« Posts tagged irene urias

Zoetica Ebb and Clint Catalyst for Giuseppina Magazine

Giuseppina Magazine : Halloween Edition : Blood Red V.5

Release Date : October 30, 2014
Editor-In-Chief : Jessica Rowell of J-Chan’s Designs

Zoetica Ebb and Clint Catalyst
Make-Up Artist : Zoetica Ebb
Photography : Deniz Uzunoglu
Hair : Master Stylist Irene Urias @ Hairroin Salon
Clothing / Fashion Design / Accessories : Mother of London by Mildred von Hildegard

Alright, I realize this blog tends to be a bit Zo-centric . . . though not without sufficient cause! Not only is The Intergalactic Naturalist, Prodigal Cosmonomad and Mercury Vagabond a mega-talented creature of massive multi-media creative outpourings; moreover, not only is she one of the most stead-fast, stand-up, all-around superlative friends one could hope to have . . . but also, that beauty! The solo shot in which she’s serving Military Chic? Seriously : Can. Not. Get over!

On a similar tip : Steady gagging over the radness of a certain Editor-In-Chief, who featured me giving face two issues prior; then surprised me with the back cover slot, current ish! [So much adoration and admiration, Jessica! Truly . . . Truly : It’s an honor and a privilege ♥]

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The Hangers also express mad gratitude to actor / musician / promoter and international nightclub impresario Mario Diaz for the benevolent usage of his estate, Casa de la Decadencia.

Incidentally, the full-frontal, effing incandescent career of none other than Mssr. Deez-The-Deed Diaz was immortalized on celluloid earlier this year, via the release of Club King — a feature-length documentary directed by Jon Bush, in which the solar system of this evening star is chronicled in all its sordid, dazzling glory. Check it!

Clint Catalyst, Darenzia and Johnny Raymond for Giuseppina Magazine

Cover Story / Editorial Feature for Giuseppina 21 : The Acceptance Issue

Release Date : August 20, 2014
Editor-In-Chief : Jessica Rowell of J-Chan’s Designs

With Clint Catalyst, Darenzia and Johnny Raymond Jr.
Photography : Dirk Mai
Make-Up Artist : Shandra Jade
Hair : Master Stylist Irene Urias @ Hairroin Salon

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Petker’s Paintings In Stiletto Pumps (or: The Catwalk-Stalking & Crowd-Gawking)

What? Like, You Thought I’d Forgotten Or Something?

No such luck.

I’m just a tease.

Wait–SCRATCH!    I’ve just been holding back to make this post “stand out from the pack.”

Yeah, that’s it…

Actually, since “L.A. Fashion Week” happened in various mutations this fall–What do we have now…three per season?  Can’t. Keep. Up.–I thought it might be nice to take a look back at runway shots from the

Gold vs. Petker


on 07/30/09.

Except this time?  I’ll do so with

Less gab; more GORGEOUNESS.

(How about that, then?)

From Miss Kitching, I intuit

a resounding “Yes, please!”

So…that being said, here’s

actor Daniel Franzese as he awaited patiently…

Burlesque bombshell Ava Garter, who

who set the stage for the show to kick off

(with a lethal stiletto, bless her heart!)


In the interim, “90210” hottie Annalynne

had a show of her own goin’ on,


*Cue Smiley-Face Emoticon*

as she waited front-row for her sister

The latest of ‘The McC Girls’ to stake her claim

as a media darling: Angel McCord ,

who conquered the catwalk like a pro…

O.K., some of you might recall my adulation over

Joshua Petker’s painting “Hunting for Witches” a while back?

(Be it yay or nay, here’s a reference for your ‘Quick & Easy’…)

Well, spot-check the detail of how it translated to fabric:

Mr. Gold’s stitch-witchery paired with Petker’s inimitable technique,

then ‘suited & booted’ by McCord’s searing Buffalo Stance?

Stellar.   Zenith.

S U B L I M E!

