wide ruins

world-come-to-an-end

2012-01-07T21:40:00.000-08:00

happy new year! it just may be our last..... or not. live it like it is and you'll be in good form if and when the Intergalactic Federation beams down.

From a dialog between two Karuk elders, recorded in Northern California around 1900. Translated from the Karuk by Julian Lang.

-The Old People were following the Ikxareeyavs, the Spirit People, all the time. All the People did the same long ago; whatever the Ikxareeyavs did, the People did. And the things that the Spirit People ate, that was all the Old People ate. That’s what they were told, “You must eat this kind of food.”

-The Spirit People ate salmon and they spooned up acorn soup, eating salmon along with acorn soup. And they ate deermeat.

-And the Old People claimed that the Spirit People ate two meals a day.

-And so that’s the way the Old People did as well.

-When the white people all came, the Old People said, “they are eating food poisonous to Indians”

-It is poison food, world-come-to-an-end food.

-The working-aged people were the first to eat the white man’s food. When they liked it, they really liked it. Then they told each other, “It’s good tasting food.” They said, “He never dies. I’m going to eat it, that white man’s bread.” It was a long time before the Old Men and Old Women ate the white man’s food. We are the last ones that know.

-How the Spirit People used to do, all that they used to eat.

-Our mothers told us that. And even we do not eat anymore.

-What they told us before, “You must eat this kind.”

-And what will they who are raised after us do?

[from Full Moon Feast: Food and the Hunger for Connection by Jessica Prentice.]

all's fair in love and wardrobe

2011-01-31T16:15:00.000-08:00

I'm hooked on Jeana Sohn's 'closet visit' series. there's a slim chance it has something to do with my new year's resolution to go the year without buying myself any clothing. any. so, I'm living large, vicariously.

the latest, Beatrice Valenzuela, has a wardrobe I could make my own...

perpetual wildness

2011-01-21T14:09:00.000-08:00

what was it about even this very high-powered, child-centered, "creative" school, that made children stupid? I cam to feel, as I wrote in How Children Fail, that it was fear, boredom,amd the confusion of having constantly to manipulate meaningless words and symbols. I see now that it was that, but far more than that, the fact that others had taken control of their minds. it was being taught, in the sense of being trained like circus animals to do tricks ondemand, that had made them stupid (at least in school).

on the basis of much experience, Bateson says this is true of all creatures, and I agree. the elephant in the jungle is smarter than the elephant waltzing in the circus. The sea lion in the sea is smarter than the Sea Lion playing "My Country 'Tis of Thee" on some instrument. The rat eating garbage in the slums is smarter than the rat running mazes in the psychology lab. The crawling baby, touching, handling, tasting everything it can reach, is smarter than the baby learning, because it pleases his mother, to touch his nose when she shows him a card with the word NOSE on it.

John Holt; Teach Your Own [first published in 1981]

Particularly surprising is the large number of African and American mammals that were never domesticated, despite their having Eurasian close relatives or counterparts that were domesticated. Why were Eurasia's horses domesticated, but not Africa's zebras? ........Why Eurasia's five species of wild cattle (aurochs, water buffalo, yak, gaur, banteng), but not the African buffalo or American bison?

Jared Gold; Guns, Germs and Steel

It would appear that every wild animal has had its chance of being domesticated, that [a] few .... were domesticated long ago, but that the large remainder, who failed sometimes in only one small particular, are destined to perpetual wildness"

Francis Galton [quote taken from Guns, Germs and Steel]

This is the Third Sign: A strange beast like a buffalo but with great long horns, will overrun the land in large numbers. These White Feather saw with his eyes -- the coming of the white men's cattle.

Hopi prophecy

like This and like that and like.....

2010-04-27T11:56:00.000-07:00

a new little gallery opened in the neighborhood. it's called This. I missed their last show - all collages - but they were generous enough to post all the pieces on their site.

by, top to bottom, JoeMcKay, Lola Dupre and Danger.

who doesn't enjoy a clever collage?
many more here.

if at first you don't secede......

2010-04-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

"...high-level California leaders at the height of the budget crisis combed state and federal constitutions to see if the state could become a territory again, allowing it possibly to run a deficit or coin money."

"California boasts 17 of the top 30 American tech companies — including Google and Facebook — receives three times as many patents as the next most inventive state, hosts five of the country’s top 10 universities by research funding, and is larger in size and population and economy than many of the world’s countries. And by the latest estimate, California only gets about 80 cents for every dollar it pays in federal taxes."

more here

blooming deserts and a pregnant woman roaming the mud caves. make your own metaphor.

2010-03-15T21:08:00.000-07:00

Month of Datura

2010-01-28T11:17:00.000-08:00

"Adults have sucked Momoy leaves to foretell the future and to prevent damage to their souls by evil. If an adult saw a coyote walking like a man, in other words taking human form, this meant the coyote would soon take the adult's soul unless a Momoy leaf was sucked"

Frank Lemos, Chumash

Healing with Medinical Plants of the West

by Cecilia Garcia

Coyote is still roaming urban LA, turning up in parks, even loping across major intersections. our foul modern souls may be beyond his temptation, but if you happen to own one worth worrying over, hear this: Momoy, or Sacred Datura, is still here too, and even easier to find. to come upon anything sacred, not to mention beautiful and sweet smelling, at a freeway off-ramp might seem like a victory, but in this day Datura has been demoted to "weed" just as Coyote has been reduced to "pest". but these relics of aboriginal Los Angeles - who knew her when she was loamy and sweet, generations apart from the jaded, paved lady we see now - are precious indeed.

in Chumash legend "the world was originally inhabited 'the First People', supernatural beings who were regarded as the tribal ancestors. The world of the First People was destroyed by a primal flood which transformed these ancestors into all the birds, animals and plants of today. Among the First People was an old Grandmother known as 'Momoy', who had the gift of clairvoyance. When the flood came she was transformed into the Datura plant. The descendants of the First People (i.e. the Chumash) can share in her gift of clairvoyance by partaking of her sacrament. According to the myth, Momoy washed her hands in water and the Initiate drinks the resulting liquid. Thereupon he falls into a deep sleep in which he meets his animal-spirit helper, communicates with his ancestors or has visionary dreams about his future."

Carlos Castaneda's accounts are famously problematic, but Dan Juan [using another of Datura's assortment of nicknames] got this much right:

"The devil's weed has four heads: the root, the stem and leaves, the flowers, and the seeds. Each one of them is different and whoever becomes her ally must learn about them in that order. The most important head is in the roots. The power of the devil's weed is conquered through the roots. The stem and leaves are the head that cures maladies; properly used, this head is a gift to mankind. The third head is in the flowers, and it is used to turn people crazy, or to make them obedient, or to kill them..... the seeds; they are the fourth head of the devil's weed and the most powerful of the four."

all over the world, the various Datura cousins are vital to indigenous traditions. from Africa to the Americas her powers of clairvoyance and guardianship of important secrets are unquestioned; Yogis and Gypsies alike want to get all up on her aphrodisiacal potential; and in the Carribean she is called Zombie Cucumber- say no more.

with power comes peril and, make no mistake, these nightshades can absolutely be deadly. a mildly cautionary tale surrounds the origins of the common name Jimsonweed:

"The James-Town Weed (which resembles the Thorny Apple of Peru, and I take to be the plant so call'd) is supposed to be one of the great coolers in the world. This being an early plant, was gather'd very young for a boil'd salad, by some of the soldiers sent thither to quell the rebellion of Bacon (1676); and some of them ate plentifully of it, the effect of which was a very pleasant comedy, for they turned natural fools upon it for several days: one would blow up a feather in the air; another would dart straws at it with much fury; and another, stark naked, was sitting up in a corner like a monkey, grinning and making mows [grimaces] at them; a fourth would fondly kiss and paw his companions, and sneer in their faces with a countenance more antic than any in a Dutch droll.

In this frantic condition they were confined, lest the should, in their folly, destroy themselves - though it was observed that all their actions were full of innocence and good nature. Indeed, they were not very cleanly; for they would have wallowed in their own excrements, if they had not been prevented. A thousand such simple tricks they played, and after eleven days returned themselves again, not remembering anything that had passed."

