Blog Jammer

A Visit to Cal Earth

2011-03-24T10:39:00.000-07:00

A while back Ted and I took a trip to Cal Earth where we listened to an inspiring lecture on Earth and Ceramic Architecture. . .

. . . along with an eclectic collection of individuals from around the globe.

Then we partook in the best pot luck feast I've ever participated in.

Next time we attend I will fast for days to make space in my stomach for the occasion.

We were then free to explore the campus

All of the structures were made by students

"Earth turns to gold in the hands of the wise" - Rumi

And then there was this one time . . .

2010-10-21T13:05:00.000-07:00

we stopped by Niki De Saint Phalle's Magic Circle of Queen Califia

Did you know that California was named after an island populated by black women (no men), ruled by Queen Califia, in a Spanish romance novel?

It was news to us, but it's totally true.

Ted and I enjoyed acting like children. . .

experimenting with mirrors. . .

and exploring the work.

The Clothers (minus one Fin)

2010-10-12T12:07:00.000-07:00

A little while ago we met up with our dear friends, the Clothers, in Santa Barbara. They were visiting from Portland, for the opening of Chris' show at Westmont.

(The lady in yellow is a close friend of the Clothers, and the curator of this show.)

(A piece of work)

(The man, the myth, the legend)

After seeing Chris' work through plexiglass lenses, we ventured (the long way - getting very, very lost) to get our first taste of Chumash cave paintings.

Then we all went to the Ellwood Butterfly Preserve. . .

and to the nearby coast, for a special ceremony for Sir Simon. . .

and then Chris and Ted learned how to fly.

Wednesday at the Painted Rock

2010-10-08T09:53:00.000-07:00

Our plans to hike Sequoia being foiled by the snow, we decided instead to go see Painted Rock

After driving to the middle of nowhere,

we walked along a muddy path for miles,

but it was totally worth it.

The rock itself was really beautiful,

and so were the paintings.

Ted and I spent some time talking about graffiti, and the human compulsion to make a mark,

and then we tried to make friends with an owl.

We walked back to the car,

and took a lot of the muddy path with us.

san francisco, two eri(k/c)s, a wind harp and free speech

2010-10-02T10:04:00.000-07:00

A couple weekends ago we took a quick trip up to San Francisco to catch our friend, Erik, in town from Chicago.

The three of us experienced the sights, sounds and good vibes of the wind harp.

(the harp was very secure)

Per Stacy's recommendation, we feasted at Gracias Madre for dinner.

It was mindblowingly delicious.

Eric generously welcomed us to stay in his home.

And, as if giving us a place to stay wasn't enough, Eric made us hearty bowls of lentil soup.

On the final day of our quick trip, we ventured over to the Prelinger Library - "an appropriation-friendly, browsable collection of approximately 40,000 books, periodicals, printed ephemera and government documents"

A brief but fun filled weekend.

{the end}

Epic Weekends and Grandiose Hyperboles

2010-09-29T16:16:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago marked the end of my "real job", and a return to an old one. To celebrate the transition, Ted and I took a trip up to Mono Lake.

Along the way, we stopped at the Cottonwood Kilns

The acoustics inside were amazing, so the two of us stomped around and made music.

And then, we headed up to Manzanar . . .

Thanks to my Uncle Kuni, I've been reading up quite a bit on the internment camps. The experience of being at one of them took my words away. I still have difficulty accepting that it really happened. Japanese Americans, regardless of age, health, citizenship or character were packed up and shipped off to the desert. Not knowing what to prepare themselves for, they had to survive the harsh elements with shoddy buildings to shelter in. Stripped of their privacy and dignity, they managed to survive and make the most of their situation.

In addition to cultivating gardens for food and trees for shade, they created gardens to walk and sit in like this one. You can see the cement laid for streams and a pool.

(Ted managed to find a gap to jump)

My grandparents, both American citizens, met and married at the internment camp in Poston. When I've asked my grandpa about camp, all he would ever tell me was stories about the things he made out of trash and how good he was at martial arts. When I asked him if it made him angry to have been forced to move to camp, he answered "If it wasn't for camp, none of you (me and the rest of our family) would be here."

From Manzanar, we drove to Bodie. . . "A town from the 1800s that stands today in a state of arrested decay"

At one point, Bodie was larger than Los Angeles

"Goodbye God, I'm going to Bodie"

(sunbathing)

And then, finally, we made our way to Mono Lake. . .

Our plans to paddle out to the island in the middle of Mono Lake, and camp on it were thwarted by the severe winds. However, the park ranger was super nice, and told us about a few "secret" places where we could pitch our tent.

We chose this one:

I started working on dinner. . .

And Ted made fire. . .

Almost every meal on this trip consisted of quinoa with different combinations of vegetables.

This particular evening, we feasted on quinoa with corn cut from the cobb, fire roasted red bell peppers, sea salt and black pepper.

We got up early the next morning. . .

And explored the tufa. . .

We learned about the simple food chain of Mono Lake: algae>brine shrimp>sea gulls
And about Paiutes people who used to live here. They were called "Fly Eaters" (Kutzadika), because they would eat the brine fly pupae. . .

Which supposedly taste like bacon bits.

Later that evening, we splurged on gourmet grub at the Whoa Nellie Deli, inside a gas station. . .

These were Ted's fish tacos, one with mango plum pineapple salsa and the other with ginger coleslaw, served with a side of Brazilian black beans.

We got up early the next morning for another trip to the Tufas

And then we set off for the Travertine Hot Springs

The source!

On our way home, we stopped off at the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest

(The tree above is not a bristlecone pine, but it is beautiful nonetheless.)

We hiked for four miles amidst the oldest known living trees on earth.

Some of them are over 4,000 years old.

The most amazing thing about these trees, is that they thrive in the harshest environments.

Often, only a thin strip of living tissue will run through the tree, bringing life to a few branches.

Almost anything the environment can dish out, these trees can take. . .

and transform into something beautiful.

(Tricky Ted)

oh blah dee oh blahg dah

2010-09-29T13:48:00.000-07:00

Hello Dear Hearts,

Well, we're about five months into "normal" living, ie: (semi-)permanent mailing addresses, school, work, et cetera. Living several hours and many miles apart, but managing to see each other a few days each week. It's been, and continues to be, a tough transition, but we've managed to keep our chins up and our eyes focused on the silver outlined clouds above. We have also been able to maintain our adventuresome spirits, and cram in a few things worthy of note here and there. Which brings me to the jammer. I know we said our goodbyes, and Ted has stalwartly stuck to his new life no blog approach, but gave me the go ahead to pick things up and fill you in on what we've been up to. So, here's my attempt at jamming. . .

A recent trip to see Leonard and his mountainous monument of God's love.
(And time with the Koonces!)

ham

monkey men

picnicking within the mount

a laugh with leonard

And then we took a dead end road to Bombay Beach. . .

Bombay Beach smelled even worse than our visit back in February. . .

and everything had sunk even further into the salt n' sea. . .

but some things never change.

Blog Jammed

2010-08-07T20:58:00.000-07:00

this has become an exercise in futility. recounting the past seems this way, though, more often than not. the relentless march of the present creating the future leaves so incredibly many moments not remembered and many more only vaguely so. the rudimentary tools we wield to capture the present as it is past are just that, rudimentary. cameras and journals and blog entries we throw desperately like a net at time and experience in hope that they will somehow capture it for study later. the rest of this trip in the earlier part of this year has been displaced somewhat with memories and experiences and things caught in our rudimentary nets. for the sake of closure, or maybe just for the sake of finishing something we started, here is the rest of our west coast trip of the late winter in all of its fractional semi remembered form, beamed out of the incredibly punishing heat of mid summer central valley life.

we crossed back into oregon, beginning our southward travel by pausing in the extremely lovely town of astoria for, yes, vegan food and skateboarding. both were enjoyed with gusto. below is the plate i was served said vegan treats on. this region of the northwest was absolutely bursting with masonic imagery (painted on stuff, those magnetic masonic symbol car things, temples, etc), even down to the plates they serve food on.

and below you will find the park i got served on. even more northwestern concrete intimidation. amazing times.

the food and skating just ate away at our day and soon enough, we were breaching portland city limits in darkness. the next day, we set off toward bagy hot springs with our ever gracious and patient hosts, the french (frenchs? frenches? français?). when we purchased our day pass at the base of the mountain we had to summit to get to said hot springs, the ranger said it was snowing up there earlier in the day and we laughed inwardly at this preposterous proposition. the sunshine was incredibly brilliant as we ate our burritos at a leisurely pace. soon enough, we began our ascent toward the promise of relaxation via hot mineral water in a hollowed out log.

the nearer we drew to bagby, though, snow began to fall. mile upon mile up the mountain, it intensified incredibly. we proceeded upward into the storm, slip sliding around. upon arrival, the more sensible french chilled in the parking lot and (as is their nature) graciously encouraged us to go to the springs while they waited. melissa and i ran hiked the mile and a half to the hot springs (we made the hike in about twenty minutes, giggling as we slid-ran singing praises of the northwestern vegetation along the way).

slippy bridge along the way

bagby itself. waiting for th' tub to fill up was an engineering conundrum we mastered in no time. it mostly involved waiting.

and eating celery.

refreshed, we ran back down the trail even faster and met up with the french and were soon enough back in pdx safe and sound. bagby was absolutely worth the snowy peril and slippy hike run. beautiful beautiful relaxation nakey soak in the forest. highly recommended for anybody near or thinking of going near the portland area.

snack attacks brought us to the store that night, melissa began morphing into an avatar.

we bid portland adieu for the final time and meandered south. we encountered some patriotism along the way...

and then on into sonoma county. patrick amiot's lovely sculptures dotted the landscape.

and we saw were guayaki comes from. we also experienced the worst of yuppie/hippiedom. ooof, so intense up there.

and on down the coast we went to monterey. our monterey hosts (leif and margaret and their BEAUTIFUL offspring, riley and beck) were incredible to us, despite the newest addition to their family commanding most of their time. they even lent us borrow their monterey bay aquarium pass.

their sea horse exhibition was mind blowing

mind....blowing

melissa was disgusted at the male birthing process

and the thomas kinkade compound

then left monterey and scoped these beauts on the way down the coast.

and paid der tinkerpaw's estate a visit. totally badass.

the first house he built, in the back of the property. he let it serve as a monument to a special lady who lived with him in it. she left him and he left the house to rot. drank the wine and threw away the rose, as it were.

der tinkerpaw worked on hearst castle (which is not too far away from his cambria estate) and this is one of the few remaining bits he took from the hearst building site to add to his ridge.

and this looks like a bone

me, nitt witt ridge and the end of our west coast trip/blog jam.

amen.

