Monday, May 31, 2010

More Spontaneous Dancing--Plus a Flashback!

What is it with Portland and spontaneous dancing? Especially dancing spontaneously with a fully loaded backpack. It happens all the time.* That's good, though. That's the way we do it in Portland, Oregon.

I loved listening to this all-female drum group led by a women in her 60s who made good use of her green gym teacher's whistle.

Flashback to 5th grade and me sitting at the kitchen table with a slip of paper from school asking me if I wanted to sign up to play a musical instrument and, if so, which one? Well, my dad was the high school band director so it was a foregone conclusion that I'd be answering the first question with a "yes," but how to answer the second question was up to me. I couldn't decide between the flute and percussion, but finally I wrote in "Percussion." Then, I'm not sure what happened but at some point later that evening I erased "Percussion" and wrote in "Flute."

I have often regretted that.

*I hope you clicked on the link and watched the video. It makes me happy every time I watch it.

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Sunday, May 23, 2010


Threatening Skies

This is what it looked like when I took a walk at lunchtime in Icky Suburb on Tuesday.

Day 269/365: Avast-mobile

This is what it looked like when I took a walk after dinner in Portland on Tuesday. The weather had improved a bit, and the freakiness factor had increased significantly.

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Friday, May 07, 2010

Yellow Lemon, Brown Lemon

Gravel Art My Dad Made 40-some Years Ago

I found this amazing piece of gravel art in a shop that specializes in mid-century "antiques" while I was in Chicago last week attending a conference. You see, I'd seen it before. I grew up with the thing. It was in our living room, paired with a similar piece that featured, if memory serves, a pineapple and/or maybe a banana.

My dad actually made this classic example of gravel art when he was trying to quit smoking 40 or more years ago and needed something to distract himself from his nicotine fits. (Note the weird brown lemon. Huh?) Anyway, I always loved the gravel art and was bummed out when I found out that my dad had sold the pieces at a neighborhood garage sale some number of years ago--without asking the permission of his children! But it's back in the family now--I bought it, of course, even though I'm sure I paid a price several thousand times higher than what my dad originally sold it for at the garage sale. Go figure!

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