Auntie Bridgett and I took the bus down to the Portland Art Museum on Friday for the opening of a show called “Monet to Matisse: French Moderns”. These paintings and sculptures had been borrowed from the collections of the Brooklyn Art Museum in New York.
We were greeted by this wonderful study for Rodin’s Bronze Man.
There were three big galleries of paintings by Monet, Marc Chagall, Berthe Marisot, Edgar Degas, and many others.
These are all impressionists, a style I love, and I was in heaven just walking and staring.
But my favorite painting today was this tiny Marc Chagall, featuring his violin player. The bright colors and careless brush strokes reminded me of paintings by Jerry Garcia, of the Grateful Dead. It just really made me smile.
Last Saturday was Portland’s Rose Parade, and we took the number 75 to the Red line train to get there. It was a delightful, sunny, breezy day, and thousands of folks had lined up before we got there!
Fortunately, we found a spot by the rose hedge along MLK Blvd. that was just right. Bees buzzed and flowers bloomed just for us.
The Parade had all the things a parade should have. High school bands with great cadences,
Silly floats,
marching groups from Portland and around the world,
Therapy llamas,
and kids to share it all with.
There was also political drama, as we should have been able to predict. A group of protestors were demonstrating against the U.S. involvement in the Israeli-Gaza conflict and moved into the path of the parade.
Some of them laid down in the street snd blocked the road, so the marching groups just bunched up and went around them.
I couldn’t get very close, but here you can see, from left to right, the flags of the Peace Corps group as it marched by, the police line, and the Palestinian flags carried by the protestors.
The irony was a little heavy handed, but so it goes.
Everyone behaved themselves as well as could be expected, and the parade continued with the Police maintaining their line. It all made for a busy, entertaining, perfectly Portland Saturday morning.
And when it went from “Lots of Fun” to “Way Too Much Noise”, we caught the Red Line back to the Hollywood neighborhood and walked up to Fleur de Lis bakery for quiche and coffee and some quiet jazz by these two lovely people.
When our tummies were full and our souls at peace, we bussed back home for a well-deserved lay down.
The new cookie place has opened!! Nate’s Oatmeal Cookies, run by a fine fellow named Nate, of course, (I haven’t found out his last name yet) has opened just down the block on Belmont, and they are wonderful.
Six different kinds of cookies, three of which are vegan and gluten-free, are on offer for $4.00 each, or $20.00 per half dozen. This is not cheap, surely, because Nate uses quality ingredients. Nate even lists the ingredients in his website so you know what you are getting.
As a way of making an objective taste test, we bought one of each. Auntie Bridgett was very happy with the gluten-free Trailblazers, with their cake-like texture and crunchy nuts and chewy raisins. The Snickerdoodles were also delicious, though a bit dense for a snickerdoodle, because of the oatmeal.
The only drawback is that the gluten-free cookies use Vegan butter, which is made with coconut milk, and Auntie Bridgett is allergic to anything coconut. Being a cookie-loving woman, this makes her very sad.
But, thinking positively, I get the rest of the cookies!
I especially loved the Cherry Almond, which have a unique chewy, almond-y goodness.
Everyone should stop by and find their favorite at Nate’s Oatmeal Cookies! Smiling Channing will be happy to sell you some.
We have another new shop in the neighborhood! This one is called Happy Anyway, on SE Belmont, and is run by Stephanie Sheldon. We know Stephanie because she and her friend Jen used to run Noun, just a few blocks away.
Here is Stephanie and the interior of her shop, as photographed by Maggie Kirkland of Honeysuckle Photography.
Noun had been one of Auntie Bridgett’s favorite places EVER, so we had to go see the new place!
And we were not disappointed. Happy Anyway is lovely, peaceful, and, to use Auntie Bridgett’s word, “curated”. Every item is displayed with the care of a museum piece.
Whether it is a vintage plastic teddy bear or a dandelion encased in lucite, each piece feels magical.
Along with the items, we enjoyed some lovely conversation with Stephanie and Jen.
Once I felt comfortable, I asked if we could have a look at the antique crazy Quilt. Isn’t it wonderful? I hope mine ages as well.
When you come visit, I will take you to see Happy Anyway for a delightful visit.
It turns out that the ‘training’ of exercising and eating better to get me ready for SOAK has paid off in other ways, as well. I had two long, lovely walks Friday, with two of my favorite people.
First, Cynthia and I walked around the International Test Garden in Washington Park. It was a bright sunny day, and a lot of roses have started opening up! I didn’t check any of their names, just their scents. This one was the best!
Then we walked down the road a bit to the Holocaust Memorial. This is a solemn reminder of the horrors that the Nazis visited upon 6 million Jews and other people back in the 1940s.
