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September 30, 2006

PDX and The Weepies

I flew into Portland on Wednesday. I wan't picked up in the usual way, instead Katie and I took the Max line into town. I am taken with public transportation in this city. I had always seen public transportation as the poor-man's ride, but here in Portland the buses aren't always being ridden out of financial necessity (in fact, it isn't exactly cheap), but by choice. Either to eliminate the responsibilities associated with owning and running a car or in order to benefit the environment by "bus-pooling." Plus, with the right planning (bus-stops on every corner and frequent pick-ups) taking the bus is so easy. And fun-- it's a great opportunity for people-watching or just sitting and reading. Sometimes you wish you weren't getting off so soon.

On Thursday we went to the Alberta street fair, also known as Last Thursdays. Last Thursdays is the Indie artist's and crafter's response to First Thursdays which centers more around "Fine Art" of high-end galleries and museums. I'd like to sit somewhere in between. I saw some really good stuff on Alberta st. I bought two small works of drawing/painting/wax encaustic. But I also saw some crappy stuff. But I would hate to think that First Thursdays is somehow snuffing out those who are trying to get noticed on a different level of the Arts. We walked a lot and saw so many cute houses. A part of me really wishes I were in the place to be buying a home. These neighborhoods are so quaint.

Friday morning we took the Max all the way to Washington Park, where we took a walk and enjoyed the view. From the top of the hill we could see Mount St. Helens.

I was so excited to see the leaves turning colors. L.A. just doesn't cut it for me fall-wise. After the walk we went back into the downtown area, where Katie totally read my mind and suggested we get Chipotle. I love that mexican food. I love Portland.

Copyright © 1999, Don Baccus (dhogaza@pacifier.com)

Today I got to see my good friend Lyndsy and her son Tobyn. So good. It's hard making friends in college because everyone moves. I have missed her and it was good to talk to her again. Her son is almost two and I can't understand how the time has passed-- I remember when he "wasn't." We took a long walk and I bought some fun artsy things at a neat shop in the Alphabet district. My shins ache.

Outside of Portland news, I want so badly to recommend (although I am not one for promoting music on a blog) the album "Say I Am You" by The Weepies. I know they have the cheesiest name, but this music is perfect (well, perfect if you are in a quiet, happy, half-smiling, warm-sun-on-your-back kind of mood). I love it.

Posted by libbystokes at 10:14 PM | Comments (0)

September 09, 2006

Ready to go, not ready to leave

For more than a year my sister has been trying to persuade me to move to Portland, Oregon. I smiled and laughed for some months of this nagging, convinced that I must find a gentle way to let her down. But then I gradually started imagining myself there. And Christmas came and I visited her, we drove around downtown and I snuggled up under a down comforter on her livingroom couch. I cooked with her and watched the rain. Portland felt a little like home. With the right people and the right activities and the right landscape.

But I was still invested in school. And I promised myself not to worry about what would happen next until later. And anyway, I already had plans to travel to Africa to visit my mom, and I couldn't really see around such a huge event on my horizon. Why worry about moving?

So I went to Africa and I saw my mom. And I missed my sister. I returned home with a newfound conviction that Portland was somewhere to which I would have to belong one day. And now with my mom making plans to sell her house in Grass Valley and buy one in Portland, my conviction seems even surer.

But there is something I now have to consider that I wouldn't have thought about before...I have become really attatched to Los Angeles. I know, I never would have thought those words would ever cross my lips. It's really more what's here that I love: the people I have met, my friends, my school, and my church. These are my life! And I'm seeing how hard it would be to leave them and start all over. So although I am absolutely ready to go to Portland and have new adventures and learn and explore and be near family, I am just not ready to leave my home.

Who knows, it might only take a few months for me to mentally move out of L.A. It might take longer. We'll see.

In the meantime, I am going to be working and enjoying living here. I will spend time with friends and stay involved at church. I will visit my family in the area and make the most of the L.A.-type opportunities that are here: Art galleries, Museums, Biola professors, and more. Yeah, I'm just not ready to leave.

Posted by libbystokes at 10:21 AM | Comments (1)

September 04, 2006

Sentiments of School

There is something in the air. Something that for the last week has caused me pain and frustration. And I'm not talking about allergies.

I was gone for seven weeks in Africa, and while I was away so many things changed. Trees grew more leaves, the sun changed on the horizon, it got much warmer, and there is a new smell in the air. At first I thought it was just that it smelled like summer, but I had left in July, so it had already been summer. Then I thought maybe it was fall, but it isn't quite late enought to be "fall" yet. Then I realized that it smells like the first day of school.

And the reason this is causing me such pain and frustration? It's not the first day of school for me anymore. It's like a pavlovion response: the feel, the look, and the smell of this season just screams to me, "It's time for another year! Time to go get new art supplies and books and clothes! Time to see friends who have been gone all summer! Time to decorate your bare dorm walls and walk with your roommate to the caf for lunch!" But there is no new dorm room, no reason to buy new clothes, no more flex points and meal plans for the caf. I wake up to daydreams about new gum erasers, huge pads of newsprint, soft new paintbrushes, clean white studio walls, field trips to Ace and the Getty and UCLA, a backpack heavy with fresh notebooks and binders that still smell of new plastic, and much more.

Most people certainly don't feel this way about their school upon graduating, but I do. And I want more than anything to prolong the happiness and learning and experience of going to Biola. Why am I so sentimental?!

Posted by libbystokes at 08:54 AM | Comments (0)