Aurora Dallas

Posted on October 21, 2013 by Bill Chance

I first heard about Aurora last time it happened, but was out of town that weekend and couldn’t make it. Then, on the way to a play at the Wyly theater, I saw a preview of Aurora – specifically an installation of giant red floating jellyfish.

So, as Aurora 2013 approached, I circled my calendar. Then, I found that Bike Friendly Cedars, along with other Dallas cycling groups, had a a ride planned. The idea was to put lights on your bicycle, then meet up at Main Street Gardens Park and ride down together.

The last few weeks have been very busy and stressful for me and I didn’t have time (or money) to properly decorate my bike. This sort of thing is, especially right now, beyond my abilities or resources. It was stressing me out a little bit. The only thing I could do is to go to the Dollar Store with a five and a one clutched in my sweaty fist. I bought a couple LED lightsabers, a little lighted pumpkin, and some packages of glowy bracelets.

I gathered up everything in my house with a battery powered light and roll of duct tape, and, after work rode down to Lee Harvey’s – where I taped everything to my bike in a pretty much random fashion. I felt like an idiot – but it worked. Especially the lightsabers. I might try and find a way to more permanently hold those on my bike – they would be useful to increase the visibility for night rides.

Nothing like big, glowing, flashing, green cylinders to get the attention of motorists after dark.

Lighted Bicycles at Aurora Ciclovia

Everybody met up and we set off in a glowing, flashing mass – down around downtown
Dallas, into Deep Ellum, then back into the Arts District.

I was immediately surprised and shocked by the crowds. The original idea was to ride through Aurora as a group, but the streets were packed with thick throngs of people and we were immediately split up. I locked my bike up and began to explore.

Aurora was amazing. I kept thinking, “Is this really Dallas?” There were hundreds of artists and installations covering the entire spectrum spread across the vast area from One Arts Plaza, down Flora Street past and including the concert halls and museums, across to Klyde Warren Park and even down towards the Perot. That’s about two square miles of area.

Aurora Dallas 2013

Klyde Warren Park, Aurora Dallas 2013

Aurora Dallas 2013

Not all the exhibits were big – tiny men climbing a column at the Symphony Hall

The crowd was huge. I was so glad I had ridden in on a bike and had a DART pass in my pocket. People were calling in on cell phones – the traffic across the city was at a standstill and there was no parking to be found anywhere.

I spent hours walking around. There is no way to see even a fraction of everything that was offered up, but there were a few items I really wanted to take in.

First, the dancers that I had seen at the Patio Sessions on Thursday were performing on a little grass patch between the Opera House and the Symphony Hall. Through dumb luck I arrived a couple minutes before they started and talked to a parent of one – I told him of their enthusiasm and skill that I had seen the evening before.

The description of their performance:

Ruddy Udder Dance by Claire Ashley
This performance uses a large-scale, painted inflatable sculpture as a prop worn by twelve dancers. A choreographed sequence unfolds. Ashley is interested in both the high-brow aesthetic pleasure found in the painterly abstraction and monumentality of the object itself, and the absurdly low-brow, playful, high-energy, ecstatic dancing experience and pop culture references that ensue as the object moves in space. Directed by Linda James and Kate Walker and performed by the Repertory Dance Company II from Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts.

Dancers and Inflatable Cow.

The dancers were arranged as the “feet” or maybe the “udders” of a stylized giant inflatable cow-balloon and danced to a country music tune – throwing the enormous bovine around as handlers held guy ropes and a bank of black lights made the scene glow. It was pretty cool.

Next, I wanted to see the Wyly Theater. I had seen a preview and knew I had to check out the real thing. Several banks of incredibly powerful video projectors were trained on the wall of the Borg Cube – shaped Wyly. The genius is that the program started with an image of the Wyly projected on itself, which then was moved, shifted, deconstructed, and modified until the thing was transformed into a giant 2001-style cube monolith – “It’s full of Stars.”

I found a spot and sat and watched the cycle. Then I realized that viewing it at an oblique angle was even better, so I watched it again. Really cool stuff.

Finally, I wanted to see something inside the Dallas City Performance Hall. Shane Pennington is a local artist that I have been a huge fan of ever since I spent a few days going down to the arts district to watch his ice sculptural exhibition melt into nothingness, releasing the stones contained within. I had read about the screen, a transparent curtain, he made for the Performance Hall – with consists of a grid of computer controlled lights that illustrate shapes moving across the mouth of the theater.

