and we're off!

i received my very first idea via postcard from denmark!  

[thank you carmen for your wonderfully inspiring idea.]

i can't wait to get started on this new project

... and i double can't wait to receive more!

tomorrow promises to be a day of sunshine, and:

cinco de mayo festivities

afternoon barbeque with ribs by chef sandro

beer

badminton

friends (big and little)

movies projected onto barns

AND 

bowling.

i'm coming to really enjoy what happens when the sun comes out in portland.

love illuminated

... this is a photo of my mama and i a few summers ago.  her beauty and radiance is a constant inspiration to me. 

sun setting on a cherry tree

... this is the backyard at my new work, alu.  it's gonna be a beautiful summer.

open call for ideas...

i've always been fascinated by ideas and imagination and how the pictures people have in their minds about other people's ideas vary so greatly.

i have just begun a project and i'd like to know if you would like to work with me.

i will be collecting your

ideas      visions       themes      ... or anything you want to see a picture of

if you would like to share any of those things with me,

 i will then take a photograph of my interpretation of your idea...

and i will send you the photograph in an envelope made just for your image.

please send your idea to my mailbox.

jamie evans

4213 se 26th ave.

portland, or. 97202

ps... i will be documenting the process to eventually make into a book of ideas.  if you don't want me to use your name, let me know and i'll make one up for you.

pps... anything goes.  

... this is somebody else's idea on my face.  

a good time for art

the past month has been a mind-altering and inspiring time for art. i have had the opportunity to see some phenomenal works and collections of art. today began with a field trip to the portland art museum with my art education class. i must admit to being a bit skeptical, but instead had my mind blown by recent acquisitions of beautiful works by van gogh, matisse, monet, toulouse lautrec, raushenburg, kiki smith, ... i found myself on my knees a few times after laying eyes upon some particularly marvelous works by louise bourgeois (a firecracker of a woman born the same year as my tiny nana who reminds me more than a little of her) and marcel duchamp.  for a museum in a not-so-big city, i was amazed by the breadth and magnitude of their collections (a great many pieces have been gifted to the museum) in their contemporary wing alone.
this week especially has gotten me to thinking about the division between thinking about and feeling art. the spark for these thoughts came after seeing portland-based artist marie watt speak about her recent work. her work focuses on indigenous cultures, ideas about home, and community-building (through well-fed sewing circles). she was refreshingly open and presented important social commentary with honesty and depth of emotion.
my exposure to the art world during the past few years has been in thinking about art, dissecting art, and sterilizing the most beautifully messy aspects of the artistic endeavor.
i had almost allowed myself to disconnect from the importance of art as therapy. not only in creating art, but in looking at art do we have occasion to celebrate and feel.

...neither photograph adequately represents the grandeur of the each piece. the first by marie watt, entitled braids, is over 10 feet tall and 22 feet long. the second by kiki smith, entitled saint genevieve is about 8 feet tall and 12 feet long and is equipped with a motion sensor that plays the sounds of wolves crying. they are both incredibly evocative.

excerpt from 'letter to a friend'

recipe for a beautiful day:

[from the backyard]
sunshine
clove-scented blankets
birdsong
dandelions

[from the farmers' market]
arugula
sweet baguette
venison pate' (country-style)
crumbly sheep cheese
the knowledge of shared delights

[from the pantry]
mint mate' (cold)
coarse sea salt
olive oil

mix in desired quantities and enjoy!

... yesterday was an inspired day, a tickler of a day. it was sunshine and warmth and silliness and a sweet introduction to a sultry summer.

the first law of thermodynamics

'the first law states that energy is neither created nor destroyed. it may change form, go from one place to another, or be degraded into less usable forms.'
-moran, human adaptability

YEAH! so, energy becomes a shape-shifter. it degrades, and regenerates constantly, taking on different forms and adapting to the environment as it sees fit to maintain homeostasis.
each and every little thing we do has an effect on the environment (living and non-living). our interactions, foodsteps, consumption, etc. affects the people, terrain, and resources in this messy, confusing, exhilarating system we call life.

it kinda blows my mind a little.

... speaking of energetic resonance: i have a new friend. he's two.

first thursday

i got my first real taste of the art scene here in portland last night. i mingled with a refreshingly diverse segment of the population during 'first thursday' in old town. the balmy evening enticed a plethora of individuals out into the open air; asian couples in mercedes', hipsters on fixies, hippies, street kids, white and blue collar alike. the art, like the people, was a top-notch representation of said diversity. there was a really special show at the pony club featuring the art of two new friends, david wien and seth neefus, along with a variety of other wonderfully talented artists (including a surprise appearance by animal sleep stories, the works of daria tessler). the most simultaneously intriguing, and anxiety-inducing opening was at the core gallery. the gallery itself is 3 1/2 feet tall and required entrance through a crawl space on hands and knees (which for the claustrophobes of the world, like me, is very scary). the collaborative efforts of artists alisha wessler and cin shepard, as well as the audio soundscapes of stirling myles produced '2 years under olaf's sun', and eerily beautiful exhibit in an uncanny space.
... as an added bonus, i got a mini beer tour hosted by an awesome new friend. it was nice.

i'm falling in love...

observations:

people say 'thank you' when they get off the bus.
geared bicycles far outnumber fixed-gear bikes.
it sometimes snows in april.
there are lots of co-ops.
i once went to a supermarket for my favorite ice cream. it was a ghost town.
jury's out on the hipsters. they might be nice.
lots of musicians don't ask people to pay for their shows.
the water company has replaced water with beer in its municipal supply.
people smile.
communities participate.
the only year-round farmers' market is 8 blocks away.
the most common bumper sticker is a green heart inside the state of oregon.
it is sold at supermarkets and co-ops alike.
the largest used bookstore in the country lives here. it's big.
it's easy to fall in love with yourself when you're looking.

a break from inessential insanities

i am revisiting 'another roadside attraction' again (for the third admittedly hedonistic time) and can't keep my mind from a particularly poignant (albeit silly) passage. this passage is like a song on repeat in my internal walkman... headphones on loud, giving my boots a run for their money around this new city.