*** and now, a note from melissa ***

dear you,
thanks for reading, thanks for caring.
thank you for your words and thoughts.
we hope to see you again sometime,
somewhere less digital and more face to face.

xo

Alki

2010-07-13T10:02:00.000-07:00

writing from this vantage point of a few months after the fact, recapping the rest of this trip feels a bit unimportant for all involved (the reader, the writer). so much has happened in the past few months in both of our lives that overshadows these happenings of march and april. as a practice, though, reflection via this public forum has proved helpful (and therapeutic, almost) in recalling the past, in dealing with the passage of time and the relentless drive forward. so, without further ado, we present washington, "alki" (by and by).

the drive from portland to seattle was pretty much doubled in time due to the skateparks and thrift stores and artworks lining the I-5 all the way up. the way north began by going south, to tigard, the land of dinosaurs and fourteen foot transitions comfortably slayed by the local 13 year olds and timidly carved by yours truly. the northwest concrete intimidation continued. and here is th' dinosaur.

soon enough we were going in the right direction, getting side tracked by the plethora of well stocked thrift stores and then this, RichArt's art yard. styrofoam and scrapwood and various trash-objects fashioned into sculpture and patterns, everything white washed. yet again, something quite un-captureable.

the grunge tour began at sleater kinney road in olympia and didnt seem to stop until we re-crossed the wa/or border.

more miles and thrift stores later, we found yet another esoteric creation. tacoma is home to John Lewis' mosaic monoliths. these mysterious creations in the forested back yard of mr. lewis were heightened in mystery because mr. lewis does not give tours and nobody came out to talk with us as we took in these creations in his back yard. after a brief chat with somebody we assume to be mrs. lewis, we self guided our way about one of the best environments we have seen up to this point. truly one of the most mystifying and intriguing and overwhelming art related experience ive had.

this met us up front.

and soon enough we were sucked in to the sculpture world out back.

as you can see, one of these works is about three of me

and two of melissa

beautiful! amazing! inspiring! creation for the love of creation, not for the love of talking about that creation...

dazed and amazed, we continued north to seattle. the next morning, our amazing friend and seattle host danny took us to the mind blowing wayward cafe. below is my "ex-benedict"

and melissa's "country bumpkin." (so good we had to return the next morning so i could get th' bumpkin).

continuing our grunge tour, danny led the way to the fremont troll. below, danny and myself contemplate plaids resurgence.

and soon enough, we were deep in rain forests.

saw the world famous snoqualmie water slides

snoqualmie falls itself. here is a great travel diary of the twin peaks lands we were ensconced in. badalamenti tunes were on continuous loop in m'head.

sir danny...

growth

seattlites from pennsylvania love german analytical psychologists, apparently.

had the good fortune to meet up with the nomadic/sporadic and always lovely liz keller. shes m'friend from way back and we gorged on pho. seattle possibly rivals north orange county in its pho output. broadway hosts an incredible amount of pho palaces.

we continued our grunge quest with a visit to the black hole sun. danny, melissa, liz and june remained on the hole's periphery, thinking about soundgarden and kurt cobain...

...while i interacted with the black hole sun itself. quite possibly one of the worst pieces of public art/sculpture ever.

june and melissa reflecting on all they saw together.

and then contemplating the future

we made our way ever more north, about as far as we could go sans passports. bellingham washington. so quaint and beautiful. the ever-elusive tim beardshear showed us about his adopted town, even taking us to super mario's.

juggalo infestation

and back to the wayward one more time for ruebens

and then to the sound garden itself.

even in the slightest wind, these things made amazing droney tones. we were stunned into silence by the atmosphere it created.

and donut tour continued with gusto.

soon enough, we left the loving and rainy seattle city limits for things further afield. on the way down the washington coast back to portland, we paid homage to marsh's free museum in long beach. akin to many other places we've visited (and will visit, no doubt), this familiar cluster of miscellany and mythical beasts was a very welcome addition to our collective memory of such miscellaneous beasts and bits and bobs.

hmmm....

jake the alligator man!

IT LANDS ON COWS

wellington marsh, sr. himself

see you soon.

Alis volat propriis

2010-06-23T12:36:00.000-07:00

the drive further north was amazing in its scenery and road curvature. along the smallish mountain roads linking our coastal curves to the I-5 mainline we came face to face with a world of BURLS!

(melissa sittin pretty beneath the tree house/burl workshop)

(it was indeed...)

(further into oregon, we trolled about eugene for animal-less dining and stumbled upon a veritable cornucopia of unique, down home sustanance. the cornbread cafe. one of the best places we've eaten, hands down).

(crotch-chocolate. vegan marshmallows to boot!)

(the cafe itself. genius meal crafting in a tiny trailer).

(approaching portland as the sun set, i forced our trajectory into the country-side in hopes of fulfilling the northwestern promise of concrete skatepark alchemy. the town of donald (population 600) contains a lovely pool which i insisted on skating until i couldnt see anything...timid carve over the light, under the coping. just the beginning of northwestern skatepark intimidation).

(king diamond approved, nonetheless)

(eventually, after navigating the remaining distance between donald and portland, we found a warm welcome at the home of the french. the next day we met the newest addition the clother family. young simon is beautiful and a very pleasant little man {and holds a very special place in our hearts and prayers}. he cuddled the knit whale for a good while).

(mt. tabor park! french! clother!)

(finley. the other triumph of clother progeny. he loved holding the handle of this thing as i ran with him back and forth and back and forth. uninhibited screams of joy. so good to hang out with him).

(chris in first, myste second and moi third out of three).

(no, i didnt buy anything...what?).

(rigorous clother jump training).

(and then the rains came. so consistent for the rest of our stay. not much else to do but eat donuts. we ventured to voodoo donuts for the first leg of our northwestern donut tour. pictured below is the old dirty bastard (melissa consumed the vegan version). russell jones was comprised of a glazed donut topped with oreo bits sprinkled atop with drizzles of peanut butter to finish it all off. two other circular sugar gut bombs accompanied russell down into m'stomach).

(finley approved)

(as did melissa's finger).

(as mentioned in the last post, we adopted a no-pictures-of-gracious-hosts policy for the majority of this trip. nich and lindsey, our other gracious hosts of portland, are therefore presented as the following...
a much younger nich, meeting none other than ken kesey

and lindsey, as penelope, basking in a rare sun ray).

(found m'likeness, to m'liking).

(jon and rachel, leaving their mark...)

(the last night in portland, we had the pleasure of visiting mr. and mrs. dehaan in their north portland homestead. i think its north portland...jon was having a birthday bash but still found time to show melissa and i his basement shrine of amplifiers and guitars and homebrews...)

(jon, myself and 13.5 percent dandelion wiiiiiine. so good)

and just like THAT, we left the rainy confines of portland for the sure to be rainier confines found further north. thus endeth the portland chapter, ended in real life a lot of months ago. stay tuned for chapter three.

Eureka!

2010-06-08T20:44:00.000-07:00

the plan was to drive up the west coast, armed with resumes, and plant ourselves wherever we could find jobs. this plan was the end result of our nine month jaunt about the country/globe that has been chronicled here, on the jammer. our foolhardy plan was called to attention, as reality revealed its head and responsibilities could be ignored no longer. we could, though, shirk them for a little while longer and thus, the west coast trip survived, although in a different form and with adjusted intentions. here follows part one of an account of our month criddling about the west coast, a good month and a half after the fact.

part one of this jaunt concerned itself with california, the part we are both somewhat unaccustomed with. the part that could very well (and perhaps should) be a completely different state; the north. norcal, if you will. first stop, oakland, where poster tour buddy anthony and kelsey welcomed us to in fine style and loving bosoms. radiant, loving bosoms, and the finest culinary delights. the first full day in the bay held atlas obscura day, which was a celebration of the "wonders, curiosities and esoterica" of the world (with excursions happening in all of the obscure corners of the globe). we explored the musee mecanique in san francisco...

(a ferris wheel made out of tooth picks, constructed by inmates of san quentin penitentiary)

(had to use both m'baby arms against this man)

(laughing sal, when fed coins, would laugh hysterically (terrifyingly), and rock back and forth)

(anthony!)

(segways!)

