Bonnie Hawthorne

I once worked at a job where I was the only girl in a really obnoxious Boy’s Club. These guys were all dicks, starting with the boss. And as sometimes happens in the workplace,  the boys bonded through their asshole behavior and were promoted by the asshole boss for it.

Some of it was funny sometimes. Like the perfect pile of fake shit on my chair when I came back from the bathroom. Or swapping out the food in my lunch bag in the fridge with junk food from the vending machine.  But sometimes it wasn’t funny. Sometimes it made me mad. And like many females, when I’m really REALLY mad…  I cry. Which is the worst thing you can do with a bunch of guys like that. Talk about fanning the flames, hoo wee.

So I created a Superhero Alter Ego. Her superpower? Her tears, of course.  This comic, drawn by the amazing artist Kelly Campbell, tells the story of how she came to be.

I bring this up because this was one of my favorite Halloween costumes ever. Luckily, Spinstera hasn’t been called into action lately. But evil doers (and Boy’s Clubs) beware!

Found this under my car seat today. It was given to me by a sweet old lady volunteer at The Borax Visitor’s Center, a place Scott and I stopped on our recent whirlwind tour of California. Those chunks are samples of what comes out of the world’s largest borax mine, shrink wrapped onto an unmailable postcard.

If you ever find yourself on the western edge of the Mojave desert and have some time to kill, I highly recommend stopping in Boron. Those of you who’ve lived in New York City (or other roach infested places) will be familiar with boric acid, the white powder that lines most tenement apartment kitchens. If you’re old enough to remember when Ronald Reagan was a TV pitchman, then you’re familiar with 20 Mule Team Borax and the show created to feature it called “Death Valley Days.” Yup, this is where all of that comes from.

I didn’t take any photos inside the fancy and seemingly well-funded visitor’s center. But here’s an outside display of a giant tire from one of these giant Tonka trucks.

They are slow moving and carry a payload of up to 260 tons. 260 tons! According to a guy we talked to who used to work there, the trucks are well air conditioned and have good stereo systems. The drivers make about $29 an hour.

These days, as I try to figure out what to do with myself,  I am fascinated with what other people do for a living. Oddly, driving a big Star Wars truck full of rock sort of appeals to me.

But if it means living in Boron, yeah, no thanks. According to Wikipedia: “Boron is populated primarily by descendants of Oklahomans who came to California during the Great Depression. Despite its location only hours from Los Angeles, many people in Boron speak with an Oklahoman drawl.”

They left one dust bowl for another. Huh.

I walked out of my house this morning and experienced that heart-in-the-throat thing again. It happens every time my neighbor leaves her car out (which, thankfully, isn’t very often.)

This photo is the physical embodiment of a recurring dream that I’ve had since my 1959 VW convertible and I parted ways under unfortunate circumstances. In the dream, I suddenly remember that my beloved first car (bought for me by my sister when I was 18) is safely stored in a garage much like this one and that I have simply forgotten where it is. We are once again united and live happily ever after.

In reality, my car sucked a valve in Longview, Washington on my way back from a trip to the San Juan Islands. I sold it for $200 and a ride to the bus station. It was one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made, hence the recurring dream.

My neighbor—who moved in about a year ago—seems understanding and tolerant of my fascination with her car. It’s clear that she loves hers as much as I loved mine.

It means that it’s finally cool enough to go to places like Joshua Tree. Let’s go!

While Ben and Rachel’s family and friends found their seats, while TV on the Radio’s “Family Tree” filled the rural Texas air, the happy couple waited for their cue.

Congratulations to them both!

The opening of my photo show was a great success last Friday night. Saw people I hadn’t seen in a long long time. Was really fun.

Here’s Johnny Apodaca, owner of Gallery Apodaca holding the banner. Big thanks to Johnny and Janelle for giving me a show and for treating me so well. And also big thanks to everyone who came out and made it such a special evening!

P.S. The Jacaranda photos are now up under photos/all categories/Jacaranda.

It’s OK if nobody but me finds this funny because I had so much fun doing it!

When Cameron Cash asked if I could shoot some new head shots for him I figured I could extract some modeling in exchange. And this was what I pictured—for whatever reason—a guy painting a phallic cactus in a field of round cacti. Actually, this is far better than what I had pictured, thanks to the amazing painting by Carolyn Clark, done last night with a bottle of wine and a playlist that made her hum while she painted.

The high point of the day had to be when Cameron and I paused to let a large Japanese family squeeze by on the narrow path. The two little girls in the front of the pack looked at the painting and said, “Pretty!” The men looked at it and said nothing. The women made polite murmurs. Then the oldest lady at the back of the line—I’m guessing Grandma—really took a good look at it and said enthusiastically, “Nice!”

Thanks to all. You, too, Ian.

Oh yeah, there’s a nice new shot of Cameron on the People section of photos. Click the link top right.

So a lot have people have asked, Why Carmel? Why on earth would you have a show up there? Well, turns out I have a little history with the place.

This lovely Polaroid was taken in probably 1978. I worked in a teeny tiny camera shop on Ocean Avenue. Janelle Gistelli (far right) worked up the block at Dansk. We, um, did lunch together every day. We had just had lunch when Leon Panetta came by to introduce himself. He was running for some kinda office. He went on to do some big fancy job or two like White House Chief of Staff and Director of the CIA, but more importantly, Janelle Gistelli went on to become Mrs. Johnny Apodaca and co-owner of Gallery Apodaca in Carmel. http://johnnyapodaca.com/johnnyapodaca.com/Welcome.html

See? All makes sense now, right?

P.S. I sure wish I’d kept those rad glasses!