:: Smoocheroonies to you, Angel! ♥ ::

And on the tip of  ‘sublime,’

it’d be criminal of me to not include

one of the most adept catwalk-stalkers in Los Angeles,

(impeccably-manicured) hands’ down!

I’m talkin’ about

Amanda Fields of “Project Runway” infamy

Of course, a Jared Gold show wouldn’t be complete

without the presence of

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Clint Catalyst ‘Motors-His-Mouth’ With Designer Jared Gold And Model Julie Meise

Can/Would/Could/Do you DIGG!?

(To Do So, It’s As Easy AS Clicking The “Digg” Hyper-Link Listed Above…
please and thank you!)


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“Pained And Painted” : New Video Post

Spoken Word by Clint Catalyst
Visual Manipulations / Aural Fixations by Nicholas Wolfkind

Featuring portrayals by

Audrey Kitching
Lorraine Caley
Kaiden Blake
Kat Lee
Hilary Goldberg
and CCx

Shiny Latex Fineries by Syren.com ♥ [COVET…LOVE.IT] ♥
Hair Artistry by the Almighty Irene Urias of HairroinSalon.com

Accompanying text available via Clint Catalyst’s YouTube Channel ; Click “More Info”
“Pained and Painted” is published in the book Cottonmouth Kisses [ Manic D Press ]

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Mageina Tovah Models for Clint Catalyst Collab. Project

…a collection of anecdotes I’m in the process of assembling entitled Degeneracy: A Love Letter .

Essentially, the book is a series of stories about what my grandmother described as “orneriness”— in other words, the type of socially inappropriate behavior atypical to teenage delinquents that revels in being bad…but not evil.

Thing is, I seem to have been precocious in the sense that I jumped feet-first onto shaky territory before I’d even broken double digits in my natals. However, unlike my wiser peers who limited their bad behavior into a period referenced the same way as that proverbial phase The Parental Units continually told me my interest in eccentric fashion and avant garde music was, its been over two decades and my love for the outlandish remains omnipresent. Sure, perhaps its more refined in focus—but if anything, it flourishes.

Ditto the story with whatever inherent need I have to be a juvenile delinquent. No doubt I’ve well outstayed my welcome, as these days I’m twice the age of most teens yet just still can’t seem to “just let go.”

Granted, I don’t indulge in the reckless behavior I did throughout my early twenties. Not only is the thought of following the same pattern and routine a total yawn; its physically and mentally exhausting. For seven years, I cut out all drug and alcohol consumption completely. That’s when and how the book idea for Degeneracy: A Love Letter came about. I mean, cmon: theres really no need to dial Dr. Freud on the white courtesy phone to realize that whether its been my active pursuit to engage in unusual sexual proclivities known as Caking, frightening adults through acts of puppet terrorism, experimenting with polyamory, indulging in the sensory overload from various elements of the fetish scene—specifically, the slippery sheen of the latex, or hopping myself up via ritualistic can-to-mouth over-consumption of nonfat Redi-Whiptheres still an ornery element of my personality on the eternal quest for some new kind of kick.

Amanda (one of my dearest friends, a responsible mother who’s incidentally a ‘partner in crime’ from those—ahem! We Dont Talk About Those Things Now—nascent years of naughty behavior when we were trapped within the chokehold of the Southern Baptist Bible Belt notched in Jonesboro, Arkansas) is illustrating each of these romanticized, exalted, and equally self-deprecating tales through the lens of her camera. However Ms. Brooks chooses to interpret the text is her decision: be it literal, tongue-in-chic, or in a manner perhaps not as obvious…that’s none of my business. Still, Ive gotta admit: weve been fortunate thus far in the sense that theres been no shortage of dynamic individuals who’ve donated their talent, time and physical being (you know, bodies) to function as the medium for Amanda’s canvas of choice.

