Friday, October 14, 2016

Smiths - Through the Ages

It was on the Smith River in the Jedediah Redwoods that Smith signed on. 

I'd recently read Patti Smith's 
latest literary effort M Train 
and was fantasizing about us 
traveling together and how I'd call her Smith. 

Then Ms. Cook got ahold of the idea. 

Thus, we have: 


                      Smith Brothers cough drops

Jedediah Smith - Outdoorsman nonpareil

                      Dr. Smith - Lost in Space


                                                    Patti - Singer, songwriter

Will Smith - Actor
Willard Carroll "Will" Smith Jr. (born September 25, 1968) is an American actor, producer, rapper, and songwriter. In April 2007, Newsweek called him "the most powerful actor in Hollywood". Smith has been nominated for five Golden Globe Awards and two Academy Awards, and has won four Grammy Awards.

The Smiths
The Smiths were an English rock band formed in Manchester in 1982. The band consisted of vocalist Morrissey, guitarist Johnny Marr, bassist Andy Rourke and drummer Mike Joyce. Critics have called them the most important alternative rock band to emerge from the British independent music scene of the 1980s.

                                                                       Smithsonian...Museum of Natural History

Smith & Wesson 


Smith...the Cat

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Kristen Mendenhall in Jemez Springs - Ends Oct 13

When in ABQ I sometimes stay at Ms. Cook's blue-collar hovel in the Northeast Frights. After over a year of 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. barking from the dog two doors away I complained. The next door neighbor, a farm-raised bigot, took it upon himself to get revenge. Between his antics and the other three neighbors' dogs, not to mention the increased traffic noise over the last ten years, the place is, for me, almost unbearable. Ms. Cook's company makes it impossible to stay away, but it was time for some fresh air. 

We, Smith & I, drove to Jemez Springs, the valley of which is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Stopping for an art fix at the gallery, I was delighted to find Ms. Kristen Mendenhall's work. The individual pieces on this wall were priced at $245.00, but at a mere $2,205.00 for the "set," it seems a shame to break them up. 

(It's occassions such as this where my Sony Cybershot displays its weakness. If anyone has a Nikon D600 (or some such) just lying around I'd be happy to put it to use.)

Panel in lower right

Upper Right Panel. 

I enjoy the perspective and/or depth often seen in abstract and nonrepresentational paintings. Once, while gazing into the infinitude of a Jackson Pollock, I nearly fell over. The contrast in colors and triangular section at the bottom center of this panel offer easy access to the other dimensions. 

On my second visit

She also does photography. She explained they are one-inch closeups of rust, the texture of which she's captured without exposing the context. 

Her Artist's Statement is the best explanation I've read of the attraction of abstract and/or non-representational art. So hie thee hence...and the Fall colors are just getting going too.

Her show will be up through October 13th.

Here's her website.  This link is to her paintings. This one is her photographs. She also has work in gypsum.

Two and a half minutes about her work.

The Gallery is at the south end just before you get into "downtown." 

Highway 485 is 4 miles (6.4 km) north of Jemez Pueblo Visitors Center.

300 feet (0.9 km) across the bridge over the Jemez River on 485. 

I stopped to ask how late (into the year) Loma Linda C.G. was gonna be open. The HOST assured me All Year. I'm skeptical. Here's the number for the ranger station to check....575-829-3535. It's $5.00 per site. No hookups, pit toilets. 

Friday, September 30, 2016

I Can't Go on; I'll Go On

72 hours is my limit. Beyond that and reality gets twisted; things turn ugly. Tomorrow we'll have been here, in ABQ, a week. 

I recently read about a book: When Breathe Becomes Air in which the author cites a line from Samuel Beckett's The Unnamable; it's the title of this post. I first read Waiting for Godot at age 16...on acid. As it did then, it inspires guffaws, even when things seem too much. When Joe Pesce and Tricklock Theater performed it back in '82 (?) I laughed so hard I fell off my chair. I tho't it odd that the rest of the audience wasn't laughing.

I have several copies of Waiting For Godot, the library has the book about breathing. I have yet to read The Unnamable.There're 47 holds on 29 copies on the breath book and as of a few minutes ago there are 4,508 reviews on Amazon. I was impressed by how well-written the one-star reviews, comprising 1%, are. And after reading a few I decided not to enter the "hold" queue.

The trips have themes. The last one was titled Existential Dilemma. My card and the blog featured a picture of me, shirtless, tits nearly dragging the ground (teats give milk; tits don't.), struggling to open a beer at 9:00 in the morning. I don't usually "drink" that early, but this was a special occasion and I was attempting to rise to it.

Death has been in the forefront for many of us these recent years. Sometimes I wonder how you can go on. 

Serendipitously, I ran across this...

A Hopi Prophecy  (This could be a good time!)

