the thing itself and not the myth

After what felt like endless weekends of nothing going on (not that I really mind that so much: it gives me time to knit & watch absurd amounts of television) I had two weekends in a row when Stuff Happened. Like so.

Last weekend, knitwear designer Stephen West did a trunk show and a shawl class up at Village Yarn and Tea. I’ve been a fan of his designs for a while, but had yet to tackle one, so I signed up for the class, which was an excellent decision. I learned a few new tips and tricks, but more importantly, I got inspired again. We can all use that from time to time.

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This weekend, as probably all of Seattle knows, the Alaskan Way Viaduct was closed for inspection. They do it twice a year, and while it’s closed, they do public walking tours. That’s how I found myself, shortly after 9 in the morning, donning an orange vest and a hard hat and walking up the Seneca St off ramp. A very odd experience. I wish that we had been able to explore more of the structure, but we did learn a lot in a brief time about safety measures on the Viaduct as well as regarding the process of taking it down and elements of the tunnel option for the waterfront (of which I am still not a fan, for those playing along at home.)

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The whole thing was worth it if only for the chance to get a photo of Seattle’s Ugliest Mural. I saw it every day the three or four months I lived in West Seattle, and I was always horrified. The closer you get, the more terrifying it is.

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Two obligatory walking-up-1st-Avenue photos:

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Later that afternoon, I met up with Puck & their gran to see the live broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion. It was a lot of fun, and I am looking forward to listening next week to see what other Seattle material they can dig up.

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After coffee with them, I went up to the Phinney Neighborhood Center to see Ellis Paul. I feel like I could totally live in Phinney Ridge if I was the sort of person who wanted to have babies and dress them in organic clothing and be annoyed that Seattle’s draconian drinking laws prohibit children in bars. Instead I want no babies and I ride the bus and drink coffee, so I live on Capitol Hill. But going to the neighborhood makes me feel like I’m in some weird parallel universe.

Anyway. The point was Ellis, whom I have seen live a lot. He’s probably rivaling the Paperboys & Peter Mulvey at this point. I try to make a point of going to his shows, even when they’re in weird neighborhoods, because as I said on Facebook, I always feel better about the world afterwards. And no, that’s not a given for a concert. For example, a Richard Shindell show is obviously always worth seeing, but for me that’s because his shows are cathartic. I have yet to attend a Richard show that didn’t make me cry.

At an Ellis show, though, something special always happens in a way that it doesn’t happen for any other artist, or at least not with such regularity. The last time I saw him at PNC, Antje Duvekot opened, but late in the show when he wanted to perform “Conversation with a Ghost”, she was nowhere to be found, so he wound up singing with a member of the audience. One half of a couple, by the way, that drove at least 6 hours to be there. And of course she was amazing.

The next time, in West Seattle, Ellis got a deep back catalog request. He gamely attempted it, but soon it was clear that he didn’t remember the words nearly as well as a fellow in the audience, who he brought up to help out.

Tonight at the half, a family pointed out to him that it was Earth Hour, so he came down into the middle of the hall (which in itself was not uncommon) and did “Let it Be” off mic in the dark. I am not a religious person (which is perhaps the understatement of the century) but times like that are transcendental.

…and that’s all for now, folks. Though poking at my Flickr, it seems I have a backlog of knitting to show you. Perhaps later this week.

…not that I really had one. One three day weekend does not a vacation make. But whatever.

In July I went up to Vancouver for the folk festival. It was my third year attending, and though I missed seeing Julie up on the mainstage interpreting, I had a really great time. I got up there on Friday night when the Weakerthans were on the mainstage, found a spot, and immediately everything felt right with the world. (more…)

Yesterday evening I trekked over to Ballard for a concert. Trekking indeed. It takes an hour to get there from my office. North Seattle Community College is the halfway point, and I finally managed to take a picture of these sweet little houses across the street from the college.

If only Ballard were a little more accessible, I would be very tempted to live there. But then it wouldn’t be Ballard. Also it would be nice if they had a grocery store walkable from the heart of the neighborhood. Though, the QFC is coming back in that condo development, yes?

More after the jump. (more…)

The most interesting thing I’ve done lately is see music. The weekend before last I was up in Vancouver for the folk festival. I got in free because I have a friend who works on the main stage as a sign language interpreter. It is basically awesome.

(Follow me after the jump for Vancouver Folk, the Glitter meet-up, ZooTunes, and more. Image-heavy; click through to embiggen) (more…)

Tonight I went to see Tracy Grammer at the Youngstown Cultural Arts Thingamabobber, which was a good move on my part, even though it is in West Seattle, more or less, which might as well be a different country.

She was the second in a new series; Ellis Paul is going to be there next month, and my excitement regarding this cannot be textually rendered. The only way I could be more excited is if Vance Gilbert was coming with him. (Confidential to Vance: Seriously. Seattle. I know you know where it is. What is the deal?)

