It is rare to step into a room where the walls ripple with Icelandic wind, hum with the volcanic heat of Hawaii, and pulse with a wide-eyed color of an Amsterdam trip. This June, West Hollywood becomes a gateway to this world with the arrival of Through the Brush, a pop-up solo exhibit by Los Angeles-based painter Andrew Max Modlin.

The show, curated by renowned critic Peter Frank, opens Saturday, June 7, with an artist’s reception from 4 p.m. to 9 p.m. and runs through June 21 in a studio located at 411 N. La Cienaga Blvd.

Expectations are high — featuring large-scale landscapes, a DJ set, libations and above all, the possibility of escape.

The paintings themselves are immersive 60” x 72” dreamscapes that pull directly from Modlin’s travels to Iceland, Hawaii, Mexico and Amsterdam. They serve as both visual memories and portals to another place in the world, inspired by his travels.

“Traveling is one of the most important things to me because it allows you to see outside your bubble and understand how diverse the world really is,” said Modlin.

He considers the places he visits as extensions of home.

“I immerse myself in what palette the location makes me feel and that immediately comes out in my drawings. It’s bringing that experience back to my studio that makes each painting so diverse because it really has the essence of that location in it.” As the show coincides with Amsterdam’s 750-year anniversary, Modlin says many of the works will be grounded in the city’s distinctive atmosphere.

To understand the intention behind Modlin’s paintings, it helps to understand the artist himself. Modlin is an openly queer artist best known as the co-founder and brand designer behind the cannabis dispensary MedMen and Kreation Organic Juicery. Though successful in business, the pull towards painting never left.

“The fact that I wasn’t painting haunted me all those years because I always felt like that was my life calling,” he said. For a change of pace, Modlin made a drastic change and relocated to Amsterdam. “In that time, I developed how I draw digitally on the iPad.”

That iPad plays an essential role in Modlin’s creative process. His digital sketches are more than rough drafts — they are explosive playgrounds.

“The iPad is where I get to be reckless,” said Modlin. “There’s something precious about a blank canvas but that sense of preciousness doesn’t exist on the iPad.” Without the fear of failure, Modlin can “rapidly sketch with colors that would take much longer to mix by hand,” pushing beyond the limits of traditional materials.

Back in Los Angeles, he focused on translation — how to bridge the digital and physical. “Once I move to the canvas,” explained Modlin. “The process shifts. It becomes more about the physicality of the paint and the act of painting itself than the original composition.”

That act is deliberate and cumulative. “My paintings are a slow, layered process where each brushstroke is a response to the one before it,” said Modlin. “The final piece becomes a record of that dialogue between gesture, surface, and duration.” His works aren’t meant to be consumed all at once — they reveal themselves slowly. Up close, hidden details emerge; from afar, emotions stir. “I hope the viewer starts by getting lost within the painting,” stated Modlin.

Modlin doesn’t see painting as a hobby — it’s a deep expression of self as his work resonates with lived experience. “I’ve always believed in the power of starting things within our own community.” That ethos led Modlin to open MedMen in West Hollywood, making him the first queer dispensary owner in the neighborhood. “With my debut solo exhibition,” said Modlin. “It felt just as important to me that it take place in West Hollywood, the community I live in and care deeply about.”

Through the Brush may feel like a breakthrough, but for Modlin, it’s just the beginning. “For me, success now means seeing my work shown around the world, in spaces that elevate and challenge it.” As Modlin imagines his next chapter, the invitation is clear: “I’d love for that visibility to open the door to working even larger on a scale that allows for something deeply expressive and immersive.”

This Pride Month, we’re turning up the volume and the visibility with Loud & Proud — a bold new campaign from Culture Machine in collaboration with Last Prisoner Project, produced by Izzi Cavotta, Kaylen Ng and Merari Chavarría. Featuring beloved drag artists like LaGanja Estranja, Jorgeous, Sabiyana and many others, Loud & Proud celebrates the queer legacy of cannabis activism while demanding a future where no one is incarcerated for a plant and no one is punished for being proud.

At first glance, it might seem that the cannabis legalization movement and the LGBTQ rights movement are two separate struggles. But when you trace the smoke back to its source, you’ll find that queer liberation and cannabis justice have long burned from the same flame.

Before California became the first state to legalize medical marijuana in 1996 through Prop 215, its roots of resistance began with queer activists who were already leading the charge. Prop 215 would not have passed without the efforts of HIV/AIDS activists, many of them queer, who demanded compassionate access to cannabis as medicine. Dennis Peron, a gay man who lost his partner to AIDS, co-authored Prop 215. His earlier work on San Francisco’s Prop P in 1991 helped pave the way, allowing doctors to recommend cannabis for medical purposes.

But the history runs deeper. In 1978, Harvey Milk — California’s first openly gay elected official — pushed a ballot initiative urging the San Francisco District Attorney to stop prosecuting marijuana possession. This was decades before either movement found mainstream support, but Milk and Peron knew what too many still forget: the systems that criminalize queerness and cannabis use are one and the same.

