Fire on Rutter Parkway

As I was riding the bus home from the Kalispel Reservation, I saw a plume of smoke rising into the sky. Some of my fellow riders had already checked their Facebook accounts and learned that a fire was burning near Rutter Parkway. I got this picture near Whitworth University. 

Read the news about this fire HERE. 

The Bridges of Cannon Hill

I wish I had gotten a picture of the old man who spoke to my family. I wish I had gotten his name. 

My family and I took a picnic the other day at Cannon Hill Park on the South Hill of Spokane. We have always loved that park for its beautiful green trees and stone bridges. 

As we were eating our picnic lunch, and old man stood a ways off and started telling us a story without any introductions. He said that he was almost 100 year old, and that he has lived in this neighborhood his whole life. When he was a young boy, these stone bridges were not just decoration; they were actually necessary because a system of ponds and streams once flowed beneath them. He used to catch crawdads in that stream, and people from the city would come up and buy them for a penny a piece. Green grass grows where the water once flowed. 

The old man told his story, then simply walked away. 

I felt so happy and grateful to hear his story, but then I immediately regretted not getting his name. I would love to hear more about his life and the history of our city. 

*

Hubiera tomado una foto del hombre viejo que le habló a mi familia. Hubiera preguntado su nombre. 

Con mi familia, hicimos un picnic el otro día en el Parque de Cannon Hill en Spokane. Siempre nos ha gustado visitar ese parque por sus bellos árboles verdes y sus puentes de piedra. 

Mientras comíamos, un hombre viejo se paró a una distancia corta y empezó a contar su historia sin ninguna introducción. Dijo que casi tiene los 100 años, y que ha vivido en ese vencindario toda su vida. Cuando era joven, los puentes no eran simples adornos, sino que eran necesarios porque había un sistema de estanques y arroyos naturales que fluían debajo de los puentes. En ese tiempo, pescaba cangrejos de río allí mismo en el arroyo, y la gente de la cuidad llegaba a comprarlo por un centavo cada uno. La grama ahora crece donde el agua antes fluía. 

Cuando el anciano terminó su historia, simplemente se fue. 

Me sentí tan agradecido escuchar su historia, pero inmediatemente me arrepentí por no preguntar su nombre. Me hubiera gustado escuchar más de su vida y de la historia de nuestra ciudad. 

South Perry Pizza

When I woke up this morning, I had an unbearable craving for South Perry Pizza. More importantly, I couldn't stop thinking about my friend Erin. My wife treats me really well, so she drove me all the way to South Perry to fulfill my wish. 

Everybody wants me to stay home and sleep, but man, I get so damned bored sitting in my house all day every day. Boredom cannot be good for my healing. And besides, my physical therapist said that I really am supposed to get out and walk a couple times a day. 

My baby girl Whitney had pizza with me today. 

Here's my new look with short hair. I don't like the new hairstyle, 

but I am thankful to be alive. My hair will grow back. 

At South Perry Pizza, I was really hoping that I would see Erin by some chance, but it didn't work out. As we were leaving, I asked several of the waiters if they knew her. They all said no. Hmmmm. So then, I left a note for her on the bar and just asked them to give it to Erin when she came in. I had no idea if she would find her note or not, but I decided to just trust the universe to deliver the message to its proper destination. 

We saw these beautiful spring flowers outside the pizza place. I was just thinking, "I should take a picture of those flowers," when Whitney jumped out of the car and said, "I should take a picture of those flowers." Apparently, she learned something from me. 

When I got home, Erin re-posted my note on FB, so I guess the message found its recipient. Everything must have worked out. She said the note made her sniffle. :)

The Open Sky

Winter in Spokane is sometimes difficult to bear, but after endless days of overcast weather, the skies finally opened and allowed the sun to lift my spirits. 

El Cielo Abierto

Los inviernos en Spokane son frecuentemente difíciles de aguantar, pero después de días interminables de tiempo nublado, los cielos por fin se abrieron y permitieron que el sol levantara mi espíritu.   

The Garland District

The Garland District after my meetings today...

The City at Twilight

The city of Spokane at twilight, looking north. 

Spokane

A view of downtown Spokane looking east. 

Mobile Murals

This story is only a couple months late, but I finally got to see the Mobile Murals Project on Third and Division. I was driving to work, when I suddenly recognized a painting made by Todd and Cain Benson (above). Seems like their artwork has stopped me more than once. In any case, I really love public art, but I especially feel a connection to Todd and Cain. 

A city...

A horse with an American flag design.

"Beasts of the Wild"

Minnehaha Park

This fall season has been exceptionally beautiful. Even as the days grow shorter, the colors have been unusually bright. In the past, the fall has often caused me a kind of sadness or depression, perhaps even a certain grief to see the dying days of summer. This year is different. The autumn colors have kept me spellbound.  

