Portland-City of Roses

Portland. I do not know where to begin the saga of  Soldering for Virgins. OK, start at the beginning Z.

SO, I discover that Sally Jean, an incredible jewelry-slash everything-artist) is teaching a Soldering for Virgins class in her studio (wait till you see her studio...sigh, if I could only live there in that room.) in Portland, new home to my son Ben. I sign up promptly and upon sharing the news with gal-pals Kathy and Sarah, they too promptly sign up and the trip is planned.

We flew out this past Monday and spent the next four days creating, eating, shopping and eating, (yes, I meant double eatings because we ate enough to keep six 6 people fed, maybe 8 people....and their relatives). The class was amazing, because of Sally and her husband Brad. Fabulous, kind, funny and so incredibly talented and unique... sigh again. So the studio is too beautiful for words. I can only post one pic, I promised, but I have more at home I can show. I was afraid my soldering ability would be disastrous but I surprised myself, and Sally showed us her first attempts to bolster our confidence, wasn't that sweet? I'm sure with a lot of practice, I can get to be so-so at least! Who cares, it is fun, fun, fun. Too much to tell here, but her studio will be in a November issue of Where Women Create. You must see, trust me.

 

Spending time with my wonderful son, hearing about his new job, seeing where he lives, meeting some of his friends, well, you can imagine, created tremendous momma pride. No gushing here, but I am so thrilled for him. To top off this already delicious Portland Sundae was a trip to the barackspace, usually known as backspace, a local cafe-gallery, performance art, political gathering space, for the first night of an art show, where my daughter Hannah's Obama art was hanging!  To see, check out backspace.bz. Yep, that painting smack on the front is hers! Momma bird is bursting with pride as her two chicks fledge.  

Our blisters confirm that we shopped hither and thither, and we share memories of train bloopers and buses, streetcars, and one taxi that appeared out of nowhere just when we had lost hope of ever getting to somewhere, or anywhere but where we were... We shopped antiques, found treasures to bring home for nesting and buttons and ribbons so lush that it took an hour to have them cut and bundled into nests of color, too pretty to unwrap.

Dietary concerns were tossed aside, hell, they were flung Frisbee style, and every day brought meals that seemed to rival those of the day before. Our home away from home was the Ace Hotel which has to be experienced, not described, but a few photos may help. Check out Ace Hotel Portland. I loved it, even with bad mirror lighting, a fear elevating elevator, and a mattress that did not encourage sleep. It explains Portland without ever stepping out the front door. "watch your step Sarah".  

It passed in a blur and I had lists of must sees and must dos left unchecked, but alas, that will have to wait until the next Oregon trail. Next time I'm heading for the waterfalls and forests and the sea and maybe I can figure out which way is north and get on the correct airport train the first time, not the third time, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be brave enough to wear a hoodie, not carry an umbrella. To live there would require a major hair chopping, because the wet dog hair-do I wore most of the week, was soooo not attractive, proof was the hair clip holding my bangs off my face that I shamelessly wore home on the plane. 

So many stories, but perhaps not sharing them all keeps the memories sweeter, closer to the heart. 

I will have pictures up tomorrow.

City of roses-Ben's home, so there too my heart, as here with Hannah.

Peace.