Insanity

Thank you to all of you who sent emails welcoming us back to the blogosphere, from our extended holiday. Which, as a matter of fact, is where we left you when we went radio silent. So, we did make it back from Greece. Between the Iceland volcano, violent rioting outbreaks in Athens, and virtually all Greek airline employees striking, it really is a wonder we made it home at all. But we did, and without even a single delay or cancellation of any of our 4 flights. Miracles do happen. So, we are back, and hoping to keep you informed/entertained on a more regular basis.

Whenever we travel abroad, it goes without saying that all bets are off when it comes to eating healthy, sensibly, and maintaining a regular workout routine. And of course, by we, I mean me. I usually spend a sufficient amount of time on that dreaded 23 hour journey home from Greece, mentally dedicating myself to some kind of healthy routine that I can start immediately, as in, upon touching ground in the US. It's kind of like my penance, my apology to myself for “lettin it all go” while on vacation. Come on, the food is so good, plus there's a mother-in-law to contend with. Greek woman love to shovel food at you. It's like their birthright, I say why fight it? Who am I to deny this wonderful woman happiness, of course my thighs will have another helping of moussaka.

So my “eating healthy” upon entering the US goes a little something like this: While packing up the car at LAX someone mentions In-n-Out Burger (or maybe noone mentioned it at all and it was a delusion)... I do not blink, I do not take a breath, I do not take one millisecond to consider the consequences of going against my in flight promises to myself, I blurt out a resounding "YES, LETS GO!"  So what? What's one more day of not fitting in my jeans? I've got to acclimate back into the American diet, plus nothing says welcome home like a Double Double. 

If you do not recall  my post about P90x back in 2009, then I recommend you click the link and read about this crazy workout that I was doing prior to our trip to Greece. A country where, unfortunately, calories do count. Sad, but true. I love the P90x program and I got right back into it shortly after the disgraceful In n Out incident. But then I completed the 13 week program...woo hoo....and wanted to try something else. After serious contemplation and research I decided to invest in a little something we like to call Insanity.

The Insanity workout, from www.beachbody.com, is in fact INSANE. There is a rendering of a puddle of water shown on the cover of the package that the dvd's arrive in, which you think nothing of, until you try your first workout and realize it's a subliminal message telling you to get out while you can. That's no puddle of water my friends, it's the river of sweat that you can expect to pool right off you while engaging in this lunatic program. Unless you have trained for the Navy Seals, in which case just move along brother this post ain't for you, then you have no idea what you are in for. No exaggeration, I was sweating within 3 minutes of the first workout....and I'm a P90x graduate for chrissakes!

A complete and utter departure from P90x, Insanity doesn't use any weights and is all about building endurance. The leader is Shaun T, don't know who is but apparently he's some famous athlete with an affinity for doling out torture. Even Shaun T mentions in one of the warm ups that he's scared for the workout that's about to follow. Ummm, Shaun T, you designed the program, you being scared doesn't instill a whole hell of a lot of confidence in me! Why dont they edit that shit out?  But anyhoo, the program is the same in theory as P90x. You do a different workout each day, creating the same "confusion" they lay claim to be the answer to quick results.  The program is broken down into two 30 day rotating routines.  I am entering my 4th week, so I haven't started the second 30 days.  I am completely petrified, to be perfectly honest, because I can't imagine how this could get any more challenging.  But I am going to do this thing!  And if I can do it, believe you me, so can you!

If you are looking for a kick ass workout and you want to see fast results and feel good about yourself – go treat yourself to P90x. If you have completely lost your mind and want to challenge yourself to do something you never thought you could endure, by all means get Insanity. Or, you can do what I'm going to do when the 60 day madness is over, and incorporate P90x and Insanity into a hybrid of workout perfection. That's probably when I'll implement the cautious eating program and greet my next decade with the body I wished I'd had in my twenties.  

Dig Deeper!  (Fyi thats another subliminal message, you'll understand later)

Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen...

I can recall a time, not too long ago, when shopping was a glorious sport. While I was never one to drop full price on anything at Neiman Marcus, I certainly was proud of what I would have deemed a “steal” at NM if it was even marked down by a mere 30%. Shoes, pants, shirts, dresses, you name it. It was the thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the catch and the rush of slapping down my credit card for a brand new pair of wood stacked heels for $195 that some poor impatient sucker paid $695 for, because she couldn't wait for the inevitable sale. Moron. I then continued to float through life, in complete and under bliss, feeling as though I was getting away with murder.

