Los Angeles is a curious city—massive in population and geography, but broken down into different areas and neighborhoods like downtown, Hollywood, The Valley, Santa Monica, Beverly Hills, and the list goes on and on. From the 20th floor penthouse of Sunset Vine Tower, the tallest building in Hollywood, I was able to see the very vastness of this metropolis. From high up, looking out onto the great expanse, LA looks like one, big, glistening glare of brake lights and neon signs extended for miles and miles.

Deb Ris
www.washedup.us

DNA (image name DebRis DNA.jpg)
Size: 66″ x10″ x 10″
Materials: Washed up balloons, street found lamp. Mixed media.

Ballgown (image DebRis Ballgown.jpg)
(There were 2 images sent – one had my picture in it)
Size: 55″ x 16″ x 15″
Materials: Washed up balls & brackets, street found mannequin & construction mesh. Mixed Media.

Water Balloons (DebRis Water Balloons.jpg)
also accompanying video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fd_nf65vZ4
Size: 24″ x 24″ x 12″
Materials: All objects inside of tank were found washed up on the beach.

Patriot (DebRis Patriot.jpg)
Size: 6′ x 35″ x 3″
Materials: All firecrackers, cigarettes, streamers and fishing line were found left on the beaches and streets on July 5th. All fireworks were made in China.

Night—it can be a time of peaceful tranquility when all the world seems to be at rest; or it can be something more sinister—a time when nothing is as it seems. For many of us as children the darkness of the night presented a slew of frights. For me, a vivid imagination too often got the best of me as I saw a desk chair to be an angry lion or a bureau to be a looming monster once the lights turned off. Could it be the world transforms as day turns into night? Or are our minds just playing tricks on us? In any case, for whatever reason our perceptions of things seem to change at night—sometimes making the world more beautiful, other times more mysterious. A walk through the current exhibit at DNJ Gallery entitled “Night Lights” is what spurred these thoughts as the three artists on display present photographs of various scenes, all taken solely at night.

This cozy gallery lends itself perfectly to this sort of exhibition reception; it’s made for those who want to walk in, grab complimentary free wine and (awesome) cookies (seriously, try the cashew ones), and hit the two photograph-filled rooms to ogle, shop, and mingle. The crowd was mostly older and sophisticated, comprised of those that had a decorating budget and a taste for fine photography, and knew how to use them. I, with my nonexistent decorating budget, was just there to look.

It’s a beautiful Thursday afternoon in the Brentwood hills, peaceful and quiet as though I’m no longer in L.A. The Southwest-style clubhouse of the Riviera Country Club stands gallant and vast, like the home of a Columbian drug lord, and I’m here for the quarterly luncheon of the Saint John’s Retired Physician’s Association. In spite of my shadowy past as an amateur surgeon and street pharmacist, I am in fact here to interview the former Los Angeles District Attorney and now prominent photographer Gil Garcetti, who is today’s main speaker. But I’m sweating in the sun while taking these notes and must move toward the clubhouse. Suddenly, I wonder if there’s a no-denim policy here, as is customary among country clubs. I’m wearing blue jeans. The sign just outside the main entrance reads Proper Attire Required… Not sure exactly what that means.