(melissa explains why we were walking over tombstones along the water front of aquatic park in SF to kelsey and anthony who missed that part of the obscura tour. we were making our way to the maritime museum).

(the museum is closed to the public for much needed renovations, but the power of the obscura (look at the smallish picture on the link and see if you can find us among the atlas obscura day goers) gained us access to the many beautiful murals of the building).

(for the majority of the time that people worked on this building, they worked under the impression that it was going to be a community center of sorts. when the building drew near completion, the word got out that it was going to serve, instead, as a very exclusive and expensive restaurant for the san francisco elites. this, then, prompted many of the craftsmen to abandon the job out of solidarity for the common man, this artist even left his mosaic unfinished, which has remained thus for the life of the building and will remain so).

(the ceiling of one of the rooms inside the museum).

(we remained on the peninsula while anthony and co returned eastbay. continuing our exploration of the northern tip of the peninsula, we came across this, the house of days. a camera mounted in this metal contraption shoots one photo an hour of the same scene, day and night. you could scroll back quite a few months and see the seasons and days go by. quite an effecting little surprise).

(more surprises)

(and even more. this ampatheatre is made out of all recplaimed materials).

(computer waste)

(melissa emerging from yet another small space)

(honey comb rear-view)

(and then we found the wave organ. pipes extend out into the bay and transmit sounds into the little enclave at the end of a peninsula. farty/slappy goodness straight to m'earballs)

(and melissa's)

(got me pumped for pole jumpin)

(as per anthony's recommendation, we attended a performance at the audium that night...the result of one man's (stan shaff) passion/obsession with sound/movement/space, the audium is a truly profound and utterly unique experience, highly recommended to anyone going to san francisco or thinking about going. this is as far as i will go in explaining it, so hopefully curiosity will be strong enough to pull you there).

(stan y yo)

(back at the east bay homestead, baloons were attacking inga)

(she held her ground, though).

(the next day we traversed the albany bulb. so incredible. doods built themselves hot tubs at the end of the bulb with million dollar views of the bay...living FREE).

(big remote or little melissa)

(chillin with members of th' wisard)

(and mr. seinfeld)

(inga inspected the bulb and found it satisfactory)

(after a MEGA pizza party (at least twelve slices) with the wisards and other friendly folk that eve, we slept comatose and spent the better part of the next day by the bay, at the sutro baths).

(stopped by to pay homage to st. john coltrane)

(the wild parrots of telegraph hill were not into being photographed. if you click on the photo below to make it big, you can make out the parrot in the middle of the photo. it was incredible watching them swoop and screetch and play).

(coit tower in the heart of parrot country, in all of its art deco glory)

(and just like that, we said goodbye to our east bay beneficiaries. we navigated the epic curves of the freeway north to mendocino to visit m'auntie/uncle in their beautiful homestead among the cellphonewave-phobic masses. truly, could not get any reception anywhere due to the blockage of any towers built up there. to set a precedent for the rest of the trip, we neglected to take any pictures of our hosts, and instead turned the camera on ourselves (sometimes) and inanimate objects (most times). this in no way shows ingratitude to our hosts. julie and jerry spoiled us with food and conversation and relaxation and jeopardy. anyhow, heres melissa among some nohl-ish figures).

(little house or big melissa)

(machinery!)

(boo!)

(ahh, the northern california coast...)

(watching meth)

(tried to watch whales near this light house, but failed miserably)

(so, we opted for this raw lemon poppy cake thing that was fluffy even though it was raw. i wish raw sweets werent so expensive. and im glad we dont live near here (where we purchased said sweet)for i would be even more broke than now)

(pee pee dance near the pacific)

(followed by feats of strength)

(concluding with fem pee pee dance)

thus ends part one of this last bastion of th'jams. stay tuned for tales of the further north west.

Birthdays, Days and Days

2010-04-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

ah, birthdays. ours are only about a week apart. the celebrations were indeed closely linked, in time and spirit. the desert was the destination, in both february and march.

first, though, we made a stops to see melissa's grandpa, and then my granny chase

to have her sage wisdom and stories that span the better part of the past millenium wash over us. she is a huge reason its awesome to be back in california.

next we visited one katie johnstone at her new san diegan household. somehow, she turned into a winking owl lamp everytime i tried to snap her picture. below you will find our gracious host for the night prior to the first leg of desert life.

and on to a first time visit at the salton sea. a valley that filled with water in the early 1900s that saw early interest of tourists, vacationers and real estate moguls. the demise of the salton sea as a tourist town happened as the salinity and pollution of the lake increased. now, the shores of the sea are lined with bones (fish and bird) and salt encrusts just about any and everything. all this, of course, led us right to its shores, its failures and its nature slowly reclaiming humanity's footprint (literally, houses crumbling into the earth) made us excited to explore this process. the towns that survive in the area (niland and bombay beach seem to be the biggest) foster populations out of a lynch movie, or an episode of cops. and yes, there is a film starring val kilmer called salton sea. we havent seen it, dont really plan to. there is a documentary its history, narrated by (surprise!) john waters.

(our sea-side resort.)

(when the morning light comes streamin in...)

(stretch'd)

(breakfast!)

the next morning, after night terrors and visions of desert people doing unthinkables to us (the wind shaking the tent every five minutes or so as a sure sign of these desert mutants breaking into our humble tent) and a belly full of DELICIOUSNESS, we ventured to niland, the home of leonard knight and his salvation mountain. what to do when you spend two years in nebraska hand stitching a huge hot air baloon that says " GOD IS LOVE" on the side of it and then not getting it to fly? move to the southern california desert, homestead a hill and the surrounding land and start scavenging out in the desert and then build and paint the love of God you couldnt get to fly above the great plains with the things scavenged. pictures do this place no justice. the message and life of mr. knight are incredibly beautiful, inspiring and important. he reminds me of an old testament prophet of sorts, living deep in the desert, proclaiming truth.

(free your mind, and your ass will follow...)

(quarter club!)

(after leonard taught us, we made our way back west, just in time to sacred harp sing with ms. jameson and co...i tried to sneak some photos, but you will soon learn what happened to them. jenn snuck this one of th' blessed event)

(and then to pokes for dinner and SURPRISE FRIENDS!)

(the POWER OF HENRY reduced m'stature)

(the best)

the days between my birthday and melissa's held many a beach excursion. the first, as referred to above, proved to remind me and those exploring with me, our true place in regards to nature. this true self is incredibly small and squashed in an instant.
(rocks)

(caves)

(jared standing in the tide pool where he, our friend peter and i all crumbled under some back to back rogue waves, mightily disregarding the six foot "protective" wall at the end of the pools. we were sent, a flailing mass of arms and legs and torsoes, scraping across coral and sinking me into a nearby underwater cave. once we surfaced and retreated wild eyed and soggy dogg, we realized the supreme power of the ocean, disregarding technological advances (namely my cell phone and camera, which is what i referred to earlier. apparently, only select photos got erased from my memory card in the submersion. those included some of the sacred harp, some of melissa and i standing with leonard knight, giving the thumbs up to a sunny day and God's love...)and generally, anything in its way.

a few days later we explored sunset beach. the freakish storming and winter-like weather southern california experienced around our birthdays served to (among other things) wash an incredible amount of refuse shore-ward. sunset beach was not an exception. it was like being at a dump. we decided to make lemonade with our dumpy lemons. we erected a teepee amidst the dead birds (even a pelican! hadnt seen one of those that up close ever. it was so big and majestic, even in death. which reminds me, louisiana's state flag has a pelican. apparently, these beautiful creatures will feed themselves to their young if the situation necessitates they do so) and empty cans of monster energy drink.

melissa's birthday (well, pre-birthday) party was held at the velaslavasay (yes, it has taken practice to say it, much less spell it) panorama, with matcha cupcakes to boot (i limited myself to about six).

(maaatcha! nikki! natcha!)

(the krewe)

(feets outside the panorama...)

(...eventually took us to a fine ethiopian dining establishment).

(sweet nectar)

while it may be no diamond, the food was still able to produce excitement to the point of blurry bliss. no one wanted to gursha, though....

(melissa, birthday cacti (courtesy of one nikki hinojos) and sir elkins)

and then melissa's real birthday. the desert. this time to joshua tree to inspect noah purifoy's work. this greeted us on our way to the environment.

and on into the environment.

(emerging from the stick igloo. stickiloo).

(voting....)

(...right into the toilet)

(ode to frank gehry)

(birthday girl!)

(stopped in cabazon on the way back and paid homage)

(for leo)

sorry for the mega post. had some blogstipation for awhile, working on getting more regular...

2010-03-15T12:34:00.001-07:00

jack rose, rowland s. howard, j.d. salinger and now mark linkous. twenty ten has already taken its fair share, indeed. great thinkers, seers and artists all...and so we plunge further into this new decade, faster than the speed of BLOG, we apologize for our pace. we are gathering the energy (and pictures) necessary to let you in on the new phases of life, but in the meantime, go here and keep an eye on any new developments. and then watch rowland , with the rest of the birthday party. mmmmmmmm.

Poster Tour Part Two (Squared)

2010-03-02T14:40:00.000-08:00

Thanks for reading along...patiently.

We finished poster touring (hopefully for good) a couple weeks ago, and this blog (as always) is terribly behind. So, brace yourselves for a big one as we attempt to cram far too many adventures into a single post.

San Angelo, TX

Pelts!

There! Over There!

