Yesterday, I went to see the David Hockney Portraits exhibit at LACMA. It was a pretty straight forward drive straight down Wilshire. I paid my $12 admission and entered into a room, filled with warmth and a sense of mortality. The moments Hockney depicted were gone, people changed, died, and all we are left with are memories, that he is sharing with the viewers. On display were his personal photo album and numerous sketchbooks. He has deep relationships with his subjects and that special bond translates well into his artistic expression.

Because of his focus on portraits of his family and friends, often in his studio, the room exuded a deep sense of humanity. His polaroid compositions appealed to me. I saw the influence of photography in most of his work. They captured an intimacy between the subjects and also revealed his relationship to them. His heart came through in his work and that made each piece great.

At the end of the show, I saw a clear, plastic glass, with lipstick-smeared rim, stuffed with cigarette buds and napkins. It was the most striking object to me. It reminded me of a life lived. Hockney's work put me into that frame of mind and the glass symbolized everyday existence, as life is lived one day at a time, each moment the most unique and special.