We woke up to the eternal youth of the one and only Michael Des Barres knocking on our door looking for a cup of coffee. Sitting down and talking with this man whose stories are animated, exuberant and filled with a confidence that time has brought him to the very place he was meant to be. Challenging us to see with our hearts and not with any preconceived notions of whom others might be.
I’m on a journey and I do not judge or condemn. I’ve been sober for 30 plus years but I can’t tell someone else not to do something, I can only live by the example that anything is possible.
If these walls could talk…
On a sleepy Los Angeles afternoon we entered the home of rock groupie Miss Pamela Des Barres. Apparent that there was no vacancy left to be a fly on the wall dressed in yellow and teal hangings of self-portraits, Elvis, Walt Whitman, Jesus, The GTO’s, and a photograph with Dylan. So much life yet a solace melancholy filled the room, maybe to realize that life with a musician is more of a dream.
The way I see it, we were their muses and they needed us.
In Studio City we went back to the time when rock & roll lit up the Sunset Strip with an energy that was as flamboyant and crude as there ever might be. We sat down with Blue Dixon who is not afraid to tell it like it is and reflects on the fact that as women we need to have each other’s back because it can be a cruel, dark world otherwise. Stories of life on the road and how she became an unwelcome member on the tour bus by speaking her mind.
This bus don’t roll until we drop the hoe off at the Texaco.
No man was ever going to stand in my way. I love Dee but I don’t need him.
Each artistic encounter brings another perspective to the equation as we seek to answer the question ‘does or can’ real love exist in this industry. What is love to each person and is the end result fuelled by chance or choice.