RV-FN-06162-26-2
the artist very tired after his opening at riversea gallery
PORTLAND HOTEL LOBBY AFTER OPENING
Informal observations
My first thought being in the city was that it seemed like a city in mourning. The bright punky vibe that I remember seeing when I lived here, the throngs of tourists, the stylish and vibing clothing were all missing. Instead, I saw women walking in plain clothes, solid colors, dark, drab, flower prints but the kind of flower prints you usually find in discount men’s shirts in Marshall’s or ross dress for less…long dresses of a plain spun type, I didn’t see people celebrating their bodies and their freedoms, instead I saw a city that appeared to be in mourning
My absence from the city of roses has been marked by a series of catastrophes for the city that looks like it hit them hard, the tariffs affecting imports that so many of the businesses downtown depend on, which brings tourism and that natural quality of life in its natural beauty the city is famous for, all gone. I have never seen so many empty store fronts downtown, and driving out to the Lloyd center, a sure thing for families and commerce seeking refuge from the hottest el nino day of the year presented me with a tomb.
Literally, the mall was gutted. All that remained were a few office spaces, some arts gallery projects, a few elderly walkers, and the skating rink, still attended by dreamers gliding serenely in circles.
All weekend the vibe that hit my stomach as I walked with Michelle and I toured all my old haunts, was a city in mourning, a shell of itself that has retreated into itself, into booze and pot and Antifa cells plotting their overthrow, watchful of strangers entering their neighborhoods and bookstores…the homeless were far more aggressive than I remember although many of the camps have been moved out and I was told at the gallery that Eugene is suffering the worst of that seasonal gypsy movement of migrants peoples.
It made me sad, the families, the real estate boom, the gem of a city that was always like the namesake downtown, a cherished pearl of the pacific northwest, an untouchable child like spirit now soured on declining revenues and a bleak job market. I felt anxiety in my stomach all weekend, and my friendly greeting to people, open faces, open smiles, hellos, always went answered. In new york I talked to so many strangers just by saying hello and in Portland no one would look me in the eye.
The opening was a success, I watched strangers kiss my sculptures and both sam and I sold quite well, and the advertising I did seems to be bringing more people to the gallery, some big sculptures being sold, lots of curious folks on my sm, saying hi, looking in, trying to decide if its safe to come out of their digital shells and be vulnaerable in the world. Portland, what happened to you?