In this instance, model/actress Mageina Tovah (Spiderman 2-3, Joan of Arcadia, et al) gives a preview by proxy for the forthcoming release. Yes, its merely a fragment of time captured by shoddy digi-cam footage from an afternoon she spent being bad. Though at the time of me clacking out this palaver, Ive yet to see one frame of the finished product—so to have the real life reference of bargain-bin wallpaper rigged with duct tape, clamps and a seamless in front of a garage versus the end result?

Well, the recounting of events via oral history has everything to do with inflection, delivery, technique. By that same token, ultimately what Mageina provides Amanda, then Amanda delivers, make these anecdotes more universal—i.e., less about me.

And were getting closer both to an overall expansion in scope as well as the project’s completion.

All I have to do is continue cranking these “stories” out, reminding the reader/audience of the adage “No one can be sure my friend/Where truth begins and fiction ends…”

(Any Tones on Tail fans out there still? Anyone, anyone?)


The stylemeisters “werkin’ their magic” with us there on the set are make-up artist Genevive Lamb (a ‘face-beater’ and cutie pie from Christian Dior) and the inimitable Irene Urias from Hollywood’s white-hot epicenter of cool: Hairroin Salon. Hairroin’s a powerhouse of prettiness, so if youre in the greater L.A. area and have yet to discover it

By all means: baby, let me be your pusher!

Hairroin Salon [dot] com

Givin GORGE in the dept of wardrobe: Jared Gold couture
(Who else?)

Jared Gold [dot] com

And Amanda herself can be found hangin’ out at

Amanda Brooks Photo [dot] com


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Hardcore Delirious/Deleterious Glamour

[ Downtown Los Angeles, 7th & San Pedro ]

Audz and me : just hangin’ with the Baseheads, sippin’ with cracked lips
from brown papered-bottles of Night Train . . . Oh yeah!
And, uh, Eric Kroll and his crew

Once The Boys and he hauled Irene’s chair downstairs, I suppose my look turned Bloodthirsty-Barber-Accepting-“Walk-In” — or rather, walk up? — Clients. Said another way? The Baseheads wandered a bit too close to our ‘home base.’ Sidewalk or nay, they were getting a bit too . . . interactive in our production. Mumbling from afar quickly progressed regressed into spittle proximity, so when Mr. Kroll urged me all mad cazh to Turn Up My Crazy, well . . . I amped it to about an 11. In case you were wondering? Flailing 14″ shears are an effective prop if one is aiming for 5150 territory. [ Cue latex-clad emoticon, kplzthnx ]

Sure, out-kooking-the-kooks has its own entertainment value — but I was stoked to be photographed by the fetish-meister after so many years, truth be told. I’ve seen him listed as ‘the most famous fetish photographer alive,’ and I can’t say I’d argue. I mean : images from his book Fetish Girls were made into postcards I remember seeing in airports, for F’s sake.

That tome of T & A — along with several other of his published works — has been on many a coffee table I’ve encountered over the years.

Short of the long? Whatever the case with this eve : it was an “encounter” ; that’s for sure!

[ I think he meant “wooes,” but it’s funnier this way — as in, I’m givin’ her Woe Is Me… ]

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Thanks for the Mammaries…

C.C.’s CAMEO with




“European megawatt Antoine De Caunes explored this strange beast we know under the name of Los Angeles, and stumbled upon Future Cult Icon Lenora Claire in the process.

Because any fashion choice I make should be considered The Law — yes, this is sarcasm, kiddies — I was brought in to transform Antoine into the hip party-goer he’s always wanted to be…whether or not he knew it. After all, Lenora’s birthday soirée was just an “intimate little gathering” of her thousand most fabulous friends at none other than the Houdini Mansion.

In other words, jeans and a t-shirt? Just WOULDN’T have cut it.

The hand-painted suit on Mr. De Coines is a one-of-a-kind creation by TonyMech of TonyMech[dot]com, while the black-belt beauty crew responsible for his phenomenal transformation via hair and make-up is none other than Stacey Hummell, Face-Beater Extraordinaire, as well as Irene Urias and Marc Mapile of Hairroin — the virtual locale of which is Hairron Salon.

