Eddie's Club, Missoula, Montana 1970

They say that eye witnesses to something aren't real reliable in terms of an accurate report of the event.  Even more so after 49 years since it took place.
So take that into account.

Two posts below this (for future archeologists) the moose lodge I referred as a bar really wasn't.  But it felt like one to me.  I've been in many like it, while living in Montana all those years ago.  It got me thinking and I realized that by walking into a bar in Montana in 1970,  it started and led everything to this very point in time for me.

It was by walking into a bar that the man behind the bar and the photos he took that ran down the wall changed everything.

Eddie's Club.  The man behind the bar was Lee Nye.  If you've been in an old bar in Montana, you would know it would be filled with regulars.  Old Timers.  Middle Timers becoming Old Timers.  And the young pups.
With names like Plato, Dutch, Honk, Yum Yum, Rock Creek Hermit.
Those would be the faces on the photographs on the wall of the bar.  Black and White.  Natural lighting that shafted down in the alley behind the club.

It was those faces, weathered from the winters, from the Bourbon Ditches, from their cigarettes, that turned me.   The eyes.  Someone can do this with a camera?  Make something so compelling to look at, with light and lens?

Lee would put down his Boston Shaker, pick up his camera and haul a regular out back to photograph them.  Always always with truth and compassion for the person.  Dignity.

As I remember Lee was a gruff one.  Had a big cigar in his mouth, missing a good portion of a finger.

Well, Lee offered photo classes and I signed up.  Borrowed a 35mm camera.

He taught an incident light system of exposure determination and the film development schedule.
It was the system taught to him from a commercial photography school he attended in California.

We went on a field trip up Highway 200 to a ranch right out of a Hollywood backlot, complete with snow capped Mountains rising up the fields.  Lee drove his car, a 55 Chevy (don't fact check on this one) with straight pipes and a white Hurst gear shift knob.  Cigar smoke getting ripped out his open window.

Lee liked one of my photos.

Maybe that was the moment that led me here?

The idea of doing what I do now was planted there.  Missoula 1970.

He, of course, had no idea of his influence on me. I decided to go to the same school he did in California.  I was retaught the same incident light metering system.  Learned the view camera, and lighting and problem solving that is (was) commercial photography from there.
Been doing it since.  Wouldn't had it any other way.
Today I used the same tripod I had in school, a model 1500 from Majestic out of Chicago.  Goes up 8feet.

So Thank You Lee.  It's a beautiful thing when something gets paid forward without any knowledge or agenda.

Addendum December 27, 02019.  Lee's widow contacted me to tell me he rarely smoked cigars because she was very allergic to them.  He did roll his own smokes though using Velvet tobacco.

Production Time

I came real close to taking a baseball bat to a personal project that had me near breaking point.

First I was going to smash it.
Then I was going to burn it.
Then I was going to piss on the ashes.

And then Ken showed up with this one morning.  And this was going to be the exact opposite of what was taking place at that very moment.

And then a couple days later Ken showed up with ten sheets of this, that I cut into that.

So it's production time.  Mindless work really but necessary after the one off-super intensive-fragile as hell-reality bending work I was doing.

Two Hours in a Car

For 15 minutes in a bar.

We play the open mike at Sonoma Moose Lodge!!!!!!!

Ok, so it was a "rent party" so to speak, to raise some money for a friend.

The Barker for the evening

Off key as hell but what the hell, Tom took our early spot so we could go on later

And Ken waiting for our three spot slot to finally...finally...finally open up,

It's long been on my bucket list, to play the Moose Lodge in Sonoma.  I can now move onto #435, get my Tarot read in Boise, Idaho.

A 200 Amp Towel Hook

"They're giving you 200 amps, if I were you I'd take it."  Barry, the across the street electrical engineer was looking at the main panel coming into the studio.  It was a 200 amp panel but only drawing 150 because of a smaller fuse installed at sometime during it's life.

