My Name Is Peter

In fact, I think it may even be better than the original!  This guy is incredibly talented.  His name is Mike Tompkins.  Enjoy, y’all

From the first note of Adhara, I felt my mood change.  I first listened to it in my car in the midst of Los Angeles traffic.  Suddenly, I felt a soothing peace amidst an environment of grating tension.  Nirinjan Kaur’s voice is unique – both soft and powerful – with an intensely calming presence.

I practice Kundalini Yoga at Golden Bridge here in Los Angeles, and it was interesting to hear that so many of the chants played during a variety of different classes with different teachers are all right here on Adhara.  There is not one track on this CD that I did not like.  Not only is Nirinjan’s voice a pleasure to listen to, but each track is so well produced with such wonderful instrumentation that you can’t help but feel immersed in another world.

One of my favorite tracks on the album is “Triple Mantra,” which is a rare find on any Kundalini chant compilation.  Her version is perfect for an early morning Kundalini Yoga practice.  Its quick pace gets your blood flowing and helps to support breath of fire or any kriya where you build up to a fast pace, like spinal twist or cat-cow.

“Kaval Nain,” the last track on the album, is another favorite, uplifting and restorative.  It is great to chant along with while practicing yoga.  It keeps you going and inspires you.  And it’s also lovely to play at the end of a set during deep relaxation.

Whether you are new to Kundalini Yoga or a practiced master, or you are simply looking for a great, soothing album to listen to after a long day, Adhara is a fantastic addition to any music collection.

Take a listen and let me know what you think!

Sat Nam!

P.S. Adhara is available at Spirit Voyage as well as on iTunes.

“It’s late afternoon…time for a moment to relax. The small table holds a bouquet of spring flowers and jasmine tea is steeping in a pot. The fragrances intermingle and send an unusual message into the air…relax and relish the day!”

So read the message inside the very first Timothy Jay Candle I ever had the pleasure of burning. Its fragrance was called “High Tea.” I loved it so much that it began a love affair with Timothy Jay candles that has lasted for many years.

Timothy Jay Candles is a wonderful boutique here in West Hollywood, opened by my dear friend Tim Sullivan. Not only does he sell his own line of the very best fragrance candles in the world, but his private label clientele reads like a who’s who of Hollywood, New York, and beyond. Diana Ross, Sandra Bullock, Ryan Seacrest, The Beverly Hills Hotel, Saks Fifth Avenue, Tiffany, Ritz Carlton Hotels and many, many more all love and use his candles. Many of them have asked him to design unique boxes and even fragrances for them to give away and/or sell.

Why are Tim’s candles so popular? Simple. They are the best! Tim uses a proprietary blend of waxes along with the very best fragrances that have been painstakingly designed by him. Each candles is poured by hand, cleaned by hand, and carefully packaged by hand by Tim and an expert team of artisans.  Believe it or not, Tim and his team turn out tens of thousands of candles every year.

Timothy Jay has become not only an institution, but a true example of a successful small business that will always give back to the community in which it thrives. Even through the toughest of times, Tim has always been there to give jobs to those who have needed them. Because of his kind spirit, his shop has become a community center of sorts, bringing all kinds of people together – from established celebrities to young people eager to make their mark on the world. People meet there everyday to hang out, to talk, to have a cup of coffee, and to get busy tying ribbons on candle boxes.

Tim recently rolled out the e-commerce section of his website, enabling people from around the world to buy his candles online. Please take a look, and buy a couple of candles for you and your loved ones. They are amazing, and I guarantee you will order again and again.

My personal favorites: Pacific Grapefruit, Wildflowers, Perfect Gardenia, and of course, High Tea.

Meet Tim below and see how his candles are poured!

Last week, my dog Oliver and I were treated to a session with a dog trainer by the name of Julie Strauss. She was amazing! No other word to describe her, really.

Here’s a little background on Oliver the dog. He’s a purebred cocker spaniel I adopted in January. He is the sweetest guy in the world. There are really only three things he wants to do: cuddle, slobber, and play fetch. But in order to let guests and other innocent bystanders know that he wants to do those things, he jumps on them. Incessantly. When it’s just he and I, he’s a dream, but throw someone else into the mix, and Oliver must tell his new buddy how happy he is to make his or her acquaintance.

