Ukiah to Carson City, halfway there
Artists Week begins tomorrow. "It's the first week in August in Tuscarora," I always say to anyone who asks, and I pronounce the dates as though it were a big deal, and it's not, except to me, but I'll get to that at some point.
Today is about hunting and gathering across the Sacramento Valley. I'd like to say that the tradition of eating well--and drinking well--has something to do with nourishing creativity. Nope. Joan and Heidi are extraordinary, creative cooks. Rosemary and I are better than average. All four of us love to eat well, drink well, and believe in the conviviality of the table.
Rosemary is in Provence right now. Heidi will be dividing her time between Redwood Valley and Ft. Bragg. This blog is for you guys and for Pam, who was there the first year and who I hope to persuade to come for a reunion soon.
Joan is already in Tuscarora. So is Sid. James will be there tomorrow evening. So will I. Joan's friend Sally is coming on the train Saturday night or Sunday night.
So far, so good on the hunting and gathering. Right now in the back of the suburu I have a mixed case of Parducci sauvignon blanc and petit syrah; six fresh loaves of bread from Schat's Bakery; jars of mufaletta and dried black olives; almonds and walnuts from Granzella's in Williams. Tomorrow I'll go to the Farmer's Market in Carson. I should be in Tuscarora by five.
I listened to NPR most of the day. On Fresh Air, they recognized the passing of dancer and choreographer Merce Cunningham--who died Sunday at ninety--by playing an interview Terry Gross had with him when Cunnigham was seventy and his life partner and collaborator, John Cage, was still living. Those were two influential lives of art--over fifty years. Cunnigham choreographed and produced a new work just last year. "Almost Ninety" was the title.
What stayed with me from the interview? Random things. They loved to hunt mushrooms. Cunningham spoke about the importance of observation, paying attention to your surroundings. John Cage said that he was more interested in individual sounds, whereas most musicians are attentive to the relationship between or among sounds. Both incorporated randomness, chance into their works. Each of their voices was measured, serious, almost ecclesiastical. Now they were real artists. At some point, some evening this week, we will watch the sun go down and have a lively discussion about what that means--:real artist.
I know that my annual proclamation, "Artists Week is..." honors the spirit, the creative impulse in all of us. I know that. It's seventeen years now. Pam, can you believe it?!
Can you smell the rain? Did you hear the thunder roll? A brief cloudburst just cleared the air, made big flat splats on the sidewalk in front of my son's house.
To be continued...
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