November 5, 2015 Update

  1. Sigurd Stone, Ramsund, Sweden. “As he has tasted dragon blood, he starts to understand the birds’ song.”

    Gary Snyder The Real Work: Interviews & Talks 1964-1979

Excerpt

Grossinger: You were speaking earlier of that signature with the mushroom and the deer.

Snyder: I was simply saying that with the rains, and the snows in the high country, the deer move down, and, as it happened this year, the rains brought the deer down, and brought the deer mushroom out at exactly the same period of time, so that the deer arrived and began to eat the deer mushroom, which was there waiting for them. They smell it under the oak duff, and they kick back the oak leaves, and find it.

From IO, No. 12 (1971), first Earth Geography Booklet 

  1. Excerpting/In Development: Oregon for the Curious by Ralph Friedman

Cross-Coast Range Roads

Woodland Deer Park: They will eat out of your hands, without nibbling or biting your fingers.
It takes one year to train the deer.
The Marble Halls of Oregon, weirdly beautiful caverns.
Indian Mary Park: ahead lies pure wilderness.
This road, short years ago narrow and serpentining, has been broadened and widened.
If you keep your eyes open: a gnarled apple tree on a weathered knoll,
sheep plumped on a hill soothed by the fleece of low clouds
a boy on a pony studying a clothesline of pink and red and yellow and blue garments,
trees bent over a creek
Coquille, a virile logging town
Powers, a homespun logging town

  1. Pope Frances, Encyclical on Climate Change & Inequality: On Care for Our Common Home:

“The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine, for you are strangers and sojourners with me” (Lev. 25:23).

  1. Birds of the Willamette Valley Region:

“Secretive, usually solitary. Forages stealthily…hides motionless with neck extended…Sometimes called ‘thunder-pumper’ for deep, pump-like boonk ahh song produced by gulping, then expelling air from swollen esophagus. Also squawks in alarm.

  1. Raphael Rubinstein: The Basement of the Café Rilke and The Afterglow of Minor Pop Masterpieces

            6. The Ride at the Portland Art Museum

Up Nov 5, 2015 – Feb 21, 2016

(From the PAM website): In 1980, Paige Powell, a fifth-generation Oregonian, left Portland for New York City. After landing at Interview magazine, where she rose to associate publisher, Powell became close with Andy Warhol, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Francesco and Alba Clemente, Tama Janowitz, Stephen Sprouse, and others who would come to define the New York art scene over the next decade. Camera in hand, she moved through the city, forming relationships with people and places that spanned across cultural and economic boundaries, capturing the city’s many realities.

  1. Monetized by Alissa Quart
  1. Substitute teaching at Jesuit High School
  1. Contribution to “Alien She” mega-zine, release party on Dec. 15 at the Pacific Northwest College of Art:

Riot Grrrl’s Influence

The flier on the museum wall was for a show I can’t remember
but says I played. Was I drunk? Probably.
I only ever had to leave a show once for being drunk,
and Amanda, thanks for driving me home that night
when I couldn’t get my guitar in tune or get the drum machine to work
because I couldn’t focus on the knobs, couldn’t control the volume or the speed.
The next day I walked to pick my car up on Tillamook.
I see a picture of Amanda’s beautiful child on Facebook,
she’s a labor organizer and hiked the Appalachian Trail.
Years kern the objects and they transmit as
loopy, choppy, fuzzy, a stolen copy of a stolen copy.
My student writes, “I wish there were something like that now”
and I say turn on HBO or check your personalized iTunes store ha ha.
The ambition was to transfigure, transform
daily things like a room or guitar or dress or book,
how we considered sexism or production or evil in the world.
Grinding meetings discussing The Courage to Heal and Sister Outsider,
the action at hand, rules of the show, basic decorum – especially this,
there was never a consensus, powerless girls feasting on each other.
Once it was just in the mail, stamps controlling
velocity of affect and its timbre. Not the music,
it was never about the music.

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