-The History and Present State of Virginia, 1705

that would have been a rather long time to wallow in excrement.

even when approached with the correct reverence and knowledge, she's never harmless. Sacred Datura was intrinsic to the rites of passage of many native tribes of California. most of the young initiates returned from their 'journey' with knowledge and an animal spirit guide, but a few were swallowed whole.

Month of Datura is what the Chumash call January.

ruins for their own sake

2010-01-20T14:35:00.000-08:00

"...Los Pozas, an outdoor surrealist sculpture park in the tropical rainforest of Mexico. The park consists of 80 acres of concrete psychedelic structures that weave in and out of waterfalls, orchids, and overgrown jungle landscapes."

via: Viva Vena Cava

move em' on, head em' up

2008-07-21T20:20:00.000-07:00

we're off for two leisurely weeks of steer roping and camping [we can't get enough] in Wyoming, where Ryan grew up. see you in August.

rawhide!

passive cooling

2008-07-12T14:12:00.000-07:00

more specialists weigh in on looking cool in 100% weather.
and not a platform flip-flop in sight.

icing on the cake

2008-07-08T16:08:00.000-07:00

tempting paint colors and useful embellishments.

fuego trabajos....

2008-07-05T19:33:00.000-07:00

is Spanish for fire works [but not fireworks]....
and the dog is not bothered by them in the least...

paying attention

2008-06-19T19:14:00.000-07:00

"When we Indians kill meat, we eat it all up. When we dig roots, we make little holes. When we build houses, we make little holes. When we burn grass for grasshoppers, we don't ruin things. We shake down acorns and pine nuts. We don't chop down the trees. We only use dead wood.

But the white people plow up the ground, pull down the trees, kill everything.... the White people pay no attention.... How can the spirit of the earth like the White man? .... everywhere the White man has touched it, it is sore."

a Wintu woman in the 1800's [before bulldozers]

and then...

2008-06-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

the stain and first coat of high-gloss [for strength] varnish are down. it's starting to smell- and look, more and more - like home.

climate control

2008-06-15T07:21:00.000-07:00

exhibit A:
in other words, it's HOT. just using all caps is wearing me out.

if you're not lucky enough to live in a cave, but too conscientious to pump up the freon, take some fashion advice from my hot-blooded friends here.
what I'm going to do is wander through space and time to see what I can learn from people who've thrived in scorching conditions for thousands of years; without wilting, without Freon. hardly naked savages, these ladies all look comfortable and smart.

but I'm beyond offended by the trouserless fellow below. around here we call that a Porky Pig and it's unacceptable.that's all folks!

armchair archaeology

2008-06-12T20:58:00.000-07:00

what do you make of this?

this?

just a house we've been trying to live in

2008-06-10T08:02:00.000-07:00

people. did I ever tell you about how we're building a house?

or we were. once. for reasons that I don't have the mental capacity to describe just now, progress was forcibly halted and we've spent the last six months spinning our wheels, grinding our teeth, twiddling our thumbs. misery, I believe, lives in the margins between expectation and reality, but such notions haven't gone far towards making the last half a year endurable.

but as Willie says, 'time will take care of itself so just leave time alone'. and so it has. we've been thrown a bone and finally - FINALLY - given permission to proceed to the next step, putting in the floors we thought would be in by last Christmas.
Birch plywood. handsome, unassuming, not too yellow.
and we're off!

late afternoon delights

2008-06-04T07:10:00.000-07:00

tracks, be-winged and be-wheeled.a juvenile tumbleweed with guests.coyote melon asserting itself...
and providing silver-green accomodations for a lone snail.

you better shape up

2008-06-02T08:02:00.000-07:00

Carolyn and Rookie, on fire.

if all the good barns are taken

2008-05-28T08:21:00.000-07:00

funny, the little things that point us towards our futures. we can't take every encounter as a portent, but if I knew then what I know now I might've steered clear of Willie Nelson's Magritte-inspired Electric Horseman t-shirt I got a couple years ago. the only image is a rendering of a trailer hitch and below, the words "this is a chrome trailer hitch".

oh, Willie, is it, heck. how did you know and why didn't I listen?

if it hadn't become such an important influence on our building philosophy I might also rue the day that, in Port Townsend for our honeymoon, we picked up this incredible book:
oh, the horror. we imagined it might come in handy years down the road, when we bought a little chunk of land in the country, not supposing in our wildest worst-case scenarios that we were only days from being asked to vacate our current charming, cheap rental in Echo Park..
this little book's succinct messages of wasting-not-wanting-not, embracing imperfection and working with the land and not in spite of it are applicable everywhere, but very hard to find in most design books and magazines.
'a sanctuary for the human imagination. if it happens to embrace the karma of an ancient oak, all the better.'
'almost a Navaho hogan, this octagon of interlocked hardwood logs is crowned by a wheel of light. the power company hasn't scribbled on their sky with wires.'
'if all the good barns are taken, there's nothing to stop you from building your own.'
'the furniture he makes is his art, and around it this craftsman built a sun-loving house.'
'if you luck into an Ashram that peddles great salvage, you'd buy this window for two hundred dollars, like the young couple who now have an archangel sharing their resurrected barn.'
'a fine new house and another couple heavily into stained glass, ceramics and quilting with home-dyed swatches. they have no secrets from their plants.'
'long on the land, a sculptor muscled out the bluestone for his house, healed the quarry hole with spring water and had himself a swimming pool.'
'Hervey built a whole colony, scattering rough cabins like seeds. when you were broke he never asked for rent. of course, you helped him to build his concert hall.'

ai, Poppy

2008-05-19T21:14:00.000-07:00

a second shot at Spring.

looking, not touching

2008-05-11T14:18:00.000-07:00

I can't have these- maybe you?

an unusually sculptural antique steer horn coat rack, currently under $50:

another notable rack, no bids yet but the opener's $399:

a pair of skeletal candlesticks at $50:

and to keep it real, a nice, toothy stool, $75 and rising:

San Francisco sky scratchers

2008-05-11T13:31:00.000-07:00

there was Incidental Architecture to be found in San Francisco, although none as silly as we do down here. architectural harmony... my old foe. one of these, by the way, is a cheat; not incidental at all, but an arresting addition to an earlier building. you'll have to figure it out for yourself!

lean and solid everywhere

2008-05-07T17:55:00.000-07:00

can't imagine a yard that wouldn't benefit from a set of these ethereal lights- particularly if they're sturdy enough to sit on. the largest is about 30"x23"x19". get 'em here.

[seems no one was tempted by the $1,100 opening bid and these have been re-listed for just $300 [with a reserve...]. right here.]

I'm out

2008-05-01T15:51:00.000-07:00

I am so gone. off for a week with friends and family in San Francisco that I've earned like you don't even know. I wish my dear husband could join me- it's fair to say he's earned it too- but we're at an awkward stage with the house and he wouldn't be able to relax. I'm going to relax for the both of us. and having a relaxed wife for a change will be like a vacation for him.
here's a peek into what I'm leaving behind. I've promised these photos for a long time, but, you see, our little piece of heaven has more nooks and crannies than an English muffin. imagine living inside an English muffin. living there with your husband, job, dog, books, plans, the administrative side-effects of getting married and buying a house, a healthy appetite and a few very large, very demanding projects.

tell me now: would you be able to keep all those nooks and crannies in photo-shoot condition? then, brother you're a better man than I.
on paper, our mortal coil measures a decent 9' x 17', but as science and mathematics have shown so many times before, the numbers don't tell the whole story. it's difficult to sleep while a person's sauteeing because the whole box rocks like you're in choppy water. you can't stretch your arms over your head. a plate of beans turns home into a gas chamber in no time flat. two not-large people can't even putter around together without much sucking in and side-stepping.

if you've read anything about the psychological effects experienced by people who work in in offices with windows that don't open, then you have an inkling of why I'm elated to be shoving off.
the floor space might be called 'stubby'. though admirably designed- more efficient than a Tokyo motel room- when you subtract a built-in bed, table [the bed below is our kitchen table, which cunningly transforms into a bed], closet, bathroom and kitchen from that 9' x 17' you're left with a total of 32.5 square feet for pacing. I did the math and all the numbers are there: 32.5. there are solitary confinement cells with more breathing room.
I've done a lot of small living: in closets and hostels, on couches and out of back-packs. the trailer has been a challenge, but would have been unbearable without my previous experiences. still....

it'll be an interesting thing to think about. but later.

mid air

2008-04-25T18:34:00.000-07:00

petrified

2008-04-23T20:59:00.000-07:00

these are all in the same chunk of rock, right on Sunset Boulevard in Echo Park.
but they're worldwide...

it folds!

