This is so 80s

1981 to be exact.

The Goth at the End of the Bar: a play, in several acts

ACT ONE: in which we discover a mysterious matchbox

 

ACT TWO: in which an entrance to a bar is revealed

ACT THREE: in which, upon further investigation (i.e., opening said matchbox), a dimly lit tavern comes into view...

ACT FOUR: in which a lone goth is sighted at the end of the bar!

POST SCRIPT:  Here are a couple more pictures. I  tried to capture the wonderfulness of the interior, its furniture and general ambience:

Instant Fortune Dispenser!

A truly interactive mail-art experience! Complete with multiple-chance fortunes for all occasions! Let's take a look (with sound effects as I worked the ingenious mechanism).

Ooh--hand-painted box!

(turning it over) Hmm?

(reading) Open here...

OK! What's in there? (peering into the darkness)

Hah! Tiny! (as little roll of paper falls out)

(unrolling, reading) "You will concquer obstacles to achieve success."

HA! In your FACE, obstacles! Yeah! (fist pump)

An ongoing experience as we read our fortunes again and again. This is so delightful! And replaces my old Magic 8-ball, which started leaking a number of years ago. This has no liquid and can never leak! And it's pretty too. Very clever!

I'm reading my next fortune now: "You will spend old age in comfort."

That is such a relief to know!

Amber and Fog

I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to post your beautiful postcard.  It brought on a vision out of the fogs of the past, the fog of SF in the 80s.

It's been a week since we got home from Phila.  We were driving from the airport to my aunt's and had barely gotten on the road when I felt like we were in one of my grandfather's paintings.  He painted Philadelphia landscapes in the 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s: timeless, a place caught in amber, still waiting to be woken up, sleeping on and on through the years.  Every time I go back there it's like time travel.  It's at once horrible and wonderful, scary and exhilarating.  And the torpor.  I think amber is the best metaphor for the home of the Liberty Bell and other assorted Americana.

Back to your postcard!  I don't think this is the first time your work has reminded me of Odilon Redon.  Have you looked at his work?  I hope you do.  It's very haunted and shrouded in mystery.  As opposed to amber, fog would be the operative metaphor, an atmospheric condition that is at once obscuring, but also freeing.  Which is how SF felt back then.

I remember reading about Karen Finley, but I never saw any of her performances.  And instead of the White Lady, I remember the Red Devil Man in the Mission.  He was scary.  It was difficult to tell what his deal was and it never occurred to me to talk to him.  I don't think I would be able to talk to him now, either.

Comics 1985 style

I found my box of fanzines and have been going through the pile from the 80s. The Processed World's are pretty dull with hardly any comics, bad clip-art collage, and lots of opinion pieces that I'm too lazy to read. Nancy's Magazine are more fun with her delightfully droll take on research and librarianism (and comics!). Look what I found in this 1985 issue: "My Date - March 23, 1985." Looks like I flattened the tone of the evening down a bit for comic's sake. See if you can guess who the mystery date is!

Reversable collage in vintage frame

Hee! This was so fun—dainty and substantial at once. Fits in the palm of my hand and buried among  reams of junk mail in our mail box. I followed the directions (using needle-nosed pliers to get the backing off, and discovered what was inside in this order:

Collage #1 is lovely with all the pinks, reds and tans—bits of found and most likely ancient printed matter.

Instructions and postage on old-timey cardboard backing.

Once I got the substantially thick backing out of the frame and turned the artwork around, I found  Collage #2. This is what I left in for now, currently on my desk, below my computer screen (double vision as I type this). Lots of textures, patterns and gold on this side.

The backing, now inserted the "traditional" way and so useful! A sturdy little artwork. I'm leaving the postage on because it's cool to have postage on your artwork.

I am very happy with this mail art. And when it's time for a change, I know just what to do.

:D

You Can Do It

I must say, I know nothing about Bob Ross.  He's iconic and recognizable, like the Ginsu, but that's been the extent of my acquaintance with him...until now!  I will be watching whatever youtube has to offer.  How did J's presentation go?

OK, I just watched the "remix" episode with the song "I Believe Every Day's a Good Day When You Paint".  Very hypnotic.  I can see how someone would be fascinated by him.  He has a very steady hand and he's just so confident. 

You totally crack me up!  The drawing and the whole card so captures him.  I will have to watch more videos to get the full picture, so to speak, of this Bob Ross.   You have captivated my imagination.