Inside the theater they had the screen up and running. People walking, riding bikes, or pushing carts moved across the screen in a ghostly crowd. Behind the screen a jazz trio performed retro music – a beautiful contrast to the high-tech images they were immersed in.

Shane Pennington’s screen inside the Dallas City Performance Hall, with Jazz Trio.

Midnight approached, and I had to leave – I was a long way from home and I didn’t want to miss the last train.

I did have one last discovery. I didn’t do enough research before Aurora about the nature of the Ciclovia that I was a part of. I didn’t realize that the lighted bike ride was actually a part of the Aurora itself and the ride even had a plaque that spelled that out.

Seeing Aurora, I wondered what it would be like… how cool would that be?.. to actually be a part of it – to be an artist in the event itself, no matter how small or insignificant. Until I found that plaque, I didn’t realize that for the small effort of six bucks and a trip to the dollar store – I was one.

Bike Friendly Cedars and Aurora Ciclovia

Aurora Dallas 2013

The reflecting pool by the Winspear. Aurora Dallas 2013

What I learned this week, October 18, 2013

Posted on October 18, 2013 by Bill Chance

5 Things Super Successful People Do Before 8 AM

The fantastic films of Piotr Kamler

TRAILS: THE BEST KEPT SECRET IN DALLAS

The last photograph in the article – the one labeled, “Trail System in Richardson, Texas” was taken right behind my house. One reason we bought the place was because the trail was scheduled to go in (though it took a lot longer than promised). Now, I rarely ride my bike on the trail – it is so popular with families and, especially, people walking dogs on a leash, that I feel safer on the street.

Your “Oh, wow!” for the day: Janet Echelman’s glorious suspended sculptures float over cities across the globe.

Deep in the heart of Texas: Photographers capture stunning series of pictures that show 1970s life in the Lone Star state

I found the National Archives collection of photographs on Flickr a while back while looking for copyright-free images to use in practicing with digital image software. There is some really interesting stuff in here.

You can read about the project here.

The US National Archives Photostream on Flickr It may be more useful Divided into Sets.

Examples that I like:

Scott Adams’ Secret of Success: Failure

Your Guide to the 106 New Works of Public Art You Can See in Dallas This Weekend

I am really excited about Aurora tonight in the Arts District.

Red Jellyfish, from the Aurora Preview

AURORA

The light festival is responsible for 86 of the new public art pieces, which will be literally everywhere in the Arts District and at Klyde Warren Park on October 18. Rather than list them out individually, here’s a nifty interactive map to guide you through the exhibition, and here is a complete list of artists and works.

NASHER XCHANGE

Here are the artists and the locations of the work, all of which will officially open this Saturday, Oct. 19. Click on the links to find out more about the individual projects.

Music (Everything I know I learned from the day my son was born) by Alfredo Jaar at the Nasher Scupture Center

Moore to the point by Rachel Harrison at Dallas City Hall

Flock in Space by Ruben Ochoa at the Trinity River Audubon Center

Black & Blue, Cultural Oasis in the Hills by Vicki Meek at Paul Quinn College

Buried House by Lara Almarcegui at 2226 Exeter Ave in Oak Cliff Gardens in Oak Cliff

Fountainhead by Charles Long at NorthPark Center

X by Liz Larner at the University of Texas at Dallas

Trans.lation: Vickery Meadow by Rick Lowe at Ridgecrest Rd. in Vickery Meadow

CURTAINS by Good/Bad Art Collective at Bryan Tower, 2001 Bryan St. – Space will be open from 2-10 p.m.

dear sunset by Ugo Rondinone at Fish Trap Lake

[For more on Lowe’s Socially Engaged Art piece for Vickery Meadow, go here.]

What I learned this week, October 11, 2013

Posted on October 11, 2013 by Bill Chance

Revealed: How Gaudi’s Barcelona cathedral will finally look on completion in 2026… 144 years after building started

This amazes me to no end. Seeing the Sagrada Familia is something I want to do before I die… now I want to live long enough to see it finished.

I had better start taking care of myself.

50 People On ‘The Most Intellectual Joke I Know’

It’s hard to pick a favorite one…. maybe:

Q: What does the “B” in Benoit B. Mandelbrot stand for?