...and went back and found this:

Both convey that joie de vivre. I include 'em here for future reference. Unlike some folks who write for their readers, this is my way of keeping track of where I was when and what happened. But perhaps the above links'll resonate with you too.

Thanks to RPM Automotive, Phoebe, my '96 Geo Tracker, now runs like a Swiss watch. And thanks to Koenig's Metalmorphosis she'll soon have a new chapeau (roof rack). Estimated date of departure is 10/13. In the meantime Smith is plotting tricks.

I have, for many years, made attempts at the accordion. Here's one from the know -- ought one, ought two, ought seven.

(The video was crafted by none other than Ms. Michelle D. Cook, cat-wrangler extraordinaire.) I'm playing an expensive -- $40.00 -- toy that died an untimely death when it was put in storage. Heat melted the bees wax that held the reeds in place.

It was in Port Orford, Oregon the other day that I was inspired --- you know who you are -- to once again search for an instrument. Smith and I drove to Jemez Springs to look at one seen on Craigslist. The Fall colors are just getting going and the afternoon light gave truth to the phrase Land of Enchantment. If you're touring on highway 4 you might enjoy the side trip on 485 to The Tunnels. The accordion was too big.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Arizona Indian Arts - Winslow Art Gallery

In the olde days it was a dangerous place. Passersby would throw bottles and share their local humor. An example: Wanta lift? Stick a jack up yer ass! (H'yuk, h'yuk, h'yuk.) 

Times have changed. Now they welcome people from all over the world. Well, they welcome their money, anyway.

The Indian Market at the exit beyond the east end of town had a new paint job so I stopped to check it out. After the five minute tour of the China-made tommy-hawks I strolled out into the sun to be met with a pleasant, "Nice day isn't it?"

Raymond Clark, Sr., an artist, offered to show me another gallery. I followed to the Love's Truck stop/Denny's where the quality was better but boring.

I think he must have been testing me 'cuz the next one was it! Some of the most original work I've seen. Over 40 artists. Arizona Indian Arts is small but the quality is astounding! 202 E 2nd Street, Winslow, Arizona, 86047. Ph: 928-221-1950. email:

It's on the corner of 2nd and the one-way (Rt 66) going east.

Lawrence E. Melendez, owner/artist (above) knows everyone personally and can answer any question.

I bought this 4 1/2 inch by 3 and 3/4 inch, inkjet print by Joe Maktima for $20.00. This is a terrible photo, it doesn't show the depth of color, but I didn't want to take it out of the cellophane. My collector days are over, but the gifts may sit around for a while before finding homes.

Friday, September 23, 2016

We Could be Heros

They are my new heros. Although Christine died in June of 2010 of cancer and Otto entered the Mercedes museum in Stuttgart, Gunther is somewhere in Bavaria. I surmise he's debating whether to go with a 3-cylinder Metro or a 1996 Tracker. 

Note the similarity in the vehicles. 

Photo is by this guy (I think).

Without that two-legged peace symbol on the front you'd hardly be able to tell 'em apart.

Another article.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Lovell Canyon Aerobat - Clark County, Nevada

It was 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday, Sept 14.

You were doing rolls and loops over Lovell Canyon, Nevada about 30 miles west of Las Vegas. I was camped in my 1996 Geo Tracker not far from a telephone line road when I saw the flash of your running lights. At first I was annoyed at the intrusion, but quickly realized what was up.

The finale was spectacular! A death-defying triple, end-over-end cartwheel! Something I've never seen anyone do before! 

If you read this, please contact me, I'd appreciate the opportunity to congratulate you on your skills. My email is in my profile.

Another sign...of the times?

Detail !!!!

For those who're curious.....COALATREE

One more....

Friday, September 9, 2016

The Gods Must Be Angry

I had begun to to think we'd angered the gods. Camp after camp was too near a road, adjacent a shooting range, and in one amazing incident WAY the hell out in the wildest steppe of Central Oregon, several trucks, one pulling a 25'  horse trailer full of dogs pulled up barely 300' away. Four women climbed out and began training the dogs. 

First up straddles her ATV and drives a quarter mile up the side of the nearby hill. From this vantage she can observe the dog's workings, but we're downwind. The breeze carried the shrill whistlings and the voice commands, calm and assured at first, were soon growing strident as the dog succumbed to the need to meet and greet us. I put on my pants and glared, but the distance was too far to be effective. 

Leaving, I stopped by to learn how they'd picked this spot out of the millions of surrounding acres. Contrary to what GPS assured was Nat'l Forest, I was politely informed I was on private land. It's been known to be wrong, but since they weren't the actual owners I shared my skepticism...and trundled off. Sheesh!

And so it went. 

A week later I was reviewing some notes on campsites and realized we were sitting on the doorstep. Driving through the creek was cake for Phoebe and as we rounded the bend next to the tree we knew we were home.

Smith went wild. THIS was what she'd signed on for! She got a running start from the far side of the open area and flung herself half way up! 

Faith restored.