Dee See Banksy

POW! This little postcard punched me in the eyes yesterday and has filled me with delight ever since. At arm's length, it's a Banksy reference in miniature. But close up, it's brush strokes and gradations of black, white and gray, with lovely lettering (that I had to smudge out for here—bummer). And I just stare at it, drinking in the talent it takes to paint such finery. Bansky does this on large outdoor surfaces. Dee See does it so I can hold this lovely work in my hand. :D   :D    :D

Quadruple Whammy

I cannot say enough about this.  It's so beautiful, I framed part of it and I think I just might frame the other piece too.  The thing about it, all four sides are incredible, so it's not easy to decide which side to highlight.   You are probably wondering what it is I am going on about.  Let me show you:

This wonderful mail art arrived yesterday.  Since we got home when it was dark out and I hadn't left a light on, it took a moment or two for my eyes to adjust and when they did I was blown away.  Above is the front.  The reverse is just as fabulous:

And if those were not incredible enough, the envelope contained something truly awe-inspiring:

And of course, the accompanying letter was a kick when I turned it over...literally! 

This is just amazing, in every possible way...thank you! 

Watercolor iPod containing an enigma

A beautiful piece of mail art. So detailed and full of found objects from San Francisco's city streets of the past. The watercolor app's are so detailed and mesmerizing. And the sick thing is: I want to push that little button below them on the console. Steve Jobs really tapped into some primal button-pushing urge there. You definitely captured it.

Well, I really have to think on this a little bit more before I send something back with this theme. Love how conceptual you are on this one.

Which came first?

This conundrum always gets to me whenever I think about it.  I spend way much more time than necessary contemplating what seems more likely.  In this case, the egg arrived first and was a delivery system for what was inside:

Chickens!

There's crazy chicken with a floating swirl of thoughts, possibly contemplating her own conundrum; the quartet of peeps, my favorite in the lower right corner literally a peeping peep; and the post-modern chicken, ghostily out-lined behind a screen of floating feathers.  

Chickens are the best.  They're very popular these days and can be seen non-chalantly pecking on people's lawns or occasionally crossing the proverbial street.  Did you know there's a small town called Fair Oaks that is home to a large population of free ranging chickens?  They roost in the trees so if you're strolling after sunset, steer clear of any branchy overhangs.

Collaborative Collage

Swell postcards (and a garbage truck token) from the both of you. Lots to look at and enjoy. Textures, torn edges, cube shapes, penned patterns, shiny foil, stitchery, a proud horse, envelope surprise in a bag. Layers and mysteries from mom and son. Thank you.

Look for something this week in the mail. Finishing it up today.

El Pulpo!

Years ago, Raya and I were driving down 1 in the wee hours and came up with this mantra to keep ourselves awake.  One of us would yell, "El Pulpo!" and then the other would scream, "El Toro!" kind of like a call and response battle announcing who was the most fearsome.  And, speaking of battles, good old Pikachu is seen here protecting El Pulpo from some no doubt ferocious El Toro.  Ole!

I've been working on that original kernel of a story and have gotten more engrossed in it.  It's a little off beat but I think you'll be intrigued.  I'll do a little more on it probably Monday (I have to work tomorrow) and try to get it nailed down.  I do need that staring at the ceiling time, too, so I completely understand the need for space and the unobstructed flow of thoughts.

PS: thanks for legalizing us!

Legal mumbo jumbo

Art work and stories on this site are copyright 2012 and solely owned by the authors and may not be reproduced without permission by said authors. Amen.

Ghost World

I've been working on some story ideas.  This is a sneak preview of a sort.  I'll update as I get stuff sorted out.  TTFN!

More San Francisco Memories

I love your list. I'll comment on some of these in Verdana font. I bet we could come up with an outline of adventures with this list (plus others) as a sort of guide.

23 things I remember from SF in the 80s:

1.  The smell of North Beach in the early mornings, a mixture of strong coffee with steamed milk, freshly baked rolls and fog. - Remember Tower Records in North Beach? They had an annex of classical music and they hired guys who knew all about classical music to work there and help people make their purchases. I miss that so much.

2.  the wall of green that is Golden Gate Park across the street from our place and that little fruit stand with Cliff, who looked so much like Treat Williams selling produce and who knows what else. - Oh, that guy was so cute. I used to hope he was out there, selling fruit every day. I bought a lot of plumbs that year. So unreachable though. The not-interested-in-you-but-nice-enough-seeming guy.

3.  Someone putting the YES in polYESter as seen on the billboard above Stanyan and Frederick Streets. - don't remember, but lots of street art/poster/flier art, everywhere.

4.  Pesto pizza at Crazy Dick's down the street from the sign and across from the park on Stanyan. - Oh yeah. Also, the cockroach neighbor on Stanyan.