Minnehaha Park in northeast Spokane holds some history for my family. When I was in high school, we lived just a few blocks away. But the history is even older: My mother went to school just down the street at Cooper Elementary, and my great grandmother Alice Meier lived in a small house on the same street. I remember visiting her when I was a small child. 

On my father's side, my great grandparents lived nearby in an Indian camp.  

The old stone house was a source of ghost stories when I was a kid. 

The trees have all turned color. 

Minnehaha is connected to a natural area with a network of trails. 

Streaks of Rust

Between digging camas and wild onions, Tim and I stopped to visit the Benson brothers. A recent rain stained the mural with streaks of rust from the bridge overhead. The stains created a beautiful pattern over the paint that reminded me of the transitory nature of life. 

The streaks almost resemble tears.

Cain and Tim. 

Todd and a visitor.

Front Page

The Benson brothers are getting all kinds of positive attention for their work on the Maple Street Mural. This morning, I saw their painting on the front page of the Spokesman-Review, and since our school typically subscribes to about 20 or 30 copies per day, their image was scattered onto every table and desk in the building. The image gave me the opportunity to promote their mural to anyone who would listen. I encouraged everyone to drive past 2nd and Maple to see the artwork in person. 

Photo credit: Dan Pelle at the Spokesman-Review.

Mural Update

A progress report on the Maple Street Mural: The outlines are not quite complete on the southwest section of 2nd and Maple, but certainly more than my previous visit. The artists have not yet begun painting the wall at the northeast corner of the intersection, though eventually they will. 

By the end, the black outlines will be filled with color.  

Passersby stop to make conversation, including newspaper reporters, television crews, photographers, fellow artists, and curious onlookers. The constant stream of conversation undoubtedly delays the finished product, but also increases the spirit of community.  

Living History

The Friends of Spokane House hosted a living history exhibit this weekend where participants dressed in clothing from the time of the original trading post (1810) and displayed traditional crafts. As part of the event, my Uncle Pat and I had the opportunity to speak to people about the history of the Spokane Tribe. 

Spokane House introduced many new items into our local culture, like guns and metal pots. They also brought decorative items, like glass beads from Italy. 

The traders persuaded the people to deliver beaver pelts in exchange for trade items. Beaver skins thus became a kind of currency or money. 

As an interesting side note, one of the earliest Salish words I learned in my childhood was a word for money. Years ago, I sometimes asked my father to take us to the movies or buy ice cream, and he would often respond by saying, "We got no sqlew." I always understood his meaning, "We have no money," but it wasn't until I was an adult that I realized the true meaning of this word: sqlew is the Spokane term for beaver. It's interesting to me that Spokane House influenced my family almost 200 years later. 

The beaver pelts were used to make top hats in Europe. 

Camp musicians. 

The grave of Jacco Finley near Spokane House.

Dakota near the Northwest Company flag. 

Maple Street Mural

Brothers Todd and Cain Benson are back to working their magic on a new mural at the intersection of Second Avenue and Maple Street in downtown Spokane, a mural reminiscent of a previous work located in the Central Food building. This latest installation was the result of a competitive process sponsored by the Spokane Arts Commission to transform public spaces into works of art.

My admiration for Todd and Cain began in 2008 when they created a visual tribute to John McCain and Barack Obama. Their work appealed to my sense of aesthetic beauty while holding a thoughtful insight into the subtle nuances of politics, community, and culture. Since that time, I have followed their projects and made sure to observe the process to the best of my ability. Sometimes they worked late into the night while still managing to entertain deep philosophical discussions. 

Their ability to transform public spaces is magical. Not only do they create tangible works of art, but just today I observed the effect of their work on the community. Random strangers stopped to photograph the mural, ask questions, or strike up conversations. One man in particular stopped to say how much one of the faces reminded him of his daughter Hope. In response to the man's story, Todd and Cain added the young girl's name to the painting. 

From an indigenous perspective, works of art sometimes carry spiritual power. Todd and Cain channel a similar power through their art - an art that comes alive with human connections.   

The mural is appearing under a train truss. 

 

A butterfly takes shape near the image of Hope.

Todd...

Cain...

A train passed overhead while cars filled the intersection.

A random passerby stopped to photograph the mural.

Another team was selected to install a mural under a train bridge just a few blocks away from the Benson brothers. I had the opportunity to visit this mural and meet the artist Lisa Soranaka. Her passion, talent, and commitment were equally inspiring. She paused her work and spoke to me about creating beauty in public spaces.   

Another team was selected to create a mural under the Wall Street overpass. The scaffolding was visible, but so far only a faint pencil sketch shows the eventual placement of the paint.