Denial is a lovely place to visit, but I really don't recommend you take up residency. So, when the entire country fell into a deep state of reality and all spending came to a screeching hault, I too had to face the facts. My days of irresponsible spending were over. I have become a much more responsible shopper. I no longer buy anything unless I truly love it and equally important, can truly afford it. Gone are the days of buying something just because its on super sale and its a fancy expensive designer. Except, that I have made a discovery. Now, hold on to your pristinely maintained Prada wallets, because I am not about to unveil a secret mall that sells authentic Bottega Veneta for pennies on the dollar. So, you can relax. But I am going to tell you how I found a way to buy designer goods for a steal.

My years of compulsive shopping resulted in quite an abundance of clothing, shoes and accessories, as I'm sure you can imagine. Some of which, I am ashamed to admit, have never been worn. A few of the pieces may be slightly outdated, but mostly in good condition. So, I got wind of a store that will buy your “hand me downs” and you can either accept 30% of the cash value that they can sell it for OR a credit for 50% of the cash value they can sell it for and you can use it in their store. Interesting concept.

Let me pause to say, there are two types of retail establishments that I abhor, the thrift store and the sporting goods store. No need to explain the latter, but the thrift store was just never my gig. The clothes always smelled funny and felt like they had a thin invisible veil of filth. The whole experience has always been just a little bit too Kumbaya for me .   If there's an inner hippie living somewhere down deep in my soul, I have yet to connect with her.

Somehow, a marketing genius has managed to take the “thrift” out of this particular used clothing store, because it doesn't smell funny and none of the patrons resemble Stevie Nicks. So, I decide I should try and sell my clothes. Why not, even if I get a few bucks here and there it's better than nothing, right? It'll make me feel a little less wasteful. I drag my dear friend, who I will call Doctor D (cuz she's a doctor, duh) with me to Crossroads Trading Co. in Santa Monica and we lug two 10 gallon size trash bags full of my old clothes and shoes to see what we can get. I walk up to the counter with my wares, and a young gal starts to sift through my items one by one, examining each piece with careful archaeological scrutiny. I anxiously look around for Doctor D who has ditched me to troll through the used clothes. Gross. I just want my cash, and go. And then this youth, who has been scouring my clothing, looks up at me and says with an apologetic smile, “I'm sorry, but we're going to have to pass on these things today”. What? Not even the brand new Stuart Weitzman's in camel? Doesnt this style misfit know that camel is back with a vengeance this fall? And now, by the way, I am going to have to lug all of this shit back to my car.

Not only am I pissed, but I am kindof embarrassed. And that's when my girlfriend walks up with handfuls of shirts and says “I found tons of cute things for both of us to try!” Oh, hells no! No way am I going to BUY anything in this joint after they basically just told me my clothes aren't even good enough for a THRIFT Store! But she held up the collection of really cute tops and I couldn't resist. I looked at the price tags and the most expensive thing was $12. So, I did what any self respecting (ex) shopaholic would do. I politely asked if I could leave my pile of rejects in the corner so I could shop.

And shop, I did. I ended up buying 4 shirts for under $40. Being on the other end of the stick, I now understand the rigorous scrutiny that went on when I arrived with my clothes for purchase. Crossroads only buys current styles that are in season and are meticulously maintained. So no, I guess they don't care that camel is back for fall, they only care about what someone is going to buy in July. Juicy, Poleci, Splendid and Ella Moss. Those are the designers I went home with, granted they are not the “stolen” designer deals from a bygone era. But a brand new Juicy sweatshirt will easily cost $65. I paid $4.50.

So, while I may not be strutting my stuff in last seasons Alexander McQueen, I can still feel the post purchase “high” that won't send me into financial ruins.   

Crossroads Trading Co.

1449 4th St. 

Santa Monica

310-255-0500

Cat got your tongue?

