Friday, September 15
Happy Friday. It’s finally the weekend. Low key didn’t think I was going to make it all the way through, but I did. After work, I snuck into Core Power Yoga in Studio City once again. Sculpt is literally the cure to life. I haven’t been able to work out in almost over a month. This was beyond necessary. Endorphins for life.
This art journey has been a great one every step! Set your calendar for September 15th. I'm gonna make it reign purple in LA. Revealing my purple collection. Ladies and gents come join me in this classy experience!RSVP now! Link in bio • • • • #Maxwelldickson #purpletie #purpleseries #bartcooper #socialmixla #mikesaraypr #strokeawarenessmonth
Had to set that up to explain why I was so tore up at this event tonight lmao. I literally pull up and thought to myself: SHIT. Lmao. This spot was NICE. Hotel Indigo in downtown LA, right by Staples Center and L.A. Live. Tonight was the homie’s art show at 18 Social, which I had no idea was a club/lounge. This was 18 stories up in beautiful DTLA. Literally, such a vibe.
Introducing Maxwell Dickson’s Purple Tie | Stroke Awareness Art Exhibition. Art for a good cause? It doesn’t get any better than that. What tripped me out most was that Maxwell was actually Bart’s brand. When he hit me about this, I legit thought he was just promoting and supporting a friend’s art event. It turns out, all the fucking dope artwork was all him. This was his brand. Man. People are so talented.
Shout out to the homeboy Corey always fucking down for the cause. Even entering the hotel on the main level was lit. Like, this was goals. The lobby proved to be the most elegant, sophisticated, bougie spot to hang out. Basically, I felt important for a second. We take the elevator up to the 18th floor to find a straight up function. Life-size portraits of Basquiat and Andy Warhol, two of the most well-respected artists in the game, greeted you as you walked into the main room.
— HipHopDX (@HipHopDX) September 16, 2017
When I say it was a vibe, it was a mf vibe. There was a bar, DJ, and honestly, an amazing turnout. Most were posted on the couches in deep conversation. It was an older crowd, which made me feel mature lmao. Everyone looked important. We had the best time going through each piece of art. I thoroughly enjoyed making sure the name tag matched who I thought was in the portrait. I asked someone if this was Beyonce, and she goes, “it’s Tyra Banks.” Bih. It’s Beyonce lmao.
I run into Bart early on and was so, so happy for him. I had to ask what he used to paint all this, and I think he said it was a mixture of acrylics and oil paint. Whatever it is, it’s lit. This was his night. There was even the dopest red carpet and backdrop for him. This Purple Carpet Art Show Fundraiser in support of stroke awareness was the perfect way to kick off Emmy weekend in LA.
The event was hosted by The Sachika Twins, world renown celebrity fashion designers, with live performances by Niki Black and Uri Grey. I stayed long enough to hear the rep from Providence Holy Cross Stroke Program speak. This actually struck a nerve with me. She said stroke is the fifth leading cause of death in the world. That’s insane. As much as this was a celebration, it was also to support a nonprofit called Providence Holy Cross Foundation. The table at the front had prints you could purchase for $25 that went to the foundation.
The prints for purchase were all mini-versions of the bigger pieces spread throughout the rooms. I was OBSESSED with this Tupac/Biggie shot. Saw someone purchase one for $25 and had to validate her. If I had the cash flow, totally would have done it also. This was only a sneak peak of all the dope icons that hung on the walls tonight. Obama, Muhammad Ali (the GOAT), Floyd Mayweather (the wannabe GOAT), Bruce Lee, Janelle Monae, Bowie… and that’s still just a preview.
— Shirley Ju (@shirju) September 16, 2017
Straight up- the controversy of the evening. I’m like 80% sure this was Denzel who got dropped off in front of the hotel. Fucking Corey is raining on my parade saying it wasn’t. But the chick at the valet validated me. It was him. Him and all his glory.