Into the "Wood".

I will come clean today.
I will admit and own up to my worldly unawareness.
But as they say "live and learn". And possibly stop making a fool you yourself.

Once we arrived in Miami we got bombarded with the Art Basel subject matter. But it wasn't an educational brain wash. We kept hearing things like "you have to check the Art Basel", "it's going to get so crowded now with the Basel coming to town". This event could have entitled a large amount of subjects.
My food embossed Italian brain very quickly directed my train of thought to the culinary world. I genuinely believed that Basel was actually Basil and that the whole shebang was dedicated to Mediterranean food.
First of all how presumptuous of me! How the hell did I think it was possible that such fuss was made around my birth land chow.
Second I wish people came equipped with captioning. Subtitles that automatically activate when they detect a silly foreigner like me on their radar.
Luckily I only shared my conundrum with my hubby.
He was not impressed but mercifully I haven't received any divorce paper...yet...

So it was BASEL, the global event that stages art shows for Modern and Contemporary works and not BASIL, the Old World aromatic annual herb in the mint family, cultivated for its leaves.
Glad I got that cleared out.

In the attempt to redeem my self I furiously engaged in a tuition crash course on the Art Basel subject. But I had to do it my way. Just like Sinatra. 
Online I bumped into the "Freedom to be Different" event's web site. The occasion was geared towards the LGBT community for Art Basel bringing Art and Music together. And a lot of fashionably dressed camp-ness.

Off we went, hubby and I, to the whimsical world of Wynwood by night. Holy Trinity ( our friend ) was supposed to support the community that supports her, but she was driving to Orland the day after to get her Beyonce hair done. It's a whole day production, but she looks amazing in it, wind machine and all. HT needed her beauty sleep so it was only the two of us. Just like Hansel and Gretel finding their way into the woods.

If you have never been in an art district during a big expo event you can't possibly understand the saga that the ordeal entitle. It felt like we were going to Oz but instead of the yellow brick road we had to stay on NW 3rd Ave. More or less the same deal since we did come across many unusual characters, just like Dorothy did. But way less musically inclined.

The main dilemma was where the hell we were gonna park our rental car. It's a tiny red tuna can but she still needs a bit of room. The streets were as busy as during after work rush hour. Even soccer moms were taking a ride on their truck like SUV's so they wouldn't feel left out. And since we had no cash on us for a valet parking ( yes hubby, we should have got "dinero" from the ATM like you suggested ) we had to find an off street spot.
We followed these easy steps:
download the "paybyphone" app, and register our credit card, and register our car, and find the sign that tells you in which location you are, and wait!...the 3G signal is coming and going, and wait!...I need to double check the license plate - oh shit now it's raining - ...
It was like hitting one of the Public offices in Italy. Tormenting and time-consuming. The infamous double T's.
We ended up parking here:

Safety first.

Feeling quite accomplished by the outcome of our parking saga, we headed to the venue with our hearts full of hope and anticipation. The walk to our destination was an art gallery by itself. A melting pot of legit art people, hipsters and authentic wackos.

LEGIT ART PEOPLE

The legit art people usually sport white long hair, always wear black clothing and the shape of their garments resemble a potato sack or a caftan. But very refined shit. The fabric is made of some rare fiber and died in squid ink. Big glasses and huge semi-precious stone accessories finish the look. You are good to go. They wear something as substantial as they are. No need for frills. Art is not superfluous.

HIPSTERS
 

The hipster characters require a longer preparation time. They must look like they don't care about their look even though their ensemble is as studied as a politician's campaign run. Nothing is left to chance. It's more of a male trend though mainly because vital part of this movement is having a beard. Your facial hair ( from eyebrows to nose hair ) must be manicured like the gardens of Versailles. They must have their hair cut exclusively at a barber shop and if you are lacking in locks wear a hat two sizes smaller than your head ( it must sit on top of your skull like a Jewish Kippah ). Sleeve tattoos are also essential since you are only allowed to wear short sleeves T-shirt ( don't wear long sleeves, get them inked into your skin, it's more practical, right? ). Converse shoes are the foundation on which you build your outfit and your pants require a very skinny pair of "pins". "Skinny fit" is the hipster's "Amen". They also listen to obscure indie bands only recorded on vinyls. You are allowed dark coffee and unique drink brands, imported from Finland and brewed out of moss. Remember to recycle, but showering is not essential. Main stream is evil, vintage rules. And to finish the presentation please have a lit cigarette at all time. Special effect haze will give you the interesting factor, which you are hiding the lack of behind all those smoke & mirrors.

