Growing

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
― Anaïs Nin

Andrew Rogers, Australia
Growing
1999
Frisco, Texas

You’ve got to work hard! There’s no substitute for hard work, it doesn’t happen by itself. I think about art seven days a week, 24 hours a day. I work really hard. That’s the only way you get the work done!
—-Andrew Rogers

Andrew Rogers, Growing, Frisco, Texas

Andrew Rogers, Growing, Frisco, Texas

“Dear God,” she prayed, “let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry…have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere – be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.”
― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Andrew Rogers, Growing, Frisco, Texas

Andrew Rogers, Growing, Frisco, Texas

“Most people don’t grow up. Most people age. They find parking spaces, honor their credit cards, get married, have children, and call that maturity. What that is, is aging.”
― Maya Angelou

“When a child first catches adults out — when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not always have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just — his world falls into panic desolation. The gods are fallen and all safety gone. And there is one sure thing about the fall of gods: they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter or sink deeply into green muck. It is a tedious job to build them up again; they never quite shine. And the child’s world is never quite whole again. It is an aching kind of growing.”
― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

“He stood at the window of the empty cafe and watched the activites in the square and he said that it was good that God kept the truths of life from the young as they were starting out or else they’d have no heart to start at all.”
― Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

“The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again

“‘Twas in another lifetime
One of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue
The road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness
A creature void of form
Come in she said I’ll give ya
Shelter from the storm.”
—- Bob Dylan, Shelter From The Storm

A week ago, we found that there was a party honoring the Lakewood Brewing Company‘s one year anniversary – held at the Goodfriend Beer Garden and Burger House in East Dallas. This was a must-go. Lakewood has great beers and there would be music. Every hour they would be tapping special kegs and casks.

We arrived at about one-thirty, only a half-hour after the festivities started, and found the place already more than packed. It was tough to get to the bar for a beer – it took almost an hour for our first fill. But it was worth the wait – they had a small keg of the French Quarter Temptress on tap. I had tried this before – it’s the great Lakewood Temptress, “cask conditioned with chicory root and bourbon soaked Noble Coyote Papau New Guinea coffee.” I love that beer.

Temptress – black as death, thick as sin, sweet as tomorrow morning’s regret…. the French Quarter Temptress is all that… plus coffee and bourbon.

Then, wonder of wonders, we were able to snag half of a table right in front of the band. The first group was packing it up and the second starting to bring in their instruments. I should have been prepared… copied down a list of the music for the afternoon, and, especially, a list of the hourly tappings. But I didn’t… and that was cool too. I didn’t really want anything other than that French Quarter Temptress and it was fine to not know what music was on the way.

As the band set up I recognized Chad Stockslager. He plays in several local bands and I had seen him with Chris Holt as Holt and Stockslager… a Simon and Garfunkel tribute band, three times – first at the Patio Sessions in the Arts District, then at the Foundry and the Dallas Zoo. They put on a great show – a really fun and mellow evening. I recognized a couple other local musicians, but couldn’t place the lead singer… though he looked familiar and his voice, especially, I knew I had heard before.

Then they started playing and we discovered that the band was The Buick 6, a Bob Dylan tribute band. The singer was Mike Rhyner, best known as a DJ on 1310 The Ticket. No wonder his voice was familiar.

Mike Rhyner singing with The Buick 6

Mike Rhyner singing with The Buick 6

We really enjoyed the show. Afterward, we talked to Billy Bones, one of the guitar players, and he said they would be at Lee Harvey’s in The Cedars that upcoming Friday. Lee Harvey’s is a great place – a combination beer garden and dive bar – a great place to hear music. It’s a dog-friendly place and Candy loves that so many people bring their mutts along.

Billy Bones with The Buick 6

Billy Bones with The Buick 6

Chad Stockslager playing keyboards with The Buick 6

Chad Stockslager playing keyboards with The Buick 6

“You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin’ out

Now you don’t talk so loud
Now you don’t seem so proud
About having to be scrounging
for your next meal.”
—-Bob Dylan, Like a Rolling Stone

I had an awfully tough week at work and when Friday came along it was really difficult for me to drag myself up and out and drive down for the show. I didn’t want to go – but I knew I would change my mind once I was actually there. I didn’t even have the energy to change clothes – so it was right in the car and out and down through the big evil city to the Southside.