5.  the stained couches and round tables at Cafe La Boheme and the books at Picarro with their big glass window store fronts all lit up on a cold, dark night in the Mission - Just an aside: Boheme couches and tables are all still there, but they are much more stained and dirty. The whole place is dingy and uninviting--scary almost. Picarro has turned into a tapas restaurant and they took out all the bookshelves full of books. 

6. Being all nervous when walking in to a warehouse party and then once inside forgetting who I even was because the music was so loud the wooden floors were moving up and down with the vibrations of it and there were people everywhere, in dresses, in wigs, in drag, in costume, undressed and everyone dancing and being part of the crazy energy of a night of secret bacchanalia. - Warehouse parties divided up into "rooms" with movies, DJ, band, performance art, regular art, in each space. Seeing some guy at the party you like from afar and asking him to dance and he does and it's very exciting!

6. Seeing U2 at that venue by the library (is it still even operational?) and REM at the Stone and someone at the Fab Mab. - That was the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium and they do still have shows there on occasion. Bono climbed on the big speaker. REM at the Stone--yes--remember Mike Mills kept winking at us from the stage and we kept turning around, thinking he was winking at someone behind us? Apparently he was quite the ladies' man. Fab Mab could have been anyone, but I'd pick the Black Athletes--they were either a punk band or a reggae/ska band, or they just wouldn't show up for the gig. You never knew which version you'd get. They were fantastic live. Saw them at The Deaf Club--a basement space with no stage, only a linoleum floor--dank, dark, probably a total fire trap. Very exciting atmosphere if the band was good. Also Club Foot--little warehouse way out off of 3rd Street with mannequin feet hanging from the ceiling. Saw Beat Happening there.

7. Getting totally drunk and literally dancing on a table at Rockin Robins (I'm not proud of that one)  - Ha ha. I once danced on a table in the balcony at the Fillmore while watching The Replacements below. I was had "backstage access" because the Catheads had opened and we were "with the band." I was so excited to see The Replacements and just assumed people danced on tables all the time. The bouncer was completely stunned and angry with me. "YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT NOW!" he shouted with this incredulous look on his face. Like a dad. I was like, sheesh. It's rock & roll, man. Apparently my friend had a fling in the closet with Bob Stinson in the dressing room. He came out dressed in a diaper for the performance and was all sweaty. Exciting times.

8. feeling "safe" at (the) Stud - A lady once pinched my butt there and smirked a bit when I turned to look at her. I was kind of flattered but I didn't know what to do. But yes--very safe and fun. So tiny. Remember the "trough" in the bathroom--yikes. I liked how the bar took up the whole room and the dance floor was kind of an after-thought, but was always packed. It was like almost dancing on top of the bar--it was so ever-present.

9. Rock n Bowl - I never went. I had a bowling phobia due to a fourth-grade bowling birthday party I attended where I was awarded the "booby" prize for bowling so badly. The birthday girl's Mom awarded me with this plastic flute-whistle thing for the lowest score. She did it with a big smile on her face. What a bitch. I was humiliated and didn't bowl for decades. Now I bowl with Jackson and I'm not bad at all. Screw you, lady from my childhood past!

10.  Tasajara bread with dill - That place smelled so good. The upper Haight had some hippie restaurants for a while where you could get bowls of bean stew and brown-colored pancakes, day or night. All gone now.

11. Roommate Referral in the Haight and those unwieldy three ring binders - Reading some of those pages was really scary and entertaining. How should our protagonists meet? I'm assuming we'll have two...? We could have just one, but then who would she talk to about all these weird adventures? Movies hardly ever feature female buddies. This is kind of a "Ghost World" idea.

12.  late breakfast at Mission Rock - Right on the water. 

13. Hamburger Mary's bathroom and french fries - The pictures on the wall were all purposefully askew. Open late-night. Remember the place open 'til 3 am? Name is slipping my mind but it was in a train car kind of in the middle of the city? Burgers and fries. Friendly atmosphere--lots of transvestites. I'll try and remember. I loved that place. 

14.  Five Spice Chicken on Polk - Didn't partake, but I used to buy all my oxford/bowing-type shoes for work (bussing tables) on Polk Street. Lots of cheap men's clothing stores there.

15.  Seeing movies at the Lumiere. Maybe Diva?  The Man Who Fell to Earth? Or was that at the Strand? That was The Strand. Weird movie. Even weirder coming out on Market Street there. Market Street Cinema was a porn theater that briefly became an club. I saw Sun Ra's Arkestra there. My friend May volunteered with a bunch of people to clean the place up to open the club and she said the seats were saturated in ways she couldn't go into detail about. It's a porn theater again. There was an incredibly cavernous Asian restaurant by there--it went on forever, like one of those "rooms within rooms" dreams. Open late night with weird flickering lighting and booths. I went there on a date and it was a really weird atmosphere. I think everyone was on drugs in there. Gone.