The Hipster Propaganda Poster.

AUTHENTIC WACKOS

For the authentic wackos the term "wacko" is used loosely, with endearing value. They are genuine and that's a rare quality. With them you know what you getting ( good or bad ). My parents used to be part of them in the 70's. Then they got a mortgage.

Authentic wackos sincerely don't care what they put on their backs or in their lungs as long as it makes them feel relaxed. Their scent of choice is Ganja, and they erased the need of a hair dresser by either wearing dreadlocks or avoiding brushes and combs all together, as a political statement. Their dogs don't need a leash and neither do they. They are harmless but rather loud. Wackos are friendly but the fact that they move in pacts can sometimes make them appear intimidating. They revere graffiti artists.

A Wacko's God makes art in Wynwood. It's legal here.

Here are a few art pieces we found on "The Wynwood Walls" :

The fetishist Sumo wrestler.

Fuck a duck.

Re-purposed thrift shop gems.

Rarity.

The yellow mural is by the South African artist DALeast.

It was done in only 30 minutes.

DALeast is based in Cape Town, South Africa with his wife fellow street artist Faith47. 

My street artist name should be Doubt81.

DALeast is used to working fast on his murals in order to evade arrest, it took him just under 30 minutes to complete this one. FLASH!

He is the same nationality as my hubby so he deserved a special mention.

Whils from Portugal.

This is how it's made. He tries to focus on the act of destruction to create.

More walls.

Myself listening to the Dalai Lama.

We handled this overwhelming yet mesmerizing street parade very well,
and arrived safe and stoned ( like in Studio 54 the dope was airborne ) at the address to impress.
We indeed were impressed when they asked us to pay 50$ each for the entrance. But we thought "it's money to support our community" so we swiped our plastic and were given a neon pink tag bracelet. How quaint.
To be said that is was quite early and I did not expect to have the whole shindig already happening in full force, but at least the presence of a canape-girl trotting around serving the nosh they promised us at the entrance, would have been a kind gesture. Seriously for 50 bucks each we could have gone out for dinner...when I am hungry I get bitchy, I call it "hunchy". Code word "hunchy" means I need food or I will julienne your balls.
The warehouse turned into art gallery, discotheque and mingling ground for the LGBT folks, looked rather striking.

The Mermaid Room.

This was the location of the screening of "South Beach on Heels".  The award winning documentary took us on a more intimate journey in the life of the "Palace" drag queen and transgender performers. Those wonderful girls were watching the movie they starred in with the rest of us. I will be honest and I won't say it was an amazing cinematic effort, but it was interesting seeing what the performers looked like out of drag.
If you would like to see an epic documentary about the same subject, do yourself a favor and watch Paris is Burning. The documentary focuses on drag queens living in New York City and their "house" culture, which provides a sense of community and support for the flamboyant performers. And it is filled with Authentic Wackos! It's a must!

The big warehouse space.

Inflatable art.

DJ booth.

Dali' is watching.

Heart of bullets.

King of Hearts.

Just one of many.

By the time we have seen all of this, and what you saw here is a tiny taste of the whole display, our "paybyphone" parking time was expiring and just like Cinderella we had to be on our way ( it was still a school night after all ).
I was very happy I ventured into Wynwood by night, and I am even happier there is still so much more to discover.
I was also very glad I had the chance to sport my new jumpsuit. Yes you've read it correctly. I am making jumpsuits become a boys thing too. Here is how you can go at it:

Using a container as a canvas.

As this piece of art says:

I am planning a jumpsuit democracy.
Jumpsuits for all.

Ciao for now.