|Photo by Ryan Orange|
|Marion Lane's studio was a blur of activity this summer.|
The year before, one of her friends had gotten too drunk.
She remembers that now, standing at the same corner of La Brea Avenue and Second Street at pretty much the same time, doing pretty much the same thing: leaving her gallery, Launch, after her opening and walking to dinner at Cafe Verona.
She'd been too spaced out from the madness of the night, the packed gallery, the daze of having finished the show, the surrealness of being surrounded by people after months working in solitude. So she hadn't really processed it when she'd caught sight of her friend ahead of her, lurching her way unsteadily down the stairs that lead from the gallery. But standing at the corner, at a red light, she'd realized what she'd witnessed — said it out loud to the two men next to her, "She can't drive! We have to stop her."More »