Today, more than 575 pieces of anti-LGBTQ legislation are circulating in statehouses across the country. And while cannabis is legal in some form in most U.S. states, the criminalization of the plant still ensnares marginalized communities — especially queer and trans people.

LGBTQ folks have always had to navigate systems that criminalize their survival. Often shut out of traditional employment and housing due to stigma and discrimination, many have turned to criminalized economies — including cannabis — for community, income and healing. As a result, they’ve been disproportionately policed, prosecuted and punished.

According to the Prison Policy Initiative, in 2019 gay, lesbian, and bisexual individuals were more than twice as likely to be arrested as their straight peers. One in five trans women has been incarcerated. Nearly half of all Black trans people have faced imprisonment. And while hard data on cannabis-specific charges is limited (a data gap that speaks volumes), we know anecdotally and statistically that LGBTQ folks are overrepresented in the system.

To this day, mainstream cannabis rhetoric rarely accounts for these intersectional realities. And when queer folks are included, it’s often in tokenized marketing — not in leadership, policy spaces, or commutation campaigns.

The Loud & Proud campaign isn’t just about rainbow-wrapped pre-rolls and glittery photo ops (though we love those, too). It’s about honoring the queer elders, like Brownie Mary, who fought for our rights to exist and medicate. It’s about amplifying the voices of those still behind bars. And it’s about claiming space — in the streets, on the stage, and in the industry — for those who’ve been systematically shut out.

From drag stages to protest marches, from poetry to policy, our community has always used creativity as a form of resistance. This campaign is no different. Together, we’re using joy as protest. We’re using glamour as grit. And yes, we’re putting our lighters up — for every queer person who’s ever been arrested for weed, every trans woman locked away for surviving, and every drag artist who uses cannabis as both healing and defiance.

Cannabis companies: if you’re profiting off Pride or cannabis, you need to be funding queer liberation and cannabis clemency work. Consumers: ask who’s on the board, who’s in leadership and who’s still in prison. And to everyone: show up, not just during Pride month, but all year long.

As we celebrate how far we’ve come, we must remember who helped get us here — and who’s still waiting for their freedom.

This Pride, let’s be LOUD & PROUD. Let’s put our lighters up in their honor. Let’s fight for their release. Let’s demand justice, together.

Stephen Post is a Strategic Communications Manager at the Last Prisoner Project (LPP), a national, nonpartisan nonprofit dedicated to freeing everyone still incarcerated for cannabis and helping them rebuild their lives. He also serves the City of West Hollywood as a Public Safety Commissioner.

If queer culture itself had a Mount Rushmore, Grace Jones would be carved in obsidian, glowing like a disco ball, with cheekbones sharp enough to slice through time. She is no mere performer — she is a provocation, a movement, a fierce force to be reckoned with. This June 15, at the iconic Hollywood Bowl, Miss Jones takes the stage once more — not as a nostalgia act, but as a living, breathing beacon of artistry, abounding soul and queer defiance.

It’s only appropriate that Jones headlines the Blue Note Jazz Festival, a space known for legends and nonconformists alike. Because that’s what she’s always done: bend genre, bend gender and bend the very idea of identity. Long before the mainstream caught up with conversations about fluidity and expression, Jones was already there, prowling through Studio 54 in Issey Miyake couture, turning disco into performance art, queering fashion and queering music simply by refusing to be anything but herself.

In the late 70s, New York nightlife was church and Jones was its high priestess that the disciples of disco and dance bowed down to. Her early hits like I Need a Man and La Vie en Rose weren’t just dance floor anthems to get down to — they were declarations of an unapologetic presence. She became the face of a new sect of glamour — androgynous, untamed and transcendent. With her sleek flat-top and surreal persona, she turned herself into a living sculpture — black, bold and utterly uncategorizable. While others played roles, Jones crafted her own mythos.

Without a doubt, the queer community took notice of her magnetism. Not just because she radiated. Not just because she could command a stage in heels taller than their dreams. They took notice because she embodied the purest form of liberation. She was dangerous, defiant, and divine. The kind of icon you didn’t just admire but you emulated. To be queer in the shadow of Jones was to know that defiance could be not just sexy but sacred, that identity could be art.

Her influence transcends both decades and genres. Nightclubbing, Warm Leatherette and Living My Life didn’t just experiment — they shattered expectations. She sang Joy Division like a glistening goddess and made Sting’s Demolition Man sound like a god damned prophecy. Songs like Pull Up to the Bumper weren’t just hits, but cultural cataclysms. Even now, Beyoncé’s invitation to Grace on Renaissance resonated less like a feature and more as a coronation.

The most inspiring aspect about Jones is that she’s never been part of the machine. She is the machine. A postmodern construct of fashion and fearlessness in the funkiest of forms. Her 2008 album, Hurricane and her 2014 memoir, I’ll Never Write My Memoirs, unearthed a soul as deep as her basslines. She told the world how she turned religious repression into self-made divinity. Jones danced with Leary, painted with Warhol and eviscerated the boundaries of possibility.