A: Benoit B. Mandelbrot.

I’ve had a small fascination with the icons marked on shipping crates… especially ones with art in them.

I always find this blog from the Dallas Museum of Art interesting

Uncrated

There are a lot of good things on this earth, but there are few things better than this:

Temptress

Congratulations to Alice Munro. She was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature this week.

I’ve always said she is the unquestioned master of the short story. Glad to see someone working exclusively in the underrated form and genre of the literatry short story (pretty much) get this recognition. The only problem with reading Munro, as a short story writer, is that when you finish one of hers you realize that you will never be that good – that she has done something you will never be able to pull off.

There’s a new Pynchon novel out, Bleeding Edge. I’m not as excited as I have been in the past… (I have a lot to read) but still… I have to go read it.

Pynchon’s Mrs. Dalloway

Malcolm Gladwell has a new book out: David and Goliath

Excellent talk by him here: Malcolm Gladwell discusses tokens, pariahs, and pioneers

INTERVIEW: WHY DO MOTORISTS GET SO ANGRY AT CYCLISTS?

Bicycle Brewery Tour

Posted on October 9, 2013 by Bill Chance

“Good people drink good beer.”
—-Hunter S Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Back in February I went on a bike ride organized by Bike Friendly Oak Cliff that went from Klyde Warren Park to a couple of local breweries. It was a blast and a lot of fun and I was really looking forward to the second edition which was scheduled for last Saturday. This one, The Craft and Growler Bicycle Brewery Tour was more ambitious – five scheduled stops across the city.

I had a few doubts when I woke up Saturday morning. After my nighttime ride the night before to the video production on the Omni Hotel and the fireworks on Reunion Tower a powerful cold front had blown through North Texas. There was rain predicted and a cold spitting wind was cutting across the land. Still, I didn’t want to wimp out so I packed my rain gear onto my commuter bike and set out.

“right’ i said. ‘but first, we need the car. and after that, the cocaine. and then the tape recorder, for special music, and some acapulco shirts.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

I have been enjoying the idea of riding completely carless – leaving my garage on my bicycle alone. Since the city is too large for my weak biking skills and so much interesting riding is in distant neighborhoods I utilize the DART train. The Arapaho Station is two miles from my house – which is a nice test ride… if my bike is having mechanical problems I’ll know it before I get too far from home.

The last few rides I have made the mistake of being a minute late – seeing the train pull out as I’m buying my ticket. One minute tardy turns into twenty minutes late as I have to wait for the next train. I didn’t want this to happen again so I rode hard into the wind and caught the early train. Because of this, I arrived at Main Street Garden Park an hour ahead of time… I was the first one there.

For a few minutes I wondered if nobody would show… it was cold, windy and sprinkling. But soon enough, some folks I knew came riding up and then, more and more. By the starting time there were… I would guess close to a hundred riders.

“Turn the goddam music up! My heart feels like an alligator!”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

At Main Street Garden Park

We set out on the familiar route down Main through Deep Ellum then along Exhibition to the Fair Park area and Craft and Growler.

If you don’t know, a growler is a container – usually glass – that holds fresh keg beer. It’s a great way to buy local brews. Craft and Growler (I’ll write an entry on this place soon – it deserves its own) has thirty taps with mostly local brews – specially adapted for growler filling, though they will also sell you a glass or a flight of samples. It’s a great place.

I have bought a stainless steel vacuum growler – especially for bicycling. It will keep liquid cold (or hot) for a day or so and is nice and strong. I have already used it to carry ice water for bike rides on hot days. I found an old bag that used to carry an ancient Colorado Tape Backup (250 Megabytes!) and hooked it up like a pannier – the growler and two plastic glasses fit inside perfectly. At Craft and Growler I bought a glass and a growler full of The Chosen One toasted Coconut Ale from 903 Brewers in Sherman… and the day was on.

“We can’t stop here, this is bat country!”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Bicycles outside Craft and Growler, Fair Park, Dallas, Texas

After a lot of fun at Craft and Growler, everyone piled back on their bikes and rode the short distance to the Deep Ellum Brewing Company. They were having their Saturday tour, which is always a blast. I had forgotten how good their Double Brown Stout was.

There are so many things in life – things that you are really looking forward to with great, anxious expectation. It always turns out to be a disappointment. Nothing is ever as good as you think it is going to be. Except good craft beer.