It was a late show and we wanted to get there early so we could get something to eat. The fish tacos were great, and we settled in and waited for the festivities.

Storms were predicted – lightning shattered the horizon, someone held up a smartphone with an app that predicted heavy rainfall, but we didn’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.

Lee Harvey's

Lee Harvey’s

Lee Harvey’s always has an amazing diverse crowd. A lot of different folks are there. Some are mathematicians, some are carpenter’s wives. A lot of pooches. The ages are all over – hipsters – college kids – some families with children…. all the way to people teetering on geezerdom.

Still a little stunned from the week I did manage to enjoy the music. A little food, a little beer, and I felt better. The Buick 6 do a great show. One nice touch is that they don’t try too hard to be absolutely accurate – staying in the spirit of Dylan more than the slavishly correct. A nice setlist selection too – there is so much to choose from. I guess it’s not surprising that the tune I liked the most had some sweet fiddle playing (Hurricane).

Everyone has their favorite Dylan tune – and there are so many of them. When faced with an oeuvre as vast as his it’s important to simply relax and let the band play what they want. Near the end of the second set, some young drunk blonde stumbled up to the stage and demanded the band play, “some of their own music.” I guess she doesn’t understand the idea of a tribute band… or much of anything else. Then her boyfriend loudly requested “Lay Lady Lay” – which is, I guess, a good enough song – but not… well, simply not a good idea. At least the two of them seemed well-matched.

Well, she don’t make me nervous, she don’t talk too much
She walks like Bo Diddley and she don’t need no crutch
She keeps this four-ten all loaded with lead
Well, if I go down dyin’ you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed.
—-Bob Dylan, From A Buick 6

So, despite my worn-out and beaten-down state that evening, we made it through the late set and, after petting the yellow Labrador Retriever sitting next to us one last time, headed for home. It was fun.

The festival was over and the boys were all planning for a fall
The cabaret was quiet except for the drilling in the wall
The curfew had been lifted and the gambling wheel shut down
Anyone with any sense had already left town
He was standing in the doorway looking like the Jack of Hearts.
—- Bob Dylan, “Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts”

Mike Rhyner also has a Tom Petty tribute band, Petty Theft. They will be at Lee Harvey’s next Friday. I think I’ll be there. No matter how worn out I am.

“Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.”
—-Bob Dylan, ‘Mr. Tambourine Man’

Across the street from Lee Harvey's

Across the street from Lee Harvey’s

“And she takes just like a woman
And she aches just like a woman
And she wakes just like a woman
Yeah, but she breaks just like a little girl.”
—-Bob Dylan, Just Like A Woman

Oh, if you were wondering what my favorite Bob Dylan song is – it’s “Isis”, from Desire. The band didn’t play it – which is cool, because it isn’t really that kind of tune. I like it because it tells a story – and I’m all about story. It’s also about redemption and I’m a sucker for redemption. Most importantly, I bought that album (on Vinyl, of course) right after I graduated from college and started my first real job – and would listen to it in the evenings until is sank in… and it’s still in there. I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.

She was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise
Blinded by sleep and in need of a bed
I came in from the East with the sun in my eyes
I cursed her one time then I rode on ahead.

She said “Where ya been ?” I said “No place special ?”
She said “You look different” I said “Well I guess”
She said “You been gone” I said “That’s only natural”
She said “You gonna stay ?” I said “If you want me to, Yeah “.

Isis oh Isis you mystical child
What drives me to you is what drives me insane
I still can remember the way that you smiled
On the fifth day of May in the drizzling rain.
—-Bob Dylan, Isis

Travelling Man – in paint and pixels

Grafitti in the Dallas Art Park, Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas

Graffiti in the Dallas Art Park, Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas

The Travelling Man Sculptures have become an instant icon in Deep Ellum.

Painting at the entrance to the Urban Gardens, Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas

Painting at the entrance to the Urban Gardens, Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas

Up with the sun, gone with the wind
She always said I was lazy
Leavin’ my home, leavin’ my friends
Runnin’ when things get too crazy
Out to the road, out ‘neath the stars
Feelin’ the breeze, passin’ the cars

traveling_man_wallking_tall

Women have come, women have gone
Everyone tryin’ to cage me
Oh, some were so sweet, I barely got free
Others they only enrage me
Sometimes at night, I see their faces
I feel the traces they’ve left on my soul
Those are the memories that make me a wealthy soul

traveling_man_guitar

Sometimes at night, I see their faces
I feel the traces they’ve left on my soul
But those are the memories that make me a wealthy soul
I tell you those are the memories that make me a wealthy soul
Travelin’ man, yea
—-Bob Segar, Travelin’ Man

walking_tall

Click on any of the photographs for larger versions on Flickr.

