A photo( and occasional sketch) diary to monitor my culture shock from my move from a West Coast urban city to a beautiful and very small rural community in The Great North West. ***Click on pics for larger image. Updated every week, if we're lucky.***

Saturday, March 31, 2007

43. Before/ After: Kitchen





















From everything I've read, original Craftsman style bungalow kitchens were often just a nook in a house— nothing special, just a space big enough for an icebox and a sink and a small prep table. Our original kitchen's no exception.
The week we move in, Que casually asks, "So... Do you hate these knotty pine cupboards as much as I do?"
"Yes." I answer.
Ka-Blam!


















Without hesitation, Que takes a sledge hammer to the knotty pine...
























We replace it with Ickyah's finest, and spiff them up a bit with some 1920's art deco nickle nobs, which match nicely with some existing 1940's deco action around the sink...







































Que also wrecks out an awkward protruding wall and adds room for a refrigerator...























The office acoustic ceiling tile is merely covered up with a layer of sheetrock and then painted a cream white; which really brightens up the room. I attack the faded country floral wallpaper with a vengeance. The walls are skimcoated smooth. Lastly, we brighten the walls with a three layers of Lander's Apt Yellow and a bright glossy white for the trim...







Before Kitchen: Ceilings are covered with "Downtown Office Chic" grey acoustic ceiling tile and this charming "Interrogation Room" style bare lightbulb...























The bare bulb is replaced with a deco pendant light from Portland. The Muddy 80's Mauve colored trim is updated with a bright white gloss...
























































Before: The former owner of our house raised rabbits, so we find rabbit-themed kitsch everything throughout the house.






















After: Switches and plates are promptly updated with durable and classic nickle plates.
























Mauve No More!
***

Brief side note: Possible future menaces?







































Our window guy J is accepted to graduate school for sculpture. He invites us to dinner to celebrate and to meet his cats Mary and April for a "playdate". Do we have two mature pet cats in our near future? J shares El Big cat ownership rule #1: Cats must stay indoors at all times or risk becoming tasty cougar snacks!
***

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

42. El Big's Chinese History contin'





On a recent jaunt south, I spot a pointy asian-looking structure from afar and ask Que to pull around so I can get a better look. It is a fairly recent memorial to the Chinese emigrants of the El Big area. The hills behind the temple are dotted with Cantonese miner and railroad worker's names on granite markers. Some are dated from 1880 to as late as 1940.

Monday, March 19, 2007

40. "All we are saying, is give peace (and Mercedes Benz while you're at it) a cha-ance--"





















































































































***

I wake to hear a very sad piece on the radio about the town's first Iraq casualty. Que and I agree that the local Peace march is a no brainer. I count 35 people in our small crowd--a nice cross section of folks from the local hs, local los Verdes organization, and a local Christian church...

From the newspaper...

March 22, 2007
Governor Orders Flags at Half-Staff in Memory of El Big Soldier

Flags to be lowered Monday in honor of Sgt. 1st Class Jon Stevens

Today Governor Ned ordered all flags at public institutions be flown at half-staff on Monday, in memory of Sgt. 1st Class Jon Stevens of El Big.

Stevens, 41, died Thursday, March 15 in Iraq. He was assigned to the First Battalion, 16th Infantry, First Brigade, 1st Infantry Division, Fort Wiley, Kansas...





































































"Stevens spent most of his life serving our country and making the world a more peaceful place," said Governor Ned. "As an outstanding father, husband, El Bigian and soldier - he will be missed by all in his community."

***






















































































"Unclear of the concept." A not so peaceful passerby in a large truck, and a not so peaceful response...
























The hilight of the march was when a Vietnam veterean stopped his car and joined us in song with his original anti war country song called, "I Still Like the Dixie Chicks."
















































Coming from SF where the peace sign is an iconic cliche from the 60's Haight Ashbury baggage, I find it kind of funny and charming that this local peace activist accidentally made several handmade signs with the Mercedes Benz logo.