16. Aardvaark's on Haight and Ashbury. Still there! Still overpriced!

17. Those old stores on Grant that sold old, traditional Chinese art supplies, like paints and stamping stuff and bambook brushes. Also thrift stores on Grant that sold affordable and really good, cool vintage clothing. I still have a vintage bowling shirt from there. (What is with me and bowling? It was like I secretly craved it all those years.). Also the Postcard Palace--entire store full of postcards. All gone.

18. Musee Mechanique, of course, but at the Cliff House. - And Seal Rock Inn. We called it "Denny's By The Sea."

19. finding China Beach, like it was a new discovery every time I got there. - That's a great setting for a film. No one knows about it except for true San Franciscans. Land's End too with the fallen bunker full of graffiti.

20. Do you remember Ingrid?  Her dad's house was in North Beach.  It was the first time I'd seen recessed lighting; it was dimmed and the furniture was dark and there were mysterious objects placed with care in strategic groupings.  The feeling was ominous.  Ingrid's room was a little wedged shaped corner in the front of the Victorian with just a bed and maybe a dresser.  She was so fashionable and she called her father "Dennis". - I TOTALLY remember this. I still think about it on a regular basis. The colors and clean lines and lighting of that place with the stairwell. Never had experienced someone's parent/child relationship that way. It seemed very sophisticated and scary to me. But a very memorable place. Some young girls are so cool, like they know themselves completely at a young age. I never felt like that then. But I think I do now.

21. New Ping Yuen's fried bread and shrimp soup, so cheap, so yums. - I used to regularly get dim sum on Clement St. And Green Apple Books is still there, I believe. The Richmond is full of interesting Asian and Russian restaurants. Isn't Shem's Deli out there on Geary? Delish!

22. Thrift Town at 18th and Mission where I no longer regret not buying a perfect set of nested Fiestaware bowls for $5 - With the "17 Reasons Why" sign on top of the building. Gone.

23.  Picking blackberries and eating them unwashed on Poppy Lane - Didn't know! But did you ever go down Vermont St., which is even crookeder than Lombard? It's a hidden thing. 

24. That house in the Haight with the crazy old lady and her dressed up furniture and crash pad. Yes, she was the one who wiggled her fingers at us from the closet and said, "Yoo hoooo! It's meeeee!" while we stared, agape.

25. The optometrist shop--I remember that now--like something out of the Great Gatsby - The Later Years. Wood paneling with built-in cabinets and drawers that probably held glasses frames. If ArtHouse had existed (the nonprofit I later worked for), they might have helped set up that place for live-work. It's probably a condo now. Or God knows what. It was very cool but I remember climbing the stairs in the back and the rooms up there were full of mountains of garbage, and probably sleeping people. So scary. Like tip-toeing into an Ogre's Den. We skedaddled out of there fast. 

26. Playing at the Sound of Music with my band and inviting everyone in the audience on stage until there were 27 people up there, banging on any instruments lying around. The nice bartender, Liz, in that scary dive in that terrible neighborhood. She had a British accent and was so warm and friendly. Across the street was Turk Street Studios, where punk bands rehearsed and...did other things. I heard stories...

27. The Vats--former brewery with big beer tanks that punks lived in. I heard stories...

28. The On Broadway and Fab Mab - Punk shows getting shut down by the police on a regular basis. The dressing rooms full of graffiti and coke-addled attendants. 

29. A friend from high school turned into a Goth in SF. When I ran into her she was like something out of Middle Earth--really done up. She had many strange and sad drug tales. Like falling through the roof of her house once--I still don't know why she was on the roof. I'm still friends with her and love her dearly. She's doing really well. I like the idea of running into someone from the past who's completely altered themselves somehow. I also ran into another high school friend who was handling the ticket window to a gay dance club. It was an "Oh." Moment. Those are good moments--when people can come to the City to be themselves. Finally.

More later. This will take some EFFORT. Should be fun. Period piece. I'm thinking of classic story narratives because I'm not very strong at making up my own. But as far as dialogue and setting a location--I love doing that. 

Sorry Verdana is such a big, in-your-face font.

Sewn

Look at this marvelous mail art. With a zipper yet. How did you...? It's amazing. Hand-stitched address label. I can stuff it with shredded bills and make a little pillow out of it! Thank you—genius. And so homey.

