I was heading down Western Avenue one day recently and happened upon this new image:
|Artist @Ginoflo, Inner Beauty, Outer Manifestation of Love, paint on wall facing gas station.|
The great sage "They" tells us that what really counts is what's on the inside. I think this sentiment is captured quite succinctly in this image, don't you?
|Big leg close up|
Like underground comic artist Robert Crumb, I like big legs on females. I'm pretty sure the main figure here is female ... but if not, who cares? And it's great thing she has big legs. The bigger the limb, the more imagery!
I mention Robert Crumb because this piece reminds me very much of the underground comics I discovered as a wee lad in the 1970s. They were all black and white and sometimes there were just pen-and-ink pages that were simply a wandering landscape of weird images all linked together.
I had NO idea what an underground comic was. I was probably 12 or 13. I believe it was called the "The Bald Eagle." I knew nothing of the other kinds of stuff they had there. I smelled of incense and was quite dark. I would later learn that such a place was called a head shop. I saw the familiar structure of the revolving comic book rack and headed straight for it and started looking. Zap #0 was the first one I picked up. And I had never seen such a thing. This was nothing like Superman, Action, Archie, House of Secrets, etc.
The guy behind the counter had no problem selling it to me, bless his heart. This was my introduction to non-linear storytelling (oh, and there was sex and drugs to learn about too...). Hollywood Boulevard was a very different kind of place back then too. Right on the same block I'd pick up the bus going east toward home.
"Down at the golden cup
They set the young ones up
Under the neon light
Selling day for night"
[Jackson Browne, Boulevard, 1980]
Another go-to spot on the boulevard was Phil Harris Records where I would go and find whatever I could on sale to augment my record collection of classical music--my tastes at the time ran to the 19th-century romantics because I was a trumpet player and loved to hear brass sections.
When me and my brothers were small, my Mom would take us to Pickwick Books which was also in the same vicinity. She was always buying romance and historical fiction. The place had three stories. I believe the nonfiction books were on the 2nd floor. The 3rd (it was probably just a loft) floor was my favorite though. Mom would frequently tell me I could spend X number dollars and they had all the bargain remainders up there going for mere cents.
Alright, that's enough of that. Time to pay the rent kids.
Oh, and here's the whole wall:
LOTS of love to you all!
Found the artists on Instagram: Kevin Systrom and Mike Krieger...