And on me?

Need I even mention the shrunken top hat was made by Creepsuela Switchletto and my own subtle ensemble another couture creation by Mssr. Jared Gold?

Or uh, Are you guys kind of…CATCHING ON by this point?

[ Envision Appropriate Emoticon ]

x o x o x

C l i n t”

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“TL;DR” Overdrive…

Well, actually:

Yes, I wore the soles off my 20-e Doc’s many an eve
dancing to the 12″ mix of Ministry’s “Everyday is Halloween”
in back-alley nightclubs where I was years away from years from
being ‘of age’ to attend in the first place

(translation: the main thing that made it fun–
or at least that’s how it seems, looking back)

back in ancient history, also known as
my bereaved degenerate youth

I’ve been revisiting some of the more
dynamic moments from what could aptly be filed away in memory
as ‘The Clintagious Chronicles’ due to
the current book project on which I’ve been working

Degeneracy: A Love Letter.

// R.I.P., oh Long Lost Love…despite the toxic goulash of highlights,

lowlifes and embarrassingly awkward good times, how

exhilarating it seems your freedom was //

Whatever the case, here’s a recent update “from the set,”

featuring the inimitable beauty of actress/model Mageina Tovah

in the first of her two looks for the day:


Copious detail/commentary is provided on the clip’s YouTube page,

including info on the other peeps present who

deserve some serious ‘propers’ of their own.

(Irene Urias from Hairroin Salon, Genevieve Lamb from Dior, and

of course my co-conspirator, Amanda Brooks :

childhood f(r)iend/former ‘partner in crime’-turned-responsible mom)

Maendi and I lived by the edict that everyday presented

a new opportunity: the chance to become whomever/whatever we want

by dressing up.

To this day, I’m a tremendous advocate of the belief–

I mean, it was a mere three weeks ago, yet

I’m already missing Halloween.

With an outfit as genius as what Jared Gold concocted on my behalf,

how could I not?


and for the more detail-obsessed


here’s a considerably more comprehensive 5 minute clip in which

The Master of Delicate Decadence

shares everything from the costume’s “reveal”

to secret compartments ensconced within:

As for All Hallow’s Eve ‘proper,’ I gotta tell ya: generally speaking,

I was stoked to see so many Alice in Wonderland characters runnin’ around…

There were a slew of them both at the ‘Bitches Brew’ party, as well as a hearty smattering of Mad Hatters afterwards

when we hit the Brite Spot for some “fine” (enough) dining.

Seriously now: being a “Glad Hatter” myself–how could I not adore them? Despite accusations that I’m a ‘camera whore,’ (harumph!)

there aren’t many pictures of me from the evening. Nonetheless, I managed to snap one
of that dang adorable little Janine Jarman

& face-beater extraordinaire Noel Nichols within the first few minutes of our arrival; then cheers as other guests followed suit…

Q: Ever “spanked the monkey”? (Effing genius coincidence captured, that…)

As for me, I danced to the phenomenal tuneage spun by D.J.s Marta & Jen,

workin’ my ‘Demented Barber, Circa ’99…1899, That Is’ accessories for all they—

& the accompanying attitude in which I came “dressed”—were worth

(looks like SOMEONE needs a hug, hrmm? Just call me ‘Mr. Congeniality!’)

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Hence the “Not My Best Look” oilslick on my gesicht

(Hand on a Merrir breast, though Mr. Gold seems unimpressed…)


Thanks for the mammaries, Miss Sarah Merrie!


Another shot from the evening:

Kaiden as “Epic Fail: Scene ‘LOL’,” Stevie Ryan as a pretty version of Pee Wee Herman,

and Adam Paranoia throwin’ Teen Wolf in a most serious way…

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

And speaking of serious,

I was seriously surprised to learn that when my pal Brandon came to town for a visit

he comped me a frickin’–well, really expensive Madonna ticket.

