Here's the final installment of our journey along the fence in Port Townsend, Washington. We've turned the corner and gone most of the way up the hill along the second span.
The next panel combines milled, stained wood with bamboo in a pattern that is balanced but not rigidly ordered:
It's kind of amazing that pieces of wood as irregular as those in the next unit can be combined into a pattern that feels like it was constructed from precise bits:
Were those leftovers? Maybe! If so, they certainly provided appropriate inspiration.
That panel's close-up reveals the crowning baseball bat . . . and a white rock nested at the center of the wooden diamond:
Next door, we have another regular/irregular rhythm—these panels offer interesting, while comparatively restful, contrast to the earlier, busy collections of parts:
And here's the final panel, with lines that feel almost scribbled, abutting the concrete-and-chainlink establishment, part or all of which almost certainly existed when the fence we've been looking at was conceived:
That final panel looks quite simple, doesn't it? It is.
Or is it? Here are some close-ups:
As the job was completed, did the tools become part of the assemblage they'd helped build?
We ended our journey to Port Townsend, our former home, in the downtown area, at the Silverwater Cafe. This restaurant didn't exist when we lived here, but its owner is a long-time friend, even a member of the extended family, and I had heard about, but hadn't seen, what he'd accomplished. Back in the day, he was a really good cook (an exceptional lefse maker, among other things, and that's both art and craft). He still is. It's the sort of place where they have ongoing discussions about how the coleslaw should be made (I'd say exactly as they've got it now), and whether it appropriately complements every other menu item that it finds itself next to.
Sort of like building the panels on a fence.
Here's a photo of my sister and my mother outside the cafe. Along with the flowers in the window boxes, rainbow chard is also growing.
I can recommend the lentil burger. It's rightfully famous.
As we traveled back toward Seattle, most of the traffic was going in the other direction. The ferry ride was, as usual, smooth and prompt. While the weather had cleared up a bit, the gray skies still provided a subtle backdrop for a downtown landmark.
And that's that. The next post will talk about something entirely different. I have some ideas what that will be, but I'm not certain which of the alternatives will bubble to the top and get written up. . . .
I'm hoping it will also include news about the rediscovery, and completed delivery, of three much-missed packages. . . .
Wonderful story. And Lefse? I haven’t made any since the ’70’s but mom still makes it for holidays. Brother makes garlic lefse, parmesan lefse. Far too flavorful to be properly authentic, but his crowd approves.
Susan J Tweit
Now that’s a fence! I especially like the “theme” panels and the small details that casual passers by might not notice. Thanks for the story in photos and commentary. And welcome home–I hope the missing sample boxes have surfaced.
I think the fence is wonderful, and I loved the commentary on your response to the fence. I hope the fence’s maker sees your posts. I’m reminded of the time I figured out that you can make pie filling with fresh fruit and fruit juice – ANY fresh fruit and ANY fruit juice. It may have started with strawberries and apple juice and moved on to apples and papaya nectar, but before I moved on to something else there was a long series exploring combinations never-before-imagined, unified by some common rules that have to be observed to make it function as a pie.
I also loved your story of sharing the walking about looking for places and things that have meaning in your memory. We talk about this exercise as ‘dusting off the plaques,’ imagining that there should be a brass plaque that says ‘Deb Robeson habitually walked by this place and still carries impressions gathered …’ It sounds like you had a very fruitful time dusting off the plaques.
Thanks for the posts, and here’s to UPS finding missing boxes.
Fiber art is everywhere: Love the fence quilt!