Argentina Part 2

I didn't take many pictures during the second part of the trip....
and for the first time in a very long time, I didn't paint-- at all (some people call that a vacation....)


You can't see them but there are Condors in those cliffs.... right next to that crack in the rock...near the white spot....



A fearless helicopter bird*




We had him eating out of our hands....
Afterwards there was a beautiful hike down... in the dark... under an incredible star filled sky....past rabid man-eating killer cows and possibly a vampire or two (maybe a few werewolves too). The car mysteriously moved farther and farther away but we made it through. Still it was one of my favorite hikes.



View from Los Gigantes



* don't know the actual name but it sounds like a helicopter when it goes whizzing past your head...

Punta Alta

Yes--- I'm breaking the silence.

I just got back from a few weeks in Argentina ( I lucked out and got to go again!) . I spent the first half with my friend Ken Colorado who invited me down to help him out on a sculpture project. We spent a few days in Buenos Aires where he introduced me to Andrea Juan who shares Ken's goal of bringing attention to climate change through art. Afterwards, Ken and I went to Punta Alta to work on the ice core sculptures with Uretec.


An ice core sculpture with text from Lynne Cox. Lynne is an amazing woman who among many many incredible feats swam in the waters of Antarctica for 30 minutes without a wetsuit.... normal people die after 10 - 15 minutes in water that cold.
(If you click the photo it gets larger & you might be able to read some of the text).



Ken and Roberto discussing the project. Roberto is the owner of Uretec and a wonderful person.... even if he doesn't like the way I make coffee ;0)










More ice core sculptures, these have writings of Russian & Argentinean scientists.

Vamos a Carlos Paz

This is Paz. She's 2. Paz has a great sense of humor:


On the way back from La Cumbrecita, a beautiful little German town outside of Carlos Paz (where we stayed for our first week in Argentina), Paz (one of the cutest, sweetest, most adorable, little kids Ive ever had the pleasure of spending hours in the car with) asked someone in the car (I honestly don't remember who, it seemed such an innocent question at the time) A donde vamos? Someone answered: Carlos Paz. I'm guessing Paz liked that answer because for the next 45 minutes, like a broken record in the back of the car we heard....

-Vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, -(Brian, at least, had his headphones and an ipod.)- vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, -(why why why did I leave mine at the house????)- vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz... vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz, vamos a Carlos Paz.

I did what any mature adult would do: I laughed at her and occasionally asked A donde vamos? Which Im positively sure did absolutely nothing to encourage her.

Eventually, she fell asleep, woke up briefly and picked right back up again and then finally passed out completely until we got home.

She did the same thing on the way to Cordoba and again on the way back into Bariloche after our boat trip (she is a very smart girl so clearly, she knows to say Vamos a Cordaba and Vamos a Bariloche) but she fell asleep sooner so it didn't have the same impact.

Natalia swears that she only did this when I was in the car. But as everyone knows-- Natalia is a compulsive liar so its not wise to take her word on that.

All the same, just to be safe, its probably not a good idea to put me in the back seat with your 2 year old.

Bariloche Paintings

Hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays...


Here are a few oils I did while in Bariloche. The first two were at a spot Guille took us to for a picnic. The third one was a day or two later. I took the car and found a great little spot in an area we hadn't been to yet. I hiked up a trail and found a rock overlooking the lake. It was a fabulous spot until the wind picked up. That's when I realized picking a painting spot is a bit like picking a spot to pitch your tent: an exposed rock with no windbreak isn't the brightest idea in the world. The wind did add an extra challenge to the painting process: I had to hold on to my paint box to keep it from blowing away. The good thing was that it kept me from spending too long on the painting. Im still picking out tiny rocks and dirt from the thicker parts of the painting.

From the beach:


Maddie, Kelly, Morgan & Stu:


View from a rock:

Bariloche

We spent about a week in Bariloche with Guille, Sofi and Paz. Sofi's parents let us stay in their apartment there. Bariloche is a ski/ resort town in southern Argentina. The apartment window looks out over the lake, two of the sketches I did from the kitchen table. Guille took us to the other side of the lake to a gorgeous campsite. Natalia, Sofi and Guille actually met there on a camping trip way back when (high school, I think). I stayed back on the beach to sketch while most everyone else hiked up to see the waterfalls. Later in the week we went on a boat tour of the lake and did some fishing but I didn't paint that day (kinda hard on a boat....).


From the kitchen window:




Down the street:



On the other side of the lake:

Missed a good article in the LA times...