It is even better.

“Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives… and to the “good life”, whatever it is and wherever it happens to be.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman

Live Music at Deep Ellum Brewing Company

The crowd at Deep Ellum Brewing Company, Dallas, Texas

“The highways are crowded with people who drive as if their sole purpose in getting behind the wheel is to avenge every wrong done them by man, beast or fate. The only thing that keeps them in line is their fear of death, jail and lawsuits.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels

Then, it was decided that it would be a good idea for everyone to get something to eat, so we rode to Klyde Warren park and the food trucks there. After food, we kept riding on down to the design district and Community Beer Company.

Tour at Community Beer Company

The tour there was interesting. One of their big fermentation vats was going strong – a vent hose ran into a drum of liquid which was bubbling and foaming like crazy. The power of yeast…. Community has a Mosaic IPA – one of the best of the local IPAs. It was recommended to me by a Community brewmaster at the Alamo Draft House movie party, and he wasn’t wrong.

It was time to move on and the brave souls that were still going rode off across the Trinity River on the Commerce Street Bridge to Four Corners Brewery in West Dallas.

“I was not proud of what I had learned but I never doubted that it was worth knowing.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, The Rum Diary

My commuter bike outside Four Corners Brewery

Outside Four Corners Brewery

Leaving Four Corners Brewery, with downtown Dallas, and the Margaret Hunt Hill bridge in the background.

I love their branding, which is based on the Loteria, the Mexican Bingo Game. I had a Red’s Roja… and it was good.

“We must ride this strange torpedo out until the end.”
—-Hunter S Thompson

By now it was getting late in the day, but we had been lucky with the weather. Cold and windy, but nothing other than sprinkles. A lot of folks had given up and I was getting tired, but I wanted to get to the sixth, and last, stop. It was a vacant storefront a block down from the Texas Theater on Jefferson Street. It will be a small brewpub – to be called The Small Brewpub. I’m really enthusiastic about the renaissance of Oak Cliff – the most beautiful and interesting part of the city – and wanted to support a new business in this area.

Small Brewpub, Oak Cliff, Dallas, Texas

Looking forward to an opening. I’ll keep y’all informed.

“No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride…and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well…maybe chalk it off to forced conscious expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten.”
—-Hunter S Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

People that go on bike rides like this are a very diverse bunch… but everybody gets along. The nice thing is that everyone has something in common – bicycles and, today, beer. It makes it easy to talk to complete strangers like they were your best friends. By the end of this ride, of course, all the folk were especially friendly, relaxed, and in a good mood. Five brewery stops will do that.

“Jesus! Did I SAY that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me? I glanced over at my attorney, but he seemed oblivious…”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Now it was time to go home. The sun was setting and, finally, the storm blew in and the skies opened up.

I have always wanted a Gore-Tex rain jacket but can’t afford one. One day last winter, though, I found a nice Eddie Bauer Gore-Tex shell at Goodwill for six dollars. It had a hole burned in the front – it must have been a real outdoorsman because the hole was right where you hold your campfire-heated Sierra Cup – and we sewed a patch over the spot. It looks like hell – but I guarantee that Gore-Tex stuff is a lifesaver when you have to ride a bike across Dallas in the dark, in cold and pouring rain. It’s amazing how it can be wet on the outside, yet dry and toasty on the inside even when you are sweating up a steep hill.

A month ago, I was able to figure out how to install a set of fenders on my new commuter bike. I was glad about that – it protected me from water thrown up from the street. Sure, I was wet from the rain – but there is a big difference between the water that comes down from the sky and the water that comes up from below.

We rode across the Jefferson Street Viaduct. Screaming down the steep back side in the storm was a surreal, fun, and slightly scary adventure. I turned off at the Union Station and caught the DART train back to Richardson.

I had the car to myself as the train worked its way through downtown. I felt ridiculous – an old fat man, soaking wet, sitting there at night holding a bicycle which I hung from one of the bike hooks in the roof of the car. I am, after all, the least cool person on the planet. The car was quiet and empty, until we reached the Arts District Station, where a huge crowd going home from the Texas State Fair was waiting.

I sat watching them fighting through the doors of the train like a crowd of desperate, rabid lemmings afraid the sea will dry up before they get to the cliff edge. I will never forget the near-panicked looks in their eyes. It’s a commuter train! Chill! You’ll get home!

