Bright winter days, a working space,
darker winter days
…and so forth.
Spotted this historic Nomad on First, the history being the guy had trailered it over from Fallon [which he characterized as the “middle of nowhere” though I’d say it’s more on the edge of it]
awhile back with various issues [not running, for a start] which seem to have since been
resolved. …also on E a Study in Orange and the ’45 unsuccessfully visiting the auto parts store
seeking tail light lenses. Sunday started sunny with weird subsequent clouds; we spent a lot
of time on our way to Dogpatch* waiting to get on the bridge behind this grotesque bit of Ugly
for a memorial at the Minnesota Street Project honoring the remarkable and much-loved Stephen Goldstine organized by his daughter Simone
who many years before had given me this charming drawing…Many moving memories,
considerably consistent, were expressed, kicked off by the Coyote-man’s stories and blessings.
Later there were sandwiches and then it was back out under the clouds. Monday was foggy
which dispersed by mid morning as I passed, with several fruitless stops looking for that tail light lens, through Vallejo on my way to the last surviving junkyards in American canyon,
way out at the end of Green Island Road, though to no avail as the Afghans at Eco had only one unacceptably scratchy example of the parking light assembly I needed for the Tundra and Brian next door of course still has no ’45 Chevy tailgates.
Back in Benicia however my friend Ann Miller’s renders of Ignore Alien Orders as stickers in
Dalecarlian runes had arrived to our considerable delight after which we took advantage of the
unseasonably warm[ish] January night to dine, safe from the cacophony within, happily outside at Lucca, all the happier with the substitution of their jalapeno poppers in lieu of the fries.
*Like much else an area very much changed from the earliest eighties when Out at Third, a nominally cooperative venue downstairs from my studio, was most likely the first art galley out there.
For years I had my hair cut at a salon on Indiana between 23rd and 24th. When I started in 2001 or so, it was sketchy, with the work/live lofts where the salon was the newest building. It was somewhat of a shock after not coming for a few years, I came back in 2018 and the area was transformed!…and branded “Dogpatch”. Cannot believe how clear that first image was and also loved the misty poles and Ann’s runes.
It was certainly called Dogpatch when I lived there in the early eighties; had been since at least the end of the war [ah, but which war?]. But it’s certainly transformed…and the old neighborhood name turned into a “brand”. Parking’s even more of a nightmare now [fortunately back then Dave owned a vacant lot off Tennessee next to the Hell’s Angels where we could park in total security].
I’m shocked – shocked, I tell you – that you think the Tesla is ugly.
I guess I’ve just been spending too much time out in the junkyards…even the Afghanis at Eco are parting out a lot of, um, Teslas.