The bicycle ride. Last Friday, midnight ride or something like that it’s called. My neighbor invited me, always wondering who’s bike that is locked at the fence. It was quiet fascinating, several thousand people, I lost track of the way, I just remember the end of it. It was moving on, for about two hours, from Los Feliz along the Los Angeles river, Glendale/Burbank direction, downtown LA, really downtown and back to Wilshire at the Gaylord, where it suddenly stopped at midnight…I was so surprised that I lost my friends…The thing I also remember: all the people at the street side with flat tires…I visited the LACMA, David Hockney, a selection of portraits throughout his live. Especially the ones from the 70-ies, late 60-ies are extremely good. They have a certain expression, very distinctive, not stylish but they reflect this time very precisely I found. Probably because they are also personal at the same time, abstract but also personal. The other thing I found remarkable was the process, how he developed through the time with his work, the personal relation to the people, mostly close friends, he portrayed. Inspiring.

And there was the movie: 13 Tzameti. I guy who found himself by accident being part of an outrages insane game: player form a circle, everyone with a gun, one bullet, pointing to the head of the person in one’s front. When the light goes on, shoot. Next round two bullets, then three. Of the last survivors two chosen by lot facing each other for the final duell. People are betting money, this the whole point. Shot in black and white, a sort of social drama psycho thriller. Very intense cinema experience.

Now I am just watching “Don’t come knocking” by Wim Wenders. For the third time.