Number Lore

I have, for the last 5 days, been working on the sales tax for the gallery. Now for those of you that don’t know me, numbers and my brain don’t always coincide. You can ask all the folks at my bank. We’re on a first name basis. Imagine a meteor hitting a small planet at a rather accelerated speed. It’s not that I’ve sold a great deal and there’s a plethora of receipts (not sure what people see in that word). After all…It is art we’re talking here people. But the fact that I’m doing any type of accounting is about the equivalent of me making a pot roast with all the trimmings. It’s quite an unnatural thing.

I feel certain that my accountant ascertained something in me early on that made him come up with an “idiot proof” chart. I’m to fill in “only the little green squares”. I’m to “utilize the drop down menus” and use “only the categories created”. He’s made it “H proof”. It won’t let me type ANYWHERE I’m not supposed to. Ahh, what’s the fun in that? He asked me to send him a small portion of my handiwork to be certain I wasn’t “coloring outside the lines”…screwing up his perfectly executed spread sheet. It even gives me a big red “OK” when I’ve done a good job. Kinda the equivalent of one of those gold stars in elementary school. I sent off my first draft. Sadly…it was for the year 2009 ;(

I did all the requested revisions to round one. I’ve just completed my 4th quarter, sent it off and am eagerly awaiting my grade. It took 6 cups of thick, black, pumpkin spice coffee just to finish. I remember the day when he looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I knew not to keep writing checks if I didn’t have any money in the account. I’m still chuckling over that. I distinctly remember my Father asking my Mother that very same thing! I can say in all honesty, on that one point, I’m pretty clear. I still wish I’d said “That’s when I’m supposed to pull out my credit card, right?…What’s life without messing with the analyticals?

As far as my relationship with numbers goes, I’m not concerned. One of the bank tellers yesterday told me I had wonderful “fashion sense”. The next teller readily agreed and so did the head of business accounts (and he’s a man). So you see…no worries…I already have some form of “sense” down. 😉

June 5th

If you are going through hell… keep going.
Winston Churchill

I need anyone and everyone that reads my blog (and those who just happened upon it) to get up on Thursday and simply say “Keep going”. I believe in Karma and the power of positive energy sent from others…even when they don’t know why. I promise to write an “Erma Bombeck” explanation in exchange for those blindly given positive thoughts.

June 5th Folks. Please remember…It’s important.

This week’s lesson

What a week! Today is March 8th and I finally just got into my new studio. I learned a very valuable lesson about people and business this week. I learned to not trust and to get things in writing. I met my landlord about 2 months ago when I signed my rental agreement. I paid 3 months in advance and he told me the previous tenant would be out by the 1st…no later than the 3rd…and that he would take care and adjust my rent if it ended up the 3rd. Sounded good to me. Now I have, from time to time, popped into the building to measure this and recheck that and have even brought people with me to make some drawings. There are 2 guys, one being the actual tenant and one being his longtime friend, councilor and CPA. These guys are Mormons and both were very nice to me when I initially met them. Then, most of time I re-visited, it would just be the CPA guy there working away, trying to fix the other guy’s financials (because he was losing his business). I grew to really like this guy. He used to work a very unhappy 9 to 5 job (which I understood) and he was humble and sweet. He gave me some brief financial business advise and I designed him a new logo (for his new self employment), printed him some business cards and brought him cookies That I mercifully didn’t make).

On the 29th of February, a long awaited leap year, I showed up at the building, peeked my head in and yelled hello. They were both there on this occasion…along with all the furniture, desks, computers, files and gigantic tv . Nothing had been moved, boxed or organized. I asked what was up and they both said” Is this the end of the month already?” ALARM BELLS GOING OFF IN MY HEAD. Yes, yes it is. That’s when the tenant spoke up and said Oh, we’ll be out of here by the 3rd, no worry. Well, I wasn’t going panic because I had heard that it could be the 3rd. Sadly, I wouldn’t have that weekend to clean. I left after a brief, friendly conversation with the CPA guy, who at that time felt bad and actually gave me his own key. He walked me down to the mailbox to show me where it was while I asked him how his buddy was doing. I’m a nice person, I wanted to be sensitive to the guy losing his business. He had after-all, done alot of work to the room I would soon occupy…I didn’t want to rub salt into the wound.

