Map Quest…

When people first began to record the world on globes and charts, mapmakers sometimes filled in unexplored or dangerous regions with frightening pictures of mythical creatures. Fueled by rumored encounters between sailors and sea monsters, the imagination didn’t have far to jump between writing, “Hey, we don’t know what’s here,” and, “Here be dragons.”

In modern times, the technology and knowledge available to cartographers is exceedingly advanced, but Bill Gilbert believes that maps continue to lead us astray, showing us a world that doesn’t accurately reflect nature’s reality.

In his current exhibit, Physiocartographies, at the Nevada Museum of Art, Gilbert attempts to show what he refers to as the disjunction between our perception of the terrain, represented by the maps, and the actual terrain.

“I try to walk the grid,” the co-founder and director of the Land Art Program at the University of New Mexico explained in a recent phone conversation, “One hour north, east, south and west.”

During the U.S. expansion into the West, the government carved the territory outside the states into neat little 160-acre squares with right angles that defied the natural terrain. The resulting U.S. Geological Survey maps, and these grids, form the base layer of Gilbert’s art. On top of the maps, he uses GPS tracking to record his movements and experiences as he attempts to follow the borders of the grid.

Included in Physiocartographies are “York Ranch” and “Wendover,” each named after the USGS maps Gilbert used. Across “York Ranch” Gilbert wrote the sights, sounds and tactile sensations he encountered walking the grid. “Wendover” uses an audio recording Gilbert made during his journey to add the sensory elements usually absent from a map. He encounters natural and man-made obstacles not clearly defined on a map.

“We all have these patterns of how we absorb the world,” says Gilbert. We’re just barraged with information, and we work out a habitual way to navigate. We do things at high speed, we multitask, and we’re very goal-oriented. It’s just the way our society is.”

Our society has an unprecedented access to information, and it’s forcing us to alter how we interact with the world. Location-based social media, such as Foursquare, Pepsi Loot and Loopt, encourages people to place themselves on the map, literally. Participants can use smart phones to virtually “check in” at restaurants, shops or points of interest and earn in-game and real world rewards while instantly notifying their network of friends what they’re doing. Along with GPS navigation, reliance on maps is extending into all aspects of contemporary life. However, if maps are an interpretation of the world we live in, these forms of social media and satellite-guided directions are only extrapolations of an already abstract idea—the dragons of our time.

Gilbert doesn’t see the rise of technology as a clear-cut danger, though. “I’m trying to find a way not to pit nature against culture, earth against technology. What I’m trying to do is find a synthesis here. It’s 2010. Technology absolutely permeates our lives; it doesn’t have to diminish our awareness of the environment.”

In the past dragons were born from ignorance. Today, they fill the maps not from a lack of information but from too much of it. Instead of using our eyes and ears to view what’s around us, tiny screens that never leave our side deliver, digest and discard the world in seconds. Ask Gilbert how to pierce the soft underbelly of the scaly beast, and he’ll tell you to take a hike—it doesn’t matter in which direction. Just go for a walk and take a look around.

Sex and Loathing in Las Vegas…

“We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold …”

And thank god for that. My back had been killing me since I boarded the plane for Las Vegas, and I was not looking forward to lugging my bags around without an anti-inflammatory. I was heading to Sin City for the Adult Entertainment Expo, and my bags only faintly resembled the luggage Hunter S. Thompson and Oscar Zeta Acosta felt necessary to take with them in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. My tame bag of drugs included 48 Ibuprofen, 16 chewable Pepto-Bismol tablets, half a bottle of Tums, and eight caps of Dayquil—all stuffed into a Ziploc emblazoned with Spider-Man’s mug.

Still, I felt prepared. The Vegas of today isn’t Thompson’s Vegas of 1971. Hell, it’s not even the Vegas of a decade ago. The family-friendly Vegas pushed on us a few years back ended in a broken marriage and sure enough the Harley-riding stepfather, “What happens in Vegas …” showed up. Now frat boys and families who never got the memo wander the over-priced Strip, neither group comfortable with the other’s presence. However, the one aspect of Vegas that has never, will never, change is the gratuitous sex—and I was headed into the cleavage of the beast.

Conventional wisdom

The Adult Entertainment Expo is the largest adult entertainment trade convention in the world, pulling in just over 22,000 attendees this year. Walking through the Sands Expo toward the large double doors that led into the convention was like strolling a twisted red carpet. Suits playing hooky from the nearby Consumer Electronics Show lined the entryway, snapping pictures of any actresses coming or going from work. It’s all in preparation for the thousands of flashes that were about to greet me.

If it wasn’t for the breasts, I could almost convince myself that I had wandered into any other convention in the world. Booths created rows in a large hall, bigger companies took up more space, and I could always tell where the free goodies were by the size of the crowd. Endless handouts and PR reps bogged me down for hours while I muscled my way through the crowds. Then I turned a corner, only to run face-first into a seven-foot bucking penis. Straddled by girls in bikinis, the penis acted as a phallic mechanical bull, thrusting wildly, and slamming woman after woman into the ground while the crowd cheered.

Rows of vibrators, strap-ons, $6,000 life-size realistic sex dolls, Obama condoms, bondage gear andpillows with indentations in them so women with implants can sleep comfortably on their stomachs—it was enough to make Aphrodite and Adephagia throw up their hands in surrender.

Everywhere, breasts accosted me. Stars signed autographs, video monitors ran porn, and 40-foot posters proclaimed the release of the latest XXX parody. Within five minutes, my brain shut down, and tits became almost boring. Granted I didn’t want to blink for fear of missing a pair, but even the sight of a gaggle of female porn stars snacking on hot dogs in the cafeteria did nothing for me.

It’s with this blasé attitude that I found myself staring down a wall filled with prosthetic vaginas. I thought back on the Expos of years past. Even as late as 2008, I could recall an Expo that took up two floors and was overflowing with exhibitors, porn stars, fans and all the free DVDs one could handle. Now, reduced in size, the convention felt more like a frivolous celebration of the products than a business convention. The suits that used to pop up throughout the aisles were largely gone, and those that remained stuck out like the cheerleader’s father at a college party.

“These will get you rock hard. Last for hours,” a bald salesman for Stiff 4 Hours yelled out at me when I came within 10 feet of his booth. “Best there …” He continued before trailing off at the sight of my credentials. “Oh, press.”

At the sight of two women walking his way, this time clearly sporting credentials signaling they owned an adult bookstore, he ran after them promising incredible deals if they stocked his product. While some tried to earn a living, most people came for the T ’n’ A. In addition to the seven-foot mechanical member, AEE also delivered Slick Chix female oil wrestling, a series of naughty stage games for fans, and professional and amateur pole-dancing contests. Even with waning attendance over the years, AEE still filled the halls thanks to the overwhelming power of sex.