Up 'N Over We Go

After the far west vastness of Texas felt properly explored, and we weathered torrential rains and meager sales, we thought we would be clever by driving straight to Oklahoma in one evening, so we could get to our next destination early the next morning.

Little did we know, the entire state had been recently candy coated by an ice storm, and apparently they don't know the magic of salt.

At first it was exciting and beautiful. I kept telling Ted how insane all the ice was and I would scream with delight when we'd drive under and icy tree and hear the branches jingle.

This was fun until we were ready to call it a night and had to drive across two towns for three hours until we found a hotel with any vacancies. Highlights of the ice truck through northern Texas and on into Oklahoma included, but by no means are limited to, finding things much like what is pictured below at the gas stations along the way.

We white knuckled through a night of Oklahoman icy back roads at thirty miles an hour, but the following morning only held about an hour drive to

Ed Galloway's Totem Pole Park
Foyil, OK

Akin to most of the things we love, the Totem Pole Park was difficult to capture.

But this did not stop us from trying.

Unfortunately, due to the weather, the Fiddle House was closed. (Yes, besides creating a 90 foot concrete totem pole, and a half dozen other cement beauties scattered about the property, Ed hand made fiddles. Enough to build a wigwam inspired structure to house them all in).

Nevertheless, we rejoiced at having had yet another day well spent.

The respite/rejuvination of Ed Galloway's sculpture park was short lived as we stared a week of back to back to back sales at schools an average of four hours apart from one another. First stop,

Murray State
Murray, KY

A sculpture at Murray of a man reading, reading a fish at some angles apparently.

Next Stop, Lindsey Wilson University.

John B Begley Chapel. E. Faye Jones, a student of Frank Lloyd Wright, designed this chapel inspired by the grain silos of rural Kentucky. Great acoustics in there.

LWC was good to us. They gave us student helpers, sandwiches and tator tots.

Tennessee Tech was our final destination of a two week stint of back to back sales, with four hour drives in the evenings between them.

By the time we arrived I was exhausted to the point of having poured orange juice (rather than hot water) onto the tea bag in my travel mug.

Fortunately, we were there in time to catch the work of Mary Francis Gaynier, on view in the gallery.

Unfortunately, the magnificence of her work was difficult to capture. But here are a few attempts anyways.
Manwich

Arachnophobia

Field Museum

On our way to our final sale in southern georgia, we had to make some crucial stops. First and foremost,

Village Pizza
Cabbagetown, GA

The last time we were in Georgia, our friend Lil' Ang introduced us to Village Pizza, and we have craved it ever since.

Well, hello vegan pizza by the slice!

Next, something I (Ted), didnt know i needed, but absolutely did and do. Six dollar mix tapes at the gas stations of Atlanta. The ATL! Gucci Mane and Lil Wayne were about all i could afford. They even spelled "Wayne" wrong as a proof of authenticity.

Finally, a pilgrammage to the land of St. EOM

Eddie Owens Martin Himself

(A small fraction of)Eddie's kit.

This Dog, perched above us, had an incredible case of ADD. It ran, full speed, across Pasaquan, the two hours+ we spent touring it.

Mandala room

Melissa transfixed by MANDALAS.

The janky electrical work of St. Eom. It seemed he was into the aesthetic value over the safety value. Kudos! (Held by our fearless/fantastic tour guide, Penny.)

A photo of a photo of Jarvis Cocker chillin inside the walls of Pasaquan.

Nose wall

The dog would stop briefly to say hi, and for this picture, bye. The Land of Pasaquan did not disappoint. oooof.

After soaking up as much as possible of the overwhelming vision/creation of St. EOM, we headed to our last sale in southern Georgia. Valdosta, Georgia was the site of our last sale...ever (again, we really hope so). Valdosta is almost Florida, so it would make sense for this sale to be outside. Starting late the first day, torrential rains the next and 30 degree weather the last made for nonsensical selling and by nonsensical, I mean painful, especially that last day. We would take turns going inside for warmth or stand in the sun and do jumping jacks. After getting lambasted in southern Georgia, it was time for familial healing/hang outs with Rich and Nicole in South Carolina before the long trek to the snowy north.

Severus lept for joy (or for his toy).

Schatszi remained stoic and vigilant.

Rich and Nicole. We love you

Boiled peanuts!

The Tragers took us to the hominy grill. Southern cooking at its best. truly.

Case in point, fried green tomato BLT with cheese grits and okra.

A vegan option to boot!

The sixteen hour drive to Pensylvania was made a bit more pleasant by stopping South of The Border.

Sheep!

Sheep Leap

Weiner Rest

America!...

For all the faults and embarassment one can find with this land of the free, there is equal if not more to be found to be extremely proud of. The deeper we dig into each state, the more treasures they reveal. Whether it be art, conversation, food or pine forests, our country is seemingly endless in its bounty of amazing/inspiring people places and things. and tastes.

With all of this love of country boiling up in him, Ted eventually exploded and turned into an eagle.

With the sixteen hour drive under our belts, we turned in the truck and were off to california in no time (well, some time for melissa, who got lay overed. But, to have a lay over anywhere, Chicago was time well spent).

Poster Tour Part Two (Part One)

2010-02-06T20:37:00.000-08:00

"So. . . Uh. . . Do you, like, drive this stuff around to different colleges all over america?"
"Yep."
"Whoa, That is sooooo cool!"

Poster Tour, 2010. A brave new decade:

We headed south, for the blessed promise of a southern tour. Alas, the big freeze followed us down. pulling off the road somewhere in virginia, to see the mythical "natural bridge", we instead were drawn, first, to a dinosaur on a billboard (almost getting our tons of posters and truck stuck in a snow bank)

and then to a dilapidated building (where i did indeed get the truck stuck on a snow bank.)

i tried, pathetically, to hack and scoop away the snow with our provided ice scraper. after breaking said scraper somewhat, i was out of ideas. some Norweigan/Minnesotans came to our rescue, wielding proudly and excitedly a shovel that they had brought with them on their tour of the "warmer" states (i guess 25 degrees beats whatever it is in minnesota).

Frozen fountain in Atlanta.

Getting up before the sun does.

I'm subtle, subtle like a t-rex, and I haven't even started yet. One week of the road and I'm already wrecked. I don't know what city I'm in. . .

We often hurt one another's feelings on poster tour,

And so, we have to come up with more creative ways to apologize.

And better ways to use the carts. . .

Not all sponsors are bad.
In fact, some sponsors remember what your favorite morning beverage is after having already treated you to one the previous day, and then they proceed to buy you lunch, and send you off to your next school with a bag full of vegan treats, water bottles, and naked juice. . .

So what do you eat when YOU'RE on poster tour, hmmmm?? (that dinner/lunch and dinner the next day, simmering in our trusty skillet was a home made lentil soup).

In Texas they take "Free Hot Breakfast" to the next level.

Any chance he can get. . .

I must have had to nod my head at at least six "One more time!"s before he pulled this one off. Even the (plug wearing/peace sign throwing) kid working in the gas station said on the loud speaker, "You'll never be able to do it." whilst Ted was making his attempts. But then he proved us all wrong.

Ted likes to take many, many Product Shots. . .

What we do when we aren't slinging posters:

Behind the scenes at Cafe Campesino
Americus, GA

Koinonia Farm
Americus, GA

Pit stop at the End of the Line Cafe!!!
Pensacola, FL
Ceasar Salad

Rueben (with home made cashew cheese!)

And a stop for gasoline. . .
apparently, charles bronson services gas pumps in the panhandle of florida nowadays.

Ted made many attempts, while driving, at photographing the St. Charles Street Car (The oldest continuously operating street railway system in the world! Every car is a historical landmark.)
New Orleans, LA

House along St. Charles street. We drove this amazingly beautiful stretch of road every morning for a week.

Ted made me shoot things out of the window while he drove us down to the Bayou.

To go see Kenny Hill's Sculpture Garden
Chauvin, LA

Ted had beniets at Cafe du Monde.
New Orleans, LA

We trudged through a lot of mud. . .

For a very long time. . .

To see the work of Charlie Stagg.
Vidor, TX

Charlie felt bad for us having trekked through the mud,

So he let us in.

We went to Austin, TX, where Linds spoiled us rotten. She treated us to dinner at Kirby Lane, and let us stay in her lovely home.

The next morning our friends from Cornwall, Sharmilla and Ingo, met up with us and we all went to breakfast at Jo's.

Sharmilla and Ingo documenting for their blog (Which is amazing, by the way. It tells their tale of a road trip across America as seen through European eyes, and it's loaded with lots of hot tips we never would have thought of).

Then we all headed over to the Cathedral of Junk.

Shot lots of silly photos (my skull, dude!!!?)

Although, Linds is a real pro, and everything she shoots is lovely.

And we even had the honor of chatting it up with the Junk King himself.

And then we had dinner at Casa de Luz (mmmmmmmm!!!!)

Early the next morning, Sharmilla set up the camera,

And we took one last group photo before we parted ways with our dear English friends.

Linds treated us to burritos at Freebirds for our final meal in Austin.

She whipped up an adorable dog in a jiffy with her tin foil,

While Ted made a tin foil television and I made a teeny tiny chair.

Per the recommendation of a poster purchasing student, whom, unless her button was lying, "Hearts Vegan Boys", we went to Spiral Diner
Fort Worth, TX

Mate, agave and a dash of soy, we had missed you so much. . .

A big texas salad,

Nachos Supreme,

Aaaaaand, a mudslide (That's right, a hot freshly made brownie topped with homemade vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, hot fudge and nuts)!