2008-04-17T20:14:00.000-07:00

if I had $300 burning a hole in my pocket I'd be all over this here bentwood wonder....

so ahead of myself I'm getting behind

2008-04-16T20:18:00.000-07:00

breaking news. only, let's see, four months ago, America's own Elle Decor put out a really nice issue. two farmhouses-worth of ideas.

tipi toast

2008-04-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

with the hobbit door complete and the beaver-hewn birch ornament hung with care, the tipi was ready to meet the neighbors. and they came out in full force to see up close the white elephant on the hill and meet the squatter who calls it home. add in a bonfire and a band and you have the makings of a magical evening.

federal agents, mad cause I flagrant

2008-04-08T21:02:00.000-07:00

it's tax time- just when you thought you might catch your breath. for those of us still leaning on the pessimistic adage that death and taxes are the only sure things in life, I have a surprise:

Income taxes were enacted at various times until 1894, but were not imposed after 1895 when an 1894 tax act was found to be unconstitutional. In response, the 16th Amendment was ratified in 1913.

less than a hundred years of being a 'sure thing' and we're giving up? goes on to say that this convenient ratification has been unsuccessfully disputed time and again, but then, the government can afford better attorneys, huh?

with your cheese!

bundle of joy

2008-04-04T15:06:00.000-07:00

this, the one halfway finished room in the house, gets attention from us like it's a baby boy, only hope for the survival of our lineage. we dote on it, buy it little gifts, are deaf and blind to any flaws you might claim to notice.

it did not come into this world without a struggle. and we did it all at home, without professional help.

very briefly, a history....
oh, we really thought we were on a roll here, us, with our killer- and practical- soft grey cement bathtub surround. our spanking new Ikea sink. if anything, I was worried it might end up too DKNY Home, but knew in my heart that if we kept the major elements simple we would be able to bring it all down to our level in no time.

please bear in mind, we were plain dirty at this time, having made the hard decision to get the cement right before putting in the tub. it was tough, but all paid of shortly.

ha. no! it didn't! this is what happened when we sealed the cement [much greener in person. I like green. not this green.]....
oof. look at that scar tissue. DKNY Home doesn't sound so bad anymore...

scratching our heads [and not in confusion] we gave in, painted it over and, with a skateboard, quickly moved the tub [from the set of Charmed! if you want to talk your husband into a claw foot tub, Rose McGowan doesn't hurt.] into its new home.
so here we are. if this doesn't strike you dumb, remember that it ain't over yet and, more importantly, that this is what we started with. hope our little one will be able to adjust when it's not our one and only anymore.

corridors of uncertainty

2008-03-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

do you get the idea when they were in a big hurry when they built Los Angeles? or, that it was built in a series of big hurries, over the decades. you can just see the growth spurts.

coyote's wedding

2008-03-23T09:20:00.000-07:00

steel grey behind a luminous, neon green thanks to the mythical wonder of spring sunshowers.

that's a lively hood*

2008-03-21T14:45:00.000-07:00

if you've got to live in your front yard, it's hard to imagine a better location. we get very, very little traffic up here. in Echo Park, we lived in a close, 150-yard long, dead-end alley and still there'd be cars and motorcycles racing up and down it at all hours. but here, with only one house beyond ours, any unidentified vehicular approach is rare enough to set off the husband and the dog. foot traffic is not much more common and, I hate to say it, we haven't even heard much from the coyotes recently.

there was one incident...

Ryan had left before dawn and I was still in bed, below the window that runs the length of the back wall of our Riverboat Queen. at about half past six in the morning, I heard a noise and bolted upright in bed, looking around, not sure if the commotion had been in a dream or reality. through the window, bleary and disoriented, I slowly focused on a perfectly round pig-face**. a Moon Pie, pressed against the glass at eye level, looking back at me. I think it was a woman. I'm pretty sure she was wearing Raider's colors. beyond her was a scrawny, nervous-looking homey.

stunned, but still razor sharp, I did the first thing that came to mind- laid back down as quickly as I'd sat up AND LOOKED THE OTHER WAY. because that makes them go away, right?

well, in this case it does. they wandered away and Ryan was inspired to craft a state-of-the-art, blackout- and fool- proof security device: a tinkling doorbell for the [three-foot] gate made from stray bits of hardware. it's second only to our other security device: having nothing worth thieving.

this story is only to illustrate why, when Jared came jogging by the other evening, it was out of the ordinary. in fact, he's our newest neighbor, having pitched a skyscraping tipi on prime real estate just a short trip down the hill.

we had to check it out straight away....
comfortable, regal, ingenious. the idea that such a structure can be easily put up, taken down and transported makes it hard not to wonder what we've gained with our poured concrete foundations, re-bar, meticulous framing and rigid roofs.

did we put our faith in The Three Little Pigs and forget about The Oak and the Willow?
Ryan and Jared are in discussions to trick out the tipi with a wooden door.

* Ludacris in the Felli Fell song, 'Get Buck In Here'.
**peer in my window while I'm sleeping and I can call you what I like.

getting ahead of myself...cont'd

2008-03-15T18:58:00.000-07:00

can it be I haven't 'gotten ahead of myself' since November?
some wife!

well, thanks again to remodelista for a lovely post on brass, and for also reminding me of another favorite British designer,the outstanding Ilse Crawford.
like her countryman, Sir Terence, Ilse's interiors combine utility and loveliness so smoothly that the line between the two is hazy. it all looks so easy, right? like even you could maybe hang out there! as it should be. nothing's invited that doesn't earn its keep and also look good in an enduring way. each element looks comfortable with itself; not threatened s if it suspects that the next antler craze or some such might displace it...
even these statelier moments are understated enough to be inviting rather than imposing.

we'll leave the light on for you

2008-03-10T21:36:00.000-07:00

haven't actually been inside LACMA's new Broad addition, but I did manage a quick dash through Chris Burden's charming streetlight installation. the interview here is interesting.

sprung

2008-03-07T16:44:00.000-08:00

Navy Seal training, I've heard, involves learning to sleep upright, in a vertical hole, with continuous mortar fire going off next to you. this crossed my mind one night when the heavy rain and yowling wind abusing our little tin shoebox turned suddenly into a thrilling staccato clatter. not armed insurgents; no, something even rarer for this part of the country: hail.
we're being rewarded now for those exciting night of hail and high water with a landscape of emerald green. our hills most often appear to have a shaggy coat of camel hair so we're drinking it all in while it lasts. it hasn't crossed our minds that this will all be kindling in a matter of weeks!
someone thinks this sudden growth is her one and only chance at fame. click on the picture for a better look at that ridiculous expression of enthusiasm.

the revolution will not be televised

2008-03-05T19:55:00.000-08:00

Cucamonga Manroot, Chilicothe, Wild Cucumber, Old-Man-In-The-Ground. Satanic Fruit.

by whatever colorful name, this fast-growing native vine - and its huge, underground tuber - could overwhelm a preoccupied city in no time. for now it's happy to scramble over and clasp its sturdy tendrils onto the trees and fences around the compound.
I count nine above. with its natural environment disrupted and the recent rains on top of that, Chilicothe can envelope scenery at a kudzu-like rate.
the Chilicothe's mace-like fruit has long, black seeds filled with poisonous oil that the natives here used to poison water for catching fish! the seeds could also be made into red paint or black makeup and the in- and out- sides of the fruits skin as loofahs or sponges.

trailer improvement

2008-03-04T19:20:00.000-08:00

this is small potatoes as projects go, but as an easy and flexible alternative to wall paper, I'm quite pleased with it.

the back wall of the trailer, in what you might call our 'bedroom', has a wood veneer under a sheet of textured white vinyl that had become dingy beige over the last thirty-odd years. I scratched and picked off most of the paper except where it threatened to take the veneer off with it. and then I had a whole new ugliness to wake up next to.

I did consider 'real' wallpaper, but soon smacked myself- the cost and effort necessary to do it right would be grandly disproportionate to the time it would take for me to tire of any repeat print. anyway, I didn't want to cover all the veneer.instead, I went to the park on a blue winter's day and took twenty-some similar-but-different photos. because the trade-off for doing something cheaply is that you have to put more effort into it.

