Banana tree in snow. Our neighbors have a banana tree. Which is pretty ambitious here above the 45th parallel. Every winter it disappears, and every summer it pops back up over the top of the fence. Here it is receiving the shock of its life.
Swirly snow. A study in movement.
Hummingbird in snow. I hope it survives the upcoming week of below-freezing temps.
moss
Walking in Washington Park today, my zoomy eye spied these secret and magical worlds.
Okay, so my new camera has a macro function. Now that I’m losing the closeup range of my eyesight (just old age, nothing serious), this camera will have to fill in for me!
pine
Time’s slipped by fast, but I wanted to get a word in about our party last Saturday. Before it becomes embarrassingly late to do so. Like it was embarrassingly late for us to hold a housewarming party months after we moved into the Ford building, so it became a first anniversary party instead. Jimmy Thomas and I were super lucky to get into this building before it filled up. Whether we can stay as rents rise remains to be seen, but for now it’s a great place to be. The party was fabulous. You could hear the noise all the way down the hall (which runs a city block long). There were supposed to be photos but someone (not mentioning any names, but I’m married to him) got so absorbed in talking to people that he forgot to take any! Maybe there will be some from the second anniversary party.
David Kennedy - architect
A new website for architect David Kennedy was launched today. David’s main creative focus is in hospitality, but in his 20+ of practice he’s also done residential, commercial, and institutional work.
Leaving the 4D Brane, 2007; 12” x 36”; ink, acrylic, paintpen, inkjet collage on paper, mounted on wood
Three of my paintings are in the current group show at Mark Woolley gallery called Small Wonders. Preview last night, public opening tonight. The show is up through November 29th.
Oregon voter ballot
This post is more for the benefit of my international readers 
(I.e. rellies in New Zealand.)
Now that Tom and I are citizens of the USA (and yes, we still have our New Zealand citizenship - to answer the question that always comes up) we get to vote in this historic election. All national elections here get called historic (how, after all, could the mainstream media sell advertising during a run-of-the-mill presidential race?) but this one truly is historic. For reasons we all know about and which I need not repeat here.
Each state of this union does the voting thing their own way. Oregon has Vote by Mail. The benefit to Vote by Mail is no one has to take time off work nor stand in line to vote. It’s good, too, for the disabled. The ballot comes to your house, you fill it out, and you send it in or drop it off. Another benefit is a paper trail! No creepy, hackable electronic voting machines here thank you very much. The downside to Vote by Mail is the loss of that feeling of civic camaraderie that apparently happens when strangers stand in line together to vote. I haven’t experienced it, but Oregonians who remember a time before Vote by Mail say they miss the old way. Vote by Mail does statistically raise voter participation, though, and I’m all for that.
My international readers may be under the impression the ballot comes with two choices: McCain and Obama. Pick one and you’re done. What doesn’t make it into overseas news is that all over the country Americans are voting for thousands and thousands of other positions besides the president. Senators, congresspeople, mayors, local senators and representatives (each state has its own government - it’s not just the feds running everything from D.C.), plus city councillors, school board members, judges, and so on. And in a state like Oregon that has citizen initiated referenda (aka citizen initiatives), there are ballot measure, too.
Lucky for me Oregonians take their politics seriously, and there’s plenty of reading material prepared and distributed (er, rather a lot, actually) to help me decide. (I do like the Willamette Week’s riff on Shepard Fairey’s Obama HOPE design.)
Okay, I’m going to go vote now. Once I have read all the endorsements and ballot measure explanations that have piled up on the dining table.
Kristy Edmunds, from 12 Words One Should Never Step On
Going back to the part in the previous post about Leslie Durst commissioning 10 artists over the last decade to make 12 works each, which then get gifted — Well it turns out I am one of the recipients of this year’s gifts! I was supposed to find out at the party, but apparently in failing to see the whole exhibition (at one point Leslie came round and stressed we should see the whole thing) I missed the part revealing this year’s recipients.
A year or so ago Blue Mouse Monkey launched a web project for collector and philanthropist Leslie Durst. During the meetings we got to see (and sometimes touch) some of the many 17th - 19th C needlework samplers in her huge collection. Elaborate and precise, beautiful, innocent, celebratory, and sometimes downright scary in their choice of bible verses, these pieces were made almost exclusively by young girls. I’d never given antique needlework a second thought till I got to work with it up close. But the cool thing about it is that they are artistic historical artifacts from a demographic that is almost entirely absent from art history, or any history at all. These girls (many as young as six), lived in a world where children didn’t have voices or choices. Born into classes other than the aristocracy (and some were even in orphanages), these girls grew up, lived out their lives in towns and villages, then passed on. Their childhood needlework survived them, and is now being collected, researched, and shared by Leslie. The project now engages over a thousand members of the global needlework community.
Allium Subcaeruleus, by Jorg Jacoby
All that is a lead-up to talking about Leslie’s 60th birthday party last night, and wow, what a party! It was held at Leftbank. We began with a champagne and hors d’oeuvres reception for the exhibit The Butterfly Effect: A Visionary Gesture by Leslie B. Durst. Over the last ten years Leslie has secretly commissioned ten artists to make twelve works each - which leslie then gave as gifts to others. Wow!
Then we were seated upstairs at large tables with opportunities to meet new people and eat course after delicious course of dinner. Before dessert, a Brazilian-style street band and four dancers made a dramatic entrance into the hall, and drummed and danced so crazy loud it was hard to stay seated. Then the band led us all down and out into the street. We followed them into another space at Leftbank, this one empty but for childhood photos of Leslie projected on one wall, and tables piled high with cupcakes. And I mean high. Mountains of cupcakes on tiered platters. Plus more champagne.
After the band left my ears were ringing, but in a good way. There were speeches from her brother, PICA people, her needlework friends, and others. And Leslie spoke of her mentoring work with Vancouver kids. A video about the artists she’d commissioned played. There were toasts. Cupcakes were consumed. Needlework friends produced their surprise gifts of a set of samplers they’d sewn, in antique styles, for Leslie, and hung them one by one on the wall. And all of us who know Leslie from one facet of her life or another got to see her extended community and what great things she has done in the world. Wow!
From Under Polaris, by Cloud Eye Control
Then we went back to the dining space, which had been transformed into a theater, for the debut of the multimedia performance Under Polaris by Cloud Eye Control, - commissioned by Leslie. Wow! Then we said goodbye to Leslie, and on our way out were given a DVD catalogue of the Butterfly Effect exhibition.
A memorable evening to celebrate an extraordinary life. Leslie Durst, I’m proud to know you.