Sans Stamps

I just had to put this up because I found it on my camera when I went to download the pictures in the Dreamers post.  A couple of weeks ago, N and A and I were taking a walk and as we passed this building, N and I commented on how interesting it was.  I had my camera so I took a picture of it.  Here's mine:

N asked to use the camera to take his own picture of it himself so I handed it to him.  He did his thing and then I took the camera back and put it in my bag without another thought.  Until this afternoon.  Here's the picture he took:

I completely forgot he'd taken that picture and when I saw it I thought, WTF?  Luckily, I'd taken the one before and that gave me the context to remember what had happened.  N is so funny.  He takes the most interesting shots, since he was very little.  He definitely has an eye.  So without even knowing it, he just sent his first mail art to you and J...sans stamps.  :)

Dreamers

I got your latest this morning as seen above.  It's truly wonderful.  This whole project has been so fun because we have totally different ways of approaching it.  I love this.

Here it is upside down.  It's just so cute and funny and amazing.

And the back of the envelope:

And here are the insides:

The top inside one looks a little like two hedgehogs having a bit of a row, or snails with fuzzy shells doing the bunny hop.  Or the hokey pokey, I can't decide.  The yellow dotted one looks like a distant cousin of that ant-like alien queen from Lilo and Stitch, but with better hair.  I like your description better than mine: "What is this?  Bat Mask Spirit needs no wings."  Very poetic!

I've never done these ink blot things.  Are they still used professionally?  Is there a standard text somewhere to find out what your interpretations mean?  

These blots remind me of another kind of interpretation: dreams.  A couple of weeks ago for work, I hired a guy from "The Consciousness Institute" to lead a workshop on Dream Interpretation.  I put together a little outline of what I hoped he would cover and then found myself sitting in on the presentation.  He didn't exactly do what I had requested, but the people who showed up seemed interested and he was somewhat engaging in his stumbling but compelling way.  I honestly thought he would bring copies of a list of approved dream symbols that people could take home and put by their bedside in the event they might wake up from a dream and want to do some spontaneous self-interpretation, but I was sadly mistaken.  He basically said that dreams are not about the story but are about parts of you, which seems pretty common sense-y, although I never analyzed my dreams before.  For example, he mentioned that dreaming about driving a car is about your ambition, your drive.  I said I have dreams of driving, but it's always from the back seat, and I can't reach the steering wheel, or the brakes or the gas without having to reach around the driver's seat, which has no one in it.  Everyone laughed, even though I wasn't trying to be funny and when I thought about it later, I must really feel that way.   One of these days I'll just have to either climb over that thing and sit in the front or remove it completely before I get into the car and just operate the vehicle from the back seat and be done with it.

He also talked about this other kind of dream that I have had for many years and it always makes me happy in the dream but when I wake up, I feel like I lost something, or left it behind.  Apparently this type of dream is very common: have you ever dreamed that you are in or live in a small, dark house; then, behind the couch, you discover this door that you hadn't seen before.  You open it and find another apartment with sunlight streaming in through the high windows.  Everything is white or off white and the furniture looks comfortable and inviting.  You feel as if you've found a secret addition to what you'd thought was your small, cramped home.  I love and hate that dream.  When I am in it, it's very exciting but I never get to experience living in that room because I always wake up before I even set foot in it.  It's aggravating.  

OK, it's my turn again...I have some ideas so stay tuned.  I am going to have to recall my days of home ec for this one.

Shlep Rock

Yuck, today is pure torpor.  It's my day off and I'm usually pretty productive but all I did this morning was play Words with Random Strangers, listen to NPR and generally do nothing.  I've got lots of beginnings and endings happening at once in my life right now and in response, my internal Ferdinand has gone haywire and kicked in with a vengeance.

I had to stop reading The Book of Lost Things.  It was going like gangbusters and I was almost finished but then suddenly it became difficult for me to keep going, like the author himself was getting tired of the story...many books these days seem like they are around 300 pages because they're supposed to be that length.   I will try to skim to the end...at the risk of sounding treacly, maybe I will again find my misplaced interest somewhere close to page 300 of this aptly titled tome?

I started reading another promising book about how creative types will rule the world.  It's an interesting premise but the author assumes too much about the future.  He seems to be coming from a pov of privilege...I don't know if I can read this one either because the writer is so patronizing.  I think he's trying to be funny but it just comes off sounding smarmy: A Whole New Mind by Dan Pink

A read a newly published book he really liked called The Vanishers (by Heidi Julavits), so I started that one last night.  It seems a little dark, a little scary, but I'll give it a shot.

Back to fairy tales and screenplays.  I like the idea of some creepiness and scariness and darkness but ultimately coming back out into light.  I guess that would be tension.  Do you like the idea of a youngish woman going to SF in the 80s, getting into some of the scenes that were abundant then, meeting a potential love interest, finding out strange stuff and getting tangentially involved but then saving herself to find herself?  I have some interesting material that we could riff off and I know you do, too...:)...For instance, did I ever tell you about the time I waited tables at Villa Romana in the Richmond?  I had a very strange, psychic experience there with a pair at one of my tables and it involved...are you sitting down?  A candy store, or a chocolate store to be more specific.