As we looked at the names and read the history, both of us wondered: How could Israel, a country founded after these atrocities, commit those happening now in Gaza? The dark side of human nature left us sadly pondering.
After a few hours of walking and conversation, Cynthia dropped me off at home. Lunch and a rest got me ready for the next outing. Auntie Bridgett was having technical difficulties and needed a walk, so I went.
We ended up at Lone Fir, where we actually FOUND Eloisa McLaughlin Rae Harvey’s grave! She is named on this tall, mossy obelisk, along with her second husband Daniel Harvey and her son, Daniel Harvey Jr.
Eloisa was a woman who led a remarkable life as daughter of Dr. John McLaughlin, “The Father of Oregon”, and wife to two employees of the Hudson’s Bay Company. She traveled to Oregon, Alaska, San Francisco and Hawaii in a day when most women rarely left their hometown.
It’s a quiet miracle how dead people, whether in throngs of 6 million or one by one, give us perspective and allow us to mark their passing.
There is a scene in an old movie where an ordinary guy (played by John Denver) is visited by God, (played by George Burns) and is totally overwhelmed. “What do I do?” The fellow asks. “Trying shaving,” God says. “When you don’t feel normal, do something normal. It helps.”
So, feeling slightly overwhelmed after my big adventure of SOAK, I came home and … made pizza.
Auntie Bridgett bought some cauliflower-based gluten free pizza crusts at Trader Joe’s and we’ve been trying them out. Also, I had seen beautiful pizzas on the internet, where toppings looked like flowers.
We each have particular tastes in pizzas, so these were accommodated. An olive oil base, thinly sliced onions, jarred chopped garlic, mozzarella and goat cheese made for a mighty tasty pizza. My half got a sprinkling of pancetta.
Ten minutes in the 425 degree oven, and voila! Tasty, pungent, homemade, gluten free pizza. SO GOOD!
The SOAK adventure was great, but it’s nice to cook in my own kitchen again.
Well, after the Major Structure Burn, my phone ran out of juice. I tried to get it charged at several places, but the chargers were either not effective or busy, and there was too much other fun stuff to do.
I apologize for not having any pictures for Sunday or the Temple Burn, which was lovely, quiet, and contemplative.
As my new friend Aryn said, it’s like the difference between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Celebration as opposed to Reflection. The Temple, as you can see in the only picture I have of it, was a delicate wooden structure. Folks used markers to write wishes, or regrets, or remembrances of loved ones, which will all go up in smoke and be released Sunday night.
But this brings me to the last Principle… Leave no trace. How were 3,000 people with all their camping baggage, and two major fires, not going to leave a whopping big trace?
As to the people and their stuff, there is a special Burner word. MOOP. It stands for Material Out of Place and means anything that doesn’t belong in the environment. Bits of paper, plastic, glass, sequins (a real concern here), and even soapy water.
These are managed in different ways. The soapy water (or any water that isn’t drunk) goes into large ‘grey water’ tanks that are hauled out at the end of the festival. Porta Potties, of course, hold all our poop and such, and are cleaned during the festival and hauled out at the end.
MOOP crews of campers clean up their own camps, going inch by inch ( I was down with my nose to the ground, since my eyes aren’t fabulous) to check for anything that doesn’t belong. As well as our own Kind Bar wrappers, we found bottle caps that were old and rusty, which means they had been there for quite a while. It felt good to make the site better than when we found it! All the MOOP was taken away, to be recycled or thrown away in our home trash cans.
And, when everyone has gone, there will be another crew of MOOP specialists who come sweep for whatever we missed.
Then there is the Burns. Two structures, put together with hundreds of screws, and burning to the ground. How do we mend those scars in the field?
Cousin Jasper explained it to me. After the Burns are out and cold, crews go over the areas with strong magnets that look like those metal detectors that treasure hunters use. These lift the screws out of the ashes! The area is raked and searched several times to get all the metal out.
Then the ground is soaked and native grass seed spread on, to make sure the area grows back the way it was.
I love so many things about SOAK and the Ten Principles. Responsibility, environmentalism, and the ability to be your best, most creative self. Of course no event is perfect, but the SOAK crew is always trying to make it better.
One of the drawbacks for me personally is that sometimes, other people being their best selves is noisy, and I like quiet. But, like in every human activity, compromise and cooperation step in and help.
I don’t know if I will have another SOAK, but I’m sure glad I did this one!
Saturday is a big day at SOAK, the day of the Major Structure burn. I have showed you this structure, that thing that looks like a wooden light house. There are stairs inside, and I actually went up!
The views were wide and high, but the gusting winds encouraged me to head on down.
