Darby Strong

Playing point. Delivering the rock.

What Do You Call a Guy With No Arms and No Legs Tacked to a Wall?

Art. Art is inherent to our human experience, and while I don’t know much about art in general, I know that I’d like to be more involved with the “art scene” in Portland. So yesterday, after lunch with a friend, I made a pilgrimage to check out some of the current installations in the Pearl District.

I ended up visiting seven galleries, and my second stop provided more of what I was after; inspiration and awe. Chambers@916 is presently showing work by Scott Johnson that plays with light and illusion, which was interesting, but quickly dissolved into the “um, ok” category for me. Better yet is this amazing installation by Ethan Jackson called strait.

strait is an unconventional video work in which distorted images swirl together on a pedestal’s surface. Viewed in the accompanying cylindrical mirrors, the images resolve into paired elemental landscapes.

So, what does it look like? It’s best to view it, really:

Next stop was the Elizabeth Leach Gallery, which provided this very large, white space full of hand stitched, hand dyed quilts, called Portraits, by Anna Von Mertens. Each piece reflected a famous persons “aura”, and are named with titles like “Marilyn Monroe’s Aura After Warhol”.

Also here is Folded Light sculpture by Hap Tivey. An all around great space, but beware of gallery dealer types in all black with serious, various looks over pushed down glasses.

My favorite stop of the day was completely spontaneous. As I was strolling down the street, amazed and grateful for this beautiful and leisurely Thursday afternoon, just me and the city to do as we pleased, I noticed this unfinished space that looked like a construction zone with pictures of homes taped to the windows. It was hard to see in, but one of the huge windowed doors was wide open, beckoning passers-by inside. I happily took the invitation. Standing in the middle of this huge space was artist Curtis Speer, surrounded by his beautifully raw photos, a perfect fit for the unfinished and highly texturized environment.

I’m naturally drawn to photos of decay – I love the texture, and there’s something eerily peaceful to seeing decomposition frozen in time. Curtis Speers’ dwell is described as “a visual story telling of the places we reside and the things on which we fret.”

Speers’ bio explains:

Portland photographer…shows us the power that the past can have and that we can change our present situation if we just change our perspective…Abused as a kid, Curtis knows the importance of stopping the cycle…”

Curtis has also made several short films, one of which coincides with his current exhibit, both called Dwell. Visit his youtube page to view all of them, and check out his Facebook page for upcoming info and to connect in that sphere.

I had the pleasure of rapping a bit with Curtis about his photography, what brought him to Portland, and what he’s got on the horizon. I suggest you stop by and meet him yourself, perhaps for “First Thursday” next week if you’re in Portland? You can find Curtis and his work at 411 NW Park at Flanders in Portland.

My final parting note is that if you find yourself in need of inspiration and your vessel needs a fillin’, head out to your city’s art spaces and catch the creative spirit.

Trim Tab Book Review

About a year ago, I was tasked with writing a book review for Trim Tab, Cascadia Green Building Council’s e-zine. It was interesting to revisit this a year later, and while it was excruciatingly difficult to write knowing that my colleagues and peers eyes would be on it, the process was worthwhile.

Here it is, for your reading pleasure:

While lobbyists wined and dined delegates during recent conversations in Copenhagen, Al Gore reminds us that the future of the climate crisis is in our collective hands by offering us his newest book, Our Choice: A Plan To Solve The Climate Crisis. That Gore opens with Kurt Vonnegut is a welcome beginning, providing a sense that we should prepare to digest a raw and spirited truth. The message Gore sends on the wings of Vonnegut’s cynicism is that:

Despair serves no purpose when reality still offers hope. Despair is simply another form of denial, and it invites inaction. We don’t have time for despair. The solutions are available to us! We need to make our choice to act now.

As one that is more naturally drawn to Vonnegut’s penetrating, somewhat dark view of humanity, it is this kind of needed hope that I, and likely many of us, need in these troubling times.

It’s clear, too, that Mr. Gore has responded to the criticism of “An Inconvenient Truth” as being short on solutions by providing us with this incredibly applicable guide. In doing so, he provides us with the needed framework to move from a fossil-fuel based economy to one that transitions towards the goal of “350 parts-per-million”, the upper limit for safe atmospheric carbon concentration that NASA scientist James Hansen identified.

Gore began his task by gathering leading experts from around the world for 30 intensive “Solution Summits”. The culmination of these lengthy conversations provides this books’ blueprint, with practical and well-developed results.

First, Gore examines energy sources; concentrated solar thermal (CST) power and photovoltaic (PV) power are logically explained and evaluated. Wind harvesting, geothermal energy, and biomass are all well analyzed versus the backdrop of our present coal-hungry, fossil fuel based addiction. No mention was made of using solar thermal technologies to heat water for residential applications, though, which is definitely an oversight.