And now with her show at the Hollywood Bowl, Jones arrives not as a relic, but as a reckoning. For queer folks, especially our Black queer queens, kings and all of that royalty in between, Jones represents more than just music. She is the liberation incarnate. She is proof that our futures can be as extravagantly ungovernable and as radiant as we want to make it. Jones is not the past nor the future. She exists beyond our mere three dimensions and linear concept of time. She is pure unfiltered prophecy.

When she steps onto that stage lit like the Phoenix that she is, we won’t just be witnessing a performance. We’ll be honoring Queer legacy. And, if we are lucky, we will get a taste of whatever the next version of Jones is evolving into. She evolves, reinvents, reclaims — and in doing so, reminds us that we can, too.

Grace Jones will headline The Blue Note Jazz Festival on Sunday, June 15 at The Hollywood Bowl. Click here for tickets.

WeHo Pride is now fully underway with an arts festival happening now, leading up to a weekend-long worth of events celebrating the kick-off of Pride season. 

On Friday, May 31, the Women’s Freedom Festival will take over the Celebration Stage, celebrating women’s rights — and wrongs. The event is co-sponsored and produced by the L-Project, featuring emerging and local artists from the LGBTQ and QTBIPOC identities, including activists, musicians, poets and comedians. 

The exciting lineup of events features an arts festival that is currently hitting the streets of West Hollywood, the historic Dyke March featuring Dykes on Bikes and Pride Riders L.A. — an organization for queer and lesbian women motorcycle riders — and much, much more. 

Katrina Vinson is the founder of Pride Riders L.A., working hard over the last few years to bring much-needed visibility to dykes, women who love women and nonbinary people who identify as sapphics. 

Her application to start the first Dykes on Bikes Los Angeles chapter is about more than branding. It’s about connection to a legacy of activism — dating back to the group’s 1976 founding in San Francisco, when leather-clad lesbians led the Pride parade in defiance of the police force and society’s patriarchal norms.

“It’s not just about riding,” Vinson says. “It’s about showing up for each other and reminding the world that we’re still here, still loud, still proud — and still riding.”

Pride Riders LA will feature an all-women and nonbinary people lineup of motorcycle bike riders, revving their engines all up and down West Hollywood. Pride Riders LA will roll in following the Women’s Freedom Festival, creating a transition from stage to street. The call for riders is already underway—with an emphasis on inclusivity and outreach to younger riders, trans and nonbinary folks, and LGBTQ+ bikers of color.

Jackie Steele is a multi-faceted community organizer and longtime activist who has built a reputation in queer and sapphic spaces. She is the Los Angeles District Attorney LGBTQ+ Advisory Board Chair, LA County Sheriff Robert Luna LGBTQ+ Advisory Board Member, and was previously the Public Safety Commissioner for the City of West Hollywood, Co-Chair of the LGBTQ+ Advisory Board of the City of West Hollywood and a self-proclaimed militant queer.

“Chris Baldwin runs the L-project and what they’ve put together is a concert and an event that is a true celebration of intersectional queer identities,” said Jackie Steele. “We worked really hard to work with the city to create a space that was accessible for everybody, where folks can just come out, enjoy the street fair and enjoy themselves.” 

This year, they are expecting around 50 bikes to roll through for the Dyke March, so if you’ve never been, this will be a moment to remember, some might even call it a canon event. 

“If you’ve never been, Dyke March is a celebration of dykes and what lesbians have done in the community — which is often under-celebrated,” said Steele. “There’s going to be bikes everywhere, engines roaring, a live program on stage and we will be fists in the air, standing together.” 

WeHo Pride will take over Santa Monica Blvd., over the weekend. Check the West Hollywood Pride events page to keep up with street closures, parking information and full lineup of performers and events.

Most of us who have lived long enough to get nostalgic for our formative years have, by now, watched enough documentaries about a beloved entertainment icon from our past to know what to expect when a new one comes along.

Such offerings are typically slick biographical portraits blending archival material with newly filmed “talking head” reminiscences and commentaries, and perhaps punctuated by eye-catching animations or other flourishes to add an extra layer of visual interest; heavy on the nostalgia and mostly reverent in tone, they satisfy us with pleasant memories, supplement our knowledge with behind-the-history insights and revelations, and leave us – ideally – with a renewed appreciation and a reinforced feeling of comfortable familiarity. Many of them are little more than retrospectives, more glossy tribute than in-depth profile; occasionally, a few go beyond the surface to give us a deeper sense of personal connection with their subject – but rarely enough, even in the best of them, to make us feel as if we know them well.

No matter how many of these docs you have seen, however, or jaded your expectations may be when you approach it, “Pee-wee as Himself” is still going to surprise you.