I left and everyday, I would drive by. This guy has about 50 cases of bottled water on the patio outside the office and I knew when I didn’t see them, he would be gone. I at one time asked him if he was taking it with him (he had gotten it free from the beach games they have in the summer where vendors pass it out). I told him that it could be donated to the Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts but he said he would be leaving with it and I dropped it after that. So I drove by on the second…still water bottles, the 3rd…still water bottles and on the forth day I finally called him. No answer. Later that day he called to say that the guy buying his furniture had not come to get it so he needed to stay until the 5th. It was at this point that I said I would have to call the landlord because he needed to adjust my rent.

Now you must keep in mind…this tenant guy called me on the phone once to warn me that after I had already verbally told the landlord I would take the office, he showed someone else the space…the tenant said “you seem like a nice lady, I just want you to know that this happened. My husband told me to calm down and that the landlord was just covering his rear, in case I backed out because I hadn’t actually signed the contract, just verbally said yes. It wasn’t my deal that the contract hadn’t been signed. It was the landlord’s not coming down with a contract for me to actually sign. He said, no worry.

Anyway, back to why I was willing to trust the tenant. It was because of this call of warning. I felt he was looking after me knowing all the plans I was making and times I had visited with his buddy to measure something. So when I said I needed to call the landlord to tell him…the tenant said no, no need to bother him…I’ll just pay you. I did not want to do this. Everything in me told me no. But that call… I really had no choice when he said the 5th because none of his stuff was gone yet and I couldn’t very well carry it out myself.

Well you guessed it. The 5th came and went and no phone calls to say, I’ll come give you the keys to the space and the bathrooms. I drove by and yes, same lovely water bottles. On the 6th I drove over before work..and low and behold…a moving van!. I went to work happy, knowing this would all be over. No phone call came that evening so I called him. No answer. Tried the next day..same water bottles and same no answer…and no returned calls.

Friday after work and after calling him 2 more times, I went over and let myself in. I saw the tenant’s desks and files and immediately left making sure another 2 tenants saw me leave quickly and with nothing that did not belong to me. I called the landlord. I told him the situation. That his tenant just would not leave and that I didn’t know him, didn’t want to be involved and just wanted him to know that I still had not been able to move in.

Now this is where it gets really good. The landlord told me that once I gave the not-leaving tenant an ok to stay (which I didn’t really, I just never had a choice) and that he had an agreement to pay me, it was my problem to get him out. He said I had a key to let myself in and that I could have asked him to get out and that he (being the landlord had nothing to do with it). His contract was now only with me!

I will give him that one credit. He was right when he said I did not call him on the first and tell him. I didn’t and I didn’t because he told me himself it could be until the 3rd! I was so dumbfounded at this point I know I was yelling into the phone. I simply could not believe what I was being told. That it was my space, the contract was for the 1st and I should have moved in. If I didn’t want the space, I didn’t have to take it and that he would rent it to someone else. I explained that I would never move into a building that had someone else’s belongings inside and he said, well, you should have because it was yours to move into! My contract with him ended and mine began with yours. At this point I decided I was dealing with at least 2 lunatics and started to really wonder if it was all going to be worth it. I got in my car and drove to another building that had just come up for lease, called and was told how much…too much…and too much work.

A friend of mine accidentally called my number and while on the phone, I needed an ear and vented my story. It was at this point he “hostage negotiated” me into calmness. He said to go to the building, change the locks and pack the guys sh– up. He actually told me to toss it onto the parking lot but I’m just not that person (in this life anyway). I called the tenant again. No answer. Then, while talking on the phone to my husband, or rather yelling into the phone with frustration…the idiot chose to call and leave a message. My guess was the landlord called him (and threatened him) and magically he called me back to leave a freaking voice-mail. I immediately called back and you can guess…no answer. I drove over to the building, opened the door for the second time with the key his friend had given me and stood in the space. The tenant’s desks were still there, office junk, computer stuff and many (what looked to me) important personal files… But in those few minutes I allowed myself to walk and really look at the room, a calm came over me. I looked at the space…really looked at it. I knew it was meant for me…even if I almost allowed 2 complete assholes to destroy a dream for me.