By the evening, I had figured out that a million pictures weren’t going to capture my experience of SOAK, and I took fewer and fewer. But that evening, with everyone in costume and sitting in The High Meadow waiting for the Burn, I asked Jasper, Kestrel, and their Troupe to sit for a portrait.
Some pictures are worth posing for!
The Burn was delayed several times, as the wind kept gusting, creating a danger of the fire spreading. Firefighters soaked the ground between the structure and the fire line, and people were stationed on the hill to look for sparks.
I was waved down to a seat in the front by a ranger named Leeway, who (like lots of other folks here) is a friend of Katie’s. The fire dancers came out and put on a thrilling, if slightly scary, show.
And then, at 11:28 p.m., the thermite was set off and the Burn began.
You could tell which job people had by which way they were looking. The firefighters never took their eyes off the tower, to make sure the fire didn’t get loose into the area. The Rangers never took their eyes off the crowd, to make sure no one acted in ways that were unsafe around fire.
The tower burned for about a half hour, letting the chilly crowd get warm. We were all warming ourselves in the same fire, becoming, in a way, members of the same tribe.
This felt like all of the Principles coming into play at the same time.
*Radical Self-Reliance, because everything had been brought up by the burners.
*Gifting and Communal Effort from the folks who built and monitored the fire for the rest of us.
*Immediacy, in our total absorption in the moments of the Burn.
*Decommodification, because it was offered to all of us for free. Also, no one was advertising anything with it.
*Consent, because there were those who chose not to be at the Burn, and everyone was free to experience it at their own comfort level.
*Radical Inclusion and Participation, because there was plenty of room for the almost 3,000 people to see. Also, all of our presence made up the experience.
*Radical Self-Expression, in the creation and then destruction of one’s creation.
*Civic Responsibility, in the action as of fire fighters, Rangers, and the whole crowd, keeping everyone safe. Also, the correct local fire permits and such were given, so the Burn is also good citizens to the “outside”.
I will tell you about the last Principle tomorrow, as we move toward out last day at SOAK 2024.
Friday morning at SOAK 2024 dawned warmer and I went for a walkabout with some of my campmates at Limbo Lounge. Following the Principle of Consent, I won’t include their photos here because I forgot to ask permission.
As I walked around, I was surprised by how few cameras I saw. With all this incredible eye candy about, why was no one taking pictures?
I asked a lady who was setting up her camp about this. She explained The Principle of Immediacy, of being in the moment. When you are chatting or cooking or enjoying, putting a camera between you and your subject can spoil that special moment. This made sense to me, and I stopped taking so many pictures, just enough to help my slippery memory be able to relive these days and the magic of stretching out in a sunny hammock.
On one of my walkabouts, I met a fellow named CJ. He asked me if I was sleeping well in all this lovely mountain air, and I confessed that I hadn’t been able to get warm enough to sleep very comfortably. He smiled, walked to his tent, and came back with a fluffy leopard print onesie, like giant baby pajamas with a hood. He put it into my hands.
“How can I thank you?” I smiled, overwhelmed at this gift. “You just did,” he said. “I brought it to give it away, and now it’s yours.” The Principle of Gifting had come home to roost. Part of the charm of this place is intentionally bringing or making things to give away. Not to sell or trade, but simply to gift for the joy of giving.
I regret, just a little, that I didn’t take CJ’s picture. But it would have gotten in the way.
Embracing my new pajamas as well as a new understanding, I walked back to camp and made a few circuits of neighborhood, handing out the four dozen chocolate chip cookies I had made, to bring, to give away.
Katie, Douglas, and I walked out to the Gate with Kestrel for her Gayte shift (everyone has a job to contribute to the festival, according to the Principle of Civic Responsibility).
After some confusion, we had snacks with some lovely people at camp Misbehavin’ and headed back to our camp. We met a dear friend of Katie’s, who knows Kestrel is a textile artist and had brought a new weaving craft to teach her. The two of them hunkered down and had a craft festival of their own, right there by the Cosmic Messenger’s feet.
We got back to camp worn out and happy, and I spent quite a long time just laying in my borrowed tent, listening to the sounds of the camp and appreciating where I was.
Later that evening, Kestrel and I got to make the long walk around the camp in our fancy jellyfish hats! The dark, and the uneven ground, made walking a challenge. But so much fun! Folks would holler “I love your hat!” from their camp chairs, and we even ran into a swarm of about 20 others people in umbrella -type jellyfish costumes, and danced along with them for a while.
I felt like we were really part of the festival, not just visitors. After midnight, we made our way back to the tents. I fell asleep, Kestrel took off to find her Troupe.