Still, Gore makes up for it by providing an updated view on smart grid technologies, including modernizing our present grids, storage opportunities, and progress in the development of batteries. He also does a great job of insisting that energy efficiency is the needed first step in solving our climate crisis, affirming that it is also the most cost-effective and most quickly implemented option we possess.

The easy-to-grasp arc mapping our current crisis and the science behind it, an overview of the options we can presently rely on, to the very real political obstacles we face, forms a logical pathway to help us create a future positive outcome.

First and foremost is our need for a paradigm shift in both the way we think about this crisis, and in our consumptive behavior. This thinking reminded me of Thomas Princen’s The Logic of Sufficiency, in which the idea of sufficiency (not meant to infer “doing without”, but rather doing well) claims that a society cannot operate as if “there’s never enough and never too much”.

Gore provides a great anecdote, too, retelling the story of constructing medieval cathedrals. He describes how our ancestors had the ability to think long term, knowing that these projects would take a century to complete. The message, of course, is that we do possess the ability to act now to affect change for a future we, ourselves, will not fully experience.

Touching on everything from how a simple turbine works to carbon capture and sequestration, from deforestation and agriculture to carbon offset programs, this textbook-like compilation provides the layman and expert alike a thorough and comprehensive reference guide.

Presented in book form that feels like a power point presentation (no need to reinvent the wheel, right?), the graphics are at times beautiful and stark in depicting the grandness of our planet and its life, to downright pedestrian while visually describing the “urbanization and growth of megacities” and other robust ideas that require a simpler translation.

This elegantly allows for the accessibility an effort like this – saving the world, that is – needs. And while humanity may not yet be fully prepared to enact these remedies in order to survive, hopefully we at least die trying.

One Year Ago, Today

On a gloriously Pacific Northwest-style sunny Sunday afternoon, we had just come from seeing the indie movie Wendy and Lucy to meet up with friends for a late lunch and a couple of Bloody Marys. On the way home, David suggested we go to the Humane Society “just to look”. Having suggested that to him many times before with no bites, I was excited to see the tides turn.

Once inside, we turned the first corner and that’s when we saw her, peeking around the concrete half-wall in her doggie cubicle, looking up at us with that wrinkled forehead and those satellite seeking ears. David fell in love at first site, and wasn’t interested at ALL in looking at any other dogs. I thought that we should look at EVERY dog there, just to make sure we weren’t missing our destined canine, knowing full well we had already found our girl.

After a week of waiting, and talking to landlords, and scrounging money, and trying to decide if this was the right time, and going back to see her again for a longer visit, David brought her home on March 6th, 2009. Her name changed from ‘Tinka’ to Lucy*, and our lives changed from dogless to a home full of dog love and dog hair.

Lucy was six months when we brought her home; timid, nervous, and a little shell shocked, I think. She slept like a rock her first night with us, maybe feeling like she could finally let down her guard. And from that day forward, we feel so privileged to have her in our lives, because she brings us so much laughter, joy, and magic. This girl has taught us to be more patient, to laugh more and not take anything too seriously, to pay better attention to things, and to enjoy each day.

She is orange and muscular, with eight tiny little white hairs at the very tip of her tail and black spots on the back of her pink tongue. She’s an athlete, a trickster, and a wildly energetic playmate. She loves other dogs, is transfixed by cats, and loves to try to catch squirrels and black crows. She is crouching dingo, hidden Lucy, as she gets low in the “tall grasses” (in her mind) prior to pouncing on other dogs at play. She can take a walk without a leash, comes when she’s called (well, almost always), and can’t stand to be away from her people. She doesn’t like water much unless she’s at the beach or the river, prefers baths inside to ones with a hose, and she loves lettuce, walnuts, and cucumbers. She will straight sleep on top of you, and wake you with loving kisses. She grunts and groans and grumbles, and can make an entire game out of sparring with one, single, tiny kibble. She is fluent in canine AND English, and is the softest furred mutt in all the land.

One night early in our canine relationship, David and I went out while Lucy tried her new spot in the large, tile covered bathroom with the European-style shower. Upon our return, the bathroom was full of water, the rugs were soaked, and there wasn’t a dry area ANYWHERE. Yet, the water was off, and Lucy was bone dry. Not even her paws were wet. Since then, we have known that she is a shapeshifter, and catch her taking the form of coyote, deer, and penguin, along with her native African Bush dingo spirit.

I suppose it would be fair to suggest that we’re a bit obsessed and mono-focused on Lucy, and some might say fanatical, since we literally spend every day gushing about this most amazing dog with whom we spend our days. But we really wouldn’t have it any other way, and as the proud caretakers of this magical and loving girl, we’ll own your name-calling, smiling every step of the dog-walking way.

*her namesake is the dog in the movie we saw on the day of our first meeting, and also one shot in Portland, based on a Portland writer’s book of short stories)