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October 09, 2006

Portland Says Hello

Portland was so good. The city is just so fun and funky and real. Just as I suspected, it is just the perfect combination of nature and activity and art. It attracts the kind of people who's creativity and craft is making it a center for upcoming musicians and crafters. A friend of mine who I have known since the fifth grade has been living in Portland for the last year, making a name for herself as a talented singer/musician. I hadn't seen her in nearly five years, so I met up with her down in the Clinton District at a little place called Savoy. It was so neat just to hear a familiar voice and see what she has been up to in life. Nevada City has produced some very talented people, and I'm glad Portland is now fostering Alela's talent so well.

On Thursday Katie and I took the bus down to the Pearl District for First Thursdays. The quality of art was higher than Last Thursdays, but still very down to earth, fun and inspiring. The Pearl District was made up of buildings used for shipping and receiving, but the warehouses that line the street have since been converted into art galleries and posh little restaurants and gift shops. The community is growing quickly because of the crowd that First Thursdays draws. Because the buildings in this part of the city were mainly old warehouses and factories, the view looking up the street into downtown is full of worn brickwork, rusty reds, and faded graffiti. It's so great.

After First Thursdays, we walked a few blocks to the Crystal Ballroom, where we saw Mat Kearney play. The Crystal Ballroom boasts one of the few (if only) remaining "floating dance floors" in the states. Walking on this floor is an interesting experience, and I've heard that dancing on it is amazing. A guy named Griffin House opened for Mat Kearney, and we were all really surprised by him. He's the type of artist who you hear and then wonder how you had missed him on your radar all this time. Check him out.

I left Portland on friday. It was a very bittersweet farewell. I sat on the Max on the way to the airport, listening to The Weepies, looking out at the city. I was sad to go. I wrote this in the airport:

So sad to go.
The overcast came on the last day like a stopping fog-- don't leave!
My scarf is hugging my neck so warm-- don't leave!
Swirled pastries are handcuffs on my stomach,
Foot traffic pulverized leaves are in my nose and heart-- don't leave!
Art, family, community, Jesus is in this place-- don't leave! Don't Leave!

I'm not much of a poet. But that's where my heart was.

Since I've been back I have just been trying to figure out how to prepare myself for the next step. Do I start phasing myself out of my routine here as a way to get used to not being around friends and family and places? Or do I just soak it all in as much as possible until I leave? The first option sounds kind of lame to me. So I guess I will just make the most of my time here until it comes time to move on.

Posted by libbystokes at October 9, 2006 12:44 PM

Comments

Posted by: Lauren at October 10, 2006 02:01 PM

Posted by: Uncle Jerry at October 27, 2006 08:51 PM