You walk into what looks like a hodgepodge of colors, painted by photographers, models, fashion, art, and music. The two room, two story venue at 1015 SF is ideal for the flow and go of moving artists and patrons, coalescing from Oakland, Orange, Sacramento, and beyond to create one night of interactive exchange.
The bar was busy, the lights illuminated the illustrations, some seductive, others dream like and still others caricature-ized into a stream of consciousness–what feels to you like lucid dreaming from one booth to another. In the bar room, there are platforms for live models to stand and showcase the latest trends in indie fashion as Prince is playing to bring us back to a nostalgia of purple dreaming.
In the Runway room, the audience are in anticipation for the fashion artists to showcase their set.
Applauds, cheers, lights, drinks, banters, cell phones raised to capture the moment so fleeting.
“Where do you balance being in the present moment and taking a photo?” Elle had mused with you while you were both in front of the 1015 Folsom building waiting for your other two girlfriends to show.
“It must be the discipline of staying present to exactly where you are to remember the details. And when the you have an intuition, you quickly take out that cell phone or camera.”
And the sea of cameras light up as Artists stand with their heads high, swinging large and small hips of all sizes, sauntering with attitude. It’s that air of “I’m a Diva” that commands the stage. That is what the audience hungers for.
Divas The Chaos of Art
You are witnessing radical self-expression. You remind yourself that it is in San Francisco where the love movement started in protest to the war. You realize that perhaps the glitters in silver, gold, and colors are all protests for love.
You had images of Antifa as being fascists the last time you went to Berkeley when you had witnessed the riots, people from both sides spraying, kicking, and shouting.
You realize that fairies can not defeat military order by being military themselves. Fairies must harness its power through the realm of fantasy, dreams, and illusions, recreated in the runway, in the portraits, in the hugs, kisses, and exchanges of art to create the change they want to see.
Divas are born through the metamorphosis of pain. You feel the pain, you feel the collective hunger, you feel the fear transformed into artistic protest, manifested into a reality they want to see created.
Heaven for artists is a world that loses judgement, a faith that energy transfers, a dance between light and dark, and all the colors in between painting the melodies of their song. Like watching a spec out of the corner of your eye, you see glimpses of their hope that the portals will open from the ordinary to the extraordinary.
They hunger for fantasy creatures to come alive, perhaps through their art, their actions, their stage creations so that this seemingly ordinary world can become a hero’s journey in realms that Piers Anthony realms, Isaac Asimov, Neil Gaiman, and JK Rowling paints.
Painting intimate portraits of expression, beauty, chaos, and words that stand for open interpretation.
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