Christopher Knight wrote an article a few weeks ago in the LA Times about the "death" of painting and the LA art scene:

Link: "Painting gets a broader brush"


Amen, brother!

Sketches...

Argentina part 1

OK, so as usual, Argentina is fantastic. The first week we spent in Cordoba, mostly meeting Natys friends and hanging out. Then there was the wedding. Very different from weddings in the US. We left "early" at 5:30AM. We are in Buenos Aires now, until tomorrow, and then on to Bariloche.

So some highlights--

Food! We´ve had many Asados which is basically a lot of meat. Its true that the meat we eat in the u.s. does not compare.

Painting: not much to say there. I didnt want to paint the first few days because we had so many plans. then my back went out. That was pretty bad. good news is i spent several days by the pool, had several massages and even got to experience a chiropractor here (miracle worker). So alls well now but there were a few days that didnt go as planned....

more later ´cause im late but Im having an incredibly good time!

Life is Good...

I can't understand where November went. A friend mentioned that my blog hasn't been updated lately. I just now realized the last entry was 3 weeks ago. How does that happen? I tend to blog more when Im on the road which makes no sense on one level (much easier at home where a computer is readily available) but all the sense in the world from another: my daily life isnt that exciting. Wake up, drink coffee, sit on couch and look at painting, think think think, realize painting wont paint itself- get off butt, paint paint paint... wonder what that grumbling noise is... realize coffee isnt really breakfast (yes, Its a daily epiphany) eat lunch 'cause its already past 2 (what?!?).... sit on couch, stare at painting.... glare at painting if I dont like it.....think think think.....paint paint paint..... sleep. You can copy/paste that in for the first half of the month. The second half of the month there was more thinking than painting (and many other finely honed procrastination techniques). My attention span evaporated. I blame it on the holidays and the fact that I'm leaving tomorrow for Argentina. Something Ive been very very excited about.

Oh wait--- I did take a mini road trip to Utah. I passed through Nevada and came to the firm conclusion that I really don't like it. I admit I don't know the state well. The little time I've spent in Nevada has been in Las Vegas. I can handle Vegas in small doses (maybe once a year... maybe.. but not for more than 24 hours and I have to be in exactly the right mood). I had always assumed that outside of Vegas, Nevada must be very nice so I was looking forward to finding a more interesting part of the state. It actually got worse. It made Vegas looks like Disneyland. Something about that place makes my skin crawl. I got really creeped out (this from the girl who has no problem sleeping in her car on a deserted road) and decided to keep driving rather than get a hotel room (yeah... wouldn't even sleep in a hotel there). It possibly had something to do with the really creepy couple who pulled their car next to mine in a parking lot a few hours outside of Vegas. They started yelling for my attention-- both my windows and their windows were closed...(which makes me wonder... why didn't they at least open theirs?). So I pretended not to notice and left.

Anyway, I was very excited to see the Arizona state line. I ended up in Zion NP in Utah and painted there. Zion is gorgeous. As an added bonus, you don't have that creepy feeling that you are being watched by everyone and that one of them is going to chop you up into little pieces and feed you to their genetically enhanced goldfish. Maybe I'm just more comfortable around slightly buzzed rock climbers who haven't showered in a day or two because they're camping, as opposed to really drunk bulgy eyed gamblers who haven't showered in weeks because...uh... they couldn't leave the table? Sorry if you're from NV--- no offense intended.... maybe the northern part of the state is nicer? Maybe I passed through on an off day? I'm sure the rest of the state is beautiful.

So.... Argentina. Tomorrow. I'll be traveling which means I will blog more than once a month. Stay tuned. Be good while Im away.

Home Sweet Home

Got a little bit of mail while I was gone....

homeward bound

headed to bend today...taking the long way there!

A few shameless plugs

1- Last Tuesday I went and saw my friend Joe McMurrian and his band play some mighty fine blues at the White Eagle here in Portland. I managed to make it through the night this time without losing my car. Joe and his band are outstanding especially live. If you are anywhere near Portland, you have a pulse, and a penchant for good Blues, you must go see them play (they're there every Tuesday). If you can't see them live, you can get their CD through his website: JoeMcMurrian.com


2- My friend Mike partnered with Digital Steamworks and Kevin Kallaugher (aka KAL, the Economist’s editorial cartoonist) on a tech demo: Dancing Dubya (on YouTube)

Falling out here, Boss...