The Spiral did not disappoint.
We gorged.

I swooned.

And Ted tried to keep it down and add some more after I threw in the towel.

We then headed deeper into the heart of Texas...

Home Sweet Home

2010-01-27T20:33:00.000-08:00

And then we were back in California for a month.
It was good. It was busy. It went fast. It was fun.

It included a trip to Tahoe with the Tragers.

Family holiday shinanigans.

(Immersion blender! Can you say, Hello soup season?!)

(This year's Christmas Creative Craft assignment was wreath making. Ted painted up an old board for Michael [my cousin's skateboard obsessed boyfriend] and I made an onion wreath with a bow of onion recipes for my onion loving cousin)

(I brought Christmas Crackers and brussel sprouts to Ted's family's Christmas Eve dinner. It's safe to say that England had its effect on me.)

A nature walk by the pacific

(Stick Stache)

(Tree Holder)

(the sun setting on 2009)

Ringing in the new year with games and vegan sweet treats.

(mmmmm, vegan caramel)

(fast hands, with overlord templeton studying technique)

(cheers! new years!)

(the crew)

(puttin a small dent in the temptster firework stockade)

after the intensities/niceties/and lovelies of our brief time home, we arranged a last hurrah trip to the museum of Jurassic technology. it wasnt everything i thought it was going to be, but it was definitely more. for sure. the less you know about this place before you go, the better. but, be sure and go, if you find yourself in culver city.

With the new year still brand new, our money run out, our time up, it was time to be off for another poster tour. . . of "we are never going to do THAT again" fame.

Lucky Last London Looksees

2010-01-24T17:57:00.000-08:00

We woke early on our second to last full day in London, so as to pack goodness into every moment possible. At the recommendation of our fast friends made our final day in Morocco, we went to Monmouth Coffee, close to the Seven Dials and Neal's Yard in Covent Gardens. We were dismayed to find that in spite of (and perhaps due to their purism in) their superior coffee, they do not serve soy milk, nor do they offer any non-coffee beverages. Ted with his distaste for coffee, and me with my hankering for a latte, Monmouth Coffee was not the place to be.

Instead we wandered Neal's Yard.

(monty python used to live in neal's yard, apparently)

We ended up getting reeled into a cafe there. Skeptical at first of the pushy staff, lack-luster menu descriptions, awful decor, and ear abusing music, we ordered and hoped for the best. In the time between ordering and being served we saw three couples enter the restaurant, sit down, peruse the menu and leave without ordering.

Things started looking up after a trip to the toilet, and the discovery of the magically decorated interior. What went wrong with the rest of the restaurant remains a mystery.

And then, the food arrived.

And completely blew us away. This! This was far more than mere tofu eggs, veggie sausage, beans and toast. This was an overload of taste sensation!! (this all, was taken a picture of, but alas ted erased them from his camera. bah!) Each piece of "toast" was a medallion of flavorful chewy goodness! Sun dried tomato, basil, and ginger, each was like a punch to the tastebuds. I freaked out, ate until I could not eat any longer, and then wrapped the rest of my medallions in my napkin and placed them in my pocket for a tasty snack later.

But enough about food.

We then happened upon Arthur Beale's, a yachting store that's well over one hundred years old. Hard wood floors, tiny drawers filled with everything from rope and compasses to brass fittings and golden anchor key chains, each with its own type written label. I purchased an amazing golden keychain that tells you the days corresponding to the dates of the year between now and forty years into the future. I purchased one for myself, one for Nathan (our generous host), one for Melina (who loves all things nautical) and one for my father (who loves gadgetry of all kinds and proclaimed that the keychain would probably work longer than the years he has remaining in his life, and then I threatened to take it back if he didn't stop being such a kill joy). I freaked out there too, and fell in love with the old man behind the counter.

Then we got lost, trying to find our way on foot from Covent Gardens to Daunt Books on Marylebone High Street. And so, we stopped to ask directions from the most adorable, pink shirt wearing, french accenting, cigarette smoking man.

And then, I lost it.

The day had been filled with too much goodness and I could not take it any longer. I walked around with my hand affixed to my forehead for a few minutes, pretending that my knees were buckling under the weight of amazement. And then, Ted and I laughed and he made me do it again so he could take a picture.

Daunt Books was well worth the trek. We swooned over books with lovely cover art, the beautiful edwardian oak shelves that held said books, the skylights, the atmosphere in general, another overwhelming episode of these last london looksees.

(heres the interior from the second storey. on the banister you will find the stack of books that grew to an even more out-of-budget but necessary group of tomes that we walked out of there with)

Then we wandered around Brick Lane and saw some new art,

This had been carved into the wall.

and some art in process. . .

(space invader seemed to be the harbinger of good fortune. he followed us about the city. heres just a few sightings)

Then we met up with a few friends for dinner at Cha Cha Moon (also per the recommendation of our fast final friends from Morocco). It did not disappoint...

(andrew and leo !)

(we strolled about carnaby street afterward and found bill, lurkin)

And THEEEEEEN. . .

On our final final day, we got coffee with Lindsey and Emma.

Emma did us proud by finishing a latte larger than her head.

We (and by "we" I mean Ted, because I am worthless when it comes to spotting celebrities) saw Martin Freeman, of British Office fame, getting a beverage of his own. Lindsey was super sneaky and took a photo of Ted and I with Marty pants bombing the photo in the background, when we were really bombing a photo of him - double whammo!

(Photograph courtesy of Lindsey Stealth Strobel)

And then we said see you later to Emma, and then she headed to work.

And then Lindsey, Ted and I continued on to Brick Lane in pursuit of (the best) bagels (in the world). And then we wandered around. And then I found a fifty pound note on the ground.

Yep. That's right. It was almost too good to be true, but then it really was true, and more freaking out ensued.

Then Lindsey had to rush off to work, and Ted and I spent the day dreaming about how we would spend it.

Then the time flew swiftly by.

We met up with Andrew, and spent our fifty pound note, and then some, on an amazing dinner in a double decker bus. (Andrew's first experience with vegan food. He gave it a thumbs up, and wondered why he had waited so long to give animal free food a chance.)

(thumbs up! to red lentil kofta)

(th' bus)

(panissa (chick pea puree rolled in polenta, then fried) and served with olives/sundried tomatoes and salad)

(melissa's oven braised tofu and carmelized onion tart with rosemary cream sauce served with oven roasted garlic and herb new potatoes with brussel sprouts)

(ted's nut cutlett (hmmm) served with soft polenta, drizzled with a red wine/mushroom gravy with mixed greens)

(whoa....chocolate fondant. fresh from the oven with ice cream and berries along with an ice cream platter.)

(andrew, satisfied)

(us, overwhelmed, mystified, overjoyed. money well found/spent)

(th' finished product, seen on the way back to the tube)

(high above greenland. parting with somewhere we've spent the most time in a long time was difficult, but the send off couldnt have been any better)

Girona

2010-01-24T07:19:00.000-08:00

With unprecedented wisdom, we decided to spend our last night in Spain in Girona (the airport we were flying out of) rather than getting to Barcelona late in the evening, and trying to get to Girona early enough the next morning to catch our flight.

We stayed with a couchsurfing couple whose abundant generosity amazed us. Pitu picked us up at the bus station, and took us to his home where he kept putting piles of food in front of us and telling us to Eat! Eat! Eat! He was extremely apologetic for offering me tuna salad after Ted spilled the vegan beans. Instead I partook in some pasta salad, several tangerines, and a genuine "Catalan traditional food", pan amb tomaquet. This is when they take a piece of bread or toast, smear the pulp of a tomato all over it (sometimes they use garlic in addition to tomato), drizzle it with some olive oil and sprinkle it with salt. A tasty tread indeed. I asked Pitu if I was supposed to eat the rest of the tomato and he looked at me like I was crazy and said that he guessed I could, but if I wanted a tomato to eat he has better ones for eating that he would gladly give me.

Pitu and Laia, along with their friends visiting from Barcelona, took us out for a tour of the town. We started off sipping tea and chocolate (which Pitu insisted on paying for, because we were his guests) at a cute little cafe and then we wandered around the city, up and down cobbled roads, asking and answering questions and learning all sorts of things about Catalan culture and tradition.

(we stumbled upon a movie screening of one of laia and pitu's friends films about the homeless of girona. looked so beautiful and heartbreaking. too bad we dont speak catalan. we asked the film maker, in very poor spanish, if the film would ever see wider release and he looked at us like we were crazy and said no)

(crossing a bridge over the river onyar. it was constructed by the same people that brought us the eiffel tower)

(the catalonians are intensely separatist. there was separatist graffiti everywhere in girona. the picture at the beginning of this blog is a perfect example of this. below is as well. so many catalonian flags about. catalan is a lot different from its castillian counter part (the castillians were the most interested in imperialism and thus it is the most wide spread version). the signage in girona is in castillian spanish and many signs were spraypainted out and spelled in the catalonian way)

(girona cathedral)

(legend has it that if you touch this statues butt, you will return to girona. pitu got really excited and was soon hoisting me up to touch it)

Another gem brought to our attention by our generous/excitable host. It remains a mystery of how it got there to both us and our host.

A highlight was certainly learning about Tio. Tio de Nadal is the Catalan answer to Santa Clause. We discovered this after Ted took a picture of what looked like a log wearing a Santa hat.

