royal tree-tment

Well, look at this.  The TV Weasels are still on the loose.  And looking down on the world from up above for a change!  That’s Mike showing his complete command of heights at the Out ‘N About Treehouse Resort outside Takilma, OR.  As the name implies, its owner Michael Garnier has, as he put it, “found a way to make a living doing something fun.”  He’s built a series of treehouses around the property, ranging from romantic little  passion perches to a split-level Swiss Family Treehouse.  He’s also got horses, a stream fed swimming pool and zip lines for racing through the trees at breakneck speed.  Score one for “Strap Me In & Let Me Go” Murphy there too!  

All this action actually occurred yesterday, as did a visit to the giant Caveman and Cowboy Corral Muffler Man in Grant’s Pass, but computer issues put the kabosh on this overdue blog--until now.  

Today also turned out to be quite tree-centric, with a trip down scenic 101 into northern California that detoured into a redwood grove near Klamath for what else--some quick forest catch.  When the ball rolled into the woods, we expected Bigfoot might toss it back, but no go.  The awesome beauty of those ancient giants kept our wise-cracking to a minimum. However, the talking Paul Bunyan at the entrance to the cheezmoriffic “Trees of Wonder” was another story. As Babes go, his blue companion was quite well-endowed!

Don had a terrific veggie-laden lunch in Arcata at the Daybreak Cafe. Who says we’re not treating the geezer good?  Tomorrow’s a big day, with much art and adventure in Eureka.  Stay tuned!  

On the farm (s) with rasmus and gene

That would be the Petersen Rock Gardens pictured above--the 17 year masterwork of a Danish farmer named Rasmus Peterson a few miles outside Redmond, OR.  In some respects very similar to other rock gardens we’ve seen, but spread out liberally around his acreage, and even out into the parking lot!  His granddaughter Sue runs the place now, with help from her husband George (he does the repairs) and a flock of n very noisy peacocks.  Lots of water involved here too, with bridges and walkways, pools and falls.  Years ago they sold Viewmaster slides in the gift shop, but alas, no more...

The other “agricultural” site is a few miles closer to Bend--the Funny Farm.  Gene, the owner, sells antiques and collectables (Don bought a Supremes album and Alaska commemorative plate) in a ramshackle shop with a giant Yellow Sub totem outside.  There’s an Agitator Wall, a Bowling Ball Garden, the Love Pond, and plenty of homage to the Wizard of Oz sprinkled around the grounds. His rainbow job on the barn roof caused quite a stir at first, but in that case at least, Gene fought the law, and the fun won!

We toasted our final day of shooting with another round at Starbucks, bought the new Eric Clapton CD and a NY Times and started heading for home. 

Musical highlights--The Best of John Hiatt, Nnenna Freelon’s Bille Holiday Tribute,“Transcendental Blues”--Steve Earle, John Hartford Live

Man of many modes

Bomber Gas in Milwaukie, OR is quite the local landmark.  At first, the big B-17 hung over some gas pumps in this small town south of Portland.  Then the owners turned to food, and that’s what the place is known for today.  Since we’d already stuffed ourselves on complimentary hotel breakfast fare, we grabbed our gloves and threw a few under the fuselage.

But before we could even break free of Milwaukie, honorary producer de jour Don spotted a Lady Liberty peeking out over a strip mall. A fiberglass replica mounted on a big stone pedestal in the parking lot shared by several car repair facilities.  Turns out Matthew and Chris, two brothers from Iran wanted to say “thanks” for the chance to prosper, and chose what for various reasons turned out to be a half million dollar way to do it!

Two and a half driving hours later found us at the beach. Newport to be exact, meeting up with our Northwest tipster and “Raw Vision” writer Eliza Murphy.  She led us to Rick Bartow’s home and art complex out on the bay--land owned by his family for several generations.  Rick’s a Wiot tribal member, sober for 26 years, and thrilled that he can make art for a living.  Art that draws from nature and certain Native American symbologies, but wanders into areas (some of them pretty dark) that are all his own.  There’s painting, drawing, ceramics, sculpting and printmaking going on out here, and he plays in a blues band too.  Another in our series of guys who don’t ever seem to stop.  But eventually we did, knowing that a drive back across the mountains awaited.  Through the mist, with darkness falling, we oohed, aahed and held our breath while the Ford Freestar safely carried us to the High Desert on the other side.

Musical highlights--New Neil Young, “Goodbye”--Cream, “Poison Love”--Buddy Miller, “Making Movies”--Dire Straits, the new Paul McCartney (sorry about the breakup)

va-va-va velvet

Portland’s a pretty place.  That’s a given.  They’ve got two big rivers, lots of greenery and roses, light rail and all kinds of eco-awareness to help preserve it.  They also have The World’s Smallest Park, an officially recognized piece of mini-greenspace on a traffic median downtown.  Only due to construction, it’s currently in storage!!!!  At least that’s the story we got from some nearby office workers on their morning smoke break.  Who knew?

While downtown we also scoped out the Mark Wooley Gallery in the Pearl District, where Seattle’s Ann Grgich (who was out of town when we passed through) has co-curated a great show of outsider artists from around the world. Get out the credit cards.  Purchases were made...

Other notable achievements along the way included a Thai meal that didn’t involve any screaming from the kitchen (see 5/14 entry) and Don purchasing the new Neil Young CD in anticipation of long drives to come.

All that said, our real mission here was “the epicenter of art in Portland,” (at least according to its creators) The Velveteria.  The World’s only museum of velvet painting is the natural outgrowth of collecting so many of the danged things at garage sales and flea markets--1100 or so of them.  Carl Baldwin and Caren Anderson genuinely love these crazy colored icons from a simpler time.  Jesus, John Wayne, Elvis and naked ladies seem to lead the league, but they’ve also got plenty of poodles and gringos, Yoda and JFK too.  At just $3 per head, it’s a head-turning expereience, and money well spent, especially since they didn’t make us pay!

Later, we toured North Portland in the art car that Marci McFarlane calls “Trophy Wife” a ’74 Dodge Dart with its top shorn off, festooned with commemorative hardware and a non-factory paint job.  It’s her fifth art car, and a great way to see the neighborhood, including her absent friend Jim Skinner’s place and the oddly autocentric Beaterville Cafe. Portland’s art car community has long been an active one, and our only regret was that the Rev. Chuck Linvell’s world-renowned Danger Car was MIA, but in the what-the-theck-is-going-on-here 86 degree heat, we had to QUIT.

Newport on the coast tomorrow!