The other day I took Oxford (Ken’s dog) for a walk down the street that runs on the back side of the studio. I had been completely engrossed in a painting so I was in that state of mind where I’m hyper aware of anything painting related but oblivious to all else. I may notice things but if they aren’t related to the painting, it just doesn’t click.

Because I’m working on the trucker series, I immediately noticed the way the roads intersected across the field bordering the complex; that the afternoon light would be hitting it soon and that there were a lot of trucks moving along the road and onto the I-84 onramp. With my zoom lens I’d be able to get some good shots. The sun was behind me, so I kept turning around to see where it hit the trees and figuring how long before it was likely to make the trucks coming down the road look extra cool. I noticed, but immediately dismissed, the large parking lot on the opposite side of the road, the remaining warehouse buildings… and the group of guys (all dressed in orange shirts) sitting in the shade of the building clearly waiting for something.

I let Oxford run around in the field for a while and then went back to the studio for my camera. I’m getting great shots of trucks coming on and off the freeway with the field in between. I’m still looking behind me to see where the sun is hitting and where its likely to go. The guys in the orange shirts are now watching my every move. It vaguely occurs to me that they might be thinking I keep looking in that direction because I’m looking at them but I’m so focused on the trucks that the thought barely makes a blip.



A truck pulls into that parking lot and the guys jump up and start loading. The light is now that perfect golden light just before sunset. The driver’s got one of those Australian leather cowboyish hats and its too much for me to resist so I start taking photos of them. The guys notice and really start hamming it up. I think, wow, these guys don’t’ get out much….



I’m far away but my lens is really good so I’m zooming in and getting some great shots. The security guard (or so I thought) starts walking over to me. As he gets closer, I realize it’s a sheriff. This doesn’t particularly surprise or alarm me because in LA with the movie industry and all, its fairly common for a cop to be around big trucks as they’re loaded up with props and such. He starts chatting with me and makes a joke about my disruptive presence. I ask if its ok that I’m taking photos, and he says the guys don’t seem to mind. We chit chat as I’m snapping away, the guys are still loading but clowning around for the camera. I’m zoomed in but looking at composition, the light, etc but ignoring small details. Like what is printed on their shirts and caps. I zoom in even closer and FINALLY it registers: printed on each and every one of their shirts: Marion County Sheriff’s Inmate Work Crew.

I’m nothing if not observant… and I was right, they don’t get out much.

one more...

Truckers and Truckstops

Troutdale is a heavily used truck stop. There are trucks and truckers everywhere. Seemed a no- brainer to do a series. I used to wait tables in college at a diner frequented by truckers. From that experience I knew that while they can be gruff sometimes (I know I would be cranky after 14 days of driving), they are typically good people; they’ve got plenty of hilarious stories and more importantly (at that time at least) across the board they were the best tippers. All things being equal, I’d pick the trucker tables over the business lunch crowd any day. Regardless, the idea of hanging out at a truck stop talking truckers into letting me take a photo to do a painting off of was a little intimidating. Actually, to be honest, the idea scared the hell out of me.

I talked to my friend Cliff who tried to help me analyze exactly what I was afraid of. When that didn’t work, he resorted to calling me a chicken and all sorts of other juvenile names. I’m ashamed to admit that’s what worked. I’ve spent the last few mornings at the truck stop catching the truckers after they filled up and were going inside to pay or grab a Coke.

Some I only talk to for a few minutes, others I talked to for up to 45 minutes. I met truckers from all over the U.S. and even ones from Rio, London, and India. Richard Montgomery (“Like Montgomery, Alabama… but I’m from OMAHA!”) just turned 50 but maybe looks 40. We talked about everything from Paris Hilton to Condoleeza Rice, of course that led to Iraq, then Syria…somehow ended up talking about Orwell’s “1984”, the collapse of the bridge in Minneapolis…he did a hilarious impression of an American talking to an Iraqi (he wants to be a comedian some day). My guess is this guy spends most of his time driving listening to news and talk shows. He’s very well informed and a lot smarter than he thinks. The one and only female driver I saw was from Wisconsin and was very excited about getting her photo taken for a painting. Tarry’s been driving for 11 years and LOVES her job. She’s an evangelist spreading the Word and she’s got more energy than she seems to know what to do with. A very funny lady. There were many many good stories. This is going to be a fun series.

Here are a few pieces in various states of finish. The woman by the way is an attendant at the station, not Tarry.