I printed the photos on matte sticker paper, some in multiples, in two different sizes, for more texture, cut them out and arranged them in a way that seemed handsome, not letting myself get obsessive about it. then I secured the curling corners with silver thumb-tacks.
the vinyl is hidden, the wood isn't and the colors and delicate patterns are mesmerizing.
good job, me.

back to the city

2008-02-28T18:59:00.000-08:00

the crust you can trust....

spreading like wildflower

2008-02-25T20:20:00.000-08:00

only a miracle would have lured us away from our precariously wedged life on the compound, where it can seem like our selves are merely equal to or lesser than the unrelenting forces of holes in socks, dirty corners, sinus pressure, government employees, cuts, bruises, spills, bills, and repairs. I'd guess it's like living with a poltergeist. abandoning the fort, even for a weekend, is chancy and, not wanting to upset these volatile balances, we tend to stay in place, breathing very shallowly, like Jenga pieces or mules.

as it happens, we have a miracle nearby. phew. brutish, fragile Joshua Tree National Park, 800,000 acres of Colorado and Mojave desert, is close enough to Los Angeles that traffic is snug for most of the three-hour drive; far enough that in one of the dreary, neighboring military towns, the only graffiti I could find just said 'sex'. ah, country life.

we went forth into the desert and let the compound fend for itself. the forests of flailing Joshua Trees and mammoth, gravity-defying rock piles are always spectacular, but we came this time to witness that brief moment each year when the desert blooms. two miracles for the price of one.
seeing such color in a landscape that usually reads as miles and miles of indifferent blue sky and beige rock is invigorating and, okay okay, for me, possibly metaphorical.

[Fuschia bush][Lupine and Chia flowers]

a grove of glowing Cholla [choya] cactus. if you get too close the needles might jump on you. it's easy to be impressed by the settlers who drove covered wagons here in the late 1800's and beat a living out of this barren, desolate, harsh country of sand, rock and defensive flora and fauna.

even more impressive are the civilizations that thrived here gracefully for as many as 8,000 continuous years beforehand. seems it never occurred to them that theirs was anything but a land of plenty. indeed, "One hundred and twenty-one plants are now identified as having been used as food, medicine, or as raw materials for making objects" says archaeologist Charlotte Hunter.

she also says:
Among other plant resources, acorns, mesquite pods, pinyon nuts, seeds, berries, and cactus fruits were available for the taking. The natives used plants for making bows and arrows, cordage, baskets, mats, seed-beaters, and other articles as well as for medicines. They hunted bighorn sheep, deer, rabbits, birds, amphibians, and reptiles
one food source is these slight, spiky-looking Chia flowers, whose "seeds are a valuable source of nutrients, protein and oil." in fact, "one tablespoon of chia seed is said to be enough to supply a person with 24 hours worth of energy."
likewise, this Ocotillo [oco-tee-yo] cactus; which had leaves, but no blossoms for us; has a number of uses, from medicinal to edible:

Ocotillos were used in many ways. Ground ocotillo root mixed with warm water, made a soothing bath to relieve fatigue. Root tea was used to relieve coughing and root powder was applied to swollen joints and contusions to reduce swelling. Ocotillo branches made excellent firewood and "living fences". Ocotillo blossoms, mixed with water, made a tasty drink, and seeds were ground into flour to make cakes or mush. The high percentage of protein in ocotillo seeds made it a highly nutritious food.

I might have stayed, but the poltergeist and my ungraceful life in the city beckon!

wasteful and hostile occupants

2008-02-22T23:52:00.000-08:00

[life at sea has been especially choppy these past months, but if that's really land I see on the horizon then the worst is maybe behind us. did I just say that? do I ever learn? forget it. here goes with the shameless back-dating]
before we were so enviably capable at liberating other countries, we cut our teeth on this one. it took only two-hundred-or-so years to subdue the ignorant natives and introduce to them jobs, taxes, scientific theory, law, pollution, overpopulation, common decency, waste and distant, absolute government- foundations of Civilization and Progress they'd childishly avoided in their thousands of years of evolution on and with this continent.

lucky for posterity, George Catlin was witness to the tail end of this epic ethnic cleansing and made a thoughtful record of these able people; this pristine, plentiful, land; in both words and images.

[Minnetaree village on the Missouri river]

"They are .... wasteful and hostile occupants of millions of acres of valuable agricultural, pasture and mineral lands."

General Sherman, 1882 "I love a people who have always made me welcome to the best they had ... who are honest without laws, who have no jails and no poor-house ... who have never raised a hand against me, or stolen my property, where there was no law to punish either ... and oh! how I love a people who don't live for the love of money."

George Catlin, 1868

[trailing their flat-packed tipis behind their horses][the chief's son before and after his fateful visit to Washington DC]

duct hunting

2008-02-21T19:42:00.000-08:00

this rascal has developed a hunger inside her for the feathers in our comforter, liberating them from their shell when we leave her alone in the houseboat. with no bedroom door to speak of, duct tape would seem to be our best option.
whether the tape is for the leaking hole in the comforter or the feather-thirsty hole in the dog's face.... that I haven't decided yet.

justice served up cold

2008-02-17T19:25:00.000-08:00

well. whatever this foul tree did to deserve such a fate, it was clearly treacherous. such a cocktail of retribution- public humiliation through coffin torture, beheading, mutilation, your wasted carcass left outside as a vivid reminder to passersby- this kind of imagination is not often wasted on mere murderers.

it's a small solar system, after all

2008-02-12T20:21:00.000-08:00

Gehry's Disney Concert Hall is a hulking, shiny folly; so unfit for this atmosphere that certain panels had to be sanded down to lessen the damages they were effecting on drivers [blinding glare], nearby residents [spiked cooling bills] and pedestrians [sidewalk hot spots of 140º].
but who can stay mad at a hulking, shiny spaceship? it got the coordinates wrong, is all. and its pitiful sense of direction is our gain. for example, the lush garden it brought along from its home planet; a sublime foil [...!] for its billowing bulk and surely a friendlier environment for its stainless steel skin.

Elay Dorado

2008-02-08T19:38:00.000-08:00

Arnold Schwarzenegger is our governor.
this, a quarter mile down the road from home, halfway between us and our mailbox, is our nearest cross-street: our immediate neighborhood is a mash up of city and country in the extreme. hawks and helicopters. gun shots and tumbleweeds.

living on the farm and working in downtown elay, I have the feeling of leaping between past and future, Mexico and America. every morning I make my way down into the sharp corners and hard surfaces of this alpha city and ascend in the evening back to our inner-city refuge of soil, hillbillies and wild animals. takes about twenty minutes. soon as I drive off the paved road, through the gate and onto the dirt, the city relents a little. cottontails appear, scattering frantically in front of my tires. sometimes an owl will glide above me, taking advantage of the commotion and headlights for his hunting.
it's noisy up in this oasis. mariachi bands are not a novelty. the static of traffic, roosters hollering from their cages, ice cream jalopies that play tinny Christmas hymns all year long. 'Ave Maria', 'silent night' and 'god rest ye merry gentlemen' waft up the hill every day, except during the holidays when the trucks unanimously switch to less holy fare like 'pop goes the weasel'. when I figure this out, I'll let you know.

in the 'city', just before Thanksgiving, there was a day-long raid on a house directly below us- helicopters circling for hours, LAPD cars congregating in the gang-friendly labyrinth of streets below. somebody's ultimatum finally came via megaphone: come on out or we're sending in the dogs.back in the 'country', and less than a month later, a neighbor's prized Blue Agaves were hacked apart and carried off by a small band of machete-wielding rancheros in bandanas and wide-brimmed straw hats. the bandits probably couldn't understand why the neighbor was letting them go to waste.
there's our owl, keeping his wary eye on the city...
almost home...

even after the sun disappears, nature and nurture keep up their lively song and dance. any siren shriek is joined and bested by the operatic coyote ensembles who, like us, have found some asylum here. and the city's dazzling nighttime spectacle is softened by a red sliver of moon hovering low....

bountiful city

2008-02-03T18:34:00.000-08:00

are those papayas dangling from these spiny trees ? dunno, but I'm rolling with it.

what a tangled web we weave

2008-01-28T19:27:00.000-08:00

everywhere you look up, Los Angeles' famous blue skies are delineated by poles and lines.
when you accept them as part of the landscape- not just a hindrance to an otherwise pristine vista- they become a graphic contrast to jungly flora and gauzy clouds.

busted grill

2008-01-23T19:50:00.000-08:00

a small little piece of somebody's jaw turned up in the yard. rat? possum? coyote pup?