An extended family crowded in around me, the mother shared my bench (I would have given up my seat, but I was sort of trapped back there between the crowd and my hanging bike). We talked about the fair and about my bicycle. I don’t want to be too critical – they were very nice people and I have no reason to criticize them. …but they had bought six VitaMix machines. They piled the big cardboard cases carrying the powerful blenders in the aisle. A low end VitaMix costs what? About four hundred dollars? They had at least two and a half thousand dollars of kitchen equipment on that train.

They complimented me on my bike riding and said, “That’s why we bought the VitaMix machines – to try and get healthy.”

So I felt a little better about myself – there are places in life more ridiculous than mine.

I was able to fight my way off the train at Arapaho Station, zipped my jacket tight, turned my lights on, and rode the last two miles through heavy rain in the pitch dark night. It was magnificent.

It was about eleven thirty when I made it home. I had been out riding the train, my bike, and sampling beer for thirteen and a half hours.

A good day.

“Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Expanded Cinema

Posted on October 7, 2013 by Bill Chance

October is a good month in Dallas. The killer summer heat is ending and there are a lot of events scheduled in the, if not always pleasant, at least not toxic weather.

Only about a day or so ahead of time, I heard about something going on in downtown Dallas that looked interesting.

There is a relatively new hotel attached to the convention center – the Omni – that is skinned with four miles of light bars and more than a million LED lights. It’s an enormous computer controlled light show that’s only limited by the quality of the images. They say it’s like a low quality printer.

So, for the opening of the Dallas Videofest a dozen video artists were given the Omni hotel to use as a canvas, for a series of works under the moniker Expanded Cinema – MultipliCity.

Looking at a map of downtown I realized I could take the DART train downtown and then ride my bike onto the Jefferson Street Viaduct Bike Lane – there was a good view of the Omni Hotel from there.

Bicycle Lanes on the Jefferson Viaduct from Oak Cliff into downtown, Dallas.

When work ended I almost didn’t go. It was a tough week and I was exhausted. At home I stretched out on the bed and felt my motivation draining out. I wanted to stay home and watch television. It took all my motivation to get up, change, load up my bicycle, and ride out to the train station.

I knew I had to have my tripod with me if I wanted to take any photographs. For a long time I’ve been trying to figure out how to carry it on my bike. The legs collapse, of course, but it’s still pretty long. After thinking about it, imagining all sorts of different scenarios and improvised equipment – I simply took a single bungee cord and tied it to the rack. It stuck out the back… but it worked. Sometimes, simple is the best.

I rode the train to the Union Station and it was a short jump to get on the Jefferson Viaduct. As I rode up and over I noticed the old, abandoned parking garage that served Reunion Arena back in the day. I turned in and rode up to the top level, where there was a great view of the downtown and the Omni.

I was a little early and there was only one guy there – and I set up my camera and tripod.

My bike on the old parking garage with the Omni in the background.

My commuter bike on the old parking garage with the Omni in the background.

The only problem was that the audio portion of the program was broadcast on 97.1FM – and as I was packing up I realized that I don’t even own a portable radio. I would have to watch the show without sound.

As the appointed hour arrived a good number of cars started to arrive and try to jockey for position. Watching this comedy of of errors on the parking garage ramps below my perch was as amusing as the video show itself. A few more bicyclists came riding up and some police cars showed to work on reports and see what was up.

Watching the show from the roof of an SUV.

I have no idea who owns that old parking garage or if there are any plans for it in the future. It does have a spectacular view of downtown but there isn’t anything going on there now except a home (and bathroom) for homeless folks. I wish the city would do something cool – the top level of the garage could get the Klyde Warren treatment. A layer of dirt, some grass, and you would have another really amazing urban park. The levels of parking below could be used for visitors or for the Convention Center nearby. As a matter of fact, the Convention Center would benefit from a nearby open, grassy, park area with a killer view. It would be a great spot for outdoor events.

That’s my idea, at any rate.

My vantage point was a little too close and that emphasized the low quality of the image – and I missed not having the sound – but it was still a lot of fun to watch. I was glad that I made the effort to get out of bed and get down there.

A figure swimming across the hotel.
(click to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

When the Expanded Cinema ended everybody switched positions – there was supposed to be a fireworks show in honor of the new observation deck on Reunion Tower. Nobody knew exactly where or when that was going to happen – but that’s a story for tomorrow.