I went home and called a locksmith. 😉 At this point I had my husband step in. He was actually working this weekend but he made the call to the tenant warning him that the locks would be changed at 5pm and that he had better get his stuff out and also bring me 8 days of rent…in cash. I waited all day at home for him to call or show up. At 5pm I went to the building and yes, the water bottles, desks and all the other were still there…no call. I hoped at this point the guy was in jail…and couldn’t call. I had the locks changed and never once was I worried about the tenant showing up. I had told the locksmith my dilemma and that I was a bit leery about the guy, knowing changing the locks would piss him off. The locksmith smiled, told me he was one of 5 brothers, all from Israel…Military trained in Special Forces…and I had not a reason in the world to worry. How lovely it was that he came (or was sent to me). And that, my dear readers, was the first laugh I had in 3 days…

Later, my husband and brother-in-law came and we packed all the tenants crap up. I had to talk them out of throwing it into the dumpster…because I really want to dump it on his front lawn…and I will!

After everything was packed, the floors were swept and I looked at the room and I was finally happy. I will, from now on, mail my rent to the landlord without further communication, unless he begins it. He has a job so I doubt I will hear much more from him as long as he can smell his dear old money. As far as the tenant, I will have no further dealing with him..and sadly, nor his friend. One will forever be part of the other’s sins in my memory. This guy was going to be my new CPA but who in their right mind would trust a friend of a jerk with their personal information? Not this gal.

So, if any of you out there ever decide to begin a business of your own, where you are involved in a lease and another previous tenant, be wiser that me. Don’t trust anyone. Get it in writing…because if you behave kindly, you will be run over flatter than a cd! I’m keeping the space because I know this was my test. I know most landlords are probably like Cinderella’s wicked stepmother anyway and that the worst is over. I know that once they have their money, their interest in your problems is harder to find than comfortable heels… so be ready to fend for yourself. I believe very strongly in Karma. So Adam and Alex, watch your heads…because something is coming for you…and I hope you feel it…hard.

But now it’s time for the Artists to have their day. Now is the time to build! 😉

Not just a song…

2 Good-byes

I went to my last Santa Monica Art show. It cost 8 dollars to park and 30 more for 2 people to get inside. I like to think myself progressive and open minded when it comes to art, artists and people in general. I love modern, experimental and performance art as well as all the previous masters, old and new. My home is filled with an array of eclectic pieces that I have both purchased and been gifted. So, upon arrival, when I was faced with a black canvas that looked very much like someone had chewed up Reynold’s wrap and spit it out onto the canvas… which I knew probably wasn’t the case, unless the artist had very good teeth indeed… I moved on with great anticipation.

I saw a really large bed mattress, painted entirely in high gloss baby blue, hanging from a wall with excess paint dripping under and below. I have an intense dislike for baby blue as it is…having had to endure my first home and it’s wall to wall baby blue carpet for a year because I could not afford to change it. To be faced with this was more than I could bare…even though I did marvel at the folks not smirking as they studied it… and I moved on.

I turned corner after corner, trying hard to hold my breath so I wouldn’t utter anything inappropriate….like “utter crap” or “Do they think us fools“. I listened to the “informed” and the “intellectuals“. I observed the scarfed, the hatted, the caped, the outright pompous and bejeweled. I saw phony after phonier trying to look the part of ” Artist” or “Artist Rep“and I won’t even go into what I saw in the ladies room as a woman prepared her “Costume“. I wasn’t even aware there was “A Look“…But what I didn’t see was alot of talent…real exciting new talent!

I watched the gallery owners and reps sitting in chairs, each assembled in their booths, all mindless of the people who had paid to see what was new. They sat madly clicking away on their Macs…God, I wished I’d had my 5D with me. There was so much material I was breathless.

