The last pack of this coast

Still barely any sleep. In bed at night, my head is still almost bursting even though my eyes want nothing else but deep, long rest. Friday was full and even though it was yesterday, I hardly remember what happened because Saturday was also full and wonderful.

Friday, I tried to take the morning easy, mail some letters, do some admin. Then I started the big cleanup and tidying and display pieces for my living space because we were expecting a guest: Marci McDade of Surface Design Journal. After many years of email correspondence, it was fantastic to finally meet in person. I haven't had such a solid, grounded, present meeting in a long, long time. Lots of questions, stories, ideas, names, and connections made. She even shared a new way of posing for photos that someone had taught her. It feels foolish for the model but the image comes out fine, very natural looking.

After changing into my street clothes, I got a ride from Emily downtown to meet an old friend. We go back K-12, and sometimes I tell a story about her in my paper classes. She was the one in 11th grade English who showed me how she took a piece of copy paper and handled it so long that it was like tissue. It came from her own inherent creativity and boredom, and I loved it. That's the same magic I use with hanji today. I haven't seen her since she had her now 4-year-old son, so we had lots of catching up. Good thing, because I dragged her on a (slow) bus back to the show, and then back downtown on another (slow) bus. Then we did what frantic and hungry strangers to cities do: roam around, unable to find a place to eat until about 10pm when we were ravenous, complaining the whole time as New Yorkers are wont to do in cities where restaurants close early.

I saw this reaction she had to a piece not in the show (not enough wall space), and remembered that on my long trip back. I can't believe I went from St Johns to downtown Portland and back to St Johns, and back to downtown, and back to St Johns in one night. But I really wanted her to see the show.

Today was not as productive at first (a failed attempt to find new sneakers, which took 3 hours), but I managed to get back to 23 Sandy to look at a few more books. I wanted to roam the Saturday market but it was so mobbed that I skipped lunch. I was lucky that the gallery folks had two tacos for me when I got back, but I wasn't even able to eat them at first because more guests arrived right after me!

I finally met Ian, son of Velma. It was wonderful, and there were other people in the mix as we all walked down to have drinks and later dinner together (though I got Ian and me burgers from a food cart and he got our beverages because we were not interested in waiting to eat like the other ladies). Then we took a walk down to Cathedral Park, which was outrageously beautiful. We were completely bewitched by the fragrance of the blooms on a tree we were unable to name. I sold my last two books, started to pack, and still am hoping (as I have every single day since Tuesday) to make it to the Japanese garden before I fly back to NYC on Sunday night. I will savor this final night laying prone to sleep, because that flight will be a dreaded red-eye.