Casino royale with cheese

Casinos have tapped this vein as their latest effort to counter the difficult economic climate. On a previous trip to AEE, I stumbled upon an isolated portion of the Mandalay Bay casino called “The Party Pit.” Comprised of a series of gaming tables surrounding a small stage complete with flashing lights, a stripper pole, and, of course, a scantily clad woman dancing to the current Top 40, it mixed the two staples of Nevada: Sex and gambling.

This time, two years later, on a Thursday night, I found myself aimlessly wandering Luxor’s empty food court looking for signs of life. At 11 p.m. on a Thursday night, the shops stood closed, most restaurants were locked down, and only a few members of the cleanup crew remained. The casino downstairs, while not barren, was patchy at best. With one exception: The Luxor’s very own Party Pit surrounded by gamblers and tourists snapping photos. In only a few short years, seemingly every casino on the strip had emulated Mandalay Bay’s mash-up of women and cards.

It was easy to see why sex had infiltrated the casinos. Las Vegas, as a gambling town, was stagnant. Just one block off The Strip, rundown motels punctuated For Sale signs sitting atop empty lots that amounted to nothing more than fenced-in sections of the desert. Everything about Las Vegas—gambling, big shows and weddings—had become a cliché of itself. Losing a fortune on craps because you don’t understand the rules, Wayne Newton, and getting married by Elvis haven’t changed in 50 years. Vegas had to sex them up: The Party Pit, Cirque du Soleil’s naughty Zoomanity, and a wedding reception for two porn stars—even if it was by invite only.

Some salacious version of Lady Luck scored some friends and me an invite to the Eric John and Vicki Chase wedding reception at the Palazzo’s Sushi Samba. After receiving the approval of a large gentleman named Vinnie the Snakemannn, we entered to music pounding through the air and a crowd seething around the bride and groom. In the booths, bottles of Grey Goose appeared as though the servers were stocking BevMo’s empty shelves. A few quick searches on our iPhones identified which women in the room we did indeed recognize from our computer screens at home.

“You just touched a Goonie,” my friend Jess Parker yelled. I turned in time to see Corey Feldman disappear behind two bodyguards that put our doorman friend Vinnie to shame. The presence of Edgar Frog invigorated the party even more and as women started to flash the crowd, the bar began to mirror the same scene I continually came across in Vegas. Wherever there were women acting provocatively, the crowds would appear.

Around 4 a.m., Feldman left the club and, as everyone knows, it’s not a party without a Goonie. Shuffling out of the hotel, we hailed a cab and zoned out in euphoria and exhaustion. Our cab driver tried to overcharge us and I had to threaten to call the cops to get our money back. As he peeled out of the Luxor driveway sending a valet running to the curb, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. If he’d had a nice pair of tits, I might have let him keep the money.

Adventures in Geekdom…

It’s 5:37 a.m. on a Friday, and I can barely shuffle forward through the airport-security line. That large Red Bull I downed for breakfast opens only one of my eyes, but some guys near the back of the line utter two words and I’m wide awake: “Resto Druid.”

Instantly, I know they’ll also be on my flight headed to Orange County for Blizzcon, an annual gaming convention put on by Blizzard Entertainment, best known for the hugely popular multiplayer online game World of Warcraft.

Blizzard fans are true geeks incarnate. Fanatically devoted to the brand, these gamers immerse themselves in fantasy worlds such as Diablo, Starcraft and, of course, World of Warcraft, which alone boasts 11 million players worldwide. Some 26,000 geeks will attend this year’s Blizzcon.

Accordingly, over the past decade, the general public has paid increasingly more attention to a budding geek culture. Fashion adopted nerd glasses and Hollywood’s highest-grossing films have been titles such as Star Trek, Harry Potter, Spider-Man and Transformers. Now, it’s not only cool to own an iPod, it’s also a status symbol.

Geek is chic.

But while some see this as a chance for the trampled-on meek to rise up, the geek revolution likely will not be televised—simply because there will be no revolution.

You see, the mainstream media only is interested in a facade of true geek culture—the equivalent of wearing a Darth Vader costume on Halloween. In reality, true geeks have distanced themselves even more from status quo.

Blizzcon speaks to this fringe-geek way of life: passionate and awkward men and women who demand something mainstream society can never provide—and if mainstream society offered it, they wouldn’t even want it.

Consider Manzi Deyoung, who’s at Blizzcon dressed as High Inquisitor Whitemane, a boss from the Scarlet Monastery dungeon in World of Warcraft. Her costume, which took roughly 120 hours to construct, is dead on in its accuracy. And her combination of red thigh-high boots, elbow-length gloves and large phallic staff isn’t lost on the fanboys, either. People snap her picture and compliment the costume’s attention to detail. Deyoung effortlessly shifts into the same poses that Whitemane would strike in the game.

“I definitely think that WoW has something unique to it,” Deyoung says while chilling outside the Anaheim Convention Center. “More so than even Star Trek, WoW has a distinct language. You can make a joke about Vulcans and people are going to get it.”

A new nerd language is a means for geeks to offset mainstream culture. While playing World of Warcraft, gamers forgo English in favor of a watered-down language of abbreviations. Specifically, most gamers talk in code, “1337” or “leetspeak,” a language of typographical shortcuts that uses deliberately incorrect spelling and grammar.

A typical chat message during World of Warcraft, for instance, might read, “LFM DPS 1Healz no shammy 4 H HOL.” In English, this means: “I’m in a group that is looking for more people. We need one person who does damage per second and one healer—but no Shamans—who want to do the Heroic version of Halls of Lightning.”

Geek speak also carries over into real life.

“Are you Horde?” someone at Blizzcon asks, sliding an arm around my shoulder. After loading up on overpriced beers from the bar, my friends and I made our way to a rooftop pool, where hundreds of people cram into lounge chairs and even flower beds. We also discover Sippy, said stranger with his arm on my back.

“Are you for the Horde?” he repeats, wanting to know which side I’m on.

“Alliance,” I reply, hesitantly.

“Dude. That. Doesn’t. Matter,” he says. “Whether you’re Horde or Alliance, we’re all here for the same reason: The World. The World, man.

“I still like you,” he reassures before stumbling off.

Inside the convention, which is filled with spiraling colored lights and huge banners, a Zealot on stilts, Night Elf Druids, Draenei, Boomkin and a Mistress of Pain—a spider-woman who would eventually win the convention’s costume contest—roam the halls along with people of all ages, and even families.

“What a lot of people looking in from the outside don’t understand is the social elements to these games,” says Todd Pawlowski, who is attending Blizzcon with his wife, Cheri, and his 10-year-old triplets: Jordan, Caitlin and Lukas.

“The kids brought me into [World of Warcraft]. I actually took a job with Blizzard because of what I saw in their game,” he explains. Pawlowski moved his family from the Bay Area to Irvine, in Orange County, where he now works as Blizzard’s vice president of customer service.

“I know grandparents who keep in touch with their grandchildren through Warcraft. Friends and families stay connected using these games.”

Some friends take things to the extreme.