A word to the wise to those who travel abroad.   If you want to enhance your vacation in a foreign land, I suggest you brush up on the language of the locals.  Just the basics, of course, are handy.  “Hello“, “how are you“, “where is the toilet” are a good start.  I also recommend adding “what the hell are you saying about me”, and “no thank you, I don’t want to meet my main course before dinner”.  You can decide what will be useful to you, but I also suggest getting acquainted with the common curse words and make sure you don’t accidentally call someone a mother f*#%er when all you want to say is “nice to see you again”.    Or, place the emphasis on the wrong syllable and you’ve gone from congratulating a bride on her beautiful wedding to telling her to go “f” herself.  No joke.  Learned the hard way.

My other suggestion, I have also learned from experience, is be realistic in your language learning skills.  Unless you  pick up languages easily,  it may be unrealistic to expect you will be understanding and speaking fluent Greek, for example, after a couple of visits - eh hem.  And my last piece of advice, I really cannot stress enough, never ever, under any circumstances, announce to the Greek family you have married in to, that you will be speaking their language fluently on your next visit.  Especially if your next visit is less than a year away.   I, by the way, do not have any recollection of said promise, but I evidentially said it and there is one cousin in particular who WILL NOT LET ME LIVE IT DOWN.   As my punishment, whenever she sees me, she refuses to speak to me in English.  So she speaks to me in Greek, I stare blankly at her, and then she gets mad.  Not sure who is suffering more from this little “I told you so”, but either way she cant bully me into understanding her.  I’m getting dangerously close to “congratulating her on her wedding day” ;-).

My excuse for not advancing in my Greek, is that I somehow managed to lose my copy of Rosetta Stone.  Rosetta Stone is a computer software program that is a fabulous way for you to teach yourself any language at your own pace.  Greek being a little bit harder because you have the added task of  learning the Greek letters on your own before starting the program.  But the program is very effective, in that, it teaches you to become familiar not only with hearing words and phrases, but reading them as well.  When I first started using the program at home, I was really impressed with my progress.  I couldn’t believe how much I was learning, and really couldn’t wait until our next visit so I could finally step off the sidelines at family gatherings and participate in the conversation.  Well much to my dismay, unless the family was discussing topics that included sentences like “the horse runs on the grass”  or “the yellow car” I was just as lost as I was pre-Rosetta Stone.  As hard as I tried, I could only catch a few words here and there, and not enough to understand what was being discussed, just enough to know that someone in the room may have a car, or a horse.  

My all time favorite phrase I have learned from Rosetta Stone is the following:  “prosehee kangohroh.”  Which translates, “be careful, kangaroo!”  Of course I remember the completely useless phrase.  But just in case you are traveling through Greece with me, and we happen upon a misplaced kangaroo, I’ve got your back.  For the time being, the only person who I can actually understand is my 3 year old niece.  She speaks in slow simple sentences, just like the nice lady on the Rosetta Stone.   I spend a lot of time playing with Sianna, she gets me.

Upon much encouragement from my husband and in laws to practice what little Greek I do know, I have been making an effort with the basics like “goodnight”, “how are you”, “thank you”. So, I walked into a shop with Mr. Phou the other day and tried on a dress, and with my newfound confidence I turned to the shop owner and Mr. Phou and said “I like this dress”.  At least that’s what I thought.  “This is my ear” is what they heard.  Whatever, I tried.  There’s always next trip.

Is that a stethoscope in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

When Mr. Phou and I visit Greece, we always stay with my in laws.  While that may sound like a death sentence to you, I am happy as clam, as we are treated like English royalty.  They live in a practically brand new house, with all of the modern amenities one could hope for in any luxury resort.  We enjoy comfortable accommodations, home cooked Greek cuisine, and anything our hearts desire.  “The mother in law”, which is how she refers to herself and has since long before she actually became my mother in law, is like the energizer bunny, always on the move cooking, cleaning, and tending to everyone’s needs.  She also makes jewelry, runs her own store, and baby sits for her grandchildren.  Absolutely NO idea how she does it all. Oh and did I mention she’s always giggling and cracking jokes?  One of the most incredible and adorable human beings I have ever encountered, and lucky me I get to be related to her!

Then there is the father in law, who likens himself to a pirate.  No, I didn’t make that up, he actually calls himself The Pirate, while placing a hand over one eye just to be certain I know what he’s talking about.   I laugh and nod my head in agreement, like I‘m in on the joke, but the truth is I have no idea what that is supposed to mean.  Perhaps I have seen one too many movies, but to my understanding, a pirate is one who steals things and lives on a big leaky boat.  To my knowledge my father in law does neither of these things, but who am I to argue?  He seems proud to be a pirate, the American Jew married to his son is not going to be the one to question him.