9th row front, 3rd center of the ‘T-shaped’ stage

for one night


more than an entire month’s rent?

Can’t say I would’ve made that one happen myself…

* Thanks again, B! *

(I love how undeniably excited he is…)

& of course, via his iPhone we’ve got

“Pics or It Didn’t Happen”

O.K… so Home Skillet put on a phenomenal show.

I won’t make any references about how “I would hope so”; moreover,

I’ll refrain from utilizing any clichéd monikers in my commentary.

(Seriously journalists: by this point, any hack who refers to Mz. M as “The Material Girl”

should be force-fed the Oxford English Dictionary One. Page. At a time.)

but let me just tell you: when she threw down some DOUBLE DUTCH…

Well, let’s just say… despite another ’80s ricochet (nod to Keith Haring notwithstanding)

I was seventeen shades of impressed. It’s no secret I’ve been trying to assemble my own double-dutch squad

capable of weaving our way through the ropes while dressed in elaborate couture for quite some time… So until ‘The Swingers’ come to fruition,

I’ll cease this gargantuan post with the note

What I’m really dying to know is:

Has anyone else heard the rumor that Alexander McQueen will be designing a limited-run for Target?

They’ve scored some outstanding talent in the past but McQueen?

Truly: it’s a shame Isabella Blow isn’t here with us to share her thoughts on the topic (not to mention her opinions in general–but that’s a given)

& on a final rash note about fash: Did anybody rack up any great merch among the H & M/Comme Des Garcons collabo?

I wasn’t able to devote the entire morning of the 13th to waiting in line

in an attempt to score at least one piece of the instant collectibles.

(Different story altogether with the Viktor & Rolf launch from…hrmm… Two years ago, wasn’t it?)

However, thanks to my dear pal Pedro, I didn’t completely miss out on the goods that were gone in…what? Something like 17 minutes?

& though you might have thought it’d never happen, this is me, waaaay all kinds of outta here!

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Snip, Clip, Scan… It’s “Show & Tell” for the 21st Century

O.K., before I have to dial whine-one-one for the waaaahmbulance, please allow me to throw down a disclaimer in hopes that I’ll spare even a single set of phalanges out there clacking terse comments about how I “really need to post this type of information while issues are still on the newsstands…” [ad nauseum, ad nauseum; cue vomitorium]

‘Cause hey—guess what?

I really need to post this shit in a more expeditious manner, man.

Just so happens that–ahem–I might very well have a few issues of my own to deal with. (One of which is the preposition by which the previous sentence just ended, dangling like an unworn pair of silver Les Chiffoniers’ leggings aching for the latest Girl of the Moment to slide into them before dashing out to paint the town bloodshot. It’s as inherent a pairing as Edie Segwick hopped-up on a fistful of whites and having her coiff spray painted Just For The F Of It while donning Balenciaga originials. What other lack of logic explains the perfect sense it makes to purchase what’s essentially a thick pair of pantyhose with a thousand dollar price tag? Not really…but REALLY, babes.)

But oh, that’s but a footnote of damage from a former version of myself in which I worked as a technical writer. A footnote among essays within archives buried deep inside some virtual boneyard we’ll call The Chronicles of the Clintasaurus and opt to visit some other time just dust our hands of it.


At least all this self-aggrandizing material is contained within a single post. Couldn’t give two turds about what ‘they’ might have said about me?

Scroll on; scroll on!

It’s as easy as the pro-Ana mindset by which to skip dessert:
“Does Not Exist.”

What does exist, nonetheless, on the other acrylic claw:

Recent media in which I appear–sometimes but a smidgen; luckier instances full effing-on.

For instance, the following pic and mention in H Magazine is a case of what might be deemed “peripheral press.” Or, to utilize the vernacular of savvy SoCal realtors in sensible shoes: an “adjacent feature.”