Brandon Kunimura and his pals Jin Kim and Paul Hsu wear cow outfits and carry giant weapons—an homage to a secret level in the Diablo series—and women at the convention flock toward the herd. Jenny Harris, dressed as the Grand Widow Faerlina, even snuggles up to take a photo with the cows.

“It’s about the quality of the game,” explains one giant cow. “There is a depth to the stories that you’ve come to expect.” And it’s the depth that nurtures camaraderie.

“I started when I was unemployed. I had to kill things,” explains Arabella Benson, whose Warlock hood falls across her face as she bends to pick up a piece of weapon off the ground. “Then I started meeting people in the game, forming friendships. I got into the story and joined a guild. I’ve become friends in real life with some of these people.”

World of Warcraft is like Facebook on crack: Fans embrace it to a degree that the mainstream can never keep up with—or even accept. Rare game items sell for nearly $1,000 on eBay. And the penchant for dressing up in costume is like the Oakland Raiders’ black hole times 10. And the fans vary from young to old.

A boy who can’t be older than 14 steps in my path.

“This is my dad’s room. We’re Horde,” he informs.

“Good to know. For the Horde!” I masquerade, setting off repeated shouts.

“This is my dad’s room. We’re Horde,” he reminds as I walk off.

Inside the room, heated debate over weapons, dungeons and quests punctuates a cacophony of cheers and garbled 1337 speak. A beer-pong table grabs my attention, however, so an Alliance friend and I challenge two members of the Horde to a contest.

The room becomes silent and all eyes focus on our game. I suddenly wonder if Sippy’s love-to-all attitude perhaps is not universal. An odd sensation, perhaps Crips vs. Bloods mixed with Star Wars vs. Star Trek, permeates the room, but the important lesson to take away is that we, the Alliance, beat the Horde. And beat them bad.

One of the last things I remember at the convention is hearing Michael Morhaime, president and co-founder of Blizzard, say something while standing over us in the hotel bar while playing the World of Warcraft card game at 4 a.m.

“This is great. Can I get a picture?” he asks. For nongeeks, this is the equivalent of President Barack Obama wanting to shake your hand. We barely have time to strike a pose, let alone bow and chant “We’re not worthy” before he’s gone.

One thing I learned from Blizzcon is that this rich and unique world may seem trivial, even ridiculous, but geeks will protect it. And with every forward step mainstreamers take, geeks will retreat three steps back, continually building upon a culture that most don as a costume once a year.

Geek Chic…

At 5:37 a.m. on a Friday, I’m barely able to focus my attention on anything besides clumsily shuffling forward so that I don’t hold up the airport security line. The large can of Red Bull I downed for breakfast only managed to open one of my eyes, but two words coming from a group of guys at the back of the line snapped me awake: “Resto Druid.”

Instantly, I knew they would be boarding the same flight as me. I was headed south to Orange County, where the Blizzard Entertainment gaming convention, Blizzcon, takes place every year. Best known for the massive multiplayer online (MMO) game, World of Warcraft, Blizzard fans are the definition of true geeks. Fanatically devoted in their loyalty to the brand, Blizzard gamers immerse themselves in the fantasy worlds of Diablo, Starcraft, and World of Warcraft (WoW), which alone boasts 11 million players worldwide.

The Resto Druid is a type of playable WoW character. The one behind me was among 26,000 other players on their way to Blizzcon. Players who represented what it meant to be a geek: passionate but awkward men and women who demand something the mainstream could never give them—and if the mainstream offered it, they wouldn’t want it.

Within the last 10 years, geek culture has enjoyed an unprecedented level of interest from the general populace. Chic fashion has adopted nerd glasses; the highest grossing films have been titles such as Star Trek, Harry Potter, Spider-Man and Transformers; and not only has it become cool to own an iPod, it’s a status symbol. The New York Times has claimed that the geeks have inherited the Earth. Some see this as a chance for the stereotypically trampled-on meek to rise up and enjoy the spotlight. But the geek revolution will not be televised, simply because there will be no revolution. What the mainstream has adopted is a façade of true geek culture—the equivalent of wearing a Darth Vader costume to sell commercials. In reality, as the mainstream continues to yell that it’s geek at heart, it forces the true geeks to distance themselves even more from those who are proclaiming kinship.

Games people play

“I definitely think that WoW has something unique to it,” says Manzi Deyoung outside the Anaheim Convention Center. Deyoung is dressed as High Inquisitor Whitemane, a boss from the Scarlet Monastery dungeon in WoW. Her costume, which took her roughly 120 hours to make, is dead-on its accuracy. The combination of red thigh-high boots, elbow length gloves, and a large phallic staff isn’t lost on the fanboys. As people come up to snap a picture of her or compliment the detail of her costume, Deyoung effortlessly shifts into the same pose that the in-game character strikes. She knows exactly what she is doing.

“More so than even Star Trek, WoW has a distinct language to it,” says Deyoung. “You can make a joke about Vulcans, and people are going to get it.”

WoW players forego their native tongue when in game—and sometimes out of game—in favor of a language that relies on brevity, code, 1337 (leetspeak, a language full of typographical shortcuts that uses intentionally incorrect spelling and grammar), and game references. A typical chat message seen in the game may read, “LFM DPS 1Healz no shammy 4 H HOL.”

In proper English, the player is saying, “I’m in a group that is looking for more people. We need one person who does damage per second and one healer—but no Shamans—who want to do the Heroic version of Halls of Lightning.”

A unique language isn’t entirely an exclusive technique; it’s a defensive tactic to protect what the players have invested in with their time and money. When you break it down, WoW players are snobs—no different from wine, music, art or sports snobs. Wine snobs say tannins, WoW players say Tanaris.

And, oh, how they have invested. Inside the convention halls, darkened and filled with spiraling colored lights and huge banners, Deyoung isn’t the only attendee in full garb. A Zealot on stilts, Night Elf Druids, Draenei, Boomkin, and Mistress of Pain (a spider-woman who would go on to win the con’s costume contest) all roam the halls. Fans are drawing inspiration from a canon that goes further than any other medium could hope to accomplish. An MMO game allows players to control where they go and what they do in a world. As a result, fans demand extensive storylines not just for major characters but for minor characters, as well. When was the last time Law and Order gave you more than a three-minute back-story on the corpse that drives the episode? In WoW, you’d be able to explore the story of the deceased, his family, friends and his killer. As a result, people can spend countless hours exploring the fictitious world. It may seem isolationist, but these video games have more in common with Facebook and Dungeons & Dragons than Pong and Mario.

“What a lot of people looking in from the outside don’t understand is the social elements to these games,” says Todd Pawlowski, as he takes a break in the lobby. Pawlowski is attending Blizzcon with his wife, Cheri, and his 10-year-old triplets, Jordan, Caitlin and Lukas. “The kids brought me into the game. I actually took a job with Blizzard because of what I saw in their game.” Pawlowski moved his family from the San Francisco area to Irvine, right outside of Los Angeles, where he now works as the Vice President of Customer Service for the company. “The social aspect isn’t only in events like this. I know grandparents who keep in touch with their grandchildren through Warcraft. Friends and families stay connected using these games.”