Omni Hotel, Downtown Dallas

Steel Creosote and Pine

Posted on September 19, 2013 by Bill Chance

The telephone poles in your cozy little home neighborhood are festooned with flyers for garage sales, lost pets, and maybe a high school cheerleader car wash.

Telephone Pole, Deep Ellum, Texas

This, however, is Deep Ellum and the wooden poles aren’t decorated… they are armored. The solid steel coating… the Staple Mail, as it were… comes from one source. Band Flyers. Lots of Band Flyers. Decades of Band Flyers.

How long do they stay here? I guess pretty much forever. The real Renaissance of Deep Ellum happened in, say 1982 or so (when I moved to Dallas and started going down there to the Prophet Bar and Theater Gallery) so I suppose some of these are over thirty years old.

See that one staple a third of the way down? Yeah, that one. That’s from an old concert by MC900 Foot Jesus. Below it is one by Reverend Horton Heat. That old, rusty one at the bottom… New Bohemians (featuring Edie (Eatme) Brickell). There’s TimBuk3 and Mo Jo Nixon and True Believers. Don’t forget the Butthole Surfers with Grinding Teeth opening. The Loco Gringos left one behind. There’s one from The Blasters and another by Joe Christ and the Healing Faith. Of course there’s a shiny new one for Home by Hovercraft and a bunch of them from Brave Combo shows.

(yes, these are all shows that I have actually seen in Deep Ellum)

On and on. Think about it… every one of these staples (and the thousands you don’t see, they go all the way around, from knee high to ten feet in the air) represent a music show at a Deep Ellum Club sometime. That’s a lot of music. That’s a lot of memories. That’s a lot of steel hammered into creosote and pine.

Deep Ellum, Texas

Sushi and Georgia O’Keeffe

Posted on September 2, 2013 by Bill Chance

Crazy Fish Sushi and a book of Georgia O’Keeffe paintings
(Click to Enlarge)

It was way too hot. The mercury was rising well past the century mark and the Texas sun was beating down, roasting the world with its searing incandescence – still, I wanted to get out and do a bike ride – get some mobile urban photography done – for fun and fodder for blog entries. I packed up, rode to the station, took the DART train downtown and started wandering around.

The night before I had ridden some similar streets with a lot of other folks – the Critical Mass Dallas last-friday-of-the-month ride. I had a blast. We rode from Main Street Garden Park, through downtown, past the Hyatt Regency and across into Oak Cliff, down to Bishop Arts, and then on to a Cuban-Themed party on a rooftop along Jefferson Street (a few doors down from the Texas Theater).

A lot of cool folks, a good time. We rode back across the Jefferson Street Viaduct bike lane – which was spectacular at night. I’m going to have to repeat some of that ride with a camera and a bit of time.

At any rate – one nice thing about a night ride is the cool air.

By noon the next day – cool air was only found inside.

I locked up my bike in Deep Ellum and started walking around, but the heat was getting to me. I was feeling dizzy and my mind was fuzzing up like an old slice of bread. So I thought about bailing and heading home to flop around in the air conditioning, but I had brought two liters of iced water in the cooler that straps to the back of my commuter bike. I’ve learned that I can take the heat pretty well as long as I keep moving and drink as much cold water as possible.

I drank some water, rode a bit, drank some more, found some shade… and felt a lot better.

A week ago, I had been in Klyde Warren park, killing a few minutes, and had thumbed through a book of Georgia O’Keeffe paintings that was set out in the reading room in the park. One quote from the book was still rattling around in my head – but I couldn’t remember it exactly and without the exact words couldn’t find it on the Internet. I wanted to use the quotation for a bit of writing/photography. The mystery quote was bothering me like an unscratched itch so I decided to ride back there and take another look at the book.

While I was there I bought a sushi roll from the Crazy Fish Truck (plus more cold water and a diet coke ). Then I was able to get a little green table in some dappled shade and sit down with the paintings and my food and hang.

Oh, I did misremember the quote a little bit. I am happy to set the record straight – but I’m thinking that my misremembered version might be… if not better, more useful for my purposes.

