What if…I’m “doing” museums wrong?

Or: a collection of friends for your perusal

Hello!

Last week, I went to The Getty. If you’ve never been, it’s basically The Met, but with better views and energy I can only compare to Disneyworld. There is in fact a monorail — or maybe not technically a monorail, I don’t know how trains work — but you have to ride a silly little train up the mountain while a jangly tune plays over the speakers. 

Me at The Getty, scheming, while everyone else is being an adult

So perhaps it was my subconscious childhood self that decided to spend my entire visit not “taking in the art” (the sole exception was this exhibition on the Kamoinge Workshop, which fucking ruled) BUT mining through the hoardings of a crusty old billionaire in search of silly creatures. Maybe I’ll turn these jaunty fellas into something in the future (a zine? fictional tales? bootleg merch?), but for now, here are some faves without context:

This newsletter brought to you by:

• The Getty’s very lenient BYO-snack/bev policy

• A lady I saw yesterday riding a motorcycle with a small dog strapped to her chest

• Watching Hocus Pocus 2, followed by a deep dive into Walgreens’ nonexistent robot vacuum lineup

• Procrastinating larger, more intimidating projects I need to dig into ASAP