Like anything else, this event was seeded, and grew organically over time. The seeds held the potential of what the event would become. [Read More]
Legacy of a playful local resistance
Forever playful, John Fraser. In communities where people approach life with a bit of whimsy, his kind of disposition becomes part of our civic identity. If neglected, we are easily overrun by tedium. [Read More]
‘Whose Move’ Premieres at Steidel’s Art Gallery
Shoes scraped, scruffed, and made the polished wooden floors of Steidel’s Art Gallery gently groan today as fans packed the small studio for the first peek of William Steidel’s new illustrated book, ‘Whose Move.’ [Read More]
Summer sewage at Cannon Beach
We found an elderly man in a wheelchair rinsing his feet in the stream. We also found children running up and down the stream, and very brown water containing visible brown particles. [Read More]
Gallery Song
Look what can happen with ceramic,
wood, and sea-tumbled stones;
with pigments and sand;
with fabric, glass, metal, and sun-dried kelp.
With words, fledged
in holy conversation.
It’s a lot of work
It’s a lot of work
coming Home
retreading
previous paths
turning
at some fateful moment
back
to the by ways of our
Birth [Read More]
Peninsulas and Islands: A Tale for Coastal Communities
Charles Le Guin’s novel, North Coast, is a peninsula of a story. Set in the fictional community of Bridger Bay, the protagonists—Kim, the narrator, and Steve, who becomes his closest friend and briefly his lover—reach out between individuals, cultures, and elements.
Little and Big: a story about a town
Once upon a time there was a little town by a big ocean. It was a wise little town. Long ago it had looked at its dunes and beaches, its big trees, its marsh where the red-wing blackbirds sang, its little streets and little grey shingle shops and houses, and said: This is all good.
Hankering for Paradise: My Discovery of The Wave Crest Inn
On one of my trips from Portland to Cannon Beach I stayed at the Wave Crest Inn. I drove past it the previous time I was in town and later looked it up on the Internet. From one picture on the scant web site, I knew I wanted to see this place.
Love in the Wrack Zone
Where others strolled with their buckets of shells, we were dragging leaf bags along, combing the wrack zone, that line of debris where the tide recedes; where all manner of incongruent sea life coalesces. Steve and I shared a passion we never would with anyone else. Steve knew much about how to work kelp and take advantage of its ability to become as leather when wet, and wooden when dried. I followed through with finished products in my own style. [Read More]