“I play a Night Elf Hunter, a Night Elf Druid, and a Draenei Mage,” Caitlin chimes in.

“What about your mom, what does she play?” I ask.

“She doesn’t even like video games. She says they’ll hurt your eyes,” says Caitlin, as I feel glad I’m not wearing my glasses.

“I love the social element of the game,” Todd continues. “It’s like a sports organization. When I’m standing in line, I hear the emotional connection people have to these games. During the developer panels, you see how emotionally connected people are to their characters, and it’s understandable. People have a lot invested in their characters.”

That investment is not a one-way street. “It’s about the quality of the game,” a giant cow explains to me. “There is a depth to the stories that you’ve come to expect.” Brandon Kunimura and two of his friends, Jin Kim and Paul Hsu, are wearing cow outfits and carrying giant weapons—an homage to a secret level in the Diablo series—and the ladies are flocking to them. Jenny Harris, dressed as the Grand Widow Faerlina, snuggles up to take a photo with the cows.

“Cows are the new Night Elfs,” Kunimura laughs as the flash goes off.

“I started when I was unemployed. I had to kill things,” says Arabella Benson. She fumbles with a staff, her Warlock hood falling across her face as she bends to pick up another piece of the useless weapon. “Nothing was happening elsewhere. Then I started meeting people in the game, forming friendships. I got into the story and joined a guild. I’ve become friends in real life with some of these people.”

For many, like Benson, Facebook is social networking, but WoW is social networking with a better user interface and a much more addictive nature. Like a sporting event against the rival team, fans embrace their passions on a level that the mainstream could never keep up with. Even the economy within the game bleeds over to the real world—rare in-game items can sell for upwards of $800 on eBay. Fans of popular “geek” shows like Heroes, Chuck and even Battlestar Galactica are geek-lite next to WoW players. And someone was about to give these bastards alcohol.

Revenge of the …

“Are you Horde?” The arm suddenly slung around my shoulder demanded. After loading up on overpriced beers from the bar, my friends and I had made our way to the rooftop pool, where we found hundreds of people crammed in lounge chairs and flowerbeds. We also found Sippy, the stranger whose arm was currently wrapped around my shoulder.

“Are you for the Horde?” He repeats, wanting to know which side of the in-game war I represent.

“Alliance,” I proclaim hesitantly.

“Dude. That. Doesn’t. Matter. Whether you’re Horde or Alliance, we’re all here for the same reason. The World. The World, man. It doesn’t matter you’re not Horde. I still like you.”

“Thanks, man. I like you, too.”

Sippy stumbles off, and I head to the open patio doors of a hotel room with a friend trailing behind. A boy who can’t be older than 14 and is either extremely tired or drunk steps in our path as we try to enter the room.

“This is my dad’s room. We’re Horde,” he informs my chest.

“Good to know. For the Horde!” I masquerade, setting off repetitious shouts.

“This is my dad’s room. We’re Horde,” he reminds me before walking off. Inside the room is a cacophony of cheers and garbled 1337-speak, punctuated with heated debates over weapons, dungeons and quests. However, the beer pong table draws my attention. My friend and I walk over to the moderator and I proudly announce, “We, the Alliance, challenge two members of the Horde to a beer pong contest.”

As the room becomes silent and all eyes focus on me, I suddenly wonder if Sippy’s love-to-all attitude is universal for all members of the Horde.

“You’re on.” Those words, along with a lot of shouting, high-fives, and a definitive victory for the Alliance, are the last thing I remember before finding three friends and myself in the hotel lobby bar at 4 a.m. Now devoid of patrons, the tables are cleaned and free for us to lay out the World of Warcraft card game.

“This is great,” the voice from above says. In high school, these words would have preceded a beating by the school bully or at the least ridicule from the football team. However, Blizzcon is a geek’s domain, and the voice was coming from Michael Morhaime, president and co-founder of Blizzard. “In the hotel lobby bar playing the WoW card game at 4 a.m. Can I get a picture?”

For non-geeks, this is like Barry Bonds or Donald Trump wanting your autograph. We barely have time to strike a pose, let alone bow and chant, “We’re not worthy” before he’s gone.

Tired and full from a hangover-induced IHOP binge, I limp back to the Orange County airport. Pressing deadlines from the coming work week remind me it’s time to return to the real world. A world that doesn’t see a problem with Cameron Diaz and Guy Ritchie turning Comic-Con into a photo op. A world that claims to love geeks but still blocks our work computers from accessing G4, Engadget and IGN while the bosses surf for kitten videos on YouTube and update their Facebook status to “Call your mom.” The mainstream has scratched the surface of what it means to be a geek, but they’ll never be able to embrace the complete lifestyle. Every forward step they take, geeks will retreat three steps to keep their passions, full of rich stories and player interactions, safe from being watered down for the masses.

Share and Share Alike

Children learn to cover their mouths when they cough, to not disrupt others by talking during movies, and to share their toys with other boys and girls. But somewhere along the line, we all lose the interest in sharing. According to two Berkeley attorneys, if Americans shared more of their material goods and time with each other, we could all make a significant dent in the economic and environmental problems facing our households and the world.

“There are so many things that each of us have and use that could be shared,” said Emily Doskow, the coauthor with Janelle Orsi of the forthcoming book The Sharing Solution. In their book, which comes out in June, the authors provide a how-to approach to forming sharing arrangements. These arrangements can help people organize a small or large group to share material goods, responsibilities, or basic needs.

The book addresses what someone should consider before entering into such agreements, the legal logistics, and how to ensure that everyone gets the most out of sharing. Small material items, such as rakes or even suits, may require less legal paperwork than cohabitation or forming a neighborhood babysitting co-op, but both situations can be beneficial on multiple levels, Doskow believes.

“The way that our society is using resources is not going to work out in the long haul,” Doskow said. “The amount of stuff we consume is not workable. So any solution, whether it’s recycling, reusing, or sharing, makes a dent and produces a positive good.” The authors believe that sharing can address the so-called triple bottom line by reaping financial, environmental, and personal and social benefits. Orsi sees these goals as a great place to start for people who know they want to share but don’t know how to begin.

Say two neighbors both need a new lawnmower. If they were to pool their money and buy one communal lawnmower to share, they could hit all three of the bullet points. Each neighbor would save 50 percent on the cost of the mower, the manufacturer would use half the resources and energy it would have taken to build two machines, and the neighbors become closer, strengthening a community bond.

“People can just start to look at what their needs are,” Orsi said. “If their goals are to save money, then they can look at what’s costing them the most money in their lives. If their goal is to live sustainably, they can look at their carbon footprint. Or maybe they’re just looking to meet more people or have a sense of community.”

