|It seems every party I go to here in Seattle
offers at least one moment which makes me wonder if these are the end times.
In this case it was a needle-toothed remote control demon perched on this
guy's shoulder, turning its head to take in the room as if remembering faces
for later. Couple encounters like these with recurring dreams of nuclear
attack and cities come apart at the seams and it's enough to make anyone
uneasy. A sticker in Gina's
office offers relief: MAKE ART ANYWAY. So I did, spent a pleasant afternoon
dressing up an old cruiser with
caution tape, license plate, and little cut-out stickers of balls o' flame.
Rode it cross-town with Jed, stopping at the locks to watch salmon leap and
flop, then raffled it off as part of a Space Virgin fundraiser on the 5th
floor of 619 Western, an artists' loft space that's a hive of activity every
first thursday. Grabbed eggs and coffee NY style with Dave and Lara at 2
am then rode home alone over deserted summer night streets. The end would
have to wait another day. At least.