23 things I remember from SF in the 80s:
1.  The smell of North Beach in the early mornings, a mixture of strong coffee with steamed milk, freshly baked rolls and fog
2.  the wall of green that is Golden Gate Park across the street from our place and that little fruit stand with Cliff, who looked so much like Treat Williams selling produce and who knows what else
3.  Someone putting the YES in polYESter as seen on the billboard above Stanyan and Frederick Streets
4.  Pesto pizza at Crazy Dick's down the street from the sign and across from the park on Stanyan
5.  the stained couches and round tables at Cafe La Boheme and the books at Picarro with their big glass window store fronts all lit up on a cold, dark night in the Mission
6. Being all nervous when walking in to a warehouse party and then once inside forgetting who I even was because the music was so loud the wooden floors were moving up and down with the vibrations of it and there were people everywhere, in dresses, in wigs, in drag, in costume, undressed and everyone dancing and being part of the crazy energy of a night of secret bacchanalia.
6. Seeing U2 at that venue by the library (is it still even operational?) and REM at the Stone and someone at the Fab Mab.
7. Getting totally drunk and literally dancing on a table at Rockin Robins (I'm not proud of that one)
8. feeling "safe" at (the) Stud
9. Rock n Bowl
10.  Tasajara bread with dill
11. Roommate Referral in the Haight and those unwieldy three ring binders
12.  late breakfast at Mission Rock
13. Hamburger Mary's bathroom and french fries
14.  Five Spice Chicken on Polk
15.  Seeing movies at the Lumiere. Maybe Diva?  The Man Who Fell to Earth? Or was that at the Strand?
16. Aardvaark's on Haight and Ashbury
17. Those old stores on Grant that sold old, traditional Chinese art supplies, like paints and stamping stuff and bambook brushes
18. Musee Mechanique, of course, but at the Cliff House
19. finding China Beach, like it was a new discovery every time I got there
20. Do you remember Ingrid?  Her dad's house was in North Beach.  It was the first time I'd seen recessed lighting; it was dimmed and the furniture was dark and there were mysterious objects placed with care in strategic groupings.  The feeling was ominous.  Ingrid's room was a little wedged shaped corner in the front of the victorian with just a bed and maybe a dresser.  She was so fashionable and she called her father "Dennis".
21. New Ping Yuen's fried bread and shrimp soup, so cheap, so yums
22. Thrift Town (?) at 18th and Mission where I no longer regret not buying a perfect set of nested Fiestaware bowls for $5
23.  Picking blackberries and eating them unwashed on Poppy Lane

That's it for now...do you have a list?  Maybe we can start brainstorming scenes from our lists?

Saturday, we went down to the East Bay to get out of the heat and went to Vegi Foods on Vine Street in Berkeley for an early dinner before heading home.  I don't know if you've ever eaten there, but that place has been a source of comfort for me for many, many years.   I always returned whenever I had a craving for the black bean chowmein or the "sheets" or the potstickers.   Saturday we found out they are going out of business because the new landlord has raised the rent.  This is one of the endings I mentioned above.  This restaurant is a Berkeley landmark.  Some people I know don't like it, they say the food is too bland...but to them I say, order the potstickers!  Or the walnuts!  But I won't be able to say that anymore because Vegi Foods is gone by the end of this month.  If you get a chance, pay them a visit.  Maybe you can convince them to restart their business in your area?!

Cloudy with a chance of postcards

Stormy weather with lovely red stamp and cutouts. Once again, I have to block out some of the design elements *frown*, but I like holding this up and changing the color schemes through the clouds.

Yesterday we had our first really fiery sunset in a long time and I wondered if it was because of the Richmond oil refinery fire this week. Or just really hot weather, mixed with skittery clouds, which were probably somewhat caused by the refinery fire. Anyway, it was fiery. Our dependence on oil rears its ugly, dangerous head (again).

Fairytales: Oh, Ferdinand. Even more timely in this age of helicopter parenting and all-star little-league sports and expensive Lego engineering camps. Can you imagine Ferdinand growing up in Walnut Creek among all the type-A ("A" for ambitious) parents and their scheduled offspring? I always liked the Disney narrator in the film for saying, "He just wanted to smelllll the flowers..." Whenever I smell a flower, I can't help thinking of that.



Lol at the mother cow's voice. He knew they wouldn't pick him and he DIDN'T CARE. Ferdinand don't care about bullfighting.

