Johnny Carl and I met in college, but we haven’t seen each other since 2005. Time and distance hold no power over us. Last night we spent a few hours catching up from the past 4 years, like you do in a few hours, and today we’re doing all the touristy things like going up the Space Needle.
You can see Johnny’s work at The DuckDuck Collective, and if anything check out his videos. The Americana series of photographs is fantastic as well. Everything he touches turns to gold. Makes me want to punch him, but then hug him because we’re friends.
Here are a few photos I took last night.
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Friday, you can’t come soon enough.
or
Therapy
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Seduced into a whisper of beckoning come forth all that lay at my feet behold. Hold, hold, hold. Inner and outer truths engage in a reality that leaves any muse prostrate: reckless, abandon, surrender. Listen, please, listen. Stop talking and receive. Move with me and know that words are sometimes violently insufficient—clatter, just clatter—even in their most luxurious form. Abound in silences. Do not be afraid. You will not be lost. Rather, your name will be called and if you hear it: will you respond in the kindness of breath, of kiss? Or lusts will you for sabotage.
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Jen Grabarczyk is an artist and a graduate of Mars Hill Graduate School. She lives in Seattle.
100 Words are shorts that I’ve asked my friends to write on various subjects. They are intended to be small windows into how they view the world and experience reality. The only instructions they are given are a.) choose a subject on which to write and b.) the short must be exactly 100 words. How they interpret the subject and the form in which the 100 words are produced is up to them.
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Day 1 of shooting was great overall, and exhausting. We shot 9 plates yesterday over the course of 13 hours. Today we’re shooting 10 plates but it’s gone much more quickly.
I’m not allowed to show the dishes we’ve been shooting, but I’m excited to post them when permission is granted, which probably won’t be until the book is published. C’est la vie. I’ve eaten so much good food today that even the most appetizing dishes are starting to look all the same, and my stomach can’t take any more at this point. Wah wah. I know.
One more full day tomorrow, then back home to Seattle.
Here is a photo of Pax, who has been incredibly patient in the midst of the chaos, and who can also pull off rain boots like no one else I know.
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Kierstin hard at work.
Playlist we’ve been listening to during day 1 includes Paper Route, Magnet, Tom Waits, Jon Foreman, M83, Max Richter, and Patty Griffin. Stumptown Coffee has been flowing.
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Soup!
So far so good so tired.
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Awake at 7 am. Here are some prep shots from my phone for the cookbook. Dishes we’re using are from Elsa+Sam here in Portland, Kitchen Kaboodle, Pier 1, and IKEA.
And the donuts from VooDoo are for our own sanity.
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Janine Antoni, a contemporary artist, on tightrope walking:
“I practiced tightroping for about an hour a day, and after about a week I started to feel like I’m now getting my balance. I started to notice that it wasn’t that I was getting more balanced, but that I was getting more comfortable with being out of balance.”
Damn.
Those words have been running through my head for over a week, and they make so much sense to me right now. Striving for balance in life is exhausting, and obtaining true balance is impossible. Tightrope walkers don’t deceive themselves by trying to walk across the rope as if it were a sidewalk. They see and admit the reality of the rope. They wobble, shake, come close to falling constantly, but somehow maintain balance in the imbalance.
Self-deception around the realities of life lead me to walk as if I’m always on a paved street, but more often than not I am on the rope as opposed to the road.
And the truth is, the rope is ok. The rope is strong, yet it bends and flexes with each step. I have never known life to have solid foundations. What I’ve known is the rope. I think there is a connection between living fully and learning to be balanced in the imbalance.
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