Nest

“Nest” was an installation of mine at Exile gallery, 110 Winston St., downtown Los Angeles. It was part of “Women in Exile,” a group show by Judith Simonian, Monique Safford and myself, May 16-June 6, 1982.

“Nest” was a construction of straw, tumbleweed, grass and string: an actual nest, eight feet wide, filled with intimate objects from the bedroom of my studio at 240 S. Broadway. It was located on a loft in the front gallery, accessible by staircase. Visitors sat in the nest and drank champagne. At the bottom of the stairs, a poem was posted:

To touch your flesh
is to want your nest.

To smell your every part
is to invite desire.

But you cannot be the
cup.

You cannot be the
penny.

A nest is such a complicated thing.

I don’t seem to have any documentation of the nest or of Judy’s or Monique’s work for that show, but I hope they will add some info to this page.

 

I also made a performance for “Women in Exile.” Poet Lewis MacAdams and I both did solos on May 29 under the title of “Performing in Exile.” Mine was about the difference between illusion and reality. I read descriptions of four types of illusions under which I have suffered: “Dylan Thomas,” the illusion of the separation of body and soul; “Bohemia,” the illusion that there is something good about sleeping downtown; “The Cellar Bar,” the illusion that drinking buddies are your friends; and “Romantic Love,” the illusion that you and your lover are participating in the same illusion. These illusions were interspersed with poems and songs written by me.

Exile was a gallery close to Skid Row in downtown L.A., founded  by artists Gary Worrell and Dennis Goddard and myself. For me, it lasted about six months.