Sol LeWitt

2008-01-14T19:43:00.000-08:00

Sol LeWitt, OCD-mathematician- artist- extraordinaire.
the quotes below are his own, from the pages of this rare and rib- tickling catalog.
various cube installations. 1969- 76
cube structures based on nine modules. 1976- 77

cube structures based on five modules. 1971- 74

variations of incomplete open cubes. 1974
working drawing on left with detail below

"the most interesting characteristic of the cube is that it is relatively uninteresting. compared to any other three- dimensional form, the cube lacks any aggressive force, implies no motion, and is least emotive. therefore it is the best form to use as a basic unit for any more elaborate function, the grammatical device from which the work may proceed."
variations of incomplete open cubes. 1974 [structures, this time]

all single, double, triple and quadruple combinations of lines and color in one-, two-, three- and four- part combinations. 1970
left: lines connecting architectural points, two different installations. 1970

"the wall is understood as an absolute space, like the page of a book. one is public, the other private"

right: from the word(s) "art"; blue lines to four corners, green lines to four sides, and red lines between the words. 1972

"no matter where one looks in an urban setting, there are grids to be seen. whether decorative or functional, grids provide a kind of order. while traveling around doing wall drawings in many places, I found grids to photograph. each city made sewer covers, for instance, that while serving the same purpose are designed in a different way. it is a kind of art made without art in mind (I suppose)."
photo of central Manhattan without the area between the places where Sol LeWitt has lived: 115 East 34th Street, 185 Avenue C, 42 Montgomery Street and 117 Hester Street. 1977buried cube containing an object of importance but little value. 1968

gingerbread all over again

2008-01-07T12:34:00.000-08:00

in our neighborhood, beside historic route 110, tucked between lavanderias and dirt yards with shackled pit-bulls, is a bit of memory lane called Heritage Square.

a final home for just a few handsome relics of Los Angeles' shameful past as a hick farming town.
the home/ portfolio of an imaginative master wood-worker.this octagon house is a less convoluted precursor to Bucky Fuller's geodesic dome. while it's exterior is relatively sober, the interior was by far the most livable in terms of natural light, flow of traffic and the generous size of the rooms.
these houses were all built on brick foundations, with the houses just sitting on top- no re-bar, no cement. and even here in earthquake country, they've stayed in place just fine.just an impish little barn....this, the Perry residence, was built in 1876 in the nearby Boyle Heights neighborhood. on Wikipedia, I found this charming illustration of the 'hood at the time [click to enlarge]:
you should see it now!
that ever-so-slightly-more-dense cluster of building in the background is Los Angeles herself.
a lovely Union-Pacific railroad station.one reason people used to have freestanding wardrobes instead of closets was that they were taxed by the numbers of rooms and every closet added up. learn much more on Heritage Square's website!

my drink and my two step*

2007-12-31T20:24:00.000-08:00

adios 2007! as my grandma says: glad to see you come, glad to see you go.

*Cassidy

murray krimmas

2007-12-25T13:28:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas from east LA! it's a dogs life....

a hummingbird

2007-12-17T18:31:00.000-08:00

at least we have our health

2007-12-11T19:14:00.000-08:00

there’s a principle- maybe it’s the dark side of karma- that the more hope and anticipation you exude, the more you court divine antagonism. this is the principle that leads guileless newlyweds into the convenience store armed robbery that claims their lives; that concocts a gnarly car accident for the addict who has at last pulled himself together and away from temptation and is driving to reconcile with an estranged relative.
to a less fatal degree, this principle has reared its ugly mug at a certain long- suffering, trailer- dwelling couple who saw a glimmer of light at the end of their own tunnel and began to helplessly ooze that fate-tempting pheromone: hope. maybe somebody even foolishly posted certain predictions- time tested calamity bait- online. hiding in plain sight doesn’t work with Destiny. no, hope must be jealously guarded. at the first tickle of it, put on your burlap underwear and show the world nothing short of your best grimace.
days ago we were calculating how we might get into the house before Christmas and now we’re paralyzed from the neck down by red tape. we’ll be lucky to be out of the trailer by spring.
there’s an upside, of course, and it's not just the realization that God reads Wide Ruins. without The House demanding what’s left of our waning energy, we’ll be able to catch up on the many loose ends we've accumulated. long-neglected things like these stout caterpillars above my eyes that used to be eyebrows, or letters to Grandma or.... property taxes.

it's gonna be huge.

be dazzled

2007-12-03T19:09:00.000-08:00

getting ahead of myself, III

2007-11-28T18:51:00.000-08:00

past and present homes of Julianne-less-is-Moore, via Remodelista and The Slow Home.

pilgrim's progress

2007-11-27T20:30:00.000-08:00

oh dear, what a long and rigorous weekend.

we picked up Thanksgiving-in-a-box, just like the Pilgrims used to, and drove it to some friends' place. they have a nice big dining table, although, true, it doesn't transform into a bed with a flick of the wrist. like ours. ahem.

anyway, we needed the room because from this box....
sprung all this and more...
we carried on the frontier theme through the weekend, a bit more faithfully.

while my friends were having champagne brunches or creatively justifying the purchase of another pair of pumps, I rolled up my shirtsleeves and chiseled a few chips of detergent off the old block to do the laundry..
then we de-frosted the teeny freezer in the tiny fridge of our wee trailer....
I think we really brought a new integrity to the whole defrosting process. come correct!
who knew, there were rewards hiding in the permafrost..

trailer, for sale or rent*

2007-11-27T19:46:00.000-08:00

we didn’t want anything grand, just something cheap we could call home until the house was home. our tent was too flimsy, a yurt too ungainly, but the right little trailer could just do the trick.
and so it happened that around this time last year, we drove out to the valley to see a man about a rig. it was parked in front of a fluorescent-lit furniture store, on a Burbank block as hollow as the laugh track famously conceived there. we shuffled around the littered sidewalk, waiting for our man, eyeing the comedy club and psychic offices on the other side of the street.

naturally, he came out of the psychic’s. if he’d walked out of the comedy club we’d have really been discouraged.
by now, we’d made some educated generalizations about the kind of people who own recreational vehicles. like, those who believe they shouldn’t have to choose between The Wild and The Couch tend to also throw in enough cartons of Marlboros to get them there and back. thirty years on, the smell isn’t pretty. nor is the color.

the psychic’s vehicle had not only that nicotine glaze, but also a tangy dankness, possibly related to the spreading water marks on the walls and ceiling and surely not helped by the grizzled carpeting covering most every surface. it also featured another RV favorite- plastic made to look like wood. what wasn’t carpeted was sheathed in ‘wood- grain laminate’. these people know how to live.
I think we hoped from the beginning that we wouldn't have to pay money for this stinker, but were running out of time fast enough to have to entertain the idea. in this spirit, we posed some easy questions, each of which was met with stoic candor:

how’s she run?

[voice lowered] I gotta be completely honest with you…….she's great. never had any problems.

and how long have you had her?

I’m not gonna lie, my grandpa just drove her down here from Washington. he’s owned her for years.

was someone else living in here recently?

to tell the truth….. no. I’ll be totally honest with you….. no.

we didn’t so much as hint that the women’s clothes and toiletries about were fatally wounding his honorable reputation. and we didn’t even ask about the young man who, while we were getting schooled in honesty, kept retrieving stereo equipment from the rig, stashing it elsewhere and coming back for more.

we told him we’d get back to him, but, as we were dealing with a psychic, had no qualms about not meaning it. he knew.

of course, we eventually found a smoke-and vinyl- free covered wagon of our very own- just in the nick of time and off Mulholland Drive, of all the places. it was being sold by a British rocker who didn’t have the time he thought he would to fix it up.
we sweet- talked him then low- balled him and it’s been home ever since!

