A Day at the Museum

"Art is the most sublime mission of man since it is the expression of thought seeking to understand the world and make it understood."

- Rodin

Written by Guy.

Sharing what we see is a defining characteristic of our modern culture. Each day millions of people share photos on Instagram or Facebook for all the world to see. We share our breakfasts, lots of pictures of cats, and maybe some humble-brag moments like going to the gym or actually working late. Too often we share the frivolous, the senseless, and anything else that we think will get a like.

In that heap of memes, gifs, and lattes with a perfect floating leaf in the foam there are also countless people sharing photos that embody their experiences and perspectives. Photography is the art of capturing a real-life image of the world to perpetuate a transitory perspective. Courtesy of the internet, anyone with a phone and data plan or access to wi-fi can be a published photographer with a worldwide audience. Everyday people step into the artistry of photography merely sharing what they see. They share their stories.

What impact will this have on our culture and politics—will the opportunity for awareness spark worldwide change?

Megan and I visited the Portland Art Museum this past weekend to see the American Photographs exhibit that features Robert Frank. Frank’s The Americans captured the conscience of the nation by showing the poverty and hardship widespread in 1950s America. Frank traveled the country for a year taking photographs of what he saw in small towns and blighted streets. Then he published his work, sharing it with the world.

His work gave a glimpse into a world starkly different from the Leave it to Beaver wholesomeness of early TV. People were struggling, fighting for survival in rural towns or equality in the inner-cities, and all the while sharing love and building their own communities. Frank captures all of this through his camera lens in The Americans. In doing so, he sparked awareness and helped pave the way for the fight for equal rights in the 1960s.

We now all have the power to raise awareness like Robert Frank. Scrolling through Instagram hours after leaving the museum, I am inspired by people sharing what they see and think. People no longer need someone to speak for them. With a phone and a minute—a few taps on the screen—anyone can let everyone know what is happening around them.


Portland is Not Messing Around This Winter

Written by Megan. 

Yesterday we were sitting at our respective work spaces at home, while watching the snow dance methodically to the ground. Our typically rain riddled city has selected a new favorite form of precipitation this winter. We experienced one of the snowiest nights in Portland history.

Of course, this means last night we had to sleep in the living room — the location with the best view of outside. We were a little too entertained being neighborhood watch-like citizens as we cringed each time someone attempted to drive up an incredibly steep hill perpendicular to our side of the building. We feel awfully bad for someone with a very small white car parked along the road, as several cars almost hit it. We did see someone actually hit one of the giant telephone poles. We watched attentively thinking and saying out loud each time, “why?” and “don’t do it!”

As for us, we are happy and warm inside. Stay safe out there!

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Happy beginnings. Strange movies. Date Night.

He writes in this font, she writes in this font.

Wonderful things happen when you embrace change, however minimal, and let necessity guide the course of a day. Or in this case a date.

Our plan last Saturday, the one that wasn’t rainy, was to enjoy happy hour at Bartini to initiate Date Night. Well, alas, Bartini was packed to the brim with people sharing our idea for enjoying the weather and weekend day at sunset. Walking aimlessly down 23rd Avenue thinking of where to go instead, a new dilemma met us on the path.

“My bra is falling… it’s literally at my belly button… also my jacket is bulky over my blazer and dress, but i’m cold.” Haha! Yeah, that sounds about right. I was, to say the least, incredibly uncomfortable. They say beauty is pain, but will someone start making things that, I don’t know, fits an actual woman’s body?  

On top of this, though under here, we were hungry — first world starving.

Stopping on our path to consider this problem, we turned our eyes left to find a solution waiting like the cliche fate of 90’s teen movies. Less abstractly, there were two businesses that could satisfy all these little issues: Uptown Billiards Club and Crossroad Trading Company.

“Okay darling, here is the strategy:

  1. Let’s duck into this pool bar so you can take off that vexing bra;

  2. Order something delicious to quiet the hangry;

  3. Drink something more delicious for revival;

  4. and then step into Crossroad so you can ditch the blazer for something more suitable.

Ready, break!”

Two tequila concoctions, some baked brie, and a sweater purchase later everything was just fine. I may have also found a steal of deal and picked up some Oliberte shoes.

Nothing special, but it was special nonetheless. As we walked back down towards 23rd Avenue, then a right on Hoyt, we laughed at how a falling bra turned to finding a perfect, quiet place for brie and satisfying drinks, then some bargain deals. More though, we were smiling because the night became more memorable merely because it did not go to plan. I guess the best things inevitably happen that way, for us anyhow.  

The movie was not worth reviewing by the way; strange. (Anomalisa) I still don’t know what to think of that film… it just, wasn’t for us.