The Dimes and Lauryn Hare

Last night was perfect.

If there could be glitter and confetti shooting out of your computer screen right now, there would be.

After a long day in the Clinic, V and I met up to walk around downtown. We ate at a lovely lunch, procured more oils for my painting, and people watched in Powell’s Coffee Shop partly to keep out of the rain and partly because of vegan hot chocolate. Then, after realizing that the Occupy Portland protest had dissipated in the rain (Portlanders get crabby when they stand too long in the damp–they all went to have beer instead–because they’re more dedicated to being Portlanders than uniting for a cause in the square), we decided to hit up First Thursday. That’s where I met Lauryn Hare. She had a little booth set up just past a woman selling ridiculous headdresses and just before a booth sporting large, incredibly colourful paintings. Come to think of it–the paintings were quite worth a blog post of their own. I’ll find the artist. Anyway…Lauryn Hare, the photographer, was selling her silver gelatin prints for $5 and some beautiful colour lifts for $25. All I can say is that they were seriously underpriced. She has a very organic, slightly rough eye. I plan on taking advantage of her low priced work before she’s well recognized and I can’t get my hands on her stuff anymore. Though I haven’t permission, I’m going to throw up one of her photos for example:

I mean…how can you not be absolutely in love with this photo? Seriously, check her out.

And then there were The Dimes. V dragged me into this hipster mountain man type clothing store. There were $156 plaid shirts you could buy at a surplus store in Michigan for six dollars and pre-worn jackets ranging from $300-$600. All I can say is this: Big R, bitches. The only good thing about this store? That night they had free, local beer and The Dimes were playing. I feel obligated to share their page with everyone because right now you can download their newest album for free. Here’s a taste: 

The Dimes: Levi Coffin (Acoustic)

After listening to a couple sets, V and I hit up Rogue Brewery (because, alas, we are Portlanders too). Thank God for Irish Lager. I left feeling warm, full of art, and happy to have finally felt completely whole in the bustle that is this city.

This morning my cold knocked me on my ass. I won’t make it to the OR today, but I know I can get things done from home. Plus, I have to paint. I know this makes me a bit of a noob, but I was kind of shocked to find out that in Oregon, oils can take up to a year to fully dry. I’m doing this painting on commission of sorts–if it weren’t for the malleability and rich texture of the paint, I would regret my oil experiment and paint in only acrylic with reckless abandon.

Sigh. Listening to The Dimes. Yumm.

P.S. I totally have a hetero crush on Johnny Clay–he’s the quintessential Oregon Mountain Man. His beard makes his voice sound better. I’m sure of it. He would make an excellent sperm donor. Just saying.

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