I’ll always remember when I went down there and took these. In particular I remember walking backward looking through the viewfinder, tilted up at the tall sculpture looming overhead. Do you see that little green step by the sculpture’s feet?

I didn’t.

You don’t forget those kind of falls.

waiting_for_the_train

Cadillac Ranch

Well there she sits buddy just a-gleaming in the sun
There to greet a working man when his day is done
I’m gonna pack my pa and I’m gonna pack my aunt
I’m gonna take them down to the Cadillac Ranch
Eldorado fins, whitewalls and skirts
Rides just like a little bit of heaven here on earth
Well buddy when I die throw my body in the back
And drive me to the junkyard in my Cadillac
—Bruce Springsteen, Cadillac Ranch

Cadillac Ranch, is west of Amarillo, Texas. I’ve stopped there a few times, mostly on the way back home from Santa Fe. It is an odd place – a modern American Icon of the New West.

Dallas Art Park, Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas

Dallas Art Park, Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas

Cadillac Ranch, West of Amarillo, Texas

Cadillac Ranch, West of Amarillo, Texas

Googlemap View

Cadillac Ranch

A crude little sketch I did in watercolor pencil on a postcard at the Cadillac Ranch west of Amarillo.

Cadillac Ranch - Old Guys Rule

Old Guys Rule

Cadillac Ranch

Cadillac Ranch

Tar Roses

Make things that carry with them the residue of where they have been.
—-Dennis Oppenheim

Dennis Oppenheim 1938-2011
American (New York)
Tar Roses
1996

Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Tar Roses, Dennis Oppenheim, Frisco, Texas

Decades of Art

With cities, it is as with dreams: everything imaginable can be dreamed, but even the most unexpected dream is a rebus that conceals a desire or, its reverse, a fear. Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, even if the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules are absurd, their perspectives deceitful, and everything conceals something else.

“I have neither desires nor fears,” the Khan declared, “and my dreams are composed either by my mind or by chance.”

“Cities also believe they are the work of the mind or of chance, but neither the one nor the other suffices to hold up their walls. You take delight not in a city’s seven or seventy wonders, but in the answer it gives to a question of yours.”

― Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

decades1

I have been putting up photographs I took a few weekends back at the Deep Ellum Art Park near Downtown Dallas. I have a lot more that I can use as I postprocess them to fill in journal entries on days that nothing much happens (or nothing that I want to write about here). The Deep Ellum Art Park is an area of concrete pillars of the overhead freeway connecting I30 and H75 (Central Expressway) plus a series of monoliths of various shapes that have been arranged in the gravelly areas between roadways for the purpose of serving as a canvas.

It’s a fun and interesting use of otherwise wasted space – a recovered area of urban blight.

It’s been growing over a period of decades and now has expanded to include decorative artworks in and around an urban garden and a dog park. It’s sort of officially authorized graffiti. I enjoy visiting the area, walking around looking at the graffiti/ paintings, and (obviously) taking photos of the scene.

decades2

One of the things I particularly enjoy is that I’ve been going down there for about twenty years now and it brings back memories. I remember sometime… maybe the early 90’s or so, that I did essentially what I’m doing now – I rode my bicycle (it would have been my Yokota Mountain bike – newly purchased – now converted into a commuter) down there and took some photographs.

That wasn’t really that long ago (in geologic time, for example), but times have changed so much. I would have been using my Pentax 35mm SLR so I would have been a lot more judicious about the number of shots – don’t want to waste film. Do you remember when you would say things like, “If the pictures come out” – “come out” was a common term back when you couldn’t look at the back of your camera and see what you had just shot?

….Or was it only ten years ago and I was using a primitive crude digital camera?
I don’t know which is true – I guess it doesn’t matter – thought it is pitiful and sad when your life stretches out into one featureless plain and one decade is indistinguishable from another.
Yet, a lot has changed.

But most of what has changed is me.

