Archive for August, 2010

Meat space mail call

Posted in Art Projects, Culture, Spenard with tags , , , on August 22, 2010 by A.

Did you notice that the weather got nicer. That’s because I had to go back to work! Back to The Box with no windows. The Weather Gods hate me. Notice that hint of Fall in the air? Long stem flowers toping out. And on the ground, tons of mushrooms. Some you can even eat. And some you should not even go near.

I did something artful every day on this stay-cation. Ether at Sheila’s or here at El Rancho. On my last day off, despite the lovely weather I stayed home to paint on my brains. 

Natural light, in shorter and shorter supply, was too great to waste.

One of my goals for the stay-cation was ‘No days without art’.  My other goal was to have no zero days on the blog stats. And we did it! Well you guys did it, coming by to check out the latest at Life in Spenard.

For this you have my most sincere thanks. You All Rock!

Bukowski B-Day.

I used to have a widget on a home page called ‘Today’s reason to drink.’
It died on me a while ago. I guess the guy couldn’t think of any more reasons, and just drank. Last Monday was the birthday of a great drinker and poet, Charles Bukowski. He lasted a lot longer than any one, even him, ever thought he would.  Pickled to perfection he died at age 73 in 1994.

I thought about posting one of his poems, but went for some thing of my own.


Ready to recycle if any one cares to pick it up.
This corpse of a can.

It scurried to the curb. Just beating the changing traffic lights
green, yellow, red.
From the right turn lane,
the wind of just after morning rush hour cars
spinning it parallel to road, up and over the rolly ruts,
picking up speed on the downhill side.
Lite wrapped around it’s blue body.

I watched a beer can cross Spenard Rd.


Meanwhile, back at the ranch.

Posted in Culture, El Rancho, Spenard, The Earth with tags , , , , , , , on August 15, 2010 by A.

Houston, we have a situation.

El Rancho has been audibly cracking for the last week with the mass rain. And there is water seeping out from the kitchen cabinet right next to the stove. It’s coming down from the main wall. I looked in the cabinet with my flashlight, dry. Shit. I guess something got tweaked around in there. If I put my ear to my bedroom wall I can hear the drip.

The Rancho rests on peat bog, logs (no shit, two big ones running the length of both sides of the house) and crumbling cinder blocks. So sensitive to ground changes that sometimes I don’t know if the shaking I feel is the start of an earthquake or a passing truck. The front door sits differently in it’s frame, from summer to winter.

The plumbers have been called. For now I have a towel on the floor. It makes squishing sounds when I step on it. I always feel bad when something goes butt up around here. $$$$ Damn. I know it won’t make me homeless tonight, and someday I have to leave. But I’m not leaving Spenard.

I got all hopeful for a                    second or two.

Did you see the headline in the ADN? “Pebble critics take up arms” “Wow,” I thought “about fucking time.” Oh wait, more pieces of paper waving in the air. More ‘studies’ and ‘hearings’ The only part that made sense was the comment that the fishermen of Dillingham were going to have to teach their children how to fight this deathless beast.

Children of Dillingham, resistance need not be passive. And beware of all outside groups. Like why are those Greenpeace people now working for an oil company?
Because the Color of Money is Green.

Back to Work.
Summer and my Stay-cation is almost over. Back to The Box. I stopped in after coffee today it see if I still have a job. Talked to my co-auditor, she’s worked eight days in a row cus of me. Harsh! I didn’t mean for that to happen. I should do some Sunday shifts for her.

************Situational Update**************

Whew! It wasn’t all that bad. Jimmy the Plumber came over, opened the door of the water heater space. Clicked on his flash light and did a scan. “Your relief valve is leaking, easily fixed.”  Yay! Both Johanna and I had visions of sawing though the bedroom wall. I went for coffee and he was done when I came home. The hardest part was Johanna yelling my name from outside my window. Moan, it’s 8:30 am. When I got home, I lasted about an hour and went back to bed.

The Party Pictrues

Posted in Culture, Spenard, The Hood with tags , , , , , on August 9, 2010 by A.

Neighborhoods on Ply.

Posted in Art Projects, Culture, The Hood with tags , , , on August 5, 2010 by A.

Before the Rains of Today.

Posted in Art Projects, Culture, The Hood with tags , , on August 4, 2010 by A.

Wow, there’s lots more. but I’m putting on the heavy rain gear  and going back over to Sheila’s. We are not done yet. If you have some time to help Thrus-Fri get a hold of Sheila or me.

Art on a Deadline.

Posted in Art Projects with tags , on August 1, 2010 by A.