And so, I finally relented and agreed to have Julie come over to my place to give Oliver a lesson. To be honest I wasn’t really expecting much. I mean, if I as a filmmaker and TV producer couldn’t teach a dog to sit, how was a professional dog trainer going to do any better? Yes, these are, in fact, the thoughts that go through my mind daily. But I digress.

Anyway, Julie walked into my apartment, observed Oliver, and then went to work. She looked down at him as he ran around jumping up and down on her and the furniture, tail flying back and forth like a humming bird wing, and slobber flying everywhere. Finally, she stood upright, held her hand out like a crossing guard and said calmly and firmly, “Oliver.”

He stopped, sat down immediately, and looked at her, like, “Yes, Miss Julie!” It was as if she had an instant psychic connection with him. His eyes did not waver from hers, and he listened to every word she said with the fixed attention of a tween at a Jonas Brothers concert. It was uncanny.

She worked with Oliver and I, and in less than two hours, she had us both trained!  Him not to jump on people, not to jump on the furniture unless invited, and, my personal favorite, to sit and stay in the same position until told to “release.”  And me to be the leader of our pack of two.

Today, he is a different dog. All the same sweetness and enthusiasm without the crazy kamikaze attacks! Thank you, Julie

I’ve become a huge fan of VeggieGrill on Sunset here in LA. It’s become a problem. Kind of like when I first discovered sushi in high school, and I would eat it everyday, sometimes twice a day. I could probably enter a V-Burger eating contest – similar to one of those grotesque hot dog eating contests they have at state fairs and the Los Angeles MTV offices – and bring home the gold.

But I digress.

Anyway, VeggieGril, for those who don’t know, is a restaurant here in LA that serves only vegan food, but much of their vegan food resembles traditional American fare like hamburgers, chicken sandwiches, and carrot cake. Usually, I am not of fan of vegetarian or vegan foods made to look like meat, but in this case, I could be president of their fan club. I mean, their food is SO good. Orgasmically good.

They even offer a nifty service called “Curbside Pickup,” where, you order ahead, and as you are pulling into the parking garage, you call them, and they come down and meet your car in a pre-designated area.

But here’s where the situation got a little sticky last night…

I’d ordered dinner for me and a friend, and at the last minute, my friend asked me to change his side of steamed kale to a side salad. I called them, and as usual, they were very accommodating. By the time I was ready to hang up the phone (I was on a hands-free device, don’t get all freaked out), I was about to pull into the parking garage. “Hey, I’m just pulling into the garage, so just come down when it’s ready.”

“Okay see you in a few,” said the friendly voice on the other end of my bluetooth.

And so I entered the parking garage and started to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, about 15 minutes later, I started to wonder what was going on. I took the elevator up to VeggieGrill, walked in, and sure enough, there was my food waiting for me like a kindergartner waiting for his Mom, who was clearly late to the pick up.

“I’ve been waiting down in the garage since we hung up,” I announced.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry,” said the man at the register. “I missed that you were already here when you called. My bad.”

And here is when VeggieGrill went from super yummy restaurant to epic pinnacle of all things in my world. The man at the register looked at the manager, who came forward and said, “Your meal is on us tonight, and for your trouble, here is a $25 gift card. Thank you for being a loyal customer.”

Amazing. Who does things like that anymore!?

I guess the old adage is still true: The best things come to those who wait.

This morning, two friends forwarded me these two videos that were filmed and edited by young people in our armed forces. I couldn’t help but smile and watch them a few times. Really fun, really creative, and so cool to see young people having a chance to express themselves and to show off their talents. My personal favorite is the “Tik Tok” Air Force video, but the Lady GaGa one is pretty great, too.

A few years back, when I was a budding young film student, technology was not what it is today. In order to edit video on a computer, you needed an AVID, or something similar, which consisted of about the biggest Macintosh tower you could buy along with what amounted to another computer that was just the AVID hardware. The AVID components were additional processors, memory cards, video cards, and a bunch of other things I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Retail on a system like this was, I believe, minimum $60,000. And that didn’t even include the hard drives, video tape machines, sound system, monitors, and on and on.

