The “Armenian Bjork” & writing songs on the john
Poet, musician, artist, Karin Tatoyan sings about her emotions by Paul Chaderjian HOLLYWIERD, Calif. - And a gray-haired Black man walking through the patio of the Coffee Bean with a ghetto blaster on his right shoulder grabs our attention. We all turn to look at the commotion. His stereo is blaring an 80s pop tune from Madonna. The music is so loud, you can't hear yourself think. For a second, on this fifth day of 2007, we all flash back to 1983. “Holiday. Celebrate,” echoes from the cafe; at the corner of Sunset and Vine. “If we took a holiday, took some time to celebrate. Just one day out of life. It would be, it would be so nice.” Karin laughs. It's a sweet laugh. Wise laugh. An insightful one. “How did you find out about me,” she asks me, the interviewee interviewing the interviewer. Oh, excuse me, dear Reporter readers. Let me introduce you to Karin Tatoyan. Singer. Poetess. Musician. Performer. Artist. Armenian. That's why you're reading thi...