Tracy was lovely. She grows every time I see her. I saw her a few times with Dave of course, and at least once with Jim Henry after Dave passed. This is a solo tour, and it suits her. I just wish the audience had been more responsive. Oh Seattle. People who know Seattle audiences, take that experience and apply it to an audience where I easily was the youngest person (at least until you got to fourth graders). Dead silence huge portions of the time. I cheered into silence for Falcon Ridge Folk Festival and for Richard Shindell, and when she got to Townes Van Zandt, who merits the applause of those two combined and then some, I gave up and clapped quietly to myself. They got me, those passive fuckers.

She mentioned Townes because she closed with “Pancho & Lefty”, a song I am perhaps a little obsessed with. On the bus home I listened to Gillian Welch & David Rawlings covering it at a show that’s now ten years old. I thought of how much I love seeing them play, their awkward happy little banter & the way Gillian bobs when she plays guitar, and how they haven’t come to Seattle in ages. I would pay a ridiculous amount of money to see them, no lie. Speaking of artists I would pay a ridiculous amount of money to see, Tom Waits is planning a summer tour. Dear Tom. I saw you in 1999. That was way too long ago.

I need to be better about seeing live music, but it’s hard. Film takes over my life. Movies are easier to go to alone. There’s a lot of artists I’d like to see, but I’m uncomfortable going alone to late-night, hard-drinking bar shows. I try not to live in fear, but it would also be fucking stupid of me to, say, go to Gogol Bordello in SoDo. Or the Paperboys on St. Patrick’s Day. So it goes. But tonight was Tracy, next month is Ellis, and there’s the Winterpills in there somewhere. And the beat goes on.

…I seriously cannot believe I don’t have an “art saves me” icon on this account. What was I thinking?

The last week of January, the Decemberists played two shows at the Moore. I had bought tickets to their cancelled “The Long and Short of It” tour, so there was no question I’d catch both of these. I was up in the balcony for both shows, which is probably best as I had brought a cold back from London and wasn’t anywhere near the top of my game. The first night was a lot of fun, but the second was awesome.

First, the opener was much better. The Butchers & the Builders, who had a great energy and mad percussion action. See the toy drums, etc, at the front of the stage? They got handed out to the audience. I whipped out my camera at first for the totally busker-esque drum kit.

Then the Decemberists were just on, with a set that included the two songs I most wanted & thus least expected to hear - “The Soldiering Life” & “Sons & Daughters”.

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Yay!

In other seafaring news, I did a little damage over at Etsy recently, getting magnets & a necklace on the theme.

And finally, totally not sailor related at all, click through this photo to see my set of photos from International New Year, aka the Work Event That Prevented Me From Caucusing.

…I really am going at this completely backwards, aren’t I? Eventually I swear I will post stuff from England, for the one person who hasn’t prowled through my Flickr already.

I fell down a bit on my picture of the day project in November. I blame work exploding and also me being lazy. Let’s make up for it now. As usual, click through to Flickr to embiggen.

It being the holiday season, Seattle’s Nutcracker March (flash, music) has begun. To my great horror. The first nutcracker I saw was actually kind of cute…

…though the last time I looked at the site there were only John & Paul nutcrackers, no George and Ringo. What’s up with that?

Regardless, around the corner was a TERRIBLE nutcracker, that I have to look at every day because I catch my bus there.

Yup. A Jack Sparrow nutcracker. Just what we all needed.

Now, to be fair, there are some traditional nutcrackers. That’s okay. For example, there’s this fellow at Pacific Place, apparently based on the first nutcracker ever. Or whatever.

And there’s this Seattle-themed one, which is okay.

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After the jump, meet the two most horrific of this year’s nutcrackers, at least that I have seen so far, and to soften the blow a bit, my current favorite non-Beatle nutcracker.

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This has been the week of geek rock, which basically rules. Sunday night was Jonathan Coulton and Paul & Storm at the Triple Door, which is such a darned swank venue that the disconnect between the room & the show I’m seeing is generally pretty entertaining. Sunday was no exception, with a show that required the audience to participate as both pirates *and* zombies, and offered prizes from Archie McPhee.

Paul being chill; Storm rocking out:

Paul presenting the winner of the door prize. He got a Darth Vader mask (obviously), a brain mold, and probably other groovy Archie McPhee stuff.

Jonathan Coulton:

Who called up Paul & Storm for a large part of the show:

And, Mr. Fancy Pants:

From Paul & Storm’s blog: And we expect many more P&S/JoCo tours in the near and far future. I really hope so, as it was super fun having Paul & Storm doing so much backup.

Then last night we went to They Might Be Giants at the Moore (which, seriously, needs to consider replacing their seats). I read the website, and so didn’t risk bringing my camera. Tragically, I totally could have brought it in. Instead, I have a crappy cell phone shot of John Linnell & his accordion.

Lookit how close we were! Yay. They did “New York City” (introduced as a song by “three women from Vancouver” YAY CUB!) and “She’s an Angel”, both of which I had sort of assumed I would never hear live, so that basically ruled.

No more geek rock this week, though, unless it’s rocking out on the iPod. Woe.

First off, I finished the body cable for the Samus cardigan yesterday, which means that as soon as I pick up a mile-long circular I can do the body itself. Which should fly, as it’s miles of stockinette. I can watch subtitled movies while I do it!

I only went to the festival on Saturday, but I reckon I got my $25 out of it. A handful of pictures after the jump.

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