Scandolous Small Town Behavior

Ken and Mary made it back into town yesterday. Their home away from home is a Holiday Inn up the street. The same place I do my drive by blogging/email postings from. I swing into the parking lot and take advantage of the fact that wi fi doesnt magically stop at their walls. The other day though, I needed power and more importantly, I hadnt had my coffee yet. Ken had introduced me to several staff members before he left in case I needed anything.I went into the lobby and figured I should say hi to the manager, let her know what I was up to. Mind you I had met her before. Ken had even told her who I was, what I'm doing here, and we had chatted a bit. She seemed pretty friendly at the time.

I realize a lot of people come through there, so I wasn't horribly surprised when my greeting was met with a blank stare. I tried again by reminding her I was Ken's friend. Her eyes narrowed and she gave me the evil eye. This wasn't going as well as I'd hoped. I just wasn't exactly sure why. Did she think I was going to steal a cinnamon roll? Maybe she'd seen me in the parking lot and didn't appreciate that. She finally spoke: "You're not Mary."

Uh-oh. Not at all what I thought it was.

Mary thought it was pretty hilarious.

Death of an Ipod.

July 27th was a very sad day. After valiant attempts to resuscitate, my ipod was officially pronounced dead by the Genius at the Bridgeport Apple Store just outside of Portland.

My ipod is dead. No more music.

It’d been acting strange for a while. Occasionally it would get confused. The symptoms were there-- started to tire easily; scrolling through the music list would leave fragments of text on screen -- I just hoped it would hold out a little longer.

I’m on a road trip and my ipod is dead. This is catastrophic.

The Apple Genius felt my pain. I gained full sympathy when he learned my plight : on a road trip and far far away from my back up disk. He really tried everything to bring it back; or at least save the music. Several geniuses tried to help, talking to each other under their breath like I wasn’t supposed to hear. They kinda rallied as each learned the horror of my situation. A road trip without music?! Get Josh over here…It was a valiant effort. I think I saw a little tear in his eye when the guy called the official time of death: 6:12pm.

Sure, I can replace it, but we had such good times. Flying up the coast of California listening to godawful one hit wonders from the 70’s (and knowing every word)…. Easing into my first day in Oregon with Dustin O’Halloran and later rocking out with the Frames. Neil Young seemed an appropriate soundtrack for Mt. Hood. This is just too sad.

I really tried though. For God’s sake, I spent an entire day at a MALL trying to save it. I didn’t even paint. I went to two malls in fact (The Genius bar was booked at the first one….) Those who know me well understand what pure dedication that was. It takes a lot to get me near a mall.

more paintings

Mt Hood



Sandy River






I 84 Overpass

7.26

A bad photo of a not half bad little painting (6x8):



Wrong lens on the camera; I'll try to post a better one later.

Don't Panic (or the longest run on sentence ever...)

If you ever go see your friend’s band play at a bar and (hypothetically of course), lets say you park your car in another restaurant’s parking lot, and suppose you (as smart as you are) miss the significance of a big iron gate that obviously shuts across the drive way, and you read the sign that says “customer parking only” but youre late and it’s a one way street and you’re not really sure where you are so you don’t want to have to drive around the block if you miss the bar and you’re thinking “Gosh that parking lot is SO well lit I can even read the sign that says ‘cars left over night will be towed’ ….Gee, I sure will feel safe coming back to my car in such a well lit parking lot!” then you go see your friend’s band play and my, oh my—they play rocking good blues well into the wee hours of the morning and afterwards you go waltzing back towards your car thinking gee that was fun… until you’re stopped dead in your tracks as you realize what exactly is wrong with this picture: the restaurant closes before the bar (the locked gate between you and your car being the clincher)…. its really best not to panic. Its best to go back to the bar, take heed of the bartender’s advice and leave a message on the restaurant’s answering machine telling them what a lovely time you had at their fine establishment. So good, in fact, that you lost track of just how many beers you had and took a cab home. That way, when the owner/ manager comes in the next morning and sees a car with (Gasp!!) California plates on it, and goes to the phone to call the tow truck, he/she will notice the blinking light (hopefully), and will listen to the message (preferably before calling the tow) and will (hopefully) have pity on the drunk but responsible customer. Much better odds than him/her having pity on the completely sober but idiotic person who thinks they can park anywhere. That way its only a 20 mile cab ride home (yeah, suck it up....), not a cab ride home plus get your car out of the impound. Just a suggestion. I wouldn’t know but it sounds like it could work.