(a store well stocked with tio)

As it turns out, Tio is, in fact, a log whom is often depicted wearing a Santa hat. But discovering this was perhaps the best part. The following conversation, or something like it (it has been quite a while) ensued after Ted shot his photo:

Pitu: Do you know Tio?
Us: Uncle?
Pitu: No. Tio, Catalan tradition. Him (pointing to image in photo above)
Us: Please explain!
Pitu: He is a section of a tree (lots of hand motions)
Us: A log?
Pitu: Yes! A log with a blanket on his back and then the children beat him with parts of a tree. . .
Us: Sticks?
Pitu: Yes! And they beat him saying "Tio! Tio! Tio!" Until he, how do you say, going to the bathroom? (More motions)
Us: Going to the bathroom?
Pitu: Yes. . . (obviously not satisfied with our answer) And the parents put presents under the blanket to make it look like he goes to the bathroom presents!
Us: Do you mean poop?
Pitu: Yes!!!

We were amazed at this tradition, and still are. You can read more about it here, and we recommend that you do.

Pitu and Laia had to run a marathon in a forest early the next morning, so they could not stay out too late. They went home, leaving us to wander Girona with a spare key in hand. At Pitu's recommendation, we ate at this amazing crepery, full of repurposed buses and bus station parts, with walls adorned with classic advertising. The food was delicious, and the service top notch.

(eggs! sausage! crepe! [Ted, you turd, don't forget the salad!])

Full bellied we found our way back to Pitu and Laia's classy apartment (Did I mention how cute it is? They have impeccable taste and their home has plenty in it to Oooo and Aaaaah about. Including a genuine Calder mobile). Pitu left three bottles of Ratafia, two little glasses and hand written descriptions for us to read when we sample them. (Ted had asked Pitu about a lovely decorated bottle we saw on our Pitu lead walking tour of Girona. Pitu was really excited and explained that Ratafia was the Catalan national drink and that he even brews some himself.) I could only try two, seeing as the third contained cream, but they were certainly tasty. An anise infused sweet nectar with a kick of something else I can't put my finger on.

The next morning we set out for some more exploring before our flight, but to our disappointment, we discovered that nothing in Girona is open on Sunday morning. So we peeped through windows and revisited some of the places we had seen in the darkness to see what they looked like in the light.
(mmmm xocolate)

All in all we were pleasantly surprised by Girona, having previously thought of it as a mere airport town, a pit stop to Barcelona. We discovered that Girona has heart and character all its own and well worth a visit or an extended stay.

Sevilla

2010-01-23T16:49:00.000-08:00

the next morning, we found the way back to an opened bus station. upon check out of our hotel near the port, the same group of spaniards we saw the night before playing cards smoking, drinking, looking haggard, were still at it. we waited at the station, paced, perused the various pork flavored goods at the mini mart at the station and soon we were on board the bus and en route to seville.
(ham flavored ruffles...)

we reunited with the bentleys in their hometown in the heart of andalusia. it was marvelous to see them again and being in the presence of people so familiar was quite the welcome change to what we found south of spain. we settled into their beautiful apartment and walked about the streets of seville (and was awe struck at the beauty of their street signage. the lettering was amazing. heres only a brief peek into the dozens of photos i took (much to the annoyance of those who were walking with me) of these beauts).

then, we took in the sunset over the guadalquivir, bought some roasted chestnuts and retired to our loft in the bentley household.

(jordan)

our time in seville was truncated by the invasive extra day we spent in morocco, but what we lacked in time we indeed made up for in ground covered and sights seen. we began the first full day in seville as any (or all) good days should start, with churros dipped in chocolate.

we ran through about three double orders of this fried goodness and then made our way to the massive Catedral de Santa María de la Sede . breathtaking in its magnitude and beauty, we took our time examining the organ, altar, graves, orange grove and walking up the thirty five ramps (instead of stairs) that lead you into the bell tower at the top of the giralda.

(walking the ramps)

(almost there)

(the top...)

(...looking down)

(crocodiles in the courtyard)

(holy bones)

(part of the organ. couldnt capture its girth in one photo)

(sleepin)

(baby clouds)

(stompin babies)

(the altar, by Pierre Dancart. also quite imposing and impossible to capture via photograph. so incredibly detailed and huge. i could have stared at it for hours and not seen everything)

(cristobol colon)

(this is supposedly the resting place of parts of christopher colombus. there has been some debate as to the validity of the claim of his remains. i dont know what to think)

(bathroom assertion)

southern spain and northern morocco were quite striking in their multi cultural/religious histories that intertwine and the architectural/societal impact that history has had and continues to have today. the cathedral in seville is a shining example of this mash up of very strong religious and cultural ties. the giralda began life as a minaret. there were many islamic accents throughout the structure, including the orange grove mentioned above, that was intitially used in the pre worship rites of muslims.

(spanish and arabic collision. the textual equivalent of the cathedral)

(in the grove)

after the cathedral we returned to the bentley estate for tortillas, spanish tortillas. i make the distinction because spanish tortillas are quite distinct from the mexican version that ive known and loved (and still do). this version is akin to the frittata. potatoes and eggs co mingle, smashed up and fried with some onions.

jordan had the flipping technique for the tortilla down to a science. he graciously gave me one and i took about one and a half of this starchy goodness. the culture of spain has not escaped the bentleys, and so when siesta hit, we would wander about, hang out on the roof or join in the siestivities. after the tortilla feed, the bentleys had to get ready for thanksgiving. we parted ways, melissa and i having our sights set on paella as a suitable substitute for the thanksgiving we were missing out on. we made a large circle in search of said paella, and ended up at a restaurant about a block away from the betleys. our thanksgiving paella feed was a bit anticlimactic as paying ten euros for a pre made microwave paella kit should be. we retired back to the apartment, watched a documentary on leonard cohen, and called it a night.

our last day in seville held the most in depth look about the city, walking most of its entirety with jordan at the helm. we learned spanish history, strolled about la plaza espana and surrounding parks and indulged in tapas (or, rip you offas. really, though, its a beautiful and delicious tradition of sampling many many foods really late at night, sippin on red wine and orange fanta) and ended our last night in seville watching flamenco. this gem in the heart of andalucia was quite charming, indeed, and we were bummed the next morning saying our goodbyes to our hosts and their beautiful adopted home.

al-Maġrib (pt. two)

2010-01-17T18:30:00.000-08:00

not knowing what time the sun would come up, but really wanting to watch it do thus from the roof of the hostel, we awoke a good couple of hours too early. the light eventually crept over the mountains and into the valleys.

(early)

(morning)

(eyes)

chefchaouen is not the biggest of towns and this first full day provided ample time to see and explore the many blue-hued closes. in the morning light, with just a few people walking about, proved to be the best time for exploring. the afternoon to late afternoon crowds were overwhelming and exhausting.

(blues)

(and hues)

(spice ceiling)

(bee eh)

(arret!)

(serenaded)

(blessed by a toureg)

(tiles)

(tea. all day)

the search for tapes and handcrafted goods and knowledge wore on (with good results. just feast your eyes on cheb).

we eventually met back up with our canadian cohorts inadvertently and shared in the joy of mint tea, cultural centers/mosques and wandering the small blue lanes late into the night.

the next morning we arose again with the sun and resolve to hike deep into the mountains high above chefchaouen. the morning, though, we secured our seats on buses north (melissa and i) and south (the canadians, deeper into morocco), added one more to our group in the form of a world (seriously, everywhere) travelling young australian, had more mint tea and then began walking up hill. the mountains were full of goat herders, firewood gatherers, lurkers, hash peddlers and some of the most pristine hiking that ive had. the vague goal was to reach a more remote mountain town, but a good eight miles up a steady punishing incline was enough for us to opt out of the extra five miles it would have taken to reach said town. happy with our summit, the hike down didnt seem nearly as punishing and was made even less so with the sunset views we were afforded as we descended back into chefchaouen.

(firewood gathered)

(the town from above)

(goat herder)

(the crew)

(the parc)

happy with the balance of city and nature life we kept while in chefchaouen, we retired after yet more mint tea and delicious tajine to the pension for one more night of snore patterns.

the next day, tea and waiting. we met yet more world travellers, this time in the form of an amazing brazilian couple that has been living in italy for awhile now. so incredibly intelligent and funny, they made the ride up to tangier quite managable. compared to the passage down, the ride north and then back across the straight of gibraltar was as easy as it could get. while getting back to spain was fairly easy, and communicating with people a bit more managable, the fun didnt stop as we missed the last bus up to seville and had to spend the night in algeciras.
(twinkly lights of tangier, further and further away)

al-Maġrib (pt. one)

2010-01-03T16:24:00.000-08:00

missing out on ireland redirected our path towards various areas of england that we had both never been to, and loved intensely (this youve been made aware of). from the big smokey couch of brighton, our path was influenced toward something we had all but given up on. after barcelona, we did indeed make our way to the african continent. we woke early in our hostel on la rambla and made our way down to catch a taxi to the airport. our driver seemed extra sluggish, perhaps annoyed by my three-year old spanish. exclamations of "rápido, señor! estamos muy tarde por el avión!" seemingly only made the man go slower (literally stopping a few times as we cruised la rambla, to tell me to put on my already fastened seatbelt, among other insanities). whatever the cause (a ticking meter on the cabbies dash is the most probable one i can think of), matters not for soon we boarded our plane to malaga. a few bus rides after landing in malaga, we were deposited in the port city of algeciras, one of two points in southern spain to catch the ferry to morocco from. we planned on going to the other point (tarifa), but as we discussed waiting for three hours to catch the bus to tarifa (which is only about 25 miles from algeciras) somebody heard us and implored us to just take the ferry from algeciras. following the advice of a stranger, we walked the few blocks from the bus station to the port. greeting us at the port were the first of dozens of "helpful" souls that we encountered as we guess-worked our way to mama africa. these gentlemen herded us toward their friends ferry-ticketing business. we were sold tickets, some euros more than we should have, for a ferry that boarded twenty minutes before we even entered said establishment. while our tickets were being processed for the first time, two other hurried/frantic looking tourists (one of which was carrying a surf board)entered the establishment and we exchanged greetings and soon, goodbyes. as we were returning to the ticket office, we ran into the gentlemen we met earlier and found that they, too, had been hustled. alas, we explained our situation to the ticket vendor, and were given new tickets for the same route (or so we thought). running back to the port, i looked at our new tickets and saw that our destination had been changed. we found our way through security and met up with twice mentioned gentlemen for a third time. these gents (doug and nate from here on out) so happened to be headed where we were headed, albeit through a different port on the other side of the straight of gibraltar (we caught them at the very beginning of an insanely ambitious trek of the length of continental africa. they hail from vancouver and wanted to escape the expenses and insanity of a city hosting the olympics. i hope they are doing well, wherever they are now).