Orsi, who shares office space with Doskow and four other lawyers, goes one step further and envisions sharing as a means of meeting people’s basic needs. “In my ideal world, the world’s resources would be distributed so much differently,” she said. “Many of people’s material needs aren’t being met. We have so many resources; the way they’re distributed is inefficient and causes a lot of suffering in the world. A car sits in a parking lot all day while you’re at work, or a vacuum cleaner is used only once a month. We have all these resources sitting there and people’s needs just are not being met.”

So what keeps us from sharing? When did we lose the ability to share a cookie? A lot of it probably has to do with fear. “Worrying about people encroaching too much on your personal boundaries deters a lot of us from wanting to do more things cooperatively,” Orsi said. The Sharing Solution doesn’t spend an extensive amount of time on personal space and conflict resolution because the authors focus on building strong communication skills and developing a clear understanding of any potential disagreements. These preventative measures, they say, open the doors to a more trusting and honest relationship.

“The more we share, the more we trust each other, and society will become a safer place,” Orsi said. “If we have people coming in and out of our garage to borrow a barbecue, we’re going to be surrounded by people we can trust. People in neighborhoods will be that much more connected to each other, and it makes the world a much safer, gentler, and more humane place to live.”

To a die-hard American capitalist taught to covet promotions, wealth, and material goods, the word “socialism” may come to mind. However, sharing is the basis for many of America’s biggest capitalist endeavors. Every year we pay state and federal taxes for the maintenance of our highways. Water, electricity, and gas are all public utilities that we as a society jointly pay for each month. Monopoly, the unabashed cheerleader of capitalism, didn’t forget to put in squares for Water Works and Income Tax, after all. Still, there’s something deeply ingrained in our society that causes us hesitation when it comes to communal endeavors. “Our culture itself is so structured for people to be insular,” Doskow said. “We’re not necessarily isolated because often we’re insular with other people.”

The book will be full of worksheets, sample agreements, and resources for people who want to become better sharers, and for those who never forgot their playground lessons. What readers won’t find is preaching about how to save the planet and lighten your household budget at the expense of gas-guzzling Hummers and imported Italian handbags.

“When I talk about The Sharing Solution, the vast majority of people are excited,” Doskow said. “But I come across people who say ‘Absolutely not! I couldn’t possibly share my stuff. I don’t want to have to communicate with a neighbor when I want to use my own grill.’ My response is ‘Fair enough, not everyone has to share.’” The attorneys stress to do what works for you. Doskow, who shares baseball season tickets and is part of a neighborhood work group that pools resources to enable basic home repairs, understands that people have limits.

“Nobody can touch my Easter candy,” she said.

Small Space: The Final Frontier…

Our world is not growing–but our population is. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the global population has doubled in the past 40 years, and though the agency predicts growth will slow in the next 40 years, it still foresees an increase of 50 percent by the year 2050. We’re going from roughly 6.7 billion people to 9.5 billion people, and we’re running out of places to put them. Space is becoming as valuable as wood and oil.

Space in town is especially dear. This year, for the first time in history, more human beings live in cities than in the country; by 2050, 70 percent of those 9.5 billion souls will be city dwellers. So it’s no surprise that many new developments are taking the form of multistory, compact condominiums, single bedroom apartments and lofts. In the city of Santa Cruz, hundreds of new condominiums are coming online in the next 15 years. In a society that has come to expect family rooms, livings rooms, gourmet kitchens, multiple bedrooms and bathrooms alongside a garage and perhaps a study, transitioning to modest living environments can be quite a challenge. But little doesn’t have to cramp your style. You can still think big and act small. Herein, a few tips on pulling off the masterful illusion of living large in a small place.

Living Large in Small Spaces

Banish clutter! Buy big furniture! Back away from the Ikea entrance!

By Matthew Craggs

 

Downtown Santa Cruz’s newest community is at 2030 N. Pacific. These new condominiums range from roughly 800 square feet for a one bedroom/one bath to 1,500 square feet for a three bedroom/two bath. From the standpoint of square footage, the addition of two extra bedrooms and another bathroom doesn’t even double the size of the condo. These are places built with size in mind.

Many prospective buyers interested in Santa Cruz’s new developments will be of a younger demographic. Making their way from living with parents or friends or in a dorm room, these buyers are not only switching up their living arrangements but are also probably adjusting from a college or part-time job schedule to the proverbial 9 to 5 with all of the adult responsibilities. This could be the first chance to decorate and design something they can truly call their own. A small living space may have been the norm for many years, but the differences between living somewhere and making a home for yourself quickly become apparent.

If you’ve ever walked within 100 feet of a college campus, you’ve undoubtedly heard someone gushing about the wonders of Ikea. The Swedish superstore is a favorite for anyone who has ever needed to furnish a room for under $100 (and the closest one to Santa Cruz, in East Palo Alto, is hands-down the most multiculti experience available to Central Californians without boarding a plane).

Space-conscious themselves, Ikea stores even have mock-ups of living spaces ranging from 500 to 900 square feet. These floor models are entire rooms that take the guesswork out of mixing and matching and making decisions. But a trip to Ikea can in fact be a grueling waste of time. While it seems like a no-brainer, Santa Cruz interior designer Lorri Kershner cautions against blindly buying into the Ikea appeal.

“They’re selling products, remember,” she says. “I would rather have a great hand-me-down than five or six inexpensive things that’ll fall apart in a few years. It’s a much better idea to pull something out of your grandmother’s garage.

“There’s nothing wrong with hand-me-downs,” she adds. “They give the room a lot of character.

“After talking with Kershner for a few minutes, it becomes evident that the thing to remember when furnishing a small living space is: less is more. Kershner advises being very selective.

“Try to get three or four large pieces of functional furniture instead of a lot of little pieces, because those tend to clutter the room. It’s the best parlor trick in the world; it will actually visually enlarge the space.”

The principal of L. Kershner Design believes that the more you give an eye to look at, the busier your eye and the room will be. Imagine standing in an empty room with nothing in sight. Now imagine that same room packed with boxes in columns creating a maze. As you walk through the maze, how much smaller would that room seem to you? Your eye travels a room the same way. Every couch, chair, table, bookshelf, television and lamp takes away the empty space that provides a sense of openness.

The key to minimizing the amount of furniture you place in a room is to make each item multifunctional. If your dining room and your living room share the same section of the house–this is true in many compact condos–Kershner suggests using a large coffee table as your dining room table. Ottomans or cushions can be stored underneath, pulled out for dining and once again concealed after the meal. Two people looking to cozy up with a glass of wine at a party, she points out, could easily share a large ottoman.

Skylight’s the Limit
When choosing your big furniture pieces, consider not only the floor space but the ceiling as well. “A lot of these [condos] have high ceilings, which make the space look bigger but tend to give echoes,” Kershner warns.

To lead the eye up toward the space, do what she describes as “staying vertical.” Taller, skinnier bookshelves will save wall space and force the eye up toward the ceiling. To soften the echoes, rugs will act as sound dampeners–but once again, choose one or two large rugs and keep away from smaller ones that will clutter the floor.