About two years later, however, things started to change. Computers began to get so powerful that we no longer needed all that expensive hardware to store and edit video. Software-based systems with lots of RAM became accessible to the average individual. The “PRO-sumer” grade video camera was born – which offered rather striking high-quality video at a fraction of the cost of a traditional broadcast television camera.

And then came the very collegiate debate… Available technology would soon give everyone the opportunity to become motion picture and video artists. But should everyone have the opportunity to be an artist? Or would access to affordable, powerful technology overrun us with an endless supply of “bad” or “self-indulgent” video art?

I have always maintained that the advancement of technology is a wonderful thing. And if people are compelled to shoot a video and edit it and display it for all the world to see, then they should go for it! Listen, elitists will always be elitists, and they will have their reasons for excluding people from their little clubs. Hollywood has shown time and again that just because you have access to tons of money and the newest and fanciest tools, doesn’t necessarily mean that you that you have good taste or even the ability to produce something worth watching.

So why not celebrate the fact that the latest technology has given anyone who has a couple of thousand dollars lying around the ability to make something fun and eye catching? I think it’s great, and I also think it’s fabulous that the internet has provided a means for people to distribute their work easily and basically for free.

Keep the creativity coming!

A few weeks ago, my friend Brad invited me to go with him to hear Marianne Williamson speak.

“Really?” I scoffed. “You really go hear her speak?”

“Yeah, she’s great. She speaks every Tuesday. You should come if you’re free,” he said in a tone that was neither defensive nor effusive.

It was the kind of take-it-or-leave-it statement that always piqued my interest. I wondered just who this Marianne Williamson was and how she’d managed to get the attention of Brad, someone I’d never known to be exceptionally new-agey or metaphysically feel-goodey.

Side note: Los Angeles is at its core a small town, so when one generates any amount of controversy, as Marianne had in the past, people hear about it. Before I really knew anything about her, I’d decided that she was the kind of self-help guru who sold a very commercial message of canned hope and faith to masses of desperate people, in the midst of mid-life crises, clamoring to find some kind of meaning in their lives. In other words, I had a little contempt prior to investigation.

But I digress.

Anyway, I met Brad at Marianne’s lecture the following week. The theater was packed. About 900 people quietly waited for Marianne to take the stage. When she ascended the stairs and stepped into the spotlight, she looked exactly how I thought she would. Very attractive, fit and camera-ready, with $700 hair, wearing what looked to be a $2500 suit, complete with Christian Louboutin heels. Okay, I admit the shoes surprised me. I suddenly thought she was fabulous. But again, I digress.

Once onstage, she sweetly asked if the lighting was OK and if she looked all right. The audience reassured her. She graciously blushed a little bit. “This woman is good!” I mused. Then, we prayed together. And then she started to speak.

Immediately, she caught me off guard. This was not a lecture for the faint of heart, nor was it a lecture for those who were waiting to be spoon fed something mindless and easy to digest. This was a call to action. This was a careful, oftentimes what I would call PhD level, analysis of metaphysics in everyday life, with occasional references to leitmotifs in fairytales so that her points could be more clearly understood. She even discussed Albert Einstein. I was totally blown away.

Then came the questions and answers. Some people asked about what she’d spoken about. Some people asked about very specific issues in their lives. She received each question with kindness and grace and provided a direct, clear and personalized answer, while at the same time relating the issue back to a larger theme. What struck me, though, was that she was not about to co-sign anyone’s BS. In fact, she actually said to one woman, “You are 33 years old. It’s time to stop behaving like a Ditzy Dora and start living as an adult.” Oh, yes she did.

At the heart of her lecture was a simple truth. We are currently living in fear. And fear cannot be wished away. The only way to get rid of fear is to replace it with love. Love for ourselves, love for others, and love for the world around us.

It was then that I remembered something my high school English teacher had said when asked about the rumors that a man named Shakespeare didn’t actually write all those plays. Were they written by a group of people? Was Shakespeare a pen name for a man called Francis Bacon?

My high school English teacher’s response was simply, “It doesn’t matter who wrote these plays. The fact is that they exist, that they are wonderful, and that their impact and influence continue to be felt centuries after they were first published. Whether or not a man named Shakespeare wrote them is immaterial… At least to me.”

And then I thought about Marianne. I related to her message. Thousands and thousands of people around the world related to her message every day.