Not gonna lie (or “ngl,” for those who speak Millennial): this is one of the first photographs of Mister Glenn Kaino that shows how handsome he is. Not exactly a stranger to the slick and glossy pages of newsstand racks, there’ve been many a magazine where I thought the printed results of the flashbulb-pop just didn’t do him justice. Props to the photographer for capturing why it is his lovely wife CoryLynn went “Whoa”—y’know?

And insofar as my image—the look I ‘turned out’* for bits and pieces of my soul to be sacrificed via Glenn’s manipulation of the bulky/beautiful Polaroid Big Shot favored by Warhol himself?

*’turned out’ by no means appropriating cred as if this was my own creation! Au contraire, it was the make-up of Stacey Humell; the cut/color/extensions of scissormeister Irene Urias of Hairroin, Hollywood’s hottest salon (www.hairroinsalon.com), and–excluding the Westwood brooch–another cerebellum-melding, history-making, custom couture creation by the genius Jared Gold

(moving right along…)

Big deal if I’m “giving away too many of my secrets” by sharing this delicious little inside joke—it friggin’ slaughters me how many people took the ‘pomp and pout’ of the picture at face value. I mean, if I’m going to rock an outfit, hair and make-up that ostentatious… how could I not get “in character”?

What ELSE would I do? Smile like a politician and “compassionately” hold a stranger’s baby?

And in the meantime, reword “Let Them Eat Cake” into something more…inclusive…in tone?


It’s like this: one wink or nudge of the elbow during the Polaroid shoot, or Nhat Nguyen’s studio takes thereafter in which I “amped the prance” so high; by foppish standards it was even off-the-charts, or even a single word cluing in ‘The Children’ a la Interwebz? (No worries now: it’s been months… and while it’s a hasty generalization, yes: gnats have better attention spans than they do, for the most part.)

Let’s face the music, sweetcheeks:

Simply wouldn’ta worked.

Art versus Artifice // Appearance versus Reality // Truth Revealed Through a Guise // Everything Is “Real”—Though What Of It Is Lies?

So many motifs swirling around in my head like a majorette’s glitter-fringed baton at half-time…

Yet all of them beg the question, it seems:

Exactly who or what is this ‘Clint Catalyst’ supposed to be, anyway?

And why would it even matter if he (and I) weren’t among the ‘Lucky Ones’ in Flaunt magazine, issue 96?

I’ll tell ya what it was like when I spot-checked the (who cares if it’s a mere thumb-nail sized) pic, standing there, thumbing through the pricey pages in the Echo Park 7-11:

the second I saw my little powder blue top hat (by L.A.’s premier Gothic Cholita, Creepsuela Switchletto: “big ups” to my shiv-wieldin’ glamour sis), I felt a surge of validation sweep over me like the frost-bitten clouds fleeing a freezer behind me as some nameless faceless customer opened then sealed shut the door.

No doubt this earth-shattering, molar-splitting, life-changing moment is fraught with layers of meaning… but c’mon, isn’t everything? (Unless, of course, it’s deconstructed to the bloodless core of nothingness—but that’s so Small-Town-Liberal-Arts-School-Curriculum-For-30K+-A-Year-Of-Make-Believe, I’d rather just ‘keep it real’ and say

Mostest Massive thanks to Photographer Melissa Manning and Flaunt magazine!

Shit you nunca, y’all: that was wickedcool of you, and was “Really Saying Something…”


Verbose? Hell yes. I conquer “tl;dr” pussywillows one paragraph at a time—deal with it, or head off for culturally-stimulating activities like an episode of “Cops” or a Budweiser-fueled swirly-go-’round-and-then-down on the Sunset Strip’s Mechanical Bull.

“I.D.G.I,” arseholians. (Said, of course, with the deepest affection…)

Besides: this is kind of like, my diary…yo?

All the same, there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you, though: the printwork I’m most stoked about as of late is a two-page editorial in the latest Lipstick Prophets catalog/magazine.