Peace out, yo
Ms. Jane D'oh

Next Week: The Bungalow Continued!





















Before: The former walls were Pasty Pink, Gas guzzler Chevy Blue, Musty Strawbale Yellow, and Filthy Eggshell White.
Stay tuned for more before and after updates from the El Big bungalow project.
***

Saturday, March 17, 2007

39. Signs of Spring

My walking buddy Kit calls me and invites me for an afternoon walk at one of her favorite spots, a designated "bird walk" out in the State park. I enthusiatically accept. I fill my thermos with coffee, grab my sunglasses and we're off. I am pleasantly surprised that we drive for a mere 20 minutes and we're already in pristine underutilized park preserve. I often forget how the valley town of El Big is basically a huge plateau surrounded by several State park camping areas.







































The weather is sunny and 65 degrees; a very welcoming temperature after an El Big winter. Kit reminds me that I shouldn't get too used to it since they've had small snow showers as late as April. I'm impressed with the brand new boardwalks and hand hewned benches placed strategically throughout the path. Stone markers set along the path stating "P1-P-10" denote poems from a book published by poets who're inspired by the walk.

We don't see very many birds yet— a bald eagle, a single robin, and a few thrushes. On our way back we spot a few signs of activity, such as this gnawed tree trunk by the river. Apparently El Big has beavers!





This tree appears to be alive.


























Kit and I are not discouraged. After our walk, we decide to drop in to visit "the bird man of El Big", a friendly, owl-like 30ish man named Tarrence, who owns and operates a charming birding/ artisan beer shop in downtown. Tarrence gives us detailed directions to crane nesting spots as well as sells me an updated Siblie Field Guide of Western North America. "Oh yeah, it's too early for much variety. Come May-June it'll be like La Guardia." Apparently, El Big is one of the prime migrating paths for several North America species. "5th in the nation!" Tarrence boasts.

I am able to gather a partial list of common and uncommon species that migrate and often breed in the El Big Valley's unique Gadd Marsh:

pelicans
herons
cranes
geese
ducks
swans
grebes
vultures
hawks
grouse
quail
pheasants
partridge
coots
gulls
terns
owls
hummingbirds
kingfishers
swallows
jays
thrushes
nuthatches
wrens
tanagers
finigers
sparrows
woodpeckers
flycatchers
larks
and shorebirds of all kinds including long billed curlew, sandpipers, killdeers...
whew...

***

I come home to receive an email that my anti war scroll painting in an upcoming book on Asian Americans and war. The editor had seen it when I had it exhibited it in SF in 2003. It's a shame that the politics of my work are still very relevant four years later.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

38. First art opening

Two of my most recent paintings debuted at the school's Int Wmn's Day art exhibit. It felt really satisying to be involved in a community event. About one hundred people came to the opening. Granted, they had a chocolate fondue cascade fountain at the catering table, but it still seemed liked a very good showing. There are about 30 women artists in the show; mostly students and a few from the community...























A study in color and design (and good eatin')--"Chinese Broccoli"; Acrylic on canvas, 9"x12" (Click on image to enlarge)

Since I inherited a life time supply of acrylic paint from my dear ma, I have been inspired to work on canvas again. Before I became engulfed in animation twelve odd years ago, I painted a bit with oil, but was turned off by the fumes. That's when went back to the pencil. I've always prefered the look of oil, so it's been a challenge to try to make the acrylic appear luminous, and not dull and flat—as it often can be if it's not handled correctly. So far I've been encouraged with the Liquitex acrylic gloss mixing medium. I am happy to say that the school's painting prof looked at this painting for a bit and then asked me if it was oil!

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

37. Culture Shock Level Check: Mining the past

















It's been a combination of things. Partly from losing my ma this year, and partly moving to ye olde wild, wild west has inspired me to unearth my heritage. Just before I moved here, the Kawm Wa Cheung campaign of EO benefited from two grants that will help preserve some old buildings in the El Big area: $10,000 from O Cultural Trust and $80,000 of a $100,000 grant from the Nat Park Service's Save America's Treasures fund. The school has been directly involved in the preservation and education of the Chinese mining history in the area. One of the school's English professors even helped translate personal letters they found in the buildings.


