(leaving spain, to go to spain)

(the rock of gibraltar)

(nate and darth)

(nate, douglas and melissa)

(spanish castle in morocco)

we landed in ceuta and somehow found the bus to the border (yes, ceuta is a spanish city on the african continent), all the while doug drawing attention/giggles/stares, toting his surf board through the streets and onto the buses of ceuta. the border between ceuta and the rest of morocco consists of a dirt lot enclosed by a chain link fence that we went on foot through, while people swarmed us exclaiming "my friend! my friend!" trying to get us to buy this, take a ride in their taxi, etc. this atmosphere did not produce in us a sense of trust, but official-ish looking people (laminated business cards hanging on lanyards from their necks)got us through customs (which included getting scanned for swine flu) and yelled at the junkies offering us rides in their taxis to get away. we eventually accepted a taxi offer from one of the laminated-lanyard fellows. his friend would drive us straight to chefchaouen for a good twenty euros a piece. all accounts settled and ready to drive off, another of the lanyard men delayed us in asking for a tip. douglas (surf board) finally relinquished a hefty amount of euros in the man's direction and we were off.

(just over the border, colors flying proud)

(cramming douglas' board into the trunk)

if only for thirty minutes. we pulled into the first town we came to, stopped at the side of the road and our driver starting demanding "passports! passports!" eventually douglas wandered off, with passport in hand, with the driver leading the way. eventually, to our relief, the two returned to the vehicle and we were officially on the way.

every single town we passed on the three and a half hour drive our cabbie would exclaim loudly and then start giggling, thus making us giggle in response (it was our main way of communicating with him, this giggling, for he didnt speak french or spanish or english and we didnt speak arabic or berber). we passed massive sheep and goat sales (sheep getting wrangled and man-handled into cramped trunks) and gorgeous mountains and valleys with the setting sun playing off of them. after climbing into the mountains where chefchaouen resides (chaouen! chaouen! he exclaimed in between giggles), our cabbie dropped us off at the city center. we were unmercifully hounded all the way to our hostel by prospective tour guides. we made it to our pension and settled in to an epic three course meal at a nearby restaurant and then found sleep in the rhythms of doug's gargantuan snoring patterns.
(hefty meal, hefty day, canadians)

Barthelona

2009-12-29T23:17:00.000-08:00

after a little over a month on the island, we were off to the continent. managing to catch our plane on the correct day and time, we made our way to girona. the hour and a half bus ride into barcelona could not prepare us for the game of "find that hostel" that awaited us upon arrival at the estacion de autobuses. yes, a hostel. the couchsurfers of barcelona stone-walled us. all thirty+ that i emailed turned us down. we searched the late night, getting later, streets of barcelona for "hostel la rambla" but found there to be many of these hostels about, none of which was the right one. i mumbled broken spanish at many people we encountered on the street (at the behest of the proprietor of the hostel we were searching for. literally: "ask somebody, anybody, they will know what you are talking about") and still, we wandered. it turns out our wanderings werent unfounded, because what we were looking for was not a big sign telling us "hostal la rambla" but a few numbers and letters in point twelve sized font among many others next to an unmarked door. we eventually frustrated our hostel owners enough that they met us at one (not the one we intended to go to) of two of their hostels and checked us in. with la rambla right outside our window, it was difficult to sleep in and so the next day began early. we made a large loop of the city, spending a lot of time atop la pedrera

(little spaces!)

(gaudi love hugs)

(the sand dune-like ceilings of the interior of this gaudi dreamscape)

and generally wandering to see what we could find.
(el ingenio, in the depths of wander-friendly gothic district. amazing store full of big heads, marionettes, pranks, toys, masks, etc. melissa lost it. [can you blame me? this place was amaaaaazing!!!!] we came back the next night with the betleys. heres melissa and i with the man who greets you at the front of the establishment).

(the small door. i banged my head real good on it).

(uuuhhhhhhhhhhhgggggg)

(eeeeeessshhhh)

(found pep!)

(and a hair globe)

the next day we met up with jordan and sarah bentley. the bentleys have been a part of my life for some time now and it was incredibly lovely to meet up with them in their newly adopted land, albeit not their home (just yet). our first day with the bentleys began at

and then took on a similar trajectory as the previous day's loop, stopping at

(we had to sneak about to take a look at the inside of this insanely ornate hospital, for they were officially closed to tourism at that moment)
and also to take in the massive last project of Antoni Plàcid Guillem Gaudí i Cornet, the sagrada familia, that remains under construction, as it has for the last 120 or so year and will continue to be for the next fifteen at least.

(christ enveloping someone in his beams)

(the pillars of the inside are supposed to resemble trees. where the beams branch off is supposed to resemble this part of the tree).

(nice people tag)

(we splurged and went to the top!)

(watchful christ)

(melissa was disgusted (rightfully so) that people have such bad aim. derek would have bee shakey angry and armageddon-worthy angry at this turn of events).

(the windy, no handrail, seemingly endless stairs down)

and ending at the arc de triumf.

the next day we made our way to montjuic, which is a hill directly across the valley of barcelona from parc guell. first, though, we met up with jordan and sarah at a market to grocery shop/sight see. and there were indeed some sights to be seen. various and many severed animals head/body parts were on display among the vibrant colors of fruit and vegetables.
(coffee! near the market)

where we thought the market was going to be housed

was instead moved over here

making the whole experience quite the cramped sensory overload. the old spanish women that amassed there werent afraid to wield their wheely carts to push and prod and control you out of their way unmercifully.
montjuic is absolutely stunning. we took both the funicular from the bowels of the city, to about midway up the mont, and then the cable car the rest of the way up. we walked about the castle that perches at the top of it.
(riding the funicular)

(cable car!)

(castle exterior)

(castle interiors)

and then meanderingly made our way back down

(this whole area, mid montjuic, reminded me of destinos. what was once a daydream in high school became a reality. of sorts).

(these things made music. our exuberance in making that music cause visable distress and anger among the picnicing families who were about)

(zip line!)

(jumpy)

stopping at the national palace to take in the views.
(top, looking down)

(bottom, looking up)

having made it to the bottom of the hill, we made our way to the macba to see what seemed too good to be true. huge retrospectives of both ray johnson and john cage! it was all there. first ray johnson.

so incredible to see his stuff in real life. beautiful, funny, thought provoking and ultimately encouraging and extemely inspiring. they had an over-abundant treasure trove of the man's work, i unfortunately got caught snapping photos early.
next, john cage.

(sheet music for the prepared piano)

(jordan enjoying the prepared piano pieces)

the way the museum chose to present his work was brilliant. sheet music, with head phones nearby to hear those sheets played. i loved the section on the prepared piano. it was interesting to note how intensely cage detailed his compositions/notes for the orchestras that performed his pieces. he intensely detailed them, but left room for the individual interpretations of those players reading his notes. cage seemed to us the musical equivalent of sol lewitt. it was beautiful to see an elementary teacher explaining the fine points of cage's 4'33" or people JAMMING to some prepared piano pieces. both exhibitions warranted way more time than we gave them. my heart almost burst from joy (johnson) and thankfulness (to cage), but we had to meet up with jordan and sarah's couchsurfing hosts outside he museum (yes, they managed to break through the stone-wall). we walked about the gothic district (it was a nightly tradition), and made our way to the catedral, where a huge dance was taking place. upon further inspection (and explanation from jordan and sarah's gracious hosts), we found out that this dance (the sardana) is specific to catalonia and celebrates catalan heritage. it was beautiful and quite the capstone to our time in barcelona.

so many little steps...
we left the bentleys with their hosts and made our way back up la rambla to our hostel to catch a little sleep before hopping onto another continent.
(for this post i borrowed a select few pictures from the bentleys blog (as you might be able to tell if you check out the posted link), as well as sequencing. i thank them both profusely for their diligent bloggage. it has helped in remembering this all, about a month later).

A Little More London Time

2009-12-19T10:39:00.001-08:00

We arrived back in London just in time to catch Sir N. Warkentin passing through on business.

(tuff plaidz)

And Sir W. had the good fortune of arriving just in time join us and Lindsey in being served an amazing vegan feast, courtesy of our New Zealander and Québécois friends.