*King of the Road, by Roger Miller

Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-11-22T11:01:00.000-08:00

take a load off, have some mulled wine and a little of everything on the table. giving thanks is something many of us don't do often enough; so put your heart into it.

gratitude is a brilliant premise for a holiday, but the pilgrim myth it's tied to is a perfect example of history being written by the victors. after you've feasted and are fortified, when you find yourself immobilized by tryptophan or holiday traffic, you might take a moment to consider why the First Nations of this continent call today the Day of Mourning:

....these tribes cannot exist surrounded by our settlements and in continual contact with our citizens. They have neither the intelligence, the industry, the moral habits, nor the desire of improvement. They must necessarily yield to the force of circumstance and, ere long, disappear.

President Andrew Jackson, 1832

Behold my brothers, the spring has come; the earth has received the embraces of the sun and we shall soon see the results of that love!
Every seed is awakened and so is all animal life. It is through this mysterious power that we too have our being and we therefore yield to our neighbors, even our animal neighbors, the same right as ourselves to inhabit this land.
Yet hear me, people, we have now to deal with another race- small and feeble when our fathers first met them, but now great and overbearing. Strangely enough they have a mind to till the soil and the love of possession is like a disease with them. These people have made many rules that the rich may break, but the poor may not. They take tithes from the poor and weak to support the rich who rule. They claim this mother of ours, the earth, for their own and fence their neighbors away; they deface her with their building and their refuse. That nation is like a spring freshet that overruns its banks and destroys all who are in its path.
We cannot dwell side by side. Only seven years ago we made a treaty by which we were assured that the buffalo country should be left to us forever. Now they threaten to take that away from us. My brothers, shall we submit or shall we say to them; "First kill me before you take possession of my Fatherland...."

Sitting Bull [Tatanka Yotanka], 1877

you call this 'trailer- month'?!?

2007-11-21T17:47:00.000-08:00

so my plans for this month might have been a bit ambitious.

good news, though, we've been granted an extension! moving into the house has been postponed by the discovery that the back side of the downstairs- the part of the house most likely to slide down the 45º incline it sits by- DOESN'T HAVE A FOOTING!

you will have your trailer- month if it takes me all year...

location, location

2007-11-14T18:02:00.000-08:00

250 miles to the nearest post office; 100 miles to wood; 20 miles to water; 6 inches to hell. God bless our home! Gone to live with wife's folks.

sign on an empty cabin in the Texas Panhandle, circa 1880

wise guy

2007-11-13T15:59:00.000-08:00

finally, a picture of our neighborhood owl. not much, you say, but if you only know how he's eluded me, even going so low as to date my computer back to the 60s so that images of himself won't upload.

we see and hear him often, and in nearer, brighter, livelier circumstances. but this will have to do for now.

month twelve

2007-11-07T18:18:00.000-08:00

where did it come from, this..... 'November'?

it's an awfully big month for us, marking almost one full year of living in a recreational vehicle. this anniversary, along with the chill in the air, has got us playing the this-time-last-year game.

this time last year...

...we found the rickety little house that had already been dropped in escrow four times
...Ryan convinced me that this should be our home
...we found and purchased a trailer, vintage 1979
...we moved the trailer onto the property we hoped we would soon own
...we tricked our friends into a much bigger moving project than they'd imagined
...we moved three months worth of necessities into the trailer on the property that wasn't ours
...we got the house

whew. going back there still makes me a little dizzy.

even with everything we've accomplished in the past year, our first year of matrimonial heaven, it's not easy to appreciate in our current state: homeless. trailerful. we'll have knots agitating in our bellies until we have a roof over our heads... one that Ryan can fully stand up under would be awesome.

it seems that this month, though, our anniversary, has a respectable chance of also being our last of trailer living. or close to it.

and so, with all the affection we have for our little tin lizzy, I dub this Trailer Month at Wide Ruins. I miss it already....

a Halloween murder

2007-11-01T07:39:00.000-07:00

walking to the mailbox yesterday, Chupa-Cabrecita and I wandered into the thick of a great murder [also called an 'unkindness'] of crows or ravens.in spite of the date and the sinister reputation of these intelligent animals, they let us linger and enjoy the spectacle without so much as an attempt on any of our eyeballs.

double click for a much closer look.

I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go right now*

2007-10-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

when I got home from work Monday this ominous- but life-saving- warning was scrawled on the front door.
the arrow says 'big step'. no kidding....
just when you let yourself begin to fantasize about once again fondling the beloved books, clothing and other stuffs that have been buried in the garage for a year- just then the floor gets almost entirely torn out. never mind, it's for the best.

so for now the route to the loo will be following a slight detour.
I find it most invigorating in the middle of the night.
follow me:

exit trailer and navigate through the outdoor workshop.......
cut along the side of the house, minding the stray nails and sharp tools.
you did put on shoes, I hope......
climb the steps to the deck and high step over wood, buckets, & cetera......
step confidently across the balance beam joining the two sections of deck. if you're going to plummet to your death, it won't be as a coward!
put your right foot on the lumber and swing your left over the fiberglass.....
you are so close.....
there she is. the elusive object of your desire. hey, somebody left the seat up.
clamber through the window and tub and she's all yours....
and you don't have to go right now.

*that brilliant commercial for..... what? continence pills, I believe.

strange bedfellows

2007-10-24T07:45:00.000-07:00

Incidental Architecture from the west siiiiiide- where high rises and tile roofs get along not unlike imitation breasts and organic t-shirts.

recollecting

2007-10-23T18:33:00.001-07:00

remember when you'd drive up to the house and the first thing you'd see- after the impressive piles of debris- was those aluminum windows and etched pantry doors?

of course, the garbage is still there.....
remember how those windows [and, okay, maybe the trailer, too. but that's home, man] made the front of the house look sort of pitiful?

do you remember when you'd walk in the front door and be face to face with the closet door? and the fake brick chimney with those sliding-glass doors just beyond?

put it all behind you....
one year later and we've nearly got ourselves a blank slate.

cement is no match

2007-10-18T18:24:00.000-07:00

grass is good for you

2007-10-13T17:00:00.001-07:00

Pobrecita and I walked to the park the other day.
turns out, she's fond of grass...

it also turns out she's part kangaroo...
and part moray eel...

getting ahead of myself, again

2007-10-11T18:48:00.000-07:00

I stopped asking Ryan about schedules or estimated completion dates once it became clear that his optimistic answers could crush my pragmatic heart. a month goes by awfully slow when you were told a week. the only true answer is the simplest- that it won't be done until it's done.

still, at our recent clip, 'done' is in the air [enough to move in, I mean. 'done' has never been more relative].

so I'm getting only a little bit ahead of myself with these inspiring images, almost all torn from the spines of Elle Decoration UK

a blind delegation*

2007-10-11T08:26:00.000-07:00

my mind's been bubbling over with questions since coming across this shuttle in the parking lot one morning. it truly stopped me in my tracks and I had to turn myself around and get a photo.

why 'aging'? everybody's aging. might it be some retort to the Alice Cooper song? the elderly are not often fond of Alice Cooper. why is it a department? who runs this place? and why the chipper logo? to break passersby in gently to the thought of 'aging' and 'Los Angeles' sharing the same air? or to encourage the elderly to get into the shuttle already- actually a mobile gas chamber? organized by heartless starlets who don't want to share the Good Roles with any hags over 35?

well, don't bother Googling it. it's a major let-down.

*from the Alice Cooper song in question

todo termina

2007-10-08T21:43:00.000-07:00

color palettes

2007-10-08T19:47:00.001-07:00

stimuli

just because you're paranoid....

2007-10-03T20:27:00.001-07:00

... doesn't mean you're not being watched

going on forever

2007-10-03T19:18:00.001-07:00

strangers keep telling me I look tired. they're right, I do. I have a secret weapon, though. it's not concealer, it's the last few lines of Leonard Cohen's How To Speak Poetry:

"Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you're tired. You look like you could go on forever."

let's hope! forever might be exactly how long this will take.