After just a bit of searching on the Or Historical page, I found this doozy from the Shawsta Courier...

as ever,
Jane D' Halfbreed


---

Reprint from the Shawsta Courier
Saturday, December 03, 1853

What Is To Be Done With The Chinamen?

Three years ago it was a matter of no little curiosity to the American miner, to see a real live representative of the Celestial Empire, with his wooden shoes, his prodigious hat of fantastical proportions, his shaven head, his long black cue dangling at his feet, his light springy pole poised upon his shoulder, and freighted with provisions and mining tools, as he wended his way, half walking, half pacing, on his road to the mines. But the time has now arrived when the Chinaman begins to be regarded with other feelings than those of mere idle curiosity. Stimulated by the brilliant reports carried back to China by these first adventurers, and allured by the vast fields of wealth that seemed to open before them, as well as encouraged by the invitation of many of our own people, thousands and tens of thousands of these sable sons of Asia have crossed the Pacific - poured into our towns, and are now swarming in quest of gold through every part of the mines. It is a notable fact that already, in many of the mining districts in this vicinity, the number of Chinamen is more than double that of all the other miners put together. And yet this stream of trans-Pacific immigration still continues to pour in upon us. Its tide is daily swollen by a perpetual influx from all the dark and dingy tribes of the Chinese Empire - a country which boasts a population nearly equal to that of all the world besides. A very necessary and natural result of this rapid accumulation of Chinese in our midst, is a clashing of interests, and consequent bickering and difficulties between them and our own citizens.

After the American miner with that spirit of courageous enterprise so peculiarly his own, at the cost of the thousands of dollars, has explored wild mountainous and savage regions where a Chinaman dare not set his foot - after he has toiled, prospected and found gold - after he has encountered and overcome numberless difficulties and dangers, in the shape of Indian pillage and Indian barbarity - after his stock has been stolen, his camp robbed, and his life periled a thousand times - and finally, after he has settled down to work with a partial feeling of security, in the hope of realizing at least some reward for years of suffering and privation - what must be his feelings to find himself suddenly surrounded and hemmed in on every side, by a motley swarm of semi-barbarians, eagers to grasp the spoils, though they dare not share the fight? In view of all these facts, is it any wonder that we occasionally hear the deep toned murmuring of discontent, and even threats of violence on the part of our own citizens, towards a race of foreigners who, having no feelings or sympaties in common with us, are rapidly overrunning our country, and appropriating to themselves these golden fields and fertile vallies which have been bought with American blood, and rendered productive for all our surplus population of Asia, it is high time for us to enquire what position our Celestial bretherine are destined to hold in our body politic.

Is our golden State to be peopled, through all future time, by two separate and distinct races, having no more affinity for each other than oil and water, and occupying the relative position of master and servant? Or like two fountains from different sources, and converging in their onward course finally commingle their waters in one common stream, are the American and Chinese races destined ultimately to unite, forming one people, retaining all the leading original features of both? If the Chinese are to live amongst us as our equals, exercising the same political rights as American citizens, it may be well for us to pause and consider whether we are willing that they should enact our laws, fill our judicial tribunals, set upon our fortunes, and our liberties. And finally, are we willing that they should marry with our sons and daughters, and people our country with a motley race of half breeds, resembling more the native Digger than the Anglo American?

___

Sunday, March 04, 2007

36. Culture Shock Level Check: "Getting to know you-"

Getting to know the neighbors...




























































Actually, these are more likely, photos of the neighbor's next MEAL. About 150 elk are kept here in the winter time so that they don't cross over into Farmer Elmer's alfalfa fields. These furry friends are then released into the wild for prime pickins during hunting season. The native American woman seated next to me enthusiastically told me that they're "Just delicioius!". I doubt I'll be taking up hunting any time soon, but I wouldn't refuse a nibble if it was served to me.

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