click

click

A sunset picnic at the beach. What a good idea.

It’s been a beachy end of summer. Big waves in my last post and a great trip down to San Clemente over the Labor Day weekend with friends, Brian and Amy, to the Beachcomber Inn…a classic surf-city location on a grassy bluff above the sweep of beach and pier with only the Amtrak rail between us and the sand.

So as the summer winds down here in L.A., a gentle afternoon by the water’s edge watching the sun set beyond the horizon seems about right…

click

click

click

click

It’s been right enough for dreamers for a very long time.

For over a 100 years, when the first silent features were filmed at Paradise Cove by the likes of Charlie Chaplin, Fatty Arbuckle, Buster Keaton, and countless others, even the famous Max Senate and his Beautiful Belles, this seashore has beckoned the dreamers among us.

click

click

It began with the light of course. The necessary light to transfer images from the real world to the celluloid dreamscape well before Klieg lights were invented or made portable. The crystalline light that shimmers in the SoCal sky made all fantasies come alive.

As our friends, Jerry and Roz, and Nettie and I settled in at a great little spot known as Dead-End Beach at the end of Malibu Colony where the Hollywood Stars still live (some nearly as old as the silent film stars no doubt), the afternoon sun was brilliant upon the sea and sand.

click

click

It was no surprise then when three people ambled down to the shore near us. One was a darling young girl, obviously a performer of some kind, another was the photographer, and the third a kind of “handler” for the starlet.

When I saw her, I thought immediately of the bygone era of B&W films and struggling actresses and dancers and fashion models who came to cast their lot upon Hollywood’s golden shore.

This young girl was a pretty sight, but unusual, too. I couldn’t help myself standing up and going over to her. Who was she? What was the photo shoot all about? (I’m pushy this way…after all I have a blog to write!)

Low Light

click

“I’m a dancer,” she smiled and did a pirouette as the photographer laughed and kept snapping pictures.

I saw the tattoos and the piercings as I got closer (not to mention the fishnet stockings and pink hair and fluffy boots), and I could guess the kind of dancing she was talking about. I asked her name.

“It’s Kitten,” she giggled, “Well,” she shrugged, “I’m calling myself that now and I think the club owner will let me keep it.”

Love Me

click

There was so much hope and sadness wound up in that name, Kitten, that I could have wept right there in front of her.

Instead, I asked if I could snap a few pictures myself over the shoulder of her photographer. Her answer?

“Sure you can, take as many as you like…who knows what could happen with them.”

click

click

I started focusing and shooting, focusing and shooting as the light began to fade along this delicate shore.

I knew the sun would rise again tomorrow on all of us. Sure it would. The Summer may be over, Autumn may be coming on, but here in Hollywoodland, time stands still and hope springs eternal in the human breast.

Good luck, Kitten. Here’s looking at you, kid.

click

click

 

 

 

2 Responses to Hey Kitten, Here’s Looking At You…

  1. Kitten looks like a kind of a mermaid in that penultimate shot.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.