Aside from the physical clutter of the room, you should also consider the perceived clutter. Light and color are both major culprits in making a small room seem like an even smaller living space. When looking to rent or buy a property, Kershner suggests paying attention to the location of the room’s windows.

“If the windows face north or west, you might consider looking elsewhere. Northern lighting is somewhat flat, and the west is where the sun sets, so you get a lot of glare and end up keeping the windows covered. Good natural light is huge. It’s going to warm up a space and seem bigger.”

In addition, natural lighting will lessen the need for artificial lighting that can run up the electricity bill and splatter the room with lamps. Like mirrors, windows open up a room by providing perceived depth beyond the surrounding walls, but “if you’re going to do any sort of drapery, make sure it extends to the floor and not just the window pane. It’ll make the window seem more elegant and larger, and it has some acoustic benefits,” Kershner says.

Powder Room Rules
These rules work well for living rooms and bedrooms, but ironically, they’re almost useless in the tiniest rooms in the house: the kitchen and bathroom. This is where you’re going to have a myriad of items just waiting to clutter your small space. From cucumbers and kitchen shears to cucumber eye mask and toenail clippers, it’s a war zone.

However, prepare to hoist your Swedish flags: the time for Ikea is nigh. “You have to keep it very organized, and you have to find good storage options. … It’s really all about organization when you have a small kitchen–and then Ikea does come in handy because they have some great kitchen organizers,” Kershner concedes. Organization rules supreme in the bathroom as well, but the interior designer believes it’s also a place to splurge.

“[The] thing about bathrooms is they’re really the last site of cultural ritual. Bathing really is a ritual. Whatever you do when you get up in the morning or before you go to bed at night is a ritual. Dining is a social ritual, but bathing is a personal ritual. It should be a warm inviting place. I really believe that. Have some candles or a really nice rug.”

To make your small space work, it takes a little more attention to what you put into it. When you realize your space is limited, taking a conservative approach to the design of your home just makes sense. You use less furniture and knickknacks and optimize the items you do choose to employ, all the while taking advantage of natural resources such as light and color.

Now, if only we could hire an interior designer to take on the planet.

Less is more

Tips to bear in mind when turning a cubby into a domicile

 

 

Employ a few multipurpose pieces of large furniture.

Stay vertical.

Large rugs and drapery will absorb echoes from high ceilings.

Natural light warms up a room and makes it appear larger.

If necessary, overhead or recessed lighting is best.

Large mirrors double the size of a room.

Use understated, matching colors when painting a room.

Know your needs. Do you really need a 6-foot dining room table with eight chairs?

Organize necessary clutter such as media, kitchen utensils and toiletries.

If you have the option to buy appliances, consider an under-the-counter fridge,
off-site laundry, stove with overhead microwave or skipping the dishwasher.

Ikea can be your friend–in moderation.

Glove love is still the best love…

It’s undeniable: the emotional, physical and psychological satisfactions from sex are beyond compare with almost every other activity we share with another person. The problem is nature has a way of balancing things out. For every pleasure, there is a pain.A recent study by the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) proclaimed that roughly one in four adolescent women in the United States has a sexually transmitted infection (STI). Of the 838 women ages 14-19 surveyed, 26 percent had one or more common STIs, including, but not limited to, human papillomavirus (HPV), chlamydia and trichomoniasis. While these numbers have been widely reported by the media, how do they hold up in our own back yard?

Census figures show that as of 2006 there were 10,386 women between the ages of 15 and 19 living in Santa Cruz County. Using the CDC’s “one in four” theory, one could surmise that roughly 2,600 of them have an STI.

In fact, the numbers appear to be much lower than that–although health officials caution that it may be more a matter of underreporting than of having a healthier-than-average populace.

California law requires every health care provider to report cases of certain communicable diseases to the county. Santa Cruz County’s 2006 STD data report, released in May 2007, shows 134 cases of chlamydia, 10 cases of gonorrhea and no cases of syphilis reported for females between the ages of 15 and 19. That’s a grand total of 144–a far cry from 2,600.

However, the data sets are nowhere near comparable. The age ranges are slightly different (15 to 19 for the Santa Cruz figures, 14 to 19 for the CDC figures). More importantly, the CDC and the county gathered information on different diseases. Santa Cruz County does not collect trichomoniasis and HPV statistics because they aren’t required by state law; syphilis was not included in the CDC study. Neither collects figures on HIV.

Paula Haller, STD Controller for Santa Cruz County, says experts just assume the number of reported cases represents a fraction of the reality.

“So many people have an STD, but we just don’t know about them. If you look at our 2006 number, some people think you could multiply that by four and get the accurate number of people who have [STIs] in Santa Cruz County. … A lot of people aren’t aware of the urine test [used by the county], so they’re afraid it’s an invasive test. Some people aren’t aware of the confidentiality, or some providers don’t ask the right question. There are a lot of reasons that people don’t get tested.”

One of the biggest advantages of the CDC study is that it randomly selected a cross-section of young women and initiated both a questionnaire and medical exam, so people who were either unaware of an infection or unwilling to get tested were covered in the results.

Haller believes what’s important to take away from the CDC’s one-in-four finding is not fear but an understanding that STI screening should be a vital aspect of health care. Still, it’s hard to not be scared by the numbers. Perhaps solace can be found in the fact that an STI is an infection, and as such there are ways to prevent and combat it. And you’re not in the fight alone. For over 90 years, Planned Parenthood has provided a comprehensive approach to sexual health.

“For us, we’re concerned about teen safety and making sure we can provide the tools available so that young people can make good judgment calls about sexual activity and being safe,” explains Buu Thai. As public affairs director of Planned Parenthood Mar Monte Coastal Region, Thai believes information and testing are the best tools to fight the spread of STIs.

“When we go to a school, or in our clinics, we advocate comprehensive sex education–age-appropriate and medically accurate information. I know there have been other reports about abstinence-only, and we feel that abstinence-only is only one aspect, and it’s not going to deter young people from having sex. So we err on the side of providing the comprehensive picture.” In any given year, the Westside Planned Parenthood will see approximately 22,000 to 25,000 patients. “We talk to them about symptoms and provide visuals as a way of education, not as a scare tactic but to let them know what the symptoms are.”

Even with education and precautions, it’s still possible to contract an STI. Planned Parenthood and health care providers can offer not only education and testing but treatment for patients with an STI. In California it’s also legal for a health care provider to issue partner-delivered treatment, meaning a clinician can write a prescription for a patient’s partner. Another tool, Inspot.com, is designed to electronically and anonymously allow you to notify any past bed mates if you’ve tested positive for an STI.

STIs continue to be a major factor in our sex lives. Luckily there are just as many organizations out there with resources to help people play safe. Nature is an equalizer, but it isn’t malevolent in its design.

Sasha Grey…

What is transcribed below is my rough draft of the story. I had my name removed from the published byline because of some objectionable content that was added in during the editorial process. The published version can be found here.