I won't bore you with bathroom tragedies until I can also reward you with glorious proof of the end result. suffice to say that we've not had a bathtub, shower or sink since I left for Vegas about a month ago. we're irritated and grimy. and tired. but we're not giving in.

all the same, there's been impressive progress. with no architectural style to speak of, we realized early that the most dramatic improvement we could make- beyond the superficial things like tearing out grisly, old linoleum and scraping sparkly popcorn off the ceiling- would be to replace the cheap windows and sliding glass doors with salvaged antiques.

sure enough, our homely home has practically grown cheekbones over the past couple weeks.

the bathtub will go right in front of this window.....
the office. with a million-dollar view of the trailer...

each window or door that opens, opens aaaaall the way out.
bring on the breeze, bring on the bugs.....
the paned windows have wavy glass [and vintage security stickers that aren't going anywhere] and my not-so-talented husband made the blanks. with his saw, chisel and bare hands.

we did away with the misleading pantry doors [that's no pantry out there] in favor of this, somewhat more cohesive, set.......

here's our bedroom just a month or so ago. a bit discouraging....

until we replaced the sliding glass doors with these....

and the little window with these....
I'm all ready to move in, but there's still walls, floors and, oh yes, the other half of the house to go.
and the small matter of a bathtub.

you see?

2007-10-03T19:12:00.000-07:00

fiberglass.....and sawdust....
she's a glutton for punishment. must be why we get along so well.

Pobrecita

2007-10-01T19:29:00.000-07:00

we need another 'to do' like we need to have our water accidentally turned off for a week [again]. like we need more ants [everywhere]. or like we need to have Ryan called to jury duty [oh, it's all true].

being compassionate listeners, the powers that be sent us this little flea bag....
she nests in fiberglass we were going to reuse, chews up paint rollers, pees on the neighbor's stoop- Ryan even caught her trying to make off with his measuring tape.

but she's cuter to come home to than a stiff drink.

very auspicious

2007-09-27T19:48:00.001-07:00

let the water hold me down*

2007-09-26T19:37:00.000-07:00

there was, I'm so glad to report, a new and working INDOOR toilet before the rains blew into Los Angeles this past weekend.
for the first time in what's gotta be nearly a year, we had a proper storm. the city looks and feels cleaner and brighter, if a bit slippery. it sounded like a hurricane on the roof of our tin can- delightful even in spite of some concern for the water-tightness of all our material posessions packed into the garage.

with our hilly dirt road turned to mud it was going to be tricky to keep our shower dates in town so we used the occasion to break in the claw foot tub we purchased a year ago, filling it up with buckets. we wanted to be historically accurate...

from this drafty vantage point we could relax and ruminate on how far we've come [that's our metamorphosing bathroom with NEW TOILET to the left]...

and how far yet to go [battened down against the rain, it does look a little worse than it is]...

alright, it wasn't so relaxing. not mysteriously, I've had this drifting in and out of my head since:

"And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!

"Letting the days go by; let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by; water flowing underground
Into the blue again; after the moneys gone
Once in a lifetime; water flowing underground."

*Once in a Lifetime by Talking Heads

this show we got after the rain, thank goodness, let us forget everything else...

a drop in the bucket

2007-09-24T20:04:00.000-07:00

there was nothing like this awaiting my return from the Mauve Mirage, but I'd been warned. and after a week of relative luxury I felt prepared for its opposite.

as it turns out, the issue was privacy more than.... readiness. no shower + no toilet + no....er, 'hose' doesn't add up.
and our neighbors have put up with so much already.

soon as I'd freshened my suitcase and gotten a quick 'before' photo of the bathroom I was back at Bob Hope International Airport.
I chose the straightest course to hygiene and comfort; home to Seattle.

once there, I headed for the woods.
the desert is wonderful, but nothing in the world sets me straight like all this green. once you're in it, the air turns sweet and bright and smells of blackberries. nothing else like it....

also sharpened the saw some with a very quick tour of the new Olympic Sculpture Park. it's in a stunning location, right on the water, adjacent to a waterfront park. there's so much that I didn't get to see and am already planning my next visit.

Roxy Paine's tree made of steel pipes. the branches alone approach 5,000 pounds:

Calder's Eagle with a complementary and opportune fireboat:

and a little incidental architecture to round things out:

refreshed, I returned home, ready to answer nature's call however I must.
a lot can change in just three days...

I haven't the Vegas idea

2007-09-22T18:21:00.000-07:00

the bit of the city that I got to explore- we stayed at the New York, New York hotel and casino on the strip and our days were spent deep within the Las Vegas Convention Center- kept me in open-mouthed awe.

deprived, for most of the day, of natural light and natural air, we were essentially submerged. even roaming 'outdoors' in the evenings, I felt like a deep-sea diver who'd drifted upon Atlantis. and the multitudes of tight-faced mummies willfully Having A Good Time only amplified the existential jolt.

in the belly of one tremendous casino, right in its jackpot jungle, there is something called the Lion Habitat. look closely- those are two real lions in there.....

like the paying customers, they spend their days in an entirely artificial habitat [those trees and rocks, even, are phony] with bright lights flashing and something important just out of grasp.....

only they get to do it for free!

lucky beasts.

the population here has doubled every 10 years since 1940.
I'd like to be the first to welcome you to the future.

getting ahead of myself

2007-09-20T19:36:00.000-07:00

when a design book is older than you are and still brilliant [and written by a knight, even], it's probably worth the $10 on ebay.
big ups Sir Terence.
The House Book; Terence Conran, 1976 [first US printing]

the atrium, downtown

2007-09-18T21:47:00.000-07:00

what happens in trade shows stays in trade shows

2007-09-06T09:14:00.000-07:00

I'm off now for a delirious week of not one, but two of my favorite things: trade shows and Las Vegas!!! we'll even be staying at the New York, New York Hotel and Casino, which promises to make the trade show experience all the more familiar. of course, when in NY I never stay anywhere but Pesty's Flatbush Bed and Breakfast......

oh, but every silver lining has its cloud and the cloud here is that while I'm living it up in the land of milk and horny I'll be missing Pearl Haggard's first solo show since the one in London I couldn't quite make it to. I invited myself to a private preview, though, and can tell you that this show is not to be missed. as ever, Pearl's elephantine paintings are glutted with colors, textures and details that can only be appreciated in person. so go.

here at the compound, it seems the bathroom will be gutted by the time I board the plane and I'm as excited as you to see what changes occur in my absence. I'm even more excited then you to see if, when I get back, there will be a toilet or a bucket!

there's my ride.....

acropolis now

2007-09-05T22:21:00.000-07:00

Acropolis (Gr. acron, edge + polis, city) literally means the edge of a town or a high city. For purposes of defense, early settlers naturally chose elevated ground, frequently a hill with precipitous sides.at our own elevated settlement, much has happened since we left off. it does look post-acropolistic around here, but don't be deceived. the acropolis is nigh.

my clever husband found- again, thanks to the internet- a kit for building a vaulted ceiling and we're going for it, for the kitchen/ dining room addition, even though the rest of the ceilings in the house will be flat. I'll let you know how that works.

the most important element of a vaulted ceiling, of course, wasn't included in the kit: the lumber. so Ryan drove all over Southern California and gradually assembled the motley crew of salvaged beams and timber needed for the job.

bashful Riccardo here will demonstrate how the brackets from the kit, fitted onto a beam, will hold up our future ceiling.....
don't look at the camera, Riccardo.....
bless his heart.
I found this under the husband's bookmarks.
'trusses'.... should I be concerned?
here's that same husband lifting our blue-ribbon beam, all by himself......

okay, no.

that puny beam, matter of fact, took six men to lift into place. it measures 12" x 7" x 30 feet and was ours for all of $100. if that doesn't impress you, I give up.
after some framing, the purlins went up [unforeseen bonus: purlins make for very enjoyable, 80's style photography].....

can't imagine getting tired of morning light like this anytime soon......here you can see where Ryan's addition meets Ryan's wall. I know, I married up...

and then..... A CEILING! this only happened yesterday and we're absolutely smitten....

we're going to keep the underside bare, just as it is. they don't sell character like this at your home improvement superstore...for below our lovely new ceiling, this lovely hulk of a gas cooker, with built in double- griddle there on the left. $375 on craig's list, folks. and now you're impressed.

my, what a big moon we have

2007-09-05T20:16:00.000-07:00

this was a broadway-set moon, something from the twenties. huuuuge. ginormous.
a photo can't do it justice, but clicking the image to enlarge it helps.
those little toothpick Italian Cypress' are easily 40' tall.

fever

2007-09-03T20:14:00.000-07:00

is it hot enough for you? no, I don't want to hear it.

because the odds are pretty good that it's a lot hotter in our air-unconditioned, 17' tin can than it is in your home, unless, maybe, your home is a trailer in the Valley.
then I'll be the one shutting up.