Then I finally came upon something wonderful. It was new and fresh and fantastic. I stood looking at the canvas intensely. I watched out of the corner of my eye as I stood, waiting to be approached, the rep…sitting…doing nothing but holding her cell phone. After minutes, I walked over “to her“. I asked if she was the artist. “No” She told me…”she was the gallery owner” “The artist is_____”, then nothing more. I waited. I then asked about the medium and was given a short, specific answer…then nothing more. I waited. Then I asked if he was local…”No, German” was the reply. I waited. Nothing more. I looked at her and shook my head. I should have said “If you rep someone and you actually paid to get into this place, you probably should actually TALK about the work and the artist you are representing because I may be not be dressed as a Banker, or an Artist or a Movie Star ( I didn’t get the memo), but I may just be a future client“. But no, I shook my head and walked away. I felt a great dis-service towards the artist. I felt his talent deserved better…much better.

As I turned the corner, it was straight in front of me…the one “work of art” that finally made me lose it. It appeared to be a rather poor interpretation of Beethoven (or possibly Ben Franklin without glasses) sitting in a most unfortunate garden. I envisioned a brush being handled between toes (after I saw the artist). I can’t actually be sure because I couldn’t see the length of the toes but…I’m fairly certain…

I had to hold my hand over my face to cover up the loudest cackle…while quickly exiting…

While driving away from Santa Monica to head home, I passed a little old surf shop. I got out and shot this. I think the owner of the shop probably spray painted it himself, right on his own wall. I think it was the best piece I saw all day. It made me actual “feel” something. I connected with it instantly. I probably should have told him he had a definite future.

Search engines

Ok, I’m beginning to take notice of how people find my blog…I watch the search engine info. On any given day, I see “Old trains”, “Route 66” or something to do with travel.

Today…I see “Psycho Norman Bates” and they actually came to this blog… go figure 😉

My own back yard

In my continuing saga to build an unusual reception type desk to fit the spirit of Anuvue, I set out exploring the internet. I don’t know about you, but I typically get side tracked away from exactly what I’m looking for… and end up trying to ship some strange, obscure thing from somewhere like a glacier off Greenland (or is that Iceland).

Anyway, my mind see’s this very cool desk, made from stainless steel, with some sort of pattern…and of course will probably end up costing not only the farm, but most likely 3 times anything I could have purchased ready made. But, as luck would have it, I found the perfect thing…in New York. Hey, at least I’ve worked my way to the US.

I have this friend who makes trade show booths and builds all the interiors of new stores for a rather large Surf Company… and, if I don’t stock him too much, he is always happy to help. I emailed him (much safer for him) and told him what I was looking for. I asked him if he knew anyone closer…say So Cal area…somewhere I could drive and pick up a sheet of this beautiful stuff, without bending or mangling it in the process. And, as is usually the case…he told me of a place, that embarrassing as this is to admit…is about 1/4 mile from the Printing Company I have worked at for these 20 LONG years. When I saw the old map Quest map…I burst out loud laughing!

I probably should have called these poor unsuspecting folks to warn them I was coming. They could have made themselves ready… or at least armed themselves with a metal trash can lid. Now picture a place that works for the Aircraft Industries and Automotive type people…and then picture a woman standing at two double glass doors…as they opened, shrieking with glee. I ran up and down the isles, caressing all the beautiful sheets of metals available…patterned, rolled, anodized, embossed, pierced…holy moses…my Mecca. One poor soul came up, perplexed to see a woman in leggings, sandals and a crazy skirt… I think he figured I was on my way to the mall and got it all wrong…and then…he asked the magic question…”Can I help you Miss” with up-extended eyebrows?

For the next half hour, he patiently answered every hairbrained question I could think of…”What’s this for?”…”How is that used”…”oh my God, what colors do you have”…”what size”…”how much” ? You get the idea.

He was a very nice man and will no doubt hide from me when I return to buy my ideal sheet metal. Upon my departure, I did ask how long the company had been there …He told me 20 years…

Facing 50 Head On

Yes, that is 2 puns in one line… TDB

Self Portrait