Hansel and Gretal is a good one too. Of course, Gretal tricking the witch into fattening up Hansel while making her feel a chicken bone, and then getting her to enter the oven is pretty badass all around. The whole tale is crazy dark: parents dumping their kids in the woods not once, but twice. Clever kids almost getting eaten anyway. A candy house hiding a cannibal. Holy Mother of God. The "Book of Lost Things" really delves into all that darkness and then some. Hansel and Gretal taps into so many childhood fears and just barely gets them out of there in one piece.

I've always had a thing for the Snow Queen. Another kids-close-to-doom, but a world traveling romance. I read it every few years and wish it could be made into a decent movie. Looks like Disney is going to have a go at it, finally. Annoying webcaster ahead:



I just got a call from my freelance boss in Marin. Company's closing after 24 years in business and he needs a Web site update. My lazy flower-smelling days are over for a brief time. I'll send you something in the mail in the next couple of days.

The Snow Queen in San Francisco in the 80s. I know what kind of snow that would involve...

The Ferdinand Effect

Can Ferdinand be considered a fairy tale?  If so, he's always been an iconic hero from my earliest memories.  I haven't analyzed this too thoroughly, but I truly love the idea of  defying the chaos and demands of the world simply by doing what you love best.  It's so epiphanic...it's genius.  And it's been the driving force behind so much of my life...I simply invoke the Ferdinand principle whenever I am feeling pressured by the various demands in my life, be they career, financial, what have you...of course, this will explain my lack of ambition and hence my pathetic earning potential, but I've been able to smell an awful lot of flowers over the years, some more aromatic, let's say, than others.

Other fairy tales I've liked for their imagery are Hansel and Gretel.  Who doesn't love finding your favorite candy in BFE?  Seriously, though, the imagery the story evokes is so amazing.  It's totally a sensory experience and I love that.  And Gretel is so very crafty, a virtual survivalist.

I also like Little Red Riding Hood, but she gets eaten in the end, as does Goldilocks...or at least neither of them are very good role models, just setters of bad examples for kids who might misbehave or make poor choices...

I'll come up with a better list and add it to the comments.  While I was reading your post below, I thought of a story line something like this: protagonist in 80s SF goes there to find love, maybe finds heartache instead, but because of that or in spite of it, she finds what she loves to do.  Vague, I know, but it's a character who metamorphoses from a caterpillar to a butterfly via a trainwreck.  OK, I'll stop here for now...the plot thickens or at least emulsifies and hopefully doesn't curdle.

Johnny (or Janey) Quest

Hey, I got your postcard. That's cool cut-out action! How do you do what you do so well? Do you have one of those circle-cutting Exacto knives? I could never control mine too well. I'll post a photo today.

I like your fairy tale in SF idea. The 80s are kind of fading from my memory—I was so young then. A teenager. Good age for a fairy tale though--starting out in life, maturing into an adult. Except the twist is I found a ton of adults who were not mature at all and were seemingly clinging to their feckless youth with everything they had.

Would it be funny to make the protagonist(s) already mature and wise (if raw and naive at first)? And everyone else completely out of their minds? Kind of like Through the Looking Glass, but semi-reality-based on SF.

What are your favorite fairy tales? When I was a kid, I always changed the adventurer-type characters into girls in my mind. I pictured a princess leaving a palace, dressing up in guy clothes with her trusty bow and arrow, and heading out to slay some dragons and such. I held onto this idea for a long time throughout my later childhood. I just didn't like traditional girl roles in stories. Still don't. There's attempts now to make girls more active in fairy tale movies and I wonder if little girls are relating to that. I bet some are.

Well, I'm rambling again. I guess if you're thinking fairy tale--the quest is kind of the epic goal the hero must accomplish. The quest in SF during the 80s was to survive on next to nothing while pursuing "art." Did anyone we know achieve this? Now it's impossible in that city because of the cost of living. The economy won! The artists must move to Oakland. And now that's becoming too expensive for many (rents are crazy-high). It's an ongoing quest in California. I hear Milwaukee has an active artist community. It's probably pretty affordable.

If the quest is to find true love, then this fairy tale would fail miserably, at least for a younger character in the 80s. I knew people who shacked up with each other then but none of them lasted. I think I better think about this further. Coming-of-age script where no one comes of age, finds maturity, true love or artistic freedom. Would the happy ending be the protagonist moving back to San Leandro or something? What a downer! Ha.

Fairy Tales

I just read over your last comments below and still haven't quite gotten to process all of it.  It's so packed with ideas and insights and commentary.  Unfortunately, as I've gotten older, ok, matured, I've gotten quite slow and basically now plod through this life, needing hours or days to accomplish what most can do in minutes.  My current theory on this is to blame the inundation that is contemporary daily life but that could just be an excuse for my obtusity, if that's a word.

