Fullerton Fender Museum

Today I went to the Fender guitar museum. It was shut.

Bye bye Los Angeles

So I got some gigs under my belt, declined the offer of a job in the hostel, offered a show in Silverlake, which I'll be coming back for, fell in love for a few hours, saw a dead body, thought I was gonna be murdered in a trailer home, walked miles and miles and miles and miles.

LA I think I love you, you weird beast. I may not have a neck tattoo or a small white dog. I do not ride a skateboard or speak any Spanish. I am in the entertainment industry so I belong.

Its been 16 days time to find some new shiny jewels elsewhere.

Peace.

The gigs

I wanted to come out to America and see a small part of what there is on offer visually, aurally.. hey all the senses engaged yo! My love of playing live, singing my songs I can do whilst bussing it through California, Utah, Arizona, Colorado and Texas. No plans, nothing booked in. Free.

A wandering minstrel I.

There are an untold amount of open mic nights in Los Angeles. The positivity at these places is overwhelming. My deeply routed cynicism yearns to curl my lip and roll my eyes but its fucking sweet. The people just want to create to emote through different mediums whether it be the worst thing they are not just sitting there growing mould. COMMUNITY. Its becoming such an important word for me. And that is to be applauded. And boy am I doing lot of applauding. Clap clap clap. Funny Americans.
The open mics are a mix of comedy, spoken word and music. A couple of songs delivering it there and then. Conviction. I film my audiences, which will be going into a little film im piecing together of my trip. And boy so far what a trip.

La La Land

It all makes sense. Or perhaps not.LA has an incredibly high number of mentally ill and homeless people. The lady on the bus who showed me different angles on which her wig fitted her head, the man who wore a tea stained white suit; maybe he was the man from del monte perhaps, who sweetly whistled the British anthem to me. A man from Arkansaw who tried to grope me. The man who hid behind a fucking bin touching himself while I awaited a bus sneering obscenties at me. These are just a handful of people I've encountered in two weeks. Two weeks! It's sad, its been scary, its been a joy to talk to these weird and wonderful people who live off the land. Is something being done? Do they flock to the west to be in the sun from East sides harsh winters? Only time will tell as I continue around the US.

A plan is hatched

Right! Spend nothing, get a hostel job, gig every night. Okay? Yeah got it.

Preparing for the unknown

It's a peculiar thing waiting to leave your routine and familiar surrondings. Suddenly phone, oyster, keys before you leave the front door changes into a long list and battling indecision on whether you really need to take your gold sparkly top or pot of glitter (I took both). Thoughts of not bringing any technology is now long gone and I've started a blog for you, yes you handsome devil.
So after a right old cock up of not getting a return flight from the US resulting in panic and loss of precious money saved for this trip, I arrive in LA. Los Angeles. Where dreams are made and magic is created. Ahem.