Got a little bit of mail while I was gone….

headed to bend today…taking the long way there!

1- Last Tuesday I went and saw my friend Joe McMurrian and his band play some mighty fine blues at the White Eagle here in Portland. I managed to make it through the night this time without losing my car. Joe and his band are outstanding especially live. If you are anywhere near Portland, you have a pulse, and a penchant for good Blues, you must go see them play (they’re there every Tuesday). If you can’t see them live, you can get their CD through his website: JoeMcMurrian.com

2- My friend Mike partnered with Digital Steamworks and Kevin Kallaugher (aka KAL, the Economist’s editorial cartoonist) on a tech demo: Dancing Dubya (on YouTube)

The other day I took Oxford (Ken’s dog) for a walk down the street that runs on the back side of the studio. I had been completely engrossed in a painting so I was in that state of mind where I’m hyper aware of anything painting related but oblivious to all else. I may notice things but if they aren’t related to the painting, it just doesn’t click.

Because I’m working on the trucker series, I immediately noticed the way the roads intersected across the field bordering the complex; that the afternoon light would be hitting it soon and that there were a lot of trucks moving along the road and onto the I-84 onramp. With my zoom lens I’d be able to get some good shots. The sun was behind me, so I kept turning around to see where it hit the trees and figuring how long before it was likely to make the trucks coming down the road look extra cool. I noticed, but immediately dismissed, the large parking lot on the opposite side of the road, the remaining warehouse buildings… and the group of guys (all dressed in orange shirts) sitting in the shade of the building clearly waiting for something.

I let Oxford run around in the field for a while and then went back to the studio for my camera. I’m getting great shots of trucks coming on and off the freeway with the field in between. I’m still looking behind me to see where the sun is hitting and where its likely to go. The guys in the orange shirts are now watching my every move. It vaguely occurs to me that they might be thinking I keep looking in that direction because I’m looking at them but I’m so focused on the trucks that the thought barely makes a blip.

A truck pulls into that parking lot and the guys jump up and start loading. The light is now that perfect golden light just before sunset. The driver’s got one of those Australian leather cowboyish hats and its too much for me to resist so I start taking photos of them. The guys notice and really start hamming it up. I think, wow, these guys don’t’ get out much….

I’m far away but my lens is really good so I’m zooming in and getting some great shots. The security guard (or so I thought) starts walking over to me. As he gets closer, I realize it’s a sheriff. This doesn’t particularly surprise or alarm me because in LA with the movie industry and all, its fairly common for a cop to be around big trucks as they’re loaded up with props and such. He starts chatting with me and makes a joke about my disruptive presence. I ask if its ok that I’m taking photos, and he says the guys don’t seem to mind. We chit chat as I’m snapping away, the guys are still loading but clowning around for the camera. I’m zoomed in but looking at composition, the light, etc but ignoring small details. Like what is printed on their shirts and caps. I zoom in even closer and FINALLY it registers: printed on each and every one of their shirts: Marion County Sheriff’s Inmate Work Crew.

I’m nothing if not observant… and I was right, they don’t get out much.

Troutdale is a heavily used truck stop. There are trucks and truckers everywhere. Seemed a no- brainer to do a series. I used to wait tables in college at a diner frequented by truckers. From that experience I knew that while they can be gruff sometimes (I know I would be cranky after 14 days of driving), they are typically good people; they’ve got plenty of hilarious stories and more importantly (at that time at least) across the board they were the best tippers. All things being equal, I’d pick the trucker tables over the business lunch crowd any day. Regardless, the idea of hanging out at a truck stop talking truckers into letting me take a photo to do a painting off of was a little intimidating. Actually, to be honest, the idea scared the hell out of me.

I talked to my friend Cliff who tried to help me analyze exactly what I was afraid of. When that didn’t work, he resorted to calling me a chicken and all sorts of other juvenile names. I’m ashamed to admit that’s what worked. I’ve spent the last few mornings at the truck stop catching the truckers after they filled up and were going inside to pay or grab a Coke.

Some I only talk to for a few minutes, others I talked to for up to 45 minutes. I met truckers from all over the U.S. and even ones from Rio, London, and India. Richard Montgomery (“Like Montgomery, Alabama… but I’m from OMAHA!”) just turned 50 but maybe looks 40. We talked about everything from Paris Hilton to Condoleeza Rice, of course that led to Iraq, then Syria…somehow ended up talking about Orwell’s “1984”, the collapse of the bridge in Minneapolis…he did a hilarious impression of an American talking to an Iraqi (he wants to be a comedian some day). My guess is this guy spends most of his time driving listening to news and talk shows. He’s very well informed and a lot smarter than he thinks. The one and only female driver I saw was from Wisconsin and was very excited about getting her photo taken for a painting. Tarry’s been driving for 11 years and LOVES her job. She’s an evangelist spreading the Word and she’s got more energy than she seems to know what to do with. A very funny lady. There were many many good stories. This is going to be a fun series.

Here are a few pieces in various states of finish. The woman by the way is an attendant at the station, not Tarry.

Ken and Mary made it back into town yesterday. Their home away from home is a Holiday Inn up the street. The same place I do my drive by blogging/email postings from. I swing into the parking lot and take advantage of the fact that wi fi doesnt magically stop at their walls. The other day though, I needed power and more importantly, I hadnt had my coffee yet. Ken had introduced me to several staff members before he left in case I needed anything.I went into the lobby and figured I should say hi to the manager, let her know what I was up to. Mind you I had met her before. Ken had even told her who I was, what I’m doing here, and we had chatted a bit. She seemed pretty friendly at the time.

I realize a lot of people come through there, so I wasn’t horribly surprised when my greeting was met with a blank stare. I tried again by reminding her I was Ken’s friend. Her eyes narrowed and she gave me the evil eye. This wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped. I just wasn’t exactly sure why. Did she think I was going to steal a cinnamon roll? Maybe she’d seen me in the parking lot and didn’t appreciate that. She finally spoke: “You’re not Mary.”

Uh-oh. Not at all what I thought it was.

Mary thought it was pretty hilarious.

July 27th was a very sad day. After valiant attempts to resuscitate, my ipod was officially pronounced dead by the Genius at the Bridgeport Apple Store just outside of Portland.

My ipod is dead. No more music.

It’d been acting strange for a while. Occasionally it would get confused. The symptoms were there– started to tire easily; scrolling through the music list would leave fragments of text on screen — I just hoped it would hold out a little longer.

I’m on a road trip and my ipod is dead. This is catastrophic.

The Apple Genius felt my pain. I gained full sympathy when he learned my plight : on a road trip and far far away from my back up disk. He really tried everything to bring it back; or at least save the music. Several geniuses tried to help, talking to each other under their breath like I wasn’t supposed to hear. They kinda rallied as each learned the horror of my situation. A road trip without music?! Get Josh over here…It was a valiant effort. I think I saw a little tear in his eye when the guy called the official time of death: 6:12pm.

Sure, I can replace it, but we had such good times. Flying up the coast of California listening to godawful one hit wonders from the 70’s (and knowing every word)…. Easing into my first day in Oregon with Dustin O’Halloran and later rocking out with the Frames. Neil Young seemed an appropriate soundtrack for Mt. Hood. This is just too sad.

I really tried though. For God’s sake, I spent an entire day at a MALL trying to save it. I didn’t even paint. I went to two malls in fact (The Genius bar was booked at the first one….) Those who know me well understand what pure dedication that was. It takes a lot to get me near a mall.