Let's see...I am reading The Book of Lost Things.   He has a way of weaving a sentence together that makes you want to keep going to see what will happen next.  It's a scary fairy tale.  The story drags you in and make you feel as though you are also between sleep and reality and  if only you'd open your eyes, you'd be back home again...or at least that's where I suspect it is going...but I'm not there yet.  Thanks for the recommendation.  I don't read a lot of fiction.

How do you feel about fairy tales?  Do you think they have a place in 80s SF?  I see a lot of faded colors and bad hair.  Maybe a warehouse party or two.  I'm thinking about sending you a list of some of my most vivid memories of that time.  The ones that have a little shimmering edge to them, for lack of a better way to describe what I remember and how it exists in my mind's eye.  This all sounds so stupid when it's written down...hmmmm. 

OK, reality has arrived in the form of a mumbling 11 year old who is now doing curls on the couch and reading his favorite author: Jim Davis.  I must finish up...by mentioning...I just sent out a small item that, upon reflection should reveal its destination.  If not reflection, then it requires a little back lighting...if it doesn't arrive, I can post some pictures of it.  The post person seemed a bit doubtful...this language thing can be so clunky in the hands of a bumbler like me...anyways, I hope you get it soon!  :)

PS: I read both of the Bridge books and both were very readable, very good.  It's been a few years, maybe I'll read them again.  I've never seen the movies...I'll check netflix...we might have them at the library.  Speaking of the library, I just bought the Ben Taylor book (I buy all the 700s (the arts) for the collection (my favorite part of my job) and just put a hold on it as it's not in yet.

Big Wheel

The little big wheel rolled in on Monday and had me laughing from the second I saw it.

It's retro in every way:

1. spirograph
2. that painty spinning wheel thing that I can't remember the name of
3. hippies!
4. Laughing Cow, I presume :)

 I must quote from the contents (three hippies (four if you count their dog), and two spirographs):

On the back of the spirographs:
"...J and his friend C helped make this box and the only thing I could think to fill it was: Hippies.  A box full of hippies for you.  Growing up in Cali, a hippie sighting was like bird-watching and very satisfying..."

The Hippies:

"We will not eat processed, genetically altered food. Locally grown and organic ONLY. Amen.

 "I have modeled my entire life after Jerry.  I carry on his legacy."

"I will grow up to be an investment banker!"

(this has to be an homage to "I'm used to be a heroin addict, now I'm a methadone addict".? )

"Woof!  Woof!  I have a tick on my thigh! Woof! Woof!"

(another homage to: "My name is Rags.  Woof!  Woof!"?)

I feel like I know these people.   I won't mention any names but some of my best friends are hippies!    Some are born hippies, some become hippies. And in 2012, some buy their hippieness at Target and wear it on casual Fridays.  

*   *   *

I read the Eudora Welty short story.  Thanks for the handy link!  It was really atmospheric and transported me from the couch to a place I'd never been before, and it also reminded me of some of the fly specky towns we'd just driven through on our trip.   Sometimes this town reminds me of the smallness of that town...where you can't even go out into your own yard without bumping into twenty people you know and probably don't want to see.  Most of them being hippies and all!

I never had a thing for Woody Allen, just the movies.  I must've been very influenced by Annie Hall.  She was so non-commital.  It was a very useful attitude in so many ways: "oh, I'm not into addiction...it's too much of a commitment", that sort of thing.  I don't remember celebrities I had crushes on, do you?  I must have...but this memory of mine is not very memorable.  Jeff Bridges was always interesting, especially in The Last Picture Show.  If I were a little kid these days and had to pick a celebrity, I don't know that any are really that intriguing.  I never went in for those guy bands but then again, they didn't really exist in the 70s/80s, did they?  Does David Cassidy count? 

I haven't been reading much lately.  I'm working my way through a partially annoying graphic novel, "Friends with Boys".  I don't know where it's going but it's kind of boring.  Then, for work, I'm going to try to get into Negima, a manga series.  I tend to like non-fiction more than fiction.   I wish I liked fiction more.  What have you been reading?  If you have any title suggestions, I'd love to try them.  

Do you want me to look into doing a display of our mail art here?  Or if you'd like to, you can ask to use one of the display cases at your local public library.  Let me know what you think.  

Well, my aunt and cousin are visiting for the next three weeks which will make it challenging for me to work on much...I will try, but please bear with me.  I will get something out to you...

PS: yes, I would love to get together in SF at the maritime museum and musee mechanique (my favorite place even in its new incarnation)...let's try for September?

PPS: do you want to knock around some ideas for a screenplay?  Nothing very serious, just brainstorming, etc.