It was going down there and finding a few monoliths newly constructed and being painted for the first time. No more than a slim handful of them. Now there are over thirty, plus the hundred or so column sides. Each had an artist attached to it. Through lucky timing I had arrived during the inaugural event and the artists were at work.

I sat down on a bench to watch the painters paint (that’s another change – the benches are all gone – taken away because they attracted too many sleeping homeless people). There was an older man on a tall upright obelisk, a young man on a rectangular panel, and a young woman next to him on a semicircle jutting out of the earth.

I had so little confidence then – it was so very difficult to take pictures of people. Now, I would walk right up and ask them to pose with their work… they are painting a public monument after all – they would crave the publicity.

Watching the woman paint her bit of whitewashed concrete canvas I was filled with a hollow sense of longing and beauty. I don’t know why the scene of a woman and two men painting had this effect on me. The woman wasn’t especially attractive – and her painting, honestly, wasn’t particularly good. As a matter of fact, only the old man had a great amount of talent and skill – though I don’t remember what any of them actually painted. Their work is long gone now – painted over several times.

I dug around in my files and photographs and the only things I could find are these two small, blurry, edited shots I was using in some silly project.

11

2

The only thing that remains, the only thing left, is my memory of sadness that I felt at the time. That is still vivid and clear… even as all the other details have faded into obscurity.

decades3

He was thinking of all these things when he desired a city. Isidora, therefore, is the city of his dreams: with one difference. The dreamed-of city contained him as a young man; he arrives at Isidora in his old age. In the square there is the wall where the old men sit and watch the young go by; he is seated in a row with them. Desires are already memories.
― Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

H.O.P. Rabbits

David Iles, Bolivar
H.O.P. Rabbits
2000 Bronze
Frisco, Texas

A couple months ago, on a bicycle ride up to Denton, I found a cool sculpture – a bronze tornado – called November Devil, by David Iles. As I look from sculptures across the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex (and beyond) I find different works by the same person. In the sculpture garden in Frisco, I found some little bronze rabbits that Iles had done – not as spectacular as a bronze tornado, but nice nonetheless.

H.O.P. Rabbits, by David Iles

H.O.P. Rabbits, by David Iles

H.O.P. Rabbits, by David Iles

H.O.P. Rabbits, by David Iles

—-The sculpture from Denton:

November Devil, David Iles, Denton, Texas

November Devil, David Iles, Denton, Texas

Welcome to the Deep Ellum Art Park

Dallas, Texas

Wink

Wink

Have a drink.

Have a drink.

It's Texas... you never know who's packin'

It’s Texas… you never know who’s packin’

welcome1

More Old Airstreams

A few more photographs taken of an Airstream Trailer graveyard I stumbled across on a trip to Denton, Texas.

“My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

as1

…time is the speed at which the past disappears.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

as2

“Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

as3

“I lost my balance when the train pulled away, but a human crumple zone buffered my fall. We stayed like that, half fallen. Diagonal People.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

as4

“Don’t bemoan your misspent life quite yet. Forgive me for flaunting my experience, but you have no conception of what a misspent life constitutes.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

Grease Trap

Grease Container outside Bar-B-Que joint, Dallas, Texas

I don’t spend as much time on my hair as people think. I get out of the shower, whack some grease on there and I’m done.
—-Chris Isaak

grease_trap

That bright bold warning sticker on the nasty old steel grease container is a very sternly worded warning to not take anything from said container. It says the container and its contents are privately owned, “pursuant to an exclusive contract with the restaurant owner.” It goes on, “We will prosecute anyone who tampers with, removes any of the contents from, or damages this container. We provide service with uniformed drivers in clearly marked company trucks. We DO NOT use subcontractors.”

Why such concern? This is a nasty steel box full of used pig grease in the alley outside the Baby Back Shack in Dallas… it is not Fort Knox.

Well, as it turns out, since the rise in popularity of bio-diesel, restaurant grease has become the new black gold… Texas Tea. Stealing grease has become big business.

Baby Back Shack, Southside, Dallas, Texas

Baby Back Shack, Cedars, Dallas, Texas

Oh, what’s that? You don’t care about the stolen grease warning? You’re curious about the stickers? Who is the girl?

I have no idea. Life is not fair.

And as i walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
—-Elvis Costello, (What’s so Funny ’bout) Peace, Love And Understanding