Directed by filmmaker Matt Wolf, the two-part HBO docuseries – which premiered May 23 and is now streaming on Max – is built around material culled from 40 hours of interview footage with the late Paul Reubens (the creator and performer behind nerdy, manic cultural phenomenon and children’s show host “Pee-wee Herman,” for anyone that needs to be told), and conducts a “guided tour” of Reubens’ singular career in the limelight. The first installment traces a path from his Florida childhood through his early adventures as an actor and performance artist in Los Angeles to his rapid rise to fame through the popularity of his carefully crafted alter-ego; part two continues the story to explore the expansion of his fame through the phenomenon of “Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” but soon shifts gears to cover his sudden fall from grace after a notorious “public indecency” arrest in an adult theater, and the subsequent accusations of collecting “child pornography” that unfairly branded him as a pedophile in the public eye — and comes full circle to document his return to favor as an underdog hero for the generation that had grown up watching him. 

Besides its detailed chronicle of these already-well-known chapters in Reubens’ life, however, Wolf’s doc (and Reubens, via frequent full-frame close-up commentary throughout) delves into publicly uncharted territory to give us a look at something we’ve never been allowed to see before: Paul Reubens himself.

That includes, of course, removing any ambiguity that might remain about the sexuality of the man behind the bow tie, who never publicly identified as gay before his death from cancer in 2023. It’s not so much a “coming out” — after all, he artfully teased his queerness to fans for years — as it is a dropping of pretense. There’s no need for a definitive statement announcing something that everybody already knew, anyway.

That’s not to say he skirts the issue as he delivers his full-frame close-up testimonial to the camera; on the contrary, he reflects often and with bittersweet candor about the carefully-managed matter of his sexuality – or the public’s perception of it, at any rate – with the matter-of-fact eloquence of someone who’s spent a lot of time thinking about it. He openly discusses his choice to keep the closet door closed on his personal life in order to preserve Pee-wee’s ambiguously wholesome yet irresistibly subversive persona in the public’s imagination, and to abandon his openly queer life (as well as a loving long term relationship, one of the series’ biggest “reveals”) to do so.”I was as out as you could be,” he reflects with rueful irony, “and then I went back in.”

Indeed, it’s Reubens’s sexuality that ultimately emerges as the show’s core focus — even more than the rich treasure trove of personal photos, home movies, behind-the-scenes footage, and all the other fan-thrilling delights it provides — and gives it a larger significance, perhaps than even the man himself. It’s a thread that runs through his story, impacting his choices and the trajectory of his career, and reflecting the familiar shared experience of many audience members who may be able to relate; later, it manifests on a societal level, as Wolf and his subject explore the homophobic attitudes behind the legal persecution that would bring his rising star into a tailspin and hang over his reputation for the rest of his life. It serves as both a reminder of the power of cultural bigotry to repress queerness and a cautionary tale about the personal cost of repressing oneself.

A good number of Reubens’ longtime friends (like Cassandra Petersen, aka “Elvira, Mistress of the Dark,” “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” costar David Arquette, and former “girlfriend” Debi Mazar, who provided support, acceptance, and companionship in the wake of his legal troubles), come along for the ride, offering their own reminiscences and insights into official record, as well as lesser-known members of an inner circle that comprised the late artist’s chosen family. Yet all these testimonials, authentic as they may be, are not what enable “Pee-wee as Himself” to bring us closer to the real Paul Reubens. It’s Reubens himself who does that.

Maintaining an ambiguously hostile edge in his interviews, bringing to light a clash for control between himself and director Wolf with as much clarity as he illuminates the vast archival material that is shown to document his career, he demonstrates firsthand the need to manage his own narrative, balking, even openly resisting, certain questions and interpretations that arise throughout. It gives the real Reubens the same vague menace with which Pee-wee was also infused — and also creates a sort of meta-narrative, in which the conflict between subject and director must also be resolved before the story can truly achieve closure, calling into question whether Reubens (a veteran of avant-garde theater and lifelong fan of the circus) might not be adding yet another layer of mystery and performance to his image even as he gets honest publicly for the very first time.

That closure eventually comes in the form of a voice recording made by Reubens the day before his death — after a six year battle with lung cancer (he was a heavy smoker, another personal detail he painstakingly hid from the public) which, save for those in his innermost circle, he never revealed until the end — in which he delivers a final message to the world. With it, he finally accomplishes what he never could during his life, and lets us see, at last, who he was when he wasn’t being Pee-wee.

And it’s a beautiful thing.

Photographer, multimedia artist and creative director, Emily Eizen gracefully photographed the fashionably-dressed attendees of our 8th annual Best of LGBTQ LA Awards. She brought the glitz and the glamour, just as much as those who attended.

Here are a few of her best shots.

(All photos credit and courtesy of Emily Eizen)

LA Blade Publisher, Alexander Rodriguez poses next to LA Blade Editor, Gisselle Palomera.

Attendees mix and mingle, some eagerly awaiting to see if they won a Best of LGBTQ LA award and others casually hanging out in support of the nominees.