Warm hearted and full bellied, we went back to Rose's with our very own jar of authentic Marmite.
(thank you guys! youre the best).

The following day, our perfect timing continued to tic, and we met up with Sir Su and Lady Jessica.

(friends! so many friends!)

Jessica was in town from Switzerland to check out some graduate schools.
We hope she finds the perfect fit.

Mid Land

2009-12-18T13:55:00.000-08:00

when i first ventured across the pond some three years ago, my mom alterted me to the fact that in the middle of england there resides very distant relatives of ours and that i should try and contact them. contact them i did, and the time spent with them (called sue and arthur from here on out) back then was incredible. adding in the years and correspondence between then and now, they have become less distant and more like family in the truest sense.

the day after our night with the temptsters, we boarded yet another bus (buses being the cheapest transports around for those whose planning doesnt reach beyond a few days), this time to the middle of england to see the relatives. the bus ride and wait thereafter saw the most heavy and prolonged rain storm we bore witness to while in england. somehow, they found us amidst this storm, the secretly re-located bus stop (truly, it had moved so recently that there were no signs pointing drivers to it, anywhere along the inbound routes to it) and bad senses of direction all around. the lovatts (s & a) have purchased a newer/fancier VW camper van since the last time i saw them and they treated us to picnic of sorts in it while we waited out the traffic that stalled them for a good few hours on the way down to pick us up. eventually we made the way up to nuneaton, the town of residence of said lovatts. the first day in nuneaton, we travelled to the warwick castle and learned all about warwickshire, the war of the roses, the torture techniques of medieval times, how to trap eels, medieval machinery.

(castle, sue & arthur and melissa. i lovatt!)

(busted!)

(arthur flanked by st. george's cross)

(shootin the townspeople)

(huggy)

(kill!)

we then drove to conventry to see the ruins and renewal of their cathedral.
the next day held the black country living museum. one of the best museums we went to, hands down. the black country is in the midlands, but the exact boundaries are quite loose. it served as the industrial (specifically mining) headquarters of england for many years. coal mining, steel mills and iron foundaries grew in size and prominence as the years went by, thus producing an atmosphere blackened with that mining and milling and refining and a landscape gouged, stripped and devoid of any of the natural beauty of the midlands that we were able see while taking in that history. the living museum is comprised of buildings from the golden (or greyish-black) era of the black country mining times, tore down and rebuilt brick by brick on a few acres in what used to be a train yard.
(coal mines)

(candy presses)

there was also a boat ride through the old limestone tunnels.

(warp speed)

(opening, then more tunnels)

(legging the crap out of those tunnels)

(the stranger ive locked necks with was probably bummed on my odour)

(slade is from the black country)

along with the eden project, this museum served to impress the importance and beauty of preservation, reclamation and history while also reminding us of the ugliness of history and the cost industrialization can incur on landscape, people and communities. after the lessons of the black country, we picniced in the camper van until we got kicked out of the parking lot and then we retired for a lovely vegetarian feast.

(so long, farewell)

another bus to victoria station and we had just over forty eight hours in London before boarding a plane to the continent.

lucky london

2009-12-08T22:34:00.000-08:00

we returned from the idyllic environs of the far west to the cold/rainy/grey and yet still homey environs of london for a few days. on the first night of our return, we incited a fight. we got dropped off at victoria station (central london) and had to board another bus to leo's (south london) to pick up our things which we then transported to the lovely far west side apartment of prem and danny (prem is a dear friend, that melissa made while in japan and danny is her beau. danny is also the first person i have ever met from perth, australia. lovelies, both. yes indeed. so incredibly generous).

(ten second timer!)

the long bus ride from victoria to leo's was made even longer because of traffic and the close confines of an overcrowded bus. at one stop, a mother got on with her pram (stroller) and seemed content to have it in the aisle. the next stop, though, the bus driver got out, walked around and told melissa and i to move our things so that the mother could put her pram and child in the designated (uknown to us then, quite known to us now) pram/handicapped people area that our bulbous satchels were occupying. with nowhere to move, i told the bus driver thus and he proceeded to tell us to exit the bus. having paid for said bus, i told him no and then a man behind me chimed in and stated (quite aggressively) that the bus driver should just get back to work and drive because "we are all tired and just want to get home." this then, put a woman to our left on the defence of the driver (because she is a driver) and soon enough people were cursing and belittling each other all around us, while we diligently constructed a totem pole of sorts with our belongings so that the mother and pram were able to move in safely to the disputed space that we had vacated with our rearrangement. we took to staring out the window as people exhausted their arguments around us and soon enough our bus resumed its course and we eventually made it to ealing (the far west).

london plus leisure time equals museums. this you should expect of us by now and most of the time in london between cornwall and our next destination was spent trolling about them.

(hockney tree)

(twins + twins + melissa)

(lanterns)

(me + box)

(leo, melissa, prem!)

before we left for cornwall, during our stay in cornwall and while we were in london after cornwall we were able to take part in bonfire night(s). along with treating us to many lovely feasts, attending museums with us and regaling us with stories of interest/humour/beauty the whole world over, prem and danny also walked us to perhaps the best night of celebration over the demise of guy fawkes (if only because they played queen during the finale).

this period of time also saw myself (thanks to the generosity of one nate rose) attending a chelsea vs. manchester united football match along with nate's lovely lady lindsey and her friend in town from austin.

(nate and i, PUMPED for the match)

(the beginning)

(the ending, chelsea won)

our lucky streak continued with the arrival/tavel overlap of the tempster and the tempsteress, who were passing through london on their way to the art world of northern mainland europe. they graciously treated us to a vegan feast and we in turn kept them up so as to keep them on schedule to outsmart jetlag. amazingly inspirational and insightful people.

(edward explains his recent finger explosion and subsequent healing)

(more ten second timing!)

(baby, its getting cold outside)

Three Notes

2009-12-07T19:58:00.000-08:00

on a happy note, today marks the birthday of tom waits. on a sad (very sad) note, i recently learned that pelt guitarist/solo acoustic/old timey raga extraordinaire has passed away today. he was only 38. last year, i got to see him in chicago and it was a very soothing/engaging expeience, indeed.

and one more note to remind you, go here.

The West

2009-12-04T15:36:00.000-08:00

breaking through the outer membrane of the city via bus once again, we were eventually placed back into london for a few days surrounding halloween. ushering in november, with the days getting shorter and shorter, we browsed even more museums (national portrait gallery. what a hefty endeavor. among other things, in that gallery is housed an incredible history of this little island, via portraits of its kings/queens/important religous people and its all for free. why is this so novel?..), but the most prominent memory from this point in time comes in the form of a film. on halloween, melissa and i watched a pirated version of lars von triers new work on a laptop screen. it left melissa speechless for a good ten to fifteen minutes afterword...misogynist? egoist? a whole slew of bad words? genius? im not sure what to think anymore. i just want to watch breaking the waves again...thanks to missing ireland (as has been said), we made our way to brighton. because of brighton, we were then lead to the far, indeed, the very end of the south west of england. cornwall is a magical land of palm trees and moderate climate...in england. the bus ride out was quite grueling and left us in penzance a good ten minutes too late to catch the bus out to st. just, where our couchsurfing host resides. due to the fact that cornwall serves mainly as a summer time attraction, visiting at the beginning of november does not bode well for trying to navigate the peninsula via public transport. waiting a good two hours for the next bus, we found some curry (which i proceeded to partially spill onto my crotch) and sat by the ocean. we found our way to st. just and settled in nicely.
(curry crotch and achy bus sleep)

the next day held exploring lands end minus the tourists (due to the gale force winds and rain, that eventually gave way to epic clouds and little snippets/blessings of sunshine among the sheer cliffs and craggy outcroppings).

(crush you! little house)

riding buses among the extremely tiny lanes of this extremity of england (it was incredible watching the double decker buses navigate within inches of buildings/other cars, continuing unscathed), making our way down the coast to the glorious confines of the minack theatre.

(Rowena Cade, the BA creator of the minack)

enjoying the end of the island to its fullest, we soon found our way a bit east to falmouth, into the home of more loving couchsurfing friends. welcoming us with open arms, our hosts (ingo and sharmilla) also presented us with a large home made indian feast the first night (along with various meads and ciders of the land, also sharing delicousness the rest of the time spent with them, morning and night). they also shared (seemingly) bottomless kindness and knowledge of their adopted portion of england with us.
(melissa, myself, blade of bourboun, sharmilla holding ingo).

the day(s. i hesitate calling it days because time wise it wasnt much more than one, maybe one and a half, but emotion/knowledge/amazing-wise, the time spent in falmouth could have been weeks. months even) we spent held the eden project and st. just and at least one pasty a day. actually, the whole time in cornwall, we consumed one of these tasties a day (and most places had vegan ones too!)
(tasty pasty)

(eden project!)

(me learning about the central valley. poor immigrant labour!)

having a good month or so between then and now, it seems that cornwall has had the most impact on us both. not really sure what to attribute that to, just the overall experience of the environment and people and history of this small jetty into the atlantic ocean has rooted itself deeply into our memories as an amazing/inspirational/beautiful/extremely positive place. thanks to missing out on ireland we've now covered the south and far west of england. stay tuned to see where else this lead us...

2009-12-02T16:52:00.000-08:00

we have returned stateside safely. blogging took a back seat for awhile there, but should take on a prominent role soonish. the cross atlantic/states dithers are settin in, time for burritos and sleep. in the meantime, go here and purchase everything you can. it will be well worth it, you can trust us on this.