Michele "Opinionated Chick" G.'s Profile

Founder David Wilson has created a mystery emporium, an odditorium - and like carnival mirrors, the exhibits bend and distort.... well, you'll have to see for yourself.

But think about this before going:

"Confusion can be a very creative state of mind," said David Wilson (museum founder) in an interview with author Lawrence Weschler, originally aired on NPR, October 27, 2001.
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As my husband and I stand just feet from the museum's entrance, a couple exit the building. The man, looking perplexed, rubs and bats his eyes. The woman with him has a thought bubble over her confused face that says, "What did  we just experience?!!" But they themselves say nothing at all. My husband and I don't know what to expect. We enter.

It's dark inside. There are disembodied sounds - howling coyotes and Indian chants - floating around the serious looking, yet curious, exhibits; many of these odd exhibits are accompanied by recordings of verbose, Latin-filled double speak, sounding very authoritative and knowing. After seconds of listening to this, my brain starts to feel like it's spinning in my skull on puree.

After nearly an hour of repeating "What?" about a thousand times, we stumble upon the tea room with a high Moorish ceiling and a pixy in a Russian dress who asks if we want tea and cookies. Of course, my husband and I don't resist. We sit down at a candle lit table and think. A threesome (a guy and two girls) entwined in a velvety corner alcove, sip tea while discussing Nietzsche and existentialism. Meanwhile, I'm just thinking, "Hey, these almond cookies are really good."

Horned humans, bats who can fly through solid matter, theories on forgetting, yellowed Victorian-era telegrams that come across as scammy as Nigerian Spam... What? Do you question? Do you simply trust? Do you have a good ironic laugh? Yep, and you may just see things a little differently after.

Upon returning to the glare and noise of mid-day Venice Boulevard, everything looks a little askew, like entering an alternate universe. I probably look as perplexed as those other people I saw leaving earlier, but actually I'm just thinking (and not about cookies, this time): "Question everything."

David Wilson is right: "Confusion can be a very creative state of mind."

I went here on one of my daughter's school field trips, years ago.

Hey, if you like smelling horse manure as you eat below average food with your hands, while men in tights and silly costumes run around on horses, you just might like this place.

I went to the Hammer Museum specifically to see architect John Lautner's exhibit (July 13-October 12, 2008) and highly recommend the exhibit and the museum.

First, Lautner's exhibit featuring photos, slide shows, sketches and models of his many structures (homes, schools, Googie coffee shops) reminded me how much he's added to the landscape of Los Angeles. Even if you don't know or care about architecture, I just can't imagine walking away from seeing Lautner's innovative designs and not being inspired to create something, anything.  

About the museum - it has a zen-like atmosphere with an open plaza surrounded by towering bamboo and uncluttered galleries.  In one gallery there's a collection of Van Gogh paintings, along with Rembrandt, Renoir, Sisley, Pissaro and more; it's a mix of impressionist landscapes and classic oil portraits.

There were other exhibits and film viewings that I didn't see because I spent too much time in the museum bookstore. I could've spent days in that store, it was stocked with so many amazing art books.

After not finding what we needed at Michael's craft store or Aaron Brothers, my husband and I remembered Continental Art Supplies.  

I like Continental.  Not only did they have what we needed, but I have a thing for little art stores like this. Heck, they even have a room up stairs that's dedicated solely to paper.  Ever need papyrus? They have it! Or paper that looks and feels like reptile skin? They have that, too.  

Standing among all the different brushes, pencils, pastels, tubes of oils, art books... I started to dream about selling everything to do nothing but paint and create. Then I saw myself as a starving artist... and I got hungry.  So we walked out the door and went to lunch.

Damn! I wanted to love this place. Why?

The food! It's really, really good. My husband had perfectly cooked eggs, eggs so perfect they could've appeared in an ad. The pancakes were fluffy, golden and tasted homemade. The bacon was just right, not too crisp or too chewy. My melted club and onion rings were really tasty, too.

The cooks at Cici's know what they're doing. They deserve five stars!  The atmosphere was nice, too.  

But oh..... the waitstaff was a disaster. We had to flag down someone to get seated.  No one stood at the hostess stand.  We needed to run around to find our own cream and butter. Then (and this is what sent me here to post a review, because it's something I've never seen before)...our waitress was socializing with customers. I don't mean she was just being friendly. No! She actually sat down with customers and had a full (seemingly deep) conversation with her back to the restaurant, as we waited for our bill.  My husband practically had to whip out a SOS flag to get her attention. When she finally did turn around and notice us, she looked less than thrilled to bring us our bill.  But even then she took her time walking over because (here's the killer) she was TEXT MESSAGING as she walked toward us!!

What the hell? The only way I could've possibly understood this is if the text message read, "get ur ass ovr there now or ur fired!"