Crazy Fish Sushi Roll, and a Georgia O’Keeffe

A Conversation

Posted on August 31, 2013 by Bill Chance

Damian Priour, Austin
Temple (detail)
2000 fossil limestone, glass, steel
In Memory of Buddy Langston 1947-2004
Frisco, Texas

Life consists of making the decision of what you are going to do in the next split second. Nothing else exists other than the process of making that decision and executing it. Everything else is an illusion.

What if I make the wrong choice? What if I choose something that limits my future choices? What if I paint myself into a corner?

I didn’t say it was easy. I didn’t say it was a good thing. All I said is that that is all there is.

I thought that life was pain! I thought that life was suffering!

It is. Pain is choice. It is. Choice is suffering.

But if choice is all there is… and I can choose whatever I want – then I am totally free.

Choice is freedom. Total choice is total freedom. Freedom is all there is.

So I am totally free.

Yes – but if life is pain and suffering and choice is also freedom – then life is freedom.
But freedom is pain and suffering.

Freedom is suffering?

Yes.

I get it.

Yes, you do.

LED

Posted on August 30, 2013 by Bill Chance

I was walking home from somewhere the other night – late at night. Pitch dark. There was this big field – never mind exactly where – but the important thing is that it was between where I was and where I needed to be. So I walked across it, diagonally… which is the straight line, the shortest distance between the two points – where I was and where I needed to be.

It’s odd that there is a field like this, this big, this empty, in the middle of a city. Land is expensive, after all… and there is only so much of it. But if you look closely, there are a lot more of these expanses of empty space, of ragged grass, of nothingness, than you think.

But you don’t look closely. Nobody does. There is nothing so hidden, so mysterious, as a big empty field in the middle of a city.

It is so hidden and mysterious that it feels odd to walk across it in the pitch dark. Very odd.

In the middle of the field, when I was a long way from the nearest streetlight, when the only light was provided by the half-moon overhead, I saw something where I didn’t expect something to be. There was a small but bright red light hovering in space, not too far away.

As I approached, it began to change, and then it was blue. Then it was green. Then it was red again. Interested and confused, I walked toward the little light.

It turns out there was a small, ragged tree there, all alone, separated from the rest of the world of trees. You would really never notice that tree otherwise – it wasn’t much of a tree… more like a big shrub – though of a tree shape. And somebody had put something in the tree.

There was enough moonlight for me to make it out. Someone had firmly planted a solar-powered LED lit plastic butterfly in the tree. They had attached its metal pole to a branch and left it to run. It would hide there all day, soaking up the sun, so that its constantly changing light would stream out all night.

Here… I think this is it. Not too expensive, but not free, either. They did a good job of mounting it in the tree, with some padding to protect the branch and large, thick zip ties.

Who did this? And why?

It is impossible to see this from the street. It is only by sheer accident that I walked near enough to the thing in the night to notice the light. Even in the day, you would never see the thing unless you happened to walk right next to it then look up. I have never seen anyone in that field… ever.

So it’s a little secret between me and the person that put it up. I sort of like that. Don’t tell anybody about it… OK?

I walked back during the day to take a picture of the Solar Powered LED Butterfly in the tree.

Trainspotting

Posted on August 19, 2013 by Bill Chance

“We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. We realise that we’re all going to die, without really finding out the big answers. We develop all those long-winded ideas which just interpret the reality of our lives in different ways, without really extending our body of worthwhile knowledge, about the big things, the real things. Basically, we live a short disappointing life; and then we die. We fill up our lives with shite, things like careers and relationships to delude ourselves that it isn’t all totally pointless.”
― Irvine Welsh, Trainspotting

My son, Nick, is home for a few days before he heads back to school. I told him I was going to do, “A stupid Dad thing.” I said I was going to drive down into South Dallas and sit around and wait until I could see an old train engine go by.
“Yes,” he said, “That sounds like a stupid Dad thing.”

When our kids were little, I used to take them down to Fair Park. It’s an underused and unappreciated piece of our city. We would stop off at the Age of Steam museum on the north side of the park. That was a little-known, overcrowded spot where they had an amazing collection of rolling stock – a true history of the American railroads.

Big Boy 4018, in Fair Park, a few years ago.

Big Boy 4018, next to a slight lesser engine, in Fair Park, a few years ago.

Big Boy 4018, next to a slightly lesser engine, in Fair Park, a few years ago.