Mayor of West Hollywood Chelsea Lee Byers poses next to Tristan Schukraft, owner of The Abbey. Schukraft flew in for the awards show along with his crew.

Victoria “DJ Vic Jagger” Valenzuela and Francisco “DJ Frandisco” Aviles-Pino pose together for a photo. DJ Vic Jagger was a finalist for the Best of LGBTQ LA Award for Best DJ.

Everyone was feeling the vibes here, from the fashion fits, to the fire moves.

Famous influencer, comedian and Kamala Harris impersonator, performed at the show, bringing her dyke vibes to the function. Journalist, Joel Medina assisted us with interviews of some of the nominees and performers.

Pickle the Drag Queen received recognition from the office of Assemblymember Rick Chavez Zbur.

Read more about the nominees and the awards in an article written by Rob Solerno.

Healing and uplifting communities through music and unity is the foundation of this event space created by Zacil “DJ Sizzle Fantastic” Pech and Norma “Normz La Oaxaqueña” Fajardo. 

For nearly a decade DJ Sizzle has built a reputation in the queer POC and Spanish-speaking undocumented communities for making the space for them to come together to celebrate their culture and partake in the ultimate act of resistance — joy. 

Couples, companions, comadres all dance together on the dancefloor at Cumbiatón. (Photo courtesy of Cumbiatón).

Cumbiatón was created during the first Trump administration as a direct response to the erasure, racism, homophobia and xenophobia that was engrained into the administration’s mission for those first four years. Now that the second Trump administration is upon us, the racism, homophobia, transphobia and xenophobia are tenfold.

This event space is a ‘party for the hood, by the hood.’ It is led by women, queer and trans people of color in every aspect of the production process.

The recent fires that burned through Altadena and Pacific Palisades made DJ Sizzle decide to step back from marketing the event in Los Angeles, an area where people had just lost their businesses, homes and where their lives were completely thrown for a loop. 

Now they’re back, doubling-down on their mission to bring cumbias, corridos and all the music many of us grew up listening to, to places that are accessible and safe for our communities. 

“I started Cumbiatón back in 2016, right after the election — which was weirdly similar because we’re going through it again. And a lot of us come from the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) movement. We were the ones to really push for that to happen along with the DREAM Act.”

DJ Sizzle says that she wanted to create a space out on the streets to celebrate life and come together, because of how mentally and physically taxing it is to be a part of the marginalized communities that were and still are, a major target for ongoing political attacks.

Edwin Soto and Julio Salgado pose for a photo at a Cumbiaton event in 2024. (Photo courtesy of Cumbiatón).

“We need these spaces so that we can kind of refuel and rejoice in each other’s existence,” said DJ Sizzle. “Because we saw each other out on the street a lot, but never did we really have time to sit down, have a drink, talk, laugh. So I found that music was the way to bring people together and that’s how Cumbiatón got started. It was honestly like a movement of political resistance through music.”

DJ Sizzle is an undocumented community organizer who aims to not only bring awareness to the issues that her communities face, but also to make space to celebrate the wins and bond over the music that brings people in Latin America, East L.A., Boyle Heights and the Bay area together.  

Julio Salgado, a queer, visionary artist and migrant rights activist from Ensenada, Baja California with roots in Long Beach and the Bay Area, connected with DJ Sizzle over their shared passion in advocating for immigrant rights. 

“Cumbiatón was created during the first [Trump] administration, where you know, a lot of people were really bummed out and so what Sizzle wanted to create was a place where people could come together and celebrate ourselves,” said Salgado. “Fast-forward to the second [Trump] administration and we’re here and feel a little bit more like: ‘oh shit, things are bad again.’ But, things have always been bad.”

Salgado is involved with Cumbiatón through his art. He is a mixed-media artist who creates cartoons using his lived experience with his sobriety journey, undocumented status and queer identity.

With a background in journalism from California State University, Long Beach, Salgado documents what activists do in the undocumented spaces he has been a part of throughout his life. 

In 2017, Salgado moved back to Long Beach from the Bay Area, and at the time he started doing political artwork and posters for protests against the first Trump administration, but because the nature of that work can be very tiring, he says that he turned to a more uplifting version of his art where he also draws the joy and unity in his communities. 

When he and Sizzle linked up to collaborate during that time, he thought he could use his skills to help uplift this brand and bring it to the forefront of the many events that saturate the party landscape. 

DJ Sizzle doing her thing on stage, giving the crowd the music they went looking for. (Photo courtesy of Cumbiatón).

“We are familiar with using the dance floor as a way to kind of put the trauma a little bit away just for one night, get together and completely forget,” said Salgado. 

Coming from an undocumented background, Salgado and Sizzle say that their experience with their legal status has made them very aware of how to go about the ID-check process at the door for their events. 

“When you’re undocumented, you have something called a [High Security Consular Registration (HSCR)] and it’s kind of like your ID and many of these heterosexual clubs would see that and say it was fake,” said Salgado. “But at the gay club, they didn’t care.” 