Bringing in 200 also meant a new 200 amp sub panel which meant running bigger copper wire from the main to the sub.  I asked the electrician to leave the lengths of 1/2" wire for me.

The big courtyard doors still need handles to be made and I've had this idea of using copper somehow for them.  How copper will be used for the handles is unknown to me at this point.  I wanted to see the strength of a twist of a twist as an experiment.  Probably not strong enough to swing open a 200 pound door but certainly stout enough to hold a towel by the shower.

Color matches the calligraphy of the poetry on the bathroom wall as well.

The Wall of Anomalies

My brother's son, Will moved here not too long ago.  Because of a woman.  And because, well, California.  He fits in here.
A couple days ago we go on a road trip together so we could have a talk unimpeded for half a day.  And to take him to my church.

One of my favorite places to stop and pee.  Will doing what he does.

At this point I don't need to be let into my church.  I'm allowed to walk in and turn on the lights by myself.

Will starts to talk, which he does....a lot....and I shush him.  The next 15 minutes he walks around taking Communion.  He touches, smells, stands before each of the offerings.  He says he's never seen anything like it.
"I could sleep on this one."

Last time I set aside a piece of wood that wouldn't fit in my car so eventually we go looking for it.

We head up to The Wall of Anomalies, that area of the sawmill they stand up too small, orphans, mismatches, bookmarkless, warped, twisted, punked, and all of the above.  There's a small congregation of women from Laney College woodworking classes going through the wall as well.

Find my one piece with my name on it and Will says we ain't leaving here without another.
There it was, we muscle it out from behind some other castoffs standing there.
I do a rough calculation of the board foot in it and what I'm thinking would be the $/bd. ft.
I come with $600.  Nick, the second in command, the foreman of Aborica, tells me $30.
"It's from the Wall of Anomalies," he says.
The piece I came to get was $10.  You see that's what happens when you make yourself as unuseful as you can. The gnarly twisted tree doesn't get cut down as much as the straighter ones do. (Read some Tasoism to understand this.)

Stopping in Olema for a beer and bowl of garlic fries.

Red Gum Eucalyptus with the most beautiful swoop of sap wood around the top.  And a topographic piece of what I think is Walnut.
Not sure which, but one is going to be a light.
Or not.  I still need to sit and listen to some gospel coming from them.

First Rain

09.16.02019

Second Rain
09.18.02019

Vibes, Berimbaus and Ed

Whiteboard message left by Toicinho, the Berimbau maker.

Morning after the Dirty Snacks.

Two good time events at 3003.  Last Sunday we hosted a house concert.  Love throwing open the doors here so the love can flow out.  Nothing better than vibraphone heading up a 7 piece jazz project.  An almost unbelievably complex 3D sound came out.  During a break in the set due to a beer bottle being broken, I get to tell my only joke to the whole crowd.  I guess that allows me to put "stand up comedian" on my resumé.  The one and only photo I took. 

Yesterday Zoe hosted a Berimbau /Capoeira making event with a Roda afterwards.  The wood, gourds and master Berimbau maker, Toicinho from Brazil came into the place the group spent the entire day whittling, spokeshaving, drilling, sanding.

The Roda afterward, with the gates open to Peralta St.  Allowed the passerby's an expected treat as they walked down the sidewalk.

Now Ed.  In between those two events, Ed, father of Dillon came for his first visit to California.  To fill you in, it appears my extended family from back east is moving to Cali.  Well, ok, a lot of them.  My niece and her boyfriend Dillon are two of them.  Like just moved here.  So Ed came out and since he's a player, we have a room filling jam at Tony's Vice Room for him.  He comes in, sits down and immediately launches into "Can't always get what you want".  He takes a short phone vid of us and sends it out saying, "I'm playing with a bunch of cats in Oakland, one of the best days of my life" or so says Dillon.  Welcome Dillon to the bay.  And Ed.

Probably the first time since the invention of the phone camera, I didn't see anyone (besides Ed) taking any pics so nothing to see here.