Perhaps it is because we travel so far and endure so much to actually get to the city of Chania for our visits, that we are treated like royalty, or maybe I am married to the favorite son.   However, seeing as the other son has given them two grandchildren, and all we have spawned is a hungry Beagle, chances are slim that Mr. Phou has pushed ahead as the favorite.  In any event, the royal treatment begins before we even touch down in Chania.  The pirate picks us up from the airport from our 35 minute puddle jumper that gets us to the island, while the energizer bunny cooks every one of our favorite foods, in anticipation of our arrival.  Vacation thus commences.

I love being coddled and cared for, especially by someone else’s parents.  Why?  Because I don’t have any built up resentment from my youth that will inevitably rear its ugly head.  So, when the in laws got wind of my mystery on again off again knee problem which I cleverly self diagnosed as a torn meniscus requiring surgery, they insisted that I visit the hospital while in Greece to get an actual doctor's opinion.  Living in L.A. I have at my disposal countless options for orthopedic doctors that all come highly recommended.  What I don’t have at my disposal in L.A. is medical attention that costs the same as a cup of Starbuck’s coffee.  So off we go to the hospital on Tuesday morning.  Myself, Mr. Phou and The Pirate.  Yes, somehow this qualifies as a family affair.

The Pirate is an interesting character, he doesn’t take no for answer and if he wants to get something done, it's as good as done.  All I know is that he got us in to see one of the best orthopedics Greece has to offer and we didn’t wait more than 5 minutes to see this medical magician.  I laid on the examining table as he poked and prodded and twisted my knee, drew on it with a pen and then promptly sent me downstairs for an xray, that also took all of 10 minutes, which included the walk down the hall.  Granted the whole episode went down in Greek, and other than the man handling of my sad knee no one really paid attention to me.  Back upstairs to reunite with the magician doctor, with my fresh xray in hand, my prognosis was minutes away.  Mr. Phou received the verdict, while The Pirate looked on.  I waited patiently for someone to explain, in English, to the person whose knee was in question.  Side note, to the foreigner everything sounds like a catastrophe in Greek, so naturally I think they are discussing the details of my very involved orthoscopic surgery that the doctor thinks I need immediately.   Mr. Phou, the ever loving wonderful husband, sensing my anxiety about being left out of the discussion turned to me quickly to let me know he would explain later, but the prognosis was good.  What a relief, and as I later found out, no surgery needed.  Shocking.

I will politely keep my opinion about the health care system in the states to myself.  All I am saying is that my two xrays cost a whopping 4.72 euros.  That’s $6.40, ok I lied two cups of Starbuck’s coffee.  Here is the reason why I am sharing this information with you.  Anyone can go to the hospital in Greece and receive the same treatment for the same cost.  Anyone.  I’ll just leave it at that. What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?  I’ve already seen the ruins at Knossos, so instead we’ll be taking blood tests.  I swear on my Beagle I am having an excellent vacation and simultaneously eternally grateful to my caring in laws.

Bad hair on Crete? Never again...

Bad hair?  Bad hair and you're out of town?  Bad hair and you're out of town on a fabulous vacation on the island of Crete?  Well, that I can help you with.  Perhaps I am one of the few, perhaps growing few, who has no particular allegiance to any one hair dresser.  It’s not that I don’t have the ability to be faithful.  And it’s definitely not that I always think the grass is greener on the other side.  I just don't want to pay $100, or likely more, for a haircut.  Color, fine.  But to cut my hair?  Come on?  I am not ashamed to say that I have frequented the Fantastic Sam's on Laurel Canyon in Studio City, many times.  Of course that affair ended when my favorite stylist (if that’s even what they're called at FS) just up and left without explanation, not even so much as a sticky note - remember when Berger broke up with Carrie on a sticky note? Well I had to find someone else to cut my locks for under $50, so I started asking around.















There really is no shame in a walk in haircut.  I am pretty brave, I admit, when it comes to the haircut.  I always figure, I have so much hair to spare, if they mess up I'll survive.  I don’t typically go in totally blind, I'll get a recommendation from someone.  Albeit, anyone who doesn’t have horrible hair.  So while visiting the fam, for our annual trip to Crete, Greece that is, my sister in law suggested a visit to Maria at Hair Lab.  Jenn, with a sassy and oh so fashion forward short hairdo, I was pretty certain I would be in good hands.