Big Boy 4018, behind the wire in Fair Park

The museum was always neglected by the city and actively discouraged by Fair Park officials. It became more and more threadbare and run down. I was worried that it would fade away. But, eventually, the city of Frisco came through and decided to build a brand-new, spacious Museum of the American Railroad. It seemed to take forever, but the thing finally came together. I can’t wait to visit the place when it opens.

One challenge was to move all the rolling stock from the Fair Park sidings all the way out to Frisco. No mean feat – over the last few years they have been using slack time in the various railways across the Metroplex to move their cars and engines out to their new digs.

Only one piece of equipment remained – but that was a doozy. Union Pacific Big Boy 4018. One of twenty-five “Big Boy” coal-fired steam engines built in the early forties – arguably the largest steam locomotives in the world. 133 feet long, and weighing one and a quarter million pounds (with its tender) – that’s a big hunk of iron to move across a giant modern city.

I wanted to see this.

For months now, the move has been scheduled and canceled – due to technical and scheduling problems. Finally, this Sunday, it looked like the thing was going to go off. I followed on facebook and twitter and made sure it was going to be leaving home – then packed up my bicycle, folding chair, camera, notebook and pen, and some cold water and headed out.

The route was available online and I picked out a spot in South Dallas where the rail line ran along a deserted stretch of grass and trees – that still had a road (Railroad Avenue) right next to it. When I arrived, I realized I must have picked a good spot – there were quite a few folks there, including news reporters, official rail line photographers, railroad dispatchers on their days off, and a good gaggle of serious train fanatics.

Unfortunately, there were some serious delays and we waited for several hours while a number of other trains sped by, but no Big Boy.

While we were waiting some other trains came by. All the folks on this Amtrack were looking out the windows wondering why everyone was standing there with cameras.

Train fans, waiting for Big Boy.

A freight train stopped on the track, blocking the route, waiting for clearance ahead and we all realized it would be several hours more – so I took off and went to a favorite place in Exposition Plaza – Pizza Lounge – for a slice, an IPA, and watch the Rangers get beat on the television over the bar. I was able to keep up on twitter – and when it looked like the train was moving again I headed out.

The crowd at Scyene Road, under the DART bridge, waiting.

This time I stopped at Scyene road, near the DART station. The train would reach that spot first, and there was a good crowd of folks still waiting. It still took about another hour, but it was pretty darn cool – worth the six-hour wait. Several serious railroad fans were saying, “Seeing an engine like this moving on the tracks is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

Of course, it wasn’t under its own power. There was talk once of restoring this engine to operating condition, but it would be prohibitively expensive, nobody wants coal burning trains around, and there isn’t much track left that can take this size of machine. It was pulled along by a diesel engine, and was hooked to a long line of tank cars to provide braking and stability.

Three generations. The smoking diesel pulling the steam Big Boy, while the electric DART train zooms by overhead. (click to enlarge)

Big Boy 4018 (click to enlarge)

The massive drive wheels on Big Boy 4018 (click to enlarge)

Big Boy 4018 (click to enlarge)

Big Boy 4018

I was expecting the size but not the fantastic complexity. The size, number, and beauty of all those parts spinning as the train went by was incredible. Now I understand why the train fans wanted to see it move. When you look at these things in a static museum it’s easy to forget and hard to comprehend that they were built to move, move fast, move long distances, and pull unimaginably heavy loads.

Once it went by I drove back to Railroad Avenue, and as I pulled in, the Big Boy was already passing. I managed to get a shot of it as it went over Bexar Street.

Big Boy 4018 (click to enlarge)

The Union Pacific photographer told me of a spot where I could get a picture of the train with the Dallas skyline in the background, but there was another tall container train on a siding blocking the view. The train still had a long way to go, but I was getting tired and needed some water, so I headed home.

“Choose a life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers… Choose DSY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit crushing game shows, stucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away in the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself, choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that?”
― Irvine Welsh, Trainspotting

Bill Chance

This is Not Going to Turn Out Well

Category Archives: Daily Epiphany

Aurora Dallas

What I learned this week, October 18, 2013

Scott Adams’ Secret of Success: Failure

What I learned this week, October 11, 2013

Bicycle Brewery Tour

Expanded Cinema

Steel Creosote and Pine

Sushi and Georgia O’Keeffe

A Conversation

LED

Trainspotting

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Scott Adams’ Secret of Success: Failure

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