'there are essential and inessential insanities. the latter are solar in character, the former are linked to the moon.
inessential insanities are a brittle amalgamation of ambition, aggression, and pre-adolescent anxiety. garbage that should have been dumped long ago. essential insanities are those impulses one instinctively senses are virtuous and correct, even though peers may regard them as coo coo.
inessential insanities get one in trouble with oneself. essential insanities get one into trouble with others. it is always preferable to be in trouble with others.
in fact, it may be essential.'

--the brilliant modern-day sage of facetious, tom robbins

something new from something found

this is a little meditation on life that i wrote a few weeks ago.
i'd like to share it with you.

'...to be more comfortable inside my skin:
it pushed and pulled and broke me so many times.
it demanded of me a strength i didn't know i possessed.
san francisco was five years of falling down and forcing myself back up
to face the melee.
it exhausted me and took fro me the lightness of being
i had known in san luis obispo.
it forced me into submission and forced me to make a reckoning with myself.
to live by the rules of none but myself (a realization i admittedly did not come to easily)
is to live by my dreams.
i ached and screamed and bled by san francisco to be able to be here--
in portland for my self and by my self.'

a different kind of spring

i went to sleep last night wanting to share a poem about the beauty of spring in this post today, but instead...
i awoke earlier than normal thinking that i had wrestled myself from the throes of a bad dream and rose to test out the day. as i wandered around my house sleepy-eyed and slightly grumpy, i tried to recall the source of my nocturnal torment, but found an easy and incredibly pleasant distraction
snow.
yes, it is snowing and it is beautiful.
whenever i have the opportunity to experience snow, i do so with alacrity. when i visit my parents in indiana in the winter, my mom and i establish a routine about snow. my mom watches faithfully for me and upon sighting the first flurries never fails to announce, "look binky, it's snowing!" in that way my childlike enthusiasm can be fostered well into adulthood and i can greet new days with infectious glee.
my housemate rose this morning initially dismayed by another cold day, but quickly found a new perspective after witnessing my excitement.
with a big grin, she announced that the universe sent the snow just for me.

more rain = beautiful abundance

speaking of abundance... portland never seems to be without a plethora of interesting events, one of which i was delighted to be a part of last night. i had the opportunity to see a wonderful shadow puppet show at valentine's, called ice cream truck face. if they're in your neighborhood, flag them down and check out their hijinks.

and later...

i had the opportunity last night to be a part of small and sweet closing party at the together gallery. i got to meet the artists/owners as well as a few friends, one of whom is installing for the next show today. they were wonderfully kind, open, inspired, talented(!) and unguarded group of people i have experienced in a gallery setting in a long time.
a great weight feels like it is lifting as i settle into my life here in portland and close the chapter of san francisco. i feel the opportunity for growth within a positive community is truly possible here.

... and it smells nice, too.

if you want to check out the last show at together (mark's teepee!) or want to see what's coming up, it's worth the extra few minutes.

sunny days are here

saturday was the blissful (despite my love of rain) freedom from precipitation. the cold and crisp early spring morning promised birdsong and families out en masse shopping for seed. at the co-op, eager children grabbed at seed packets, drawn by the beautiful colors and plump vegetables while moms followed them patiently and explained which seeds would sprout best and which they had to wait for. the springs excitement was palpable. people gathered to converse and share stories of winter hardships and spring growth. saturday was a day for garage sales, lawn mowers, bicycles and the re-emergence of winter projects half-forgotten. for me it was an opportunity to free my lenses from their caps and share some inspiration.
...happy equinox... belated...



the first photo was from the train yard near my house. i've been eyeing those cars, and after my housemate told stories about freight hopping friends, well...
the second is early spring in my backyard.

life is nice.

day one

this is a photo taken at portland state.  each white flag represents approximately five iraqi lives lost.  the red flags indicate every american life lost.  it seems so easy for an installation like this to become cliche, but i found it to be moving in its simplicity. the juxtaposition of the flags against the stark winter landscape evokes a feeling of profound melancholy and compassion for those living amidst the stark reality of war. although there is so much i fail to comprehend about war, statements like this never cease to pull me from my consumer-driven haze and into a state of pensive (and in this case inspired) reflection.

new(s) days

i just moved to portland after much time and talk about it. in an endeavor to connect those i love most with my very first days here, i have decided to make this little blog with a photo a day for the first month i'm here.
i hope you enjoy the photos and can walk next to me for a little minute while i explore this beautiful new place.

i love you all so much.

james

it remains to be seen

surrounded by all (most) of the chaos in my life, i decided to embark upon a new adventure-- the blog. inspired by a spine-tingling, clammy handed, voice cracking, nerve wracking speech about the world of blogs, i gave in and started my own. after years of vacillation, the day has come. here it is to tickle, tease, and delight.
cheers!
james