This year will be mine and Mr. Phou's second visit to Maria, and I must say, pleased again!  Maybe you are under the assumption that because Crete is an island, that their idea of fashion is a bit, shall I say, behind the times?  That perhaps if you have a burning desire to own a white leather jacket and tight acid wash jeans, you should save your clothing budget for your island vacation.  Well let me splash a bit of cold water on your face because, though they are behind on some things (still waiting for that wireless router to arrive at my in laws so I can forgo the dial up on my father in laws desktop) they are quite on top of things in certain areas.

Now don't judge by what you see on the streets, you will think I've lost my mind.  I am fully aware that, for some reason in Greece, it is all the rage to have the "just had a chainsaw taken to my head" haircut.  Just trust me when I tell you that I went in to see Maria who, by the way, trained in London with Vidal Sassoon and Toni and Guy (mmm hmmm, now your impressed) had a brief conversation about what I wanted, which was pretty much just a little trim off the bottom and some cleaning up of the ends, and walked out with fabulous hair.

I'm not gonna say that the consistent and steady cigarette smoking by the hairstylists and patrons before, during, and after the haircut isn’t a little...distracting.  But you know what?  When in Rome - or in this case, Greece.  That’s what they do there, get over it!  For 25 euros,  which is roughly $35, for what would easily cost me over $100 in the states I will happily put up with a little smoke.  I know what you're thinking, that it didn't include a blow dry.  Wrong.  Wash, cut and fantastic blow dry. An absolute perfect blow dry that got me through a dinner party, baptism and an afternoon with the family.  Three whole days of perfectly straight clean fabulous hair.  Jenn also tells me Maria is great with color, so perhaps I will one day fulfill my fantasy and return to the states with golden locks.

No, I am not suggesting you spend $1100, 30 hours of your life and 4 plane changes just to get a great haircut.  Though I am certain there is someone out there who might consider it.  I’m just saying, if you happen to be in the neighborhood,  you can get an amazing   L.A. haircut while gazing at the Mediterranean sea.  Ahhh, it’s good to be on vacation.

Hair Lab
Defkalionos 1. Chania, Greece
+30.282.10.28260

Tag(smith)! You're it....

Destination weddings are truly magical.  Spectacular, in fact.  Especially if they are in another country.  And especially if someone other than the couple is planning the details.  In theory, all the couple really needs to do is get themselves to said destination with whatever wedding essentials are needed.  Do I speak from experience, oh yea.

So, Mr. Phou and I embark on our 4 leg expedition to Greece for our fairy tale wedding on the island of Crete.  Mr. Phou's parents took care of all the planning and coordinating , we just needed to arrive.  Piece of cake.  We packed everything we could possibly need, including of course wedding attire.  Per numerous recommendations, we decided to carry the wedding dress on board.  Naturally, lugging around a wedding dress elicits quite a bit of attention and well wishes from strangers.  For the most part, the stewards on each leg of our journey were gracious and kind and really helped us out findng room to store the dress on board. As a matter of fact, one particularly gleeful and incredibly chipper steward insisted that I store the wedding dress in the pilots cabin in first class.  The pilots cabin, on international flights, is where the pilot lays down to rest during the flight.  The vision of my beautiful dress, laid out across the pilots' bed,  in all of its' ruching and silky glory, while a sleepless pilot downed abundant amounts of caffeine, made me feel kinda special.

So, I left my perfect wedding dress in the pilots cabin and sheepishly walked through first class to the back of the bus, fully expecting that at any moment the steward would chase after me and  insist that my fiance and I gather our things and move up to first class to join our wedding dress.  But alas, no such luck.  Mr. Phou and I spent 8 hours cramped in the back while my wedding dress rested in peaceful slumber, recieving the royal treatment.  Oh well, at least someone enjoyed the flight.

When we finally arrived on Crete, exhausted and disheveled, we were none to pleased to find that somewhere along the journey one piece of our luggage had gone missing.  Yep, you guessed it. The brides'.  Uh huh....pretty much a brides worst nightmare come true.  So, here I am in Greece with nothing but the clothes on my back, that I have been wearing for the 3 day journey, and MY WEDDING DRESS.   But a "bridezilla" I was not, and this wasn't going to send me over the edge.  I just took a deep breath, and prayed.  Just a little fyi, Greece is not the best place to lose your luggage.  The right hand rarely knows what the left hand is doing and if you want to get something done, you've pretty much got to do it yourself.  It does help to be marrying a man who speaks Greek and will not take no for an answer.  So, naturally the luggage did turn up....a day or two later.