Just being conscious of what that form of ID looks like and knowing that it’s not fake, helps many of the hundreds of people who come through for Cumbiatón, feel just slightly more at ease. 

Edwin Soto, who is another community activist and leader in the undocu-queer community, is also involved in the planning and organizing of the event. 

In the long journey of making Cumbiatón what it is now, they say that they have all been very intentional about who they bring in, making sure that whoever they are, they also understand the experience of being undocumented and accepted anyway. 

“Something that Sizzle and the team have been very intentional about is making sure that [the security at the door] knows that someone might be using their consulate card,” said Soto. 

Bringing together this event space is no easy task, considering the fact that their events are deeply thought out, intentional and inclusive of not just people of color, but also people with differing abilities and people who do not reflect the norm in West Hollywood clubs. 

“We created the space that we were longing for that we did not see in West Hollywood,” he said. “[Cumbiatón] is what life could really be like. Where women are not harassed by men. Where people are not body-shamed for what they’re wearing.” 

When it comes to their lives outside of Cumbiatón and partying, Sizzle says that it does get exhausting and planning the event gets overwhelming. 

“It is really difficult, I’m not going to lie,” said DJ Sizzle. “We are at a disadvantage being queer and being undocumented because this administration triggers us to a point that, anyone who is not a part of those identities or marginalized communities would ever be able to understand,” said Sizzle. “There are times where I’m just like: ‘I’m going to cocoon for a little bit’ and then that affects the marketing and the communication.” 

Usually, the events bring in hundreds of people who are looking for community, safety and inclusion. (Photo courtesy of Cumbiatón).

That’s a little bit about what goes on behind the scenes — which really shouldn’t come as a surprise for anyone who is out there fighting for basic human rights, while also making the space to party and enjoy themselves.

“I’m really trying to find balance and honestly my life raft are my friends and my community,” she said. “Like, being able to share, being able to have this plática, and be like ‘bitch, I see you and I know its fucked up, but we got each other.’”

Cumbiatón was made with the purpose of making space to include and invite the many different people in these communities who are otherwise sidelined in broader conversations and in party scenes where they are not as inclusive or thoughtful about their attendees. 

“How beautiful is it to be queer and listen to rancheras and to norteñas and cumbia, and to just own it,” said Soto. 

To join Cumbiatón at their next party, visit their Instagram page.

Hello my magical beauties!

June is here and it brings the heat, passion and a little bit of mischief with it. How does this play into our lives? What magic can we throw at a situation to smooth out the bumps? Where do we need to put on our show girl smile and enjoy the glitz and glamour? Lets ask the cards and find out.

Coming in on the heels of a chaotic May, June is telling us to take a moment to find or zen and rebalance.

Get back to your gym routine and let the endorphin rush chill you out, have your next outing with your coven or spiritual family be to a sound bath, or simply make time in your schedule for some basic guided meditation videos. Whatever you need to do to find some peace and stillness, do it babes. A lot of folks are feeling depleted from the last few weeks (or months in many people’s cases) and if you don’t take a second to slow down, you will inevitably find the mythical bottom of the bottomless mimosa and it’s not pretty.

When the Universe says, “girl, slow down!” We must heed this warning before it forces us to slow down and I will be the first to say that the universe has jokes that nobody thinks are funny. I know the timing of this call for calm is awkward. Who wants a quiet night in during Pride?

I’m not saying to sit this one out, I’m saying be sure to find precious moments of seclusion and calm between the bursts of celebrations, shows, parades, and anything else you have on the agenda. If you are someone that is always on the go and has no chill, try rocking some Fluorite or Jasper (preferably Kambaba Jasper,) crystals to help you embrace some refreshing and relieving energy. 

Speaking of Pride and celebrations, the cards are showing a lot of good fortune, celebration, and elevation during this time. Throughout June many of you will not only be celebrating with the masses but the masses will be celebrating you.

And my dear, you have much to be proud of.  Strut your stuff and boldly bask in the limelight. This means take advantage of moments to insert yourself (respectively) into important conversations, go on auditions even if you feel like the role is out of your scope, or finally proposition that cutie you’ve been too shy to talk to.  Lady Luck is smiling at you and wants you to shine. You will also see recognition for the what you have been putting into work, projects and relationships. This is a good opportunity for those of you that struggle with accepting compliments and fear of success to work on it. 

Welcome in the praise and good energy, babe. 

People want to celebrate and elevate you. Roll with it. If you need some spiritual help in this department, try dabbing a bit of Sudanese Frankincense oil on the crown of your head or wrist before leaving the house or wearing tiger’s eye jewelry. 

While this month is setting a good tone for us to  recenter and get ahead in our current endeavors, some of you may be feeling stuck. The energies around you are saying that in order to get the good things that are being dangled in front of you, a sacrifice must be made. It’s a good time to remember that every good thing comes with the closing of something else.  Mysterious and terrifying sounding? Yes. Does it  have to be that way? Not at all.  I have a relatively simple and effective ritual that will help you get life back on the right track.