Everyone comes home from work tired and exhausted, the only difference with Sasha Grey is that she’s tired from fucking all day. The Sacramento native has made a huge splash in the adult film industry. She’s starred in dozens of high grossing adult films, and won numerous awards for her XXX work. But for Sasha Grey, it’s all just a career.

Now 19 years old, Sasha Grey was born and raised in Sacramento where she attended North Highlands High School and maintained a 3.8 GPA through her junior year. While she wasn’t motivated to get out of Sacramento, Grey wanted to separate herself from what she viewed as a North Highland pitfall. “I didn’t want to be a North Highlands stereotype, a 19 year old with a kid, another one on the way, and living my life waiting for the next weekend to come.”

Having acted professionally since she was 12 the desire to perform wouldn’t seem an odd conclusion, but Grey sums it up all too simply. “I saw the women in porn and I just thought I could be a great performer,” Grey said recently at the Adult Entertainment Expo (AEE) in Las Vegas. Surrounded by fellow adult entertainers, production companies, fans, and seemingly endless pornography, Grey was a quiet in the storm. Her strong eyes were covered in heavy makeup and the black miniskirt, fishnets, and teasingly zipped down leather top was subtle considering her surroundings. Everything seemed to come naturally to Grey. Whether it was posing for pictures with fans or talking up the press, her confidence and matter-of-fact humor instantly turned her from a celluloid sexual object into a just another day at the office woman.

“I went into a depressing, seedy office with one sickly iridescent light, in the San Fernando Valley, two days after my 18th birthday, and this guy told me I had to have sex with him if I wanted to be a porn star,” Grey joked when asked how she got into the business. In reality she spent a lot of time doing research. During her first semester at Sacramento City College while tackling a full course load and a full time job, she watched every adult movie and read every adult publication she could get her hands on. “About two weeks after my 18^th birthday, I had a friend take some nude pictures of me, and I wrote a bio, and a mission statement, and sent the electronic package out to several different agencies in LA.”  Shortly thereafter she moved to LA and found an agent whom she wanted to represent her. After an attention-grabbing performance in The Fashionistas 2: Safado with John “Buttman” Stagliano, Grey began to receive more and more offers to appear in films.

Even though she would be hundreds of miles away from her parents and probably could have kept the secret if she wanted to, Grey wanted to tell her family about the career she had chosen. “I told my family, before someone else did. If I wanted respect, I had to do it myself.” Grey describes her mother as disheartened and said her sister didn’t understand it but accepted it. Her parents are divorced because as she describes it, “My mother works for the state while my father lives off the state – so obviously they are no longer married.” And while you may want to scream ‘Aha! Absent father figure!’ the porn star stereotype just doesn’t give you the proof or the right to do so.

Grey is also in a relationship, but she doesn’t see her job as an insurmountable object in maintaining a relationship. But that’s not to say there aren’t unique challenges.

“The first few months were difficult because it’s all new. You’re learning how to communicate. You’re working on your sex career and your sex at home.” It took some adaptation on both of their parts, but Grey said once her boyfriend visited her at the set, saw it was a job and not an all out orgy, things went a lot smoother. “We communicate, and I think that’s important in any relationship whether you’re in porn or not.” There’s no doubting that communication is important, but its possible Grey under-credits what has to be an exceptionally understanding boyfriend without an ounce of jealousy in his being. For every horned up guy out there who is thinking jealousy be damned, you get to sleep with a porn star every night, that isn’t the case. When you’re in porn, Grey noted, sometimes that means coming home and saying “I was fucked all day at work, just oral tonight honey.”

During the four day Adult Entertainment Expo in Sin City, Sasha Grey paraded herself out to meet the fans and schmooze with industry execs, but she was also there because she had been nominated for six AVN Awards – the adult equivalent of the Academy Awards. “It’s wonderful, it’s nice to receive that recognition,” Grey said. But she also admits that what the nominations could do for her career is also very important to her. Just like the Oscars, people go out and rent the movies that win awards. “I do want to build a brand, a name for myself. I just finished writing a feature script that will be directed in the next few months…What I really want to do is control my product.”

At the end of the AVN Awards Grey walked away with two awards, Female Performer of the Year, and Best Oral Sex Scene for Babysitters. These awards are commentaries on a body of work from a woman known for her will to push the boundaries in everything she does. “I think [pushing boundaries] is important to me in my life,” Grey explained after listing the only three things she doesn’t agree to on camera: having her breasts slapped, being slapped in the head, and being fingered. For someone who strives to push the boundaries, declining to be fingered may seem like an odd addition to the list, but Grey says it’s just because she’s been cut by fingernails before. It’s logical if you think about it. Opera singers drink tea with lemon to protect their voice, Sasha Grey doesn’t want her vagina scratched up.

In an interview with VTS.TV, Grey explained that her choice to perform rough sex scenes was a no-brainer. “I’ve been into SM before I ever got into the business, so naturally I was drawn towards that.  It’s a natural high for me…But you also have to look at the fact that when you’re performing and it’s a rough scene or heavy SM involved, you’re performing, its not like you’re at home playing. I try to be conscious of that so I make sure I don’t wear myself out. There’s thing I have to limit at home so I don’t go to work with bruises.” It’s not uncommon for Grey to compare her life as a porn star to that of an athlete.  “I consider what I do performance art, and not a lot of people view it that way…and it does take a toll on your body.”

However Grey doesn’t attribute her success to the fact that she’s willing to do more than the next girl. Instead she points to her work ethic and approach to her performances. “I meditate before each shoot. I never phone it in…I talk to my costars, find out what they’re comfortable with and let them know what I’m comfortable with.” And if she wakes up in the morning and just doesn’t feel like taking on a room of guys? “I’m an adult and I have a career that I want… One day I woke up and felt crappy. I was on my period and slated to do a gangbang with three guys. But I went to work. We switched the scene to a blow bang and got the job done.” That scene, which solved the mathematical puzzle of just how many positions one mouth and three penises can be placed into, would turn out to be this year’s winner for Best Oral Sex Scene. So while you can’t ignore the fact that her physical beauty is a large factor in her success, instances like this show that looks can get you in the business, but motivation and approach can produce great results.

Beyond the adult film industry, Grey is helming a documentary examining her career from when she first entered the business at 18, until she turns 21. Eventually she would like to transition to behind the camera full time, but the business is something that she’ll always love. “This business is so huge, so many people. It’s ever evolving is the only way to put it.” And as long as women like Jenna Jameson, Tristan Taormino, and now Sasha Grey continue to influence the business, the evolution of pornography can be something that both genders can embrace as their own.

Santa Cruz style in San Francisco…

Art is about showing the world how you see it, having a unique perspective on the world and sharing it. For two local artists, Lynn Guenther and Linda Ripatti, the world is a pretty fashionable place.