The moral of the story is this.  Rely on something a lot more sturdy than a flimsy little piece of paper that you scribble your address on and tie to your luggage.  Get yourself a luggage tag and ensure yourself that your info is securly fastened.  But you don't have to get just any ole luggage tag, get yourself a Tagsmith leather luggage tag and travel in style!  Our latest Phou Phind, to be inducted into our collection, are luggage tags handcrafted from  high quality Eco friendly American vegetable tanned leather and nickel plated brass hardware.  There are a variety of rich decadent colors to choose from and an array of hand stamped unique designs. I am not a fan of the ordinary, trust me, these tags are so chic, so cool and incredibly bad ass.  Read about the way each one is crafted and you'll feel in touch with a timeless artisan technique.  There is something Old World chic about them.  With so many colors and designs to choose from, I really had a Libra moment while perusing the selection.  I love these tags and I love them as gifts.  They are reasonably priced and a very thoughtful way to give a unique and cool gift to anyone for any occassion.

Not only will you travel with peace of mind knowing your info is securely fastened to your luggage, but you'll also be able to spot your suitcase, amongst the sea of luggage, as it comes rolling down the conveyor belt. They are such cool and stylish accessories that I am contemplating getting one to strap to the inside of my purse, computer bag or brief case to house a  handy business card.  And just in case lightening strikes twice and I lose my luggage yet again, I will remain calm knowing that my info is securely fastened to my gear and we will be reunited long before the jet lag wears off.  Bon voyage!

Tagsmith Leather Luggage Tags
http://www.tagsmithoriginals.com/

What are you doin' Saturday night?

As I have mentioned before, I am not a connoisseur of art.  I realize there is a whole culture, a whole global community of people who “speak” art, “understand” art, and “study” art. Not me.  My criteria is simple, if I like to look at it, then it’s art.  If, in my opinion, I think that I could have created it, or worse, a blind 3 year old could have, then to me it isn’t art.  I’m fairly certain there are hordes of people in the art community who would like to have a philosophical argument with me about this, but again, really not interested.  If its pretty, its art.

Back in October, I had written a post about an artist that I am crazy about.  His name is Michael Hayden and he uses a method called encaustic mixed media.   I know, I didn’t know what that was either.   It’s actually an ancient technique using melted beeswax, pigment and resin.   In short, it’s pretty.  Actually it’s quite beautiful and moving.  The colors he uses are vibrant and alive and the way each color mixes and blends with one another is mesmerizing.  Many of his pieces are spectacular displays of color explosions.  Others are a bit more subtle, but there always remains a cohesive thread so you know you are looking at a Michael Hayden.  But the icing on the cake for me, is that Michael adds texture to the pieces by introducing materials such as copper wire, glass, or hinges among other things.  So, these beautiful displays of color then ascend to another level with various tactile objects.  And yes, you can touch his art.  Frankly, it’s a necessity so you can really connect with it.  Ha, look at me,  I’m “speaking” art!  Go figure.

Well you’ll have to see it in person to believe it for yourself..  And luckily for you, you can.  This Saturday night, March 20th  Michael will be exhibiting his art in a gallery on Ocean Ave in Santa Monica.  This will prove to be a fun evening, I assure you.  With the weather heating up just in time for spring, enjoy your first warm Saturday evening perusing through ‘The Time Travelers’ Exhibit at The Jeanie Madsen Gallery.  Opening reception begins at 8:00 pm, with complimentary valet parking available until 10 pm.   The bonus is that you will have a chance to meet Michael Hayden, and if you "speak" art or even you don’t he will happily  discuss his art with you.  Plus he’s handsome, so it’s really a win win situation for you.  I have several favorites pieces, but I have just added a newly completed piece that I am currently pining away for and if you need me I’ll be claiming territory to it, it’s called JFK 2 LAX.  Spectacular!

Jeanie Madsen Gallery
1431 Ocean Ave.
Santa Monica, 90403
March 20th
8pm - 10pm