9. "It'll get hectic-"

That evening Que and I walk one block down to the main avenue to buy some cables at the Radio Shak (which doubles as a 99 cent store. Most businesses seem to have a 2nd business within.) Que strikes up a conversation with the young, toothless salesman in a bad suit. "So, you're not from around here, are ya? Welcome. Well, just you wait..." His has an omninous tone in his gentle drawl. "...it'll change here in town..." He gives us a knowing nod. "It'll 'get hectic-you know, once the students return in a month or so."
Hectic? It's hard to imagine. This town seems to move as if it's encased in molasses.

8. Our Arrival

Only 56 miles to my new home!

We pass through many small road bump towns. I start to get an overwhelming feeling I haven't had before. I experience my first big whallop of culture shock about 30 minutes from our valley. What in the hell are we doing?!

The terrain is beautiful and strange and full of road signs for fossil beds.


After driving through miles of desert, we start climbing up again.. I'm pleasantly surprised by the sight of pines and snaking, clear rivers. El Big is a basically located on a huge, pine covered plateau--a valley completely surrounded by high mountain desert.



We pull into town around noon. The Farmer's market in the town square is still buzzing, so we stop and grab a couple of surprisingly authentic tamales; drag our tired selves up to our empty apartment and toast to El Big.

7. The Dry Side

Dry, dryer, driest... Our new state is big and sprawling with contrasting values. It's evenly divided at the Kaskade Mountains-- not only geographically, but socially and politically. The eastern portion of is mainly desert and socially conservative. The very liberal Western side often refers to the eastern side with sweet nicknames like No Man's Land, The Armpit, or as I like to call it, The Dry Side...

My first Northwest painting. This is a rare, old style wood chip burner left over from the days when air polution and clear cutting just weren't discussed.

I understand that the locals call them hay turds.

At one point I notice that all the lumber trucks are now delivery trucks for the small town-destroying mega superstore giant, Val*mart. We must be getting closer...

6. The Long Drive North

The drive is long, but we're a day ahead of the moving truck so Que and I try to relax and enjoy the trip. I am easily amused by road side attractions such as this...


We are often flanked by speeding logging trucks...


Sign says, "Please yield to bears crossing." Okay, no problem...



On our way out of Bend I notice the radio station is playing obscure follk music. I'm starting to feel like I'm in a different state...

Wheat, alfalfa, wheat, alfalfa, mystery crop, corn, wheat, wheat, and some more corn...


Since we planned a day ahead of our moving truck, we have time to stop for the night at the gorgeously austere Crater Lake...


A closer look at some beautiful black basalt on the rim of the crater...


...and breakfast with the boys before we get back on the road again...

5. "bOregon or Ust!"

...consolidate our junk piles, throw it all in the back of an eighteen wheeler, say good bye to the friends and loved ones, and drive off to start a new life in a secluded town in the eastern portion of the NorthWest simply known as EL BIG; population 12,000. Well, population 12,002...

4. The Decision

So, when my partner Que recieves the call for a full time dream job in the Northwest, it's a fairly quick decision to pack up and leave California, my residence of 37 years. On August 1, 2005 10:00am we marry in a private ceremony in the rotunda in San Francisco City hall...

...drive down the coast for three relaxing days in one of my favorite Central California spots, Pt. Lobos...

3. Flowers for Jacque

With love

2. Overseas and underpaid

Since the dotcom bust, I find it hard to make a decent living wage in SF. The studio that gainfully employed me for over 10 years eliminates my department without warning and sends our jobs overseas to sweatshops in Asia... By 2002, most of my colleagues scatter to affordable areas, like back home with their folks, back to school to retrain, or overseas to the studios that now contract out our projects. I manage to continue to find bits of part time work and stay busy with my personal work. My personal work flourishes...Unfortunately, most of the freelance jobs I run across are either small or grossly underpaid. What is left of the industry I had adored has morphed into a big, shiny, bouncy overseas commodity...

1. Good ol' SF

We held it out for as long as we could, but my hometown SF has been outpricing us for awhile. Two bedroom flats go for 900 k. One single bedroom in a dumpy, 4 room shared flat rents for $800. The beau and I begin discussing moving out of the Bay Area to find an affordable place to live.

I think a lot about how much I will miss the coast if we leave the area.