Take yourself out into nature to decompress and ponder what your sacrifice might be. Grab a coffee and stroll through Griffith Park or around Echo Park Lake — wherever it may be, just make sure it’s close to home because we will be revisiting this spot to wrap up this ceremony in a few days. Take your time, think about what you want and why you’re feeling stuck. What is there that may directly or indirectly be standing in your way? Let your mind flow easily and see if you arrive at an answer. If nothing comes to mind, ask yourself and spirit (whoever your higher power may be: ancestors, spirits guides, god, a plethora of pagan deities…or simply yourself), what isn’t serving you in life anymore.

Keep walking or settle under a tree until you arrive at your answer. And trust me, you will, nature spirits have a way of guiding us to clarity. Go home and prepare a cleansing bath* of sea salt, rosemary, bay leaf, lemon peel, and green tea (chamomile for those of you that are sensitive to caffeine.) Settle into your tub and while you soak, think about what it is you have been called to sacrifice- a bad habit, a toxic ex (not literally even if it does sound tempting!), staying in your comfort zone…the list goes on and on. Acknowledge where this thing once held value in your life and embrace the reason you are letting it go now.

Let the bath water wash over you from head to toe. As the water runs over you it begins to remove the energy of your sacrifice, detaching it from your body and soul. Visualize this energy it floating in the water. When you are bathing, gather the ingredients from the bath and set them aside, you will be disposing of them tomorrow. Stay in for the night, nurturing and grounding yourself. The next day, collect your bath ingredients and  go back to the place in nature where you were given the inspiration or confirmation of your sacrifice. Place the ingredients at the base of a tree or crossroads, along with an offering of fresh bread or tea. As you place them on the ground, say thank you and walk away without looking back. 

If you have the time, commitment and basic magical ingredients that are probably laying around long forgotten in your kitchen, you can work this ritual. Which means that you can get yourself unstuck and get energy flowing back into the pathways that make up your life. 

Note: If you don’t have a bath you can prepare the ingredients by wrapping them in cheesecloth and using them as a scrub in a hot shower.

June leaves us feeling empowered but probably also tired because it sounds like everyone has a lot of inner work that is coming into play. The cards assure us that the hard work not only pays off but does so quickly. There is a lot of emotional healing for those of you that decide to really put the work in this month and also promises of new emotional horizons that bring us confident new lovers, companionship and a safe space to let our hair down and just exist exquisitely…as we were meant to! 

The Los Angeles Blade celebrated its eighth annual Best of LGBTQ+ LA Awards with a spectacular show at The Abbey in West Hollywood on May 22, honoring the community’s best and brightest as selected by you, our readers.

The Awards honored our favorite bars, businesses, artists, organizations, and leaders and featured performances by drag queen Cake Moss, musicians Prince Joshua – who took home the awards for Local Musical Artist of the Year and Go-Go of the Year – and Robert Rene, comedian Allison Reese, and West Hollywood poet laureate Brian Sonia-Wallace. Drag artist Billy Francesca and LA Blade publisher Alexander Rodriguez emceed the event.

“We here in LA are excited to reflect our community, so tonight we’re honoring politicians, business owners, nightlife, entertainment, social media, and Billy,” Rodriguez said, opening the show.

One of the biggest winners of the night was queer mogul and “CEO of Everything Gay” Tristan Schukraft, who won LGBTQ Professional of the Year, while the bar he now owns, The Abbey, took Best LGBTQ Bar, and his pharmaceutical-delivery company MISTR took Best LGBTQ-owned business. 

“I’m motivated by making change. We have a purpose, and queer entrepreneurs are building a community that makes a difference,” Schukraft said. 

Drag artist and activist Pickle, who runs the LA chapter of Drag Story Hour and is West Hollywood’s first drag laureate, gave a moving speech after she was awarded the Local Hero Award, in which she encouraged anyone who’s facing distress to persevere through the darkness.

“Sometimes, just holding on for one more day is all you can do, but that is strength, and you are loved,” she said.

Transgender rights activist, model, and Blade contributor Rose Montoya was honored as Activist of the Year and Influencer of the Year, although she was unable to attend the ceremony. 

“This recognition means more than she can express,” said her brother, Prince Joshua, accepting the award on her behalf. “Activism has never been a choice for her. It’s been a necessity. As a trans person, as a person who exists at the intersection of multiple identities, she’s had to fight not just for visibility, but for dignity, safety, and the right to exist. This work is personal. And in a time where hatred is getting louder, in our laws, in our schools, and in our streets, we don’t have the luxury of staying silent.”

Weho Pride notched two wins during the ceremony, including Best Regional Pride and Best LGBTQ Event for its OutLoud Music Festival, which kick off next week.