'til then, MAN is it hot. in the past week the wind has quit us and the setting of the sun has ceased to have any sort of cooling affect on our stagnant air. I feel suspended in hot aspic. you see? warm.

in search of relief we joined the perspiring masses yesterday at the Laemmle theater in Pasadena, savoring a docu-double-feature of Manda Bala and then The 11th Hour- and the air-conditioning that comes free with admission.

what a double feature it was. Manda Bala [Send A Bullet] is a catchy little piece about Sao Paulo and how the rich there lose ears on an almost daily basis. I would have liked to learn more, but the topic is so broad that I'll happily settle for having my curiosity piqued.

and The 11th Hour......not only a vast topic, but also the promise of a happy ending as reward for sitting through the scary parts. I'd sworn off documentaries for the past couple years- there's only so far a person can go with the facts- and this was a welcome refresher course in the misadventures of capitalism and the repercussions of such misadventures. the optimistic promise is that with the right technology we can right our course AND continue living more or less as we do, forever- ever. seems too slight. and, sure enough, a very different bottom line was there for those prepared to hear it: there's just too many of us. one expert let it drop that, sustainably, our Earth can only support half- to- one billion people.

uh oh.

with close to 7 billion people now living here unsustainably, I'm afraid that means quite a bit of mayhem. even if the figures were off and the planet can support, oh, 4 billion people, 3 billion have still got to go.

so I walked back out into the nuclear heat with the reminder that 'happy' and 'ending' are both subjective terms- and that a world without humans might very well be the happiest kind of all.

hey, don't get nervous- surely this is the heat talking.
tomorrow everything will be a whole lot cooler.

weekend at a glance

2007-08-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

big busyness at work and the compound are leaving me with no time to write. here, instead, are a few photos from a hectic, but spectacular weekend:

fire under the bridge:
somebody had trouble getting out of the garbage:
one of our hawks:

homesteady on the range

2007-08-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

the exterior landscape

2007-08-18T14:25:00.000-07:00

Incidental Architecture reveals itself only after you [or I] stop disdaining Los Angeles' absurd incongruities and begin delighting in them [took me more than a few years].

geometries align and, from out of the smog, amusingly perverse juxtapositions appear on the horizon.

we've got big walls

2007-08-15T20:29:00.000-07:00

back to Ryan's amazing wall project!
after two perfectly sweltering weeks, the cement is done curing and the forms come off...they're beautiful. three feet wide at the base, tapering to about half that at the top, they're also incredibly sturdy. we could build up and up and up.....

we're in with the outhouse

2007-08-14T12:40:00.000-07:00

this is where all the magic happens.
with no door and a wall missing, it better be magic.
much of our living goes on in our cozy 17' trailer [and in August, in Los Angeles, 'cozy' isn't the place to be], but we use these gleaming facilities for the other stuff, scuttling from the trailer to the house. let me show you how it works.

or how it doesn't work, in the case of that tub you see. it'll happily hold water from elsewhere, but where do we get water, dear Henry, dear Henry? for our first four, maybe five months [you'll take years off your life paying too close attention] on the homestead there was no hot water but what we boiled ourselves. we scheduled showers at friends' places, but on a few occasions, when time was precious, had to resort to more nimble, modern methods.
the first such instance was Oscar night, we were expected at a party and I was... begrimed. with both cars busted there was no way to dash out for a quick one and we didn't want to invent a new offense by asking our host and hostess if we might use their powder room, only to emerge 30 minutes later with wet hair and ruddy cheeks.

instead, we loaded up the two [out of three] working burners in the trailer with the biggest pans of water that would fit, and fired up the camp stove with another pot full. the garden hose was run from the yard to the tub and once the water on the burners started to roil, we added it to the tub to warm the bleak hose water. it worked...... but our unsophisticated timing made for more shivering than simmering. still, we scrambled down the hill, caught the train to Silverlake and sat, disoriented, through the acute artifice of the 79th annual Academy Awards. we'd traveled a century or two and were breathless.

after a while we felt ready for the inevitable leap into the twentieth century and got this handsome and energy efficient tank-less water heater, hardly bigger than a Scrabble board. now, instead of coming from outside, our bath water comes from the sink, like everybody else's. to celebrate, we bought the bathroom its own hose.
we were still wrestling the hose onto the sink's faucet to bathe and off again to wash our hands or brush our teeth until another feat of modern technology sauntered on into our lives and...
our waters were parted like the Red Sea.
now one of us can brush our teeth, even while the other is running water from the hose.....
into the tub [plugged with that there bandanna].

but, all good things must come to an end and before long we'll be replacing the useless tub with the claw foot that's in the front yard, that little prison window with this lanky one.....
and those floors with something more like this:

I wonder how we'll manage.

exceptions _ rule

2007-08-13T16:45:00.000-07:00

more billboards like this one, please.

just beside the grid

2007-08-10T16:25:00.000-07:00

our homestead is near the end of a dry little peninsula, down half a mile of bumpy, dusty road made impassable on windy days by honest-to-gosh tumbleweeds. we share this lawless territory with a handful of characters as well as wild beasts the likes of owls, rabbits, raccoons, hummingbirds, hawks, lizards, feral cats, and at least one large den of operatic coyotes.we've moved in to a genuine eco-system, a microcosm, which is why even now it boggles my mind to remember that our little finger of dirt happens to be in Los Angeles proper and that when we talk about going 'into town' for provisions we mean the mother of urban sprawl.

blue grey

2007-08-10T16:04:00.001-07:00

downtown from our deck

back in the dirt

2007-08-08T12:02:00.001-07:00

there's some reason we got Rick Coralles' old house.
a man who would install his television in the wall [its back end's hidden in a closet].....
or, say, etched- glass pantry doors in a bedroom wall......
plaster over one set of stairs and replace them with a spiral staircase of his own making....
or turn his back porch into a deck and then the deck into a room.....

....this was a man acquainted with the do-it-your-damn-self values that Ryan and I hold dear.
[Google "rick coralles" to learn how far beyond home-improvementshis interests went]
still, many of Rick's innovations weren't aging well and there were, yes, certain aesthetic differences to consider, too.

so. with the retaining walls done work began on enormous, slow, dirty project #2:

- deconstruct Rick's rickety addition, while salvaging the french glass doors and as much lumber as possible

-excavate the ground below the addition to create a bit of basement and then a footing for a proper foundation

-weave in re-bar, build molds and pour a cement foundation and walls

what Rick didn't know [or care] about construction he made up for with nails, screws and more nails. taking down the addition without damaging the parts was, 'like trying to take apart someone's nightmare', said Ryan.

let the digging begin. here it is at 4 or 5 feet.

the addition's gone, but it left a scar. this would be the original back side and porch of the house.

a few weeks later, we've got a basement hole with a good 8 feet of clearance, plus another foot and a half for the footing. Rick's addition went right on up to the neighbors property [she says, fondly, 'I thought he was just building a deck; then he went and put a roof on it'].
ours will be less broad; several feet shy of the property line.
the earth under us breaks off into these geometric chunks [like the fossil below]. with all the digging going on, we've got enough for 'paving' much of the backyard.re-bar goes up.....
forms are built around it.....
and finally, the much-anticipated cement truck makes its way down our dirt road....
and parks alongside the trailer, where I was banished and obediently NOT offering any suggestions at all.
the pump snaked from the road and started chugging cement into the forms.
after months of preparation the cement was over in a few short hours. Ryan and Ruben worked fast to make sure that every surface remained level....

and now, there's nothing left to do but wait. two weeks it takes, for the walls to cure. then the forms come off and we all admire Ryan's first-ever attempt at pouring-your-own foundation!
and THEN.....
re-build the addition.

sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment*

2007-08-07T19:00:00.000-07:00

the honeymooners in this photo had no idea what kind of year was lurking ahead of them. the poor fools wanted nothing more than to recuperate from the mad year before, catch their breath and settle peacefully into married life.

ah, but there are still a few days until the anniversary of our eviction.
older and wiser, we celebrated our paper anniversary this weekend by hurling ourselves out into our favorite place, origin of bewilderment- the wilderness.
there's not much better for the down and out spirit than to confront the infinite and the ancient and that's what we went looking for.
we found it.
how many generations does it take for a tree to swallow a boulder?
and we're feeling much better now.
*Rumi