To Eugene to finally see Tice’s Paterson, etc. The show ends tomorrow and is at the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art. But first! My Papa is picking me up to go look at vintage (70’s era) soda machines from Craigslist ads I emailed him this week. Mostly he’s just browsing, but I’ve got a feeling this weekend he’ll finally buy. Honey is off at the Portland Swap Meet, swapping and meeting his way into God knows what (just like every year), but he left with a list of a few of my wishes (mostly records and cameras) that maybe, just maybe, if I’m super lucky he’ll end up home with a surprise for me.
Update: he called to notify me of a man with tubs (tubs!) of cameras for $2; selected a Kodak Signet and a Kodak 35. No Polaroid 680SLR or Pentacon Six to speak of, but a gal can hope, right?
(How psyched would I be were I to hear that Kodak were still currently manufacturing and processing these films? Over the moon.)
Back with updates later!
There’s something pretty impressive that happens when the imagination creates a completely different context or dimention. It’s even more interesting when the entire journey gets paired with an everyday operation- like the alphabet.
Last night, after the show, we stepped out into the rain and began our walk to the bus. On this rare occasion, I was unprepared and grabbed a newspaper to serve as umbrella, the first sitting atop a jumbled mismatched stack outside the door. Several blocks later, the rain had stopped and we’d found a cement median to sit on while waiting. I opened the pages and perused the Eugene Weekly to pass the time, when my entire set of innards sank. There, peering back at me from the center amidst jumbled ads in a paper I absolutely never think to read was an ad touting a gallery showing of George Tice’s most recent works: Paterson. Not only were the works on display in Eugene (not an hour away at the University of Oregon), but he was giving a talk and subsequent book signing. My hopes were immediately crushed when I noticed the talk was to happen February 28th, 2pm. Not ten hours earlier. I wanted immediately to put the day on pause and rewind, or call Mr. Tice and tell him to stay just one day longer so I could sit down and have coffee personally.
Fortunately, the works will be on display until April 5th. Mr. Tice, however, has most likely returned to Jersey.