“We have a big week ahead and hopefully we’ll see you there because Pride starts here, and Pride starts now,” said Jeff Consoletti, Producer of Weho Pride, accepting the award.

The Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles won the award for Best LGBTQ Social Group,

“The Gay Men’s Chorus of LA has been lifting our spirits through song and fighting for community and singing for all our causes since 1979,” said GMCLA Executive Director Lou Spisto, accepting the award. He also noted that the Chorus will honor Schukraft with its Voice Award at its upcoming Dancing Queens Gala June 21 at the Saban Theatre.

Trans Lifeline was awarded Non-Profit of the Year, likely a recognition of the organization’s importance as trans people have come under increasing attack across the country.

“They’ve received an increase in calls to the tune of 300%, so support your trans brothers and sisters,” Rodriguez said, announcing the award.

DJ Cazwell took home the award for best DJ, although a little mix-up had his award read Best Cannabis Retailer, a distinction that actually went to Green Qween. Cazwell spoke about how much he appreciates the community he found after moving to LA from New York. 

“I moved here from New York nine years ago and I found a community of DJs who actually support each other here, so I want to shout out the other nominees,” Cazwell said.

That’s a sentiment that was echoed by Best Bartender winner Sumner Mormeneo from Beaches, who moved to LA from Florida.

“My first six months living here was rough. It wasn’t until I got a job at a bar in Weho that it started feeling like home, so thank you,” Mormeneo said.

More than 40 awards were given out in this year’s Best of LGBTQ+ LA. See the complete list of winners.

In the new HBO two-part documentary, “Pee-wee as Himself,” director Matt Wolf gives viewers a never-before-seen look into the personal life of Paul Reubens, the comedic actor behind the much loved television persona, Pee-wee Herman. 

Filmed before Reubens passed away in 2023 from cancer, Wolf and his creative team created the riveting documentary, interspersing several interviews, more than 1,000 hours of archival footage, and tens of thousands of personal photos.

Determined to set the record straight about what really happened, Reubens discussed his diverse influences, growing up in the circus town of Sarasota, Fla., and his avant-garde theater training at the California Institute of the Arts. 

Ruebens joined the Groundlings improv group, where he created the charismatic Pee-wee Herman. He played the quirky character during the Saturday morning show, “Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” and in numerous movies, like “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” and “Big Top Pee-wee.” He also brought Pee-wee to Broadway, with “The Pee-wee Herman Show.”

To get an enigma such as Reubens to open up was no easy task for Wolf.

“I felt determined to get Paul to open up and to be his authentic self,” acknowledged Wolf at a recent press conference. “And I was being tested and I wanted to meet my match in a way so I didn’t feel frustrated or exhausted, I felt determined but I also, it was thrilling to go this deep. I’ve never been able, or I don’t know if I ever will, go this deep with another human being to interview them in an intimate way for over 40 hours.”

Wolf described the collaborative interview experience as a dream, “like we were in a bubble where time didn’t matter.” he also felt a deep connection to the material, having come of age watching “Pee-wee’s Playhouse.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to put words to it at the time, but I think it was my first encounter with art that I felt emotionally involved in,” noted Wolf.

“He continued: “I recognize that that show created a space for a certain kind of radical acceptance where creativity thrives. And as a gay filmmaker, I also recognize things like Pee-wee Herman marrying a bowl of fruit salad at a slumber party or dancing in high heels to the song, ‘Fever.’ That stuff spoke to me. So that was my connection to it.”

During the documentary, Reubens comes out as a gay man.

“Paul went into this process wanting to come out,” said Wolf. “That was a decision he had made. He was aware that I was a gay filmmaker and had made portraits of other gay artists. That was the work of mine he was attracted to, as I understood. And I wanted, as a younger person, to support him in that process, but he also was intensely sensitive that the film would overly emphasize that; or, focused entirely from the lens of sexuality when looking at his story.”

Their complicated dynamic had an aspect of “push and pull” between them. 

“I think that generational difference was both a source of connection and affinity and tension. And I do think that the level to which Paul discusses his relationships and intimacy and vulnerability and the poignant decision he made to go back into the closet. I do have to believe to some extent he shared that because of our connection.”   

Wolf hopes that the “Pee-wee as Himself” positions Reubens as one of the most “groundbreaking” performance artists of his generation who in a singular way broke through into mainstream pop culture.

“I know he transformed me. He transformed how I see the world and where I went as a creative person. And it’s so clear that I am not alone in that feeling. For me, it was fairly abstract. I couldn’t necessarily put words to it. I think people who grew up on Pee-wee or were big fans of Pee-wee, seeing the film, I hope, will help them tap into intangible and specific ways how transformative his work was for them. It really is a gift to revisit early seminal experiences you had and to see how they reverberate in you.” 

He added: “So, to me, this isn’t so much about saying Paul Reubens is a genius. I mean, that’s overly idealizing and I don’t like hero worship. It’s more about understanding why many of us have connected to his work and understanding where he lives within a legacy of performance art, television, and also, broader pop culture.”