Here’s one of the images from the spread…

Copies are available through LipstickProphets.com for a scant 2 1/2 bones — and that’s with free shipping and handling, dearlings.

With the American economy in the shitter as it is, at least somebody’s followed my lead regarding “Other Humanitarian Acts That Require Little or No Effort.”

The Clint’s Notes version?

Have passport; will travel. ‘Handling’ is subjective terminology best discussed in lush, exotic locales—and, as with everything else in life, varies from individual to individual (all the while assured that we’re treated equally: It is, after all, the American Way!).

Air Kisses and Ass Kissing,

CC “Giving You” L.A.

in the best of

worst of


(and vice-versa)

“To Push Away Or Clutch” — Spoken Word by Clint Catalyst


No, I don’t hit every line in the prose-poem verbatim.

Yes, I wrote it. It’s ancient history, actually…but I chose the piece as a ‘sampling of my wares’–so to speak–because it’s self-contained and just under the 10 minute mark.

BACKGROUND INFO: This performance was filmed on the day that basically determined whether or not I’d have a sample of my art hanging in “>The Andy Warhol Museum. By “hanging,” I mean via 50 inch flat-screen monitor complete with bitchen sound system, by which with my monologue screened on endless repeat. [The experience of entering the room on opening night and hearing my far-from-soothing voice ricochet around the institution’s pristine white walls? Surreal. Sublime . . . and ______________ ]

That Once-In-A-Lifetime pressure paired with 5 1/2 single-spaced pages of text to memorize?

I’m just glad I pulled it off…
Though of course, I’m exponentially more grateful to Glenn Kaino, who’s the reason my work and I were even featured in the reknown Pittsburgh museum. Short of the long: including me as one his “Uberstars” in Transformer: The Work Of Glenn Kaino an 8-year retrospective of his sculpture/photography.

Catalottalisp was “served, and proper” from May 3 – August 31st, 2008, thanks to Mr. kaino and the curators’ hospitality.

This clip would not exist without the camera skills of Nhat Nguyen and editing prowess of Diego Garza.


Wardrobe by Jared Gold

Hair cut and color by Luis Payne of Hairroin Salon

† † †

Hairroin Salon, Hollywood’s white-hot epicenter of cool, is owned and run by scissormeister Janine Jarman.

† † †

For the image on exhibit, however?

Hair styling/color by Irene Urias of Hairroin;
make-up by Stacey Hummell.

(Watch for the “end result” of Kaino’s portrait of Clint, as taken by Polaroid Big Shot

in the compendium

The Work of Glenn Kaino: Communicating Rooks,

scheduled for an June 2009 release through the premier art publishing house, Hatje Cantz:


Effing PROPS, all y’all!

x o x

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Archived Blogature: Birthday Party, 2008

Clint Catalyst birthday party 2008

Audrey Kitching, Clint Catalyst, Dirk Mai and…

CHICKEN HEAD! Shot by milliner Ms. Creepsuela Switchletto herself “in medias res.”

“What’s the ‘feel’ for Creepsuela’s line of cravats and top hats?” You ask.


Color, cut and extensions by Irene Urias (with assistance from Luis Payne) of Hairroinsalon.com

Make-up by Bella Muerta

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Umm, I’m “Kind Of A Big Deal…”

“‘Big Deal,’ Katastrophe’s music video, is a creative retelling of June 3, 1968, when artist Andy Warhol was shot by the writer Valerie Solanas. In this play on the Warhol Superstar Factory complete with glitter blood, hip-hop artist Katastrophe fills Andy’s shoes and director Hilary Goldberg cameos as Solanas. Shot on Super 8 film with a colorful ensemble cast including Clint Catalyst, Audrey Kitching, and Dirk Mai, Big Deal pays homage to one of the darkest moments in pop culture history. Music by Katastrophe. Directed by Hilary Goldberg. Director of Photography Alison Kelly. Artist Cameos & Cast listed in tags.”

(Video embedded and text taken from YouTube channel “hilarygo”)