What a shame. The food's really, really good.  Still, I can't see shelling out nearly $11 (the price of my tasty sandwich and onion rings) to be treated worse than my teenage daughter treats me at home.

Just yesterday, I drove by Tires Buy Mark and thought... hmmm, I haven't reviewed them yet.  I love that place!  Ok, it's greasy and smells like rubber - like a tire place should - but their smell isn't why I love them.

So I came on over to Yelp to leave my review, only to find someone else didn't have the pleasant experience I've always had at Tires Buy Mark. That, for me, is all the more reason I need to leave a review.  

I've been going to these guys for years and I've never had a problem. Plus, their prices are great and they're always so extremely helpful.  They make such a mundane task a huge pleasure.  I pull in and in only minutes an employee is putting tires on my car - no matter how busy they are.  No hassles and great prices.  That's why I love them.

Before finding Tires Buy Mark, I went numerous times to a place on Canoga and Saticoy that always took forever and constantly confused my order.  I know you're thinking "Well, what an idiot!  Why would you go to this place?" And I agree with you!!  I just thought all tire places required me to take up an entire afternoon watching Jerry Springer with strangers while breathing in grease and rubber, as rude employees figured out how to empty my bank account with their outrageously expensive tires.  Yes, I'm an idiot!  I know.
But I'm less of an idiot since I've discovered Tires Buy Mark.

One recent Saturday morning I needed to get keys made, so I remembered Franklin's.

I'm a huge fan of mom and pop hardware stores.  Something about the way they smell - of rubber hoses, lumber and other assorted manly smells.  Plus, people actually say "Hi!" when you enter.

The minute I walked into Franklin's, three or four people asked if I needed help, and the store was pretty busy.  Right away, the guy got working on my keys.  I leaned back on the Coca Cola cooler watching people come and go.  In minutes, I had my keys.  It was an entirely different experience than I've had at Home Depot, where I usually need to hunt someone down and then wait in a long line.

At Franklin's, I was in and out.

Plus, they're right next door to Le Bon Bread.  So, of course, I stopped by there for a pastry.

The next time I have a friend visit from out of town I may have to take them to Cheebo for lunch.  Why?  Because it's sooooo LA!  Remember Annie Hall's last scene at the Source on Sunset Boulevard?  Cheebo is more LA than that.  With its organic menu, art-covered tangerine walls and rock star and movie-type clientele, Woody Allen couldn't create a better only-in-Hollywood scene.

Though the sky was black and gray and drizzling, the moment my daughter and I entered Cheebo, sun seemed to pour through the mosaic of colored glass panes and land right on Slash from Guns n Roses.  Even though the small room was packed and servers swooshed by carrying towers of pita bread on hummus, Slash - with his full black curls and pierced nose - was hard not to notice.

After being seated next to a group of guys, we discovered the crayons placed on our table and began coloring away on the white paper-topped table.  My daughter worked on her hot pink heart, while I scribbled some psychedelic amoeba-like orbs.

The guys next to us - some independent film people, I'm guessing from what they were talking about - pointed out their own tablecloth art:  One blood covered dagger and some boobies.

"Well, that about sums up guys, right there," I said, glad they laughed and weren't offended.

Our lentil soup and Mediterranean plate arrived.  Everything was fresh and tasty.  As we ate, Slash walked by dressed in black jeans and black T-shirt.  My eyes locked on his muscular, tattooed bicep... Oops, I was staring.  But it's a small place and I was facing that way...  Oh, come on!   To not stare at Slash when he was only two feet in front of my face would just be lame.  I stared.  I ate.  I colored.  I liked Cheebo.

Where can a Valley movie-goer reserve seats in the section she wants?  Where can a Valley movie-lover see AFI films on the big screen if she doesn't want to drive to Hollywood?  Where can Valley-ites avoid half-hour long previews and too-loud and repetitive commericals?  Where can a Valley-dweller eat a perfect baby green salad in balsamic vinagrette with an upclose view of the 405 rushing by below?

The Valley's own Arclight in Sherman Oaks, complete with cafe.  I love it!

My daughter used to take guitar lessons here.  What a great place!  Founded by Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, it's a non-profit music school that not only provides music and voice lessons for children at reasonable prices, but also provides funding for those who can not afford it.  Every year Flea holds fundraisers for the conservatory, and I would imagine people can make donations all year long.

I loved those Saturday mornings when my daughter went to the conservatory.  She would have her guitar case over her shoulder as I dropped her off.  Then I'd walk up to Casbah Cafe for a tart and spearmint tea and then cross the street to the Silverlake farmers market; the whoe time knowing she was having fun practicing some Pink Floyd riffs.

Also her teacher was great - patient, kind and, yet, straight forward - always telling her the way it was.  She was improving, but not practicing enough - he could tell.  

She set aside the guitar around the time she started wanting to learn to drive a car.  Ahh...  I miss those Saturday mornings in Silverlake.

Thanks, Flea!!  You're doing great work.