So, at the end of the day, does it matter who Marianne the person truly is? I think what matters is that her message is clear, positive, full of hope, meaningful, impactful, and potentially life-changing for all those who care to listen.

Sometimes, when we get so busy scrutinizing the fallibility and very humanity of a specific messenger, we often miss the message.

Today, I went to meet my friend Joe for a late lunch at Joey’s in West Hollywood.  As we were leaving, I saw that I’d received a notice like this one under my windshield wiper. Clearly, someone wanted me to know that I had parked… like an asshole.

I had to smile because, as you can see, much to my great amusement and delight, there is actually an entire website devoted solely to asshole parkers appropriately entitled, youparklikeanasshole.com.

In the past I have been known to entertain an impure thought or two about people who park like assholes here in Los Angeles, and I usually am as considerate as possible when parking my car. Today, however, I guess I got a little reckless, and that was my bad.

And though I wish I could claim all the credit for my admittedly asshole parking, in the interest of fairness, I should give credit where credit is due. When I pulled into the parking lot of Joey’s, the entire lot was pretty much full, and I was running a few minutes late to meet Joe. Luckily, there was a woman leaving, who was occupying a space that was in reality two spaces. You see, there was a large BMW parked over the line on the right side, and a Toyota Forerunner parked over the line on the left side. Joey’s lot is really only designed for smaller cars, so sometimes these things happen.

Anyway, I had a choice: I could park in the two-space space, or I could circle the block for street parking. I chose the former. I even had a pang of guilt about it, but I didn’t want to keep Joe waiting. Then, of course, I got busted by the asshole parking enforcement team of West Hollywood, but I guess that’s the risk you take when you live on the parking edge.

Thanks for keeping our parking spaces safe, guys!

I was digging through a box of keepsakes the other night, when I came across this old, signed photo of Paula Abdul, and memories of being an 11-year-old über-fan came flooding back to me. The Sharpie is a little difficult to read, but she wrote: “To Peter, Lots and lots of love & happiness to you! Keep Dancing! Paula Abdul”

Here’s the back story… Years ago, when I was really just a gay-in-training, I developed a healthy fascination with Paula Abdul. This was during the Forever Your Girl era. I loved her. I thought she’d hung the moon. My Mom even got me a VHS compilation of her videos, and I resigned myself to learning all of Paula’s dance steps by slowly tracking through the videos frame by frame. Please don’t tell anyone, though. I don’t want to get a reputation.

But back then, I was so brought down that this particular compilation did not contain the “Opposites Attract” video…

You see, at the time, my parents didn’t have cable, so I could only see the video in glimpses at friends’ houses where there was MTV. And I thought the “Opposites Attract” video was only the coolest thing… EVER!

I begged and begged my parents to get us MTV, which of course they would hear no part of. Finally, my Dad set out on a mission to get me a copy of the video. Well, it was more of an “I’m going to write a letter to Paula” moment, as opposed to a mission, but I digress.

Anyway, unbeknownst to me, he sent a letter off to Paula and then, as one does, subsequently developed a friendship with key members of “Team Abdul.” One day, he came home from the office carrying a large, padded envelope, which he handed to me.

“I think this is for you,” he said.

So, I opened up the package to find a copy of the “Opposites Attract” video, along with the above autographed picture from Paula. I almost fainted. Then, I read what Paula had written on the picture.

“Keep dancing?” I asked. “Why did she write ‘Keep dancing’!?”

“Well, I may have told her manager that you inch through her videos frame by frame…”

“WHAT!? You told her manager that!? Now Paula’s gonna think I’m weird! Oh my God!”

He started laughing. “Will you just put the tape in the VCR so we can see what all the fuss is about?”

And yes, after a couple of years, I’d worn that tape out, too.

I just got home from my dear friend Lesley’s birthday party at Formosa Cafe in West Hollywood. Some of the funniest conversations I have ever overheard have been in bars, and tonight certainly did not disappoint. As I was waiting at the bar for drinks, I was privy to this conversation between two fellow partygoers who seemed rather taken with each other:

Guy: You know, you’re really cute in an exotic sort of way.
Girl: Yeah, I’m a Persian girl from Newport Beach.
Guy: That’s cool! You could be on Jersey Shore!

And with that, my drinks arrived and I headed back over to my friends. I can only imagine where the evening took these two crazy young things…