When she graduated as a graphic designer from Michigan State University, Santa CruzCK resident Lynn Guenther decided that she was too much of a hands-on person to stick with a keyboard and found her passion in crafting jewelry. Always learning as an artist, Guenther has adapted her style over the years, gathering experience while selling her jewelry in outdoor Berlin marketplaces, working at jewelry stores and taking classes in metalcraft at Cabrillo College (which she praises for its excellent metal shop).

Just as her skills have grown and evolved, Guenther’s inspiration continues to be molded by her life.

“I travel a lot and that’s one of my big inspirations, and I started this whole Mayan series after going to the Yucatan,” she explains, holding up a beautifully detailed bracelet layered with various metals and featuring a Mayan temple in the center. “I love to paint because I love to color, but the way that I get colors into these things is using different stones for the accents. And that’s the idea of using the mixed metals.”

Guenther prefers to start with sheet metal and wire, which allows her to keep her intricate pieces light and flexible. For her, part of the appeal of the art she creates is that even the larger, more complex pieces are practical and can be worn every day.

Fine Vintage
Not a stranger to the issue of practical fashion, Linda Ripatti designs her clothing around the concept of versatility.

“I try to make things that fit a lot of different people and fit a lot of different body styles. Something that people can feel comfortable in and work in,” Ripatti says as she slips into a retro swing coat that she recently designed. A 20-year veteran of design, Ripatti works out of her home in Watsonville, in a separate studio where she keeps the majority of her materials. A fan of vintage fashion, Ripatti allows the past to echo throughout her designs.

“I like vintage,” she says. “I go to vintage because, to tell you the truth, the ’20s and the ’30s, you can’t beat the vintage look. And the quality of the workmanship is unbelievable. So I like to go back to those looks all the time, and they have a very avant-garde style, which I am. That’s kind of me.”

One need only look to the swing body and box shoulders of the retro coat Ripatti’s wearing to believe that. Resembling a classic Myrna Loy piece, the coat is elegant and casual at the same time—another example of her emphasis on versatility. And if the ’20s and ’30s are considered vintage, Linda’s husband Steve Ripatti is practically Jurassic in some of his designs. He has been answering a need for unique fabrics for over two decades.

“I have enough ego that I don’t want to be near anybody with my design,” Steve explained while showing off a truly unique fabric. A customer favorite, the gray cloth with hints of plum features 32,000-year-old cave paintings.

Both Guenther and Ripatti bring a unique view of the world to their art and their fashion, so it should come as no surprise that they often share the same showcase. The largest event for craftswomen in the nation, the Celebration of Craftswomen in San Francisco, hosts both these artists, along with a half-dozen other local artists, Nov. 24-25 and Dec. 1-2. Designed to highlight the work of women artists, Celebration of Craftswomen is now in its 29th year. Since its inception as a small local fair with 22 exhibitors, it’s grown to host more than 200 artists and countless attendees from across the world. The event raises money for the Women’s Building, which supports programs designed to empower women and girls.

While artists each view the world through different lenses, the common ties that bind them often are stronger than their differences. For Guenther and Ripatti, the desire to bring the fashions of the past and from worlds abroad have brought them together under the same roof, for the same cause. At its most superficial art is mere entertainment, but, as these two artists prove, at its best, art is life.

 

CELEBRATION OF CRAFTSWOMEN is Dec. 1-2, 10am-5pm at Herbst Pavilion in San Francisco. Tickets are $8/$6 or $14 for a two-day pass; 415.345.7575. For more about Lynn Guenther see www.heartandsoulgallery.com; for Linda Ripatti see www.viaripatti.com.

Hula boys…

Words like grace, poise and beauty are not commonly associated with masculinity in Western society. Then again, neither is the word “hula.” Since the 1970s, Robert Cazimero has slowly been changing the way Western society—and native Hawaiian culture—view the traditional dance form and the grace, poise and beauty that masculinity can engender.

At the urging of his kumu hula, a Hawaiian term meaning “hula instructor” and which carries associations of mentorship and kinship, Robert Cazimero formed an all-male hula halau, or school, in 1975. In what would become a symbiotic relationship, Cazimero’s efforts to show that hula was not a strictly feminine art form merged with what many Hawaiians called the Hawaiian Renaissance. The 1970s were a time of change throughout America, and for Hawaii it was a time when cultural pride enjoyed a resurgence after the indignities and misfortunes brought by Western missionaries, World War II and statehood.

The tourist industry has turned hula into a sexualized dance performed by young, thin women and kitschy artifact embodied in dashboard figurines, but hula as an art form is about storytelling, tradition and life. In the documentary Na Kamelei: The Men of Hula, Cazimero describes the dance as a means of expressing everything an individual sees, hears, touches, tastes and smells. This description inherently owns a sense of welcome vulnerability to the world, which is stereotypically not a masculine outlook on life. Cazimero and his students have fought this stereotype ever since the opening of their school, Halau Na Kamelei.

The documentary is filled with interviews in which students address the common homophobic reactions to their passion for hula, with its leis and grass skirts—even though, when performed by kane, or men, hula takes on a powerful and distinctly martial aspect. But in another twist against stereotypes, Cazimero and the students laugh off the homophobia, perhaps because, as one student mentions, hula is calming and centering.

Watching Cazimero’s journey through three decades of hula brings a perspective to both the dance form and Hawaiian culture. Na Kamelei: The Men of Hula, which closes out this year’s Pacific Rim Film Festival with a special benefit screening at which Cazimero will appear, gives a candid look at the lives of the students at one of the only all-male hula schools in Hawaii. Through interviews, historical and home footage, Cazimero and the filmmakers explore hula through the traditions from which it was formed as the students at Halau Na Kamalei prepare for the 2005 Merrie Monarch Festival in the town of Hilo on the Big Island. The festival is the biggest and most important hula festival in all of the islands, but when returning to the festival for their 30th anniversary, Cazimero and the students feel the pressures of gender as well as age. As Cazimero puts it in the film, the dancers at his school range from “19 to dirt.”

As a type, Cazimero would be instantly recognizable to anyone who has ever practiced an art form under a gifted and passionate instructor. At one point he is a tyrannical leader, berating his students for their inabilities to implement his vision, and in the next moment he oozes love and adoration. Neither image is a falsity, both beings expressions of his passion for an art form that he has helped regenerate in modern times. Combined with three decades as a successful musician, Cazimero’s passion for Hawaiian culture and traditional art forms is ever-present in the documentary. The scenes in which he brings his students to the edge of Kilauea, the Big Island’s active volcano, to pay respects to the goddess Pele are haunting and genuine in their sincerity; this is a society that has been threatened by global pressure for decades. This passion for the Hawaiian culture is summed up in the film by Cazimero when he recites a Hawaiian proverb: “I dare to hula; leave your shame at home.”

NA KAMALEI: THE MEN OF HULA shows Wednesday, Oct. 10, at 7pm at the Rio Theatre. Hula dancers perform before the screening, and kumu hula Robert Cazimero will appear in person. Tickets are $15 and available at Bookshop Santa Cruz, Logos, Westside Stories, Aloha Island Grill and online at Ticketweb.com.