition.

I thought P.E. would be over run by surfer dudes or destroyed by cutout hotels, I was wrong.

Women balance the “surf dudes” in numbers and any successful party needs beautiful women, as does a successful hotel hotspot. I haven’t seen this many ladies in a surf spot in all of my traveling!

Everyone here is beautifully browned by the sun and strong by the waves. People walk the strip with beach smiles on their faces. There are also a healthy variety of nations here: Americans, Brazilians, Méxicans, French, Italians, UK peoples…

Also, the surf here has a reputation of being REALLY dangerous. You have to be careful, but at this time of year, the surf is very inviting. At certain points in the day the waves are big and fast breaking. But swimming out there isn’t that hard. They build long and gradually and you can just glide over the tops out to the break, unlike the waves in Nicaragua that require supper skills just to get out there.

And its not just skills you need to surf, remember the guy who got a gun pulled on him in Popoyo? I realized that the perfect place for the hotel isn’t going to be in one of these off-the-beaten-track places aka ghettos with perfect waves.

As much as I believe in the underground, I want the hotel to provide more than challenging waves. There needs to be a variety of people, quality beds and bedding, hot water, good eats and music you can loose yourself in, in short, your Méxican home.

This is why Puerto E is perfect, we can come here and drink a cocktail under a beach bum umbrella, flirt with surfing or not, and at night the hotel will provide the best disco haven for mmmmmiles around. I can’t wait!!!

For all to become young by the sun and much love,
Christine Renée

p.s. a random video note sent by Mr. Ronney from across the atlantic. its cosmic!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BChlUBhgZEY&search=yellow%20magic%

It’s been two months and three days since i left New York, slowly working my way up through Central America toward a country I love, and I city I’ve never walked through, Oaxaca. Its a bit like blind folding yourself and throwing a dart at a world map and going for it. A one way ticket to México.

This nation is so proud, independent. The first day here from Guatemala I sat in a courtyard café enjoying my requisite first shot of tequila, and I felt at home.

We’re looking for a place to rent, for at least a month, trying to settle. Oaxaca is known for its art scene, and there’s an opening on the 18th we plan on going to. I want to see what people are producing here.

Already, there is more graffiti here than anywhere else I’ve been, a sign of active minds. Its mostly political writing, intellectual rebuttal, “Go home tourists. We are anti-capitalists.” Active but its sleepy here. I can’t help but miss the hectic, survivalist energy of New York.

But the dream, my dream of a disco hotel in a land that is truly of the free, México, with surf below and disco nights above, a garden of herbs and rest from terror alerts is living through me.

Oaxaca City is land locked, a one hour flight or five hour drive to the waves. But here I will re-learn Spanish and investigate NAFTA laws, go to openings and begin the nessecary communication. Then I will begin the search for land, something that matches the images in my dreams.