Waylon's brewed coffee. We read sections of the New York Times and
then have brunch at a vegan friendly restaurant called Paradox. The server asks me what type of protein I
would like in my breakfast scramble.
It's a question you don't get asked in Minneapolis. My choices are tofu, seitan, tempeh, and
eggs. I choose the tempeh, which when it
arrives has a crisp outer crust and a compact inner core. It's difficult to compare its texture or
taste to anything else, but it quite delicious and perfectly complements the
organic vegetables and diced and spiced potatoes.
Our destination for the day is
the Portland Art Museum. I like looking
at and learning about art and consider myself knowledgeable of art history in
general and Impressionism in particular.
Waylon hasn't been to the museum despite living here, which is often the
case with many people for many of the highlights in their city, so he was
looking forward to the experience.
The museum had a special
exhibit of bikes, which given Portland's biker status, Waylon and I
browsed. It featured about a hundred
bikes, from the first bikes to the newest bikes to bikes welded
together for odd design and yet ride able purposes. The curator of this exhibit displayed all of
the bikes as if they were art pieces and because all of them were new and clean
and had something interesting about them they could be viewed as art.
Inside the museum we follow
the floor plans which are laid out historically, starting with Grecian vases
and jumping to the Middle Ages. I tell
Waylon that I'm more of a quick browser when it comes to Middle Ages and early
Renaissance art because most of it is images of Christianity through the eyes
of Catholicism. “Too much Jesus,” I
say. Waylon agrees with me. At one point, I see Waylon looking at a
portrait of a woman wearing a shawl that for some reason doesn't cover her left
breast. “I like this one,” Waylon
says. “You just like it because her
breast is showing,” I joke. To which
Waylon says, “Less Jesus, more breasts.” We laughed so hard I thought the
security guard was going to ask us to leave.
We continued walking and entered the museum's Impressionism room. The first painting you see when you walk in
because of its size is Water Lilies by Monet.
We stood in front of it for several minutes and marveled and the
brilliant brushstroke technique and how the painting changes depending upon how
close or far you are when you look at it.
The last room we entered was twentieth century art. I was surprised at the number of minimalist
paintings they had, the large canvas of only yellow paint, the large canvas of
blue with a white line down the middle.
I recently read an essay by a woman who wrote that most people say they
don't understand abstract or
nonrepresentational art and that the cognitive dissonance is the point. It challenges us. When we look at a painting of vase with
flowers we understand the idea. We can
say we like the colors or the technique is amazing because it's so
realistic. Abstract art makes us think
differently. We need to ask “What's
going on here?” We still have a
reaction. I reacted with a positive
emotion to the large canvass of yellow because I like the color yellow and it
reminded me of the sun. An
expressionistic painting is going to have colors and shapes and movement that
causes us to react. The art will make us
think or feel. I might not understand or
appreciate the technique or what looks an incredibly simple painting—yellow on
a canvass—but this artist has established himself in the art world and the art
world values his contribution and ability.
Finished at the Museum we
headed to the grocery store. Four of
Waylon's friends were coming over for dinner this evening and he needed to buy
a few items for the meal. You can learn
a lot about a city's food culture by it's grocery stores. Waylon shops at Market of Choice, similar to
Whole Foods. I noticed a few generalizations: Portlanders love organic. Virtually
every food item, not only fruits and vegetables,provided an organic option. Portlanders love power bars. I think the bar section was as large as the
cereal section. I didn't know there were
this many companies making power bars and I didn't know there were this many
options for what you want—high carbs, low protein; low carbs, high protein;
endurance; strength; gluten free, vegan, and of course, organic. Portlanders love Oregon wine and beer. I didn't realize there were as many wineries
in Oregon as represented on the shelf.
Several people told me the most common and the best is the Pinot Noir
followed by the Pinot Gris, but every other variety of wine was represented. Similarly with the beer. The other side of the aisle featured beer
brewed in Oregon and it was as large as the wine section. The previous day at Powell's I read that
breweries are the fastest growing business in Oregon and Oregon has the third
largest number of breweries after California and Washington.
Back at Waylon's home,
Waylon's friends arrived and we sat in the living room talking. and then sat outside while Waylon grilled
tempeh, potatoes, and plums from his bakcyard tree (delicious) and served a
mixed green salad. An article I read in
a magazine several months ago stated that if you want to get to know a variety
of wine, drink it exclusively for several bottles over several weeks so that
you understand the general taste and the nuances of its flavor, and then switch
to something else. The contrast will be
distinct, which means you'll particular notice the difference in flavor of
whatever you've switched to. I decided
to do this with the Pinot Gris since it was new variety to me and one I most
likely wouldn't find in Minnesota. Waylon's friends were interesting and
enjoyable. I expected this to be the
case. You can learn a lot about a person
from his or her friends. Likewise, from
that person's roommate. Waylon's
roommate, Sarah, was a kind and happy woman who stayed at her girlfriend's
house for the weekend so that I could sleep in her bed rather than on the
couch, and the few times she was at home, I enjoyed talking to her, and I could
tell that she and Waylon has a great relationship as roommates. We played three board games after
dinner. I hadn't heard of any of
them. The first was like Apples to
Apples except with pictures and the latter two were in the Magic card game
realm. I've never played this genre of
board game before but I was trying a lot of new things already on this journey
and so I played with a lot of assistance.
Waylon and his friends really got into it. I could tell their inner kids loved playing
this. It struck me as a great way for
intellectual and imaginative adults to play with each other. Before I flew out to Portland I read an
article about what makes us happy and one of the items the author mentioned was
playing. I don't play often as an adult.
I have two nephews, four and six, and one godson, eight, who I play with when I
see them, usually once a month, but beyond that, I don't play. Unless you have children, I think that's true
for a lot of adults. I don't participate
in recreational sports, I don't play an instrument, I'm not involved with a theater
company. Writing could be considered a form of playing. Regardless, I liked playing the board games
and I'm going to make an effort to play more board games and to play more in
general. It's a great social interaction
and I want to foster for more socialization in my life with friends of like
minded nature. This trip to Oregon has
reminded of socialization and friendship as a key ingredient in my
satisfaction.
Waylon's friends left. We cleaned the kitchen together. He worked in the morning, and like I do, he likes waking up in the morning
to a clean kitchen with dishes washed, things put away, and the coffee ready to
go.
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