"Well Ain't This Place a Geographical Oddity. Two Weeks From Everywhere."

 A large old storm window, 47 by 34 inches.

Gin and Juice

A small window, 24 by 28 inches.  A Coke bottle, a gin bottle, and some long-stem flowers. 

Dylan on Money and Hamm's in the Wee Town

Money and Swearing, 15 by 22 inch

Hamm's in Wee Town, 7 by 17 inch

Little Red

A little red cabin by the lake for a coworker with a little red cabin by the lake.

Punk and a Red Flower Rebel

Punk, 27x24 inches

The Rebel, 34x28 inches

Drunk Bob Dylan, A Bottle of Dandelion, and The Wee City of Peace

Several pieces completed over the weekend.  First, Mr. Bob Dylan on a full sized window:

Next, an 11"x7" bottle of Dandelion

And finally, a couple wee cities, one, the wee city of Peace

Row Houses and another Wee City

Row houses on an old storm window, 28 by 47 inches.

And another wee city of 6 by 8 inches.  Happy New Year everybody!

Junket: Tossed and Found

Have you been to super cool new vintage store, Junket: Tossed and Found? 

Owner, Julie Kearns, is being so kind as to allow me to hang a few windows in her place.  She's open every other weekend.  She has lots of great stuff.  Here's to hoping all stop in and check them out.

Address:  4047 Minnehaha Ave S, Minneapolis-Longfellow

For hours and details visit her site here: http://www.facebook.com/junkettossedandfound

Some of my windows as they hang at Junket:





Leonard Cohen

In the very early 1990's, I worked as a bellman at the Whitney Hotel in downtown Minneapolis.  We were really the only upscale hotel in town at that time, so we got all the musicians, actors, and general celebrities.  My goodness, that was a fun place for a college kid to work.  Anyway, one early afternoon I was summoned to the room of Mr. Leonard Cohen.  He and his then girlfriend, actress Rebecca De Mornay, had laundry that would need to go out.


After arriving at their room, we spent a few minutes chatting as they sorted their clothes.  How cool it was to be there, just the three of us (I wonder if he and Ms. De Mornay remember it as fondly as I do).  Anyway, Leonard Cohen, one of the world's great songwriter/poets called me "man" perhaps 50 times, "hey man,"  "thanks man," "how you doin' man?"  After a few minutes I was handed five identical button-down gray, Dickies style "work" shirts , all monogrammed in script with  Leonard Cohen over the left pocket.

Leonard Cohen, nice guy, genius.   And I love this quote, now in glass on a beat up old window:

Bottles and Flowers

I've had this piece going in my basement, in some way, shape, or form, for approximately one year.  I'd started and stopped it over and over again.  Well it's finally done. And I am happy with the way in which it turned out. 

Wee City

I had wee bits of free time this weekend, just enough to complete a wee city skyline of 12x5 inches.

The Cabooze (and The Joint)

The Reverend Horton Heat was my favorite band (still love um, I'm just too old now for the gymnastics of a mosh pit).  They're from Dallas, Texas and combine, deliciously, the world of punk and rockabilly (now referred to as "Psychobilly").  The Rev introduced me to this entirely knew genre of music one winter night in 1989 or 1990, at Minneapolis music club, The Cabooze.  I know that show took place in the winter because the band arrived late having been slowed by a blizzard as they made way through the Dakotas.  Just a few riffs in and I was hooked, for life.  I have probably seen the Reverend play 30 times, in five cities, and two countries.  And it all started at the Cabooze. 

Similar happenings also occurred at The Cabooze with funk legend, George Clinton, and his 20 or so band members.  Saw them several times, but I saw them first in 1991 at the Cabooze.  I fell in love (so to speak, not literally) with surf music and surf guitar god, Dick Dale, at The Cabooze around the same time, I've seen him many times since.  I was there for Bo Diddley and his legendary square guitar, saw him shred the Cabooze stage in grand fashion.

In related lore, one day a couple years ago, a coworker and I made plans to see Gypsy punk band, Gogol Bordello, play a bar, The Triple Rock Social Club, just down the street from The Cabooze.  When trying to decide when and where to meet up before the show, the conversation between the two of us went something like this:

me:  "Where should we meet up tonight?"
friend:  "Let's just meet at the joint"
me:  "The joint.  You mean the bar, The Joint?"
friend:  "Yeah, yeah, let's meet at the joint, 7 o'clock."
me:  "OK, so we'll meet at The Joint, 7 o'clock, and then we'll just walk down to the show from there?"
friend:  "yeah, sounds good."

Well, in classic Laurel and Hardy fashion, my friend is not originally from Minnesota, and he did not know then that a mere 3 blocks from The Triple Rock Social Club, and adjacent to The Cabooze, sits perhaps Minnesota's proudest biker bar, The Joint.  (See where this is going?)  I sat by myself at The Joint, swilling beer nervously from a can, wondering where my friend was.  He wasn't answering the repeated phone calls I placed, PROBABLY BECAUSE HE COULD NOT HEAR IT RING OVER THE LOUD PUNK BAND PERFORMING WHERE HE WAS, three blocks away at The Triple Rock Social Club (you know, "the joint." "We'll just meet at the joint").  I finished my beer and went home.

Now in glass, it took forever, done on a large old storm window (36"x54").  The Cabooze and The Joint, two Minneapolis classics, now included in The Dive Bar Series.

Cave Point, Wisconsin

I've never been to Cave Point in Door County Wisconsin, but my coworker, Mary, has.  So when Mary was moved from a small cube in the middle of the School of Education to a swanky office with four walls and a door (and in a corner), she requested I help fill a bare wall with some art.  She requested Cave Point.

So, as seen hanging in Mary's office, Cave Point,  Door County,Wisconsin, in glass.

The Spot Bar

The neighborhood "below the hill," the West 7th neighborhood in St. Paul, has, to me, always seemed straight out of Charlie Brown.  Small, charming, older homes, stacked close together with little parks.  And lots of neighborhood bars (also small, charming, and older).  And considering Charles Schultz is from St. Paul, perhaps this is not coincidence?

Anyway, when traveling down the hill on Randolph Avenue, a few blocks beyond 35E on the northeast corner of Victoria Street, you have arrived at The Spot.  And on this spot, since 1885, has stood a bar.  In the beginning called Wittmer's Saloon and Tobacco Shop, now, The Spot.

About 20 years ago, I knew an older retired man who hung out at The Spot.  He drank scotch and worked the New York Times Crossword puzzle at that bar with great regularity.  Probably still does. He once told me that one day while there, and having finished off a few rounds, he put money on the bar to pay his tab.  Only to be informed that his money was not necessary, "drinks are free this week," because the owner had won $5000 in the lottery.  That's The Spot.  One night while I was there with friends the bartender disappeared for about 10 minutes, then returning with a bucket of fried chicken from Roosters up the street.  He sent the bucket around the room allowing patrons to take what we wanted, it was complimentary.  That too is The Spot.  And as of the last time I was there, it's been a couple of years, it was not possible to order a drink that cost more than $3.00. That's just how it is down there.  And I Promise you this, if Charlie Brown had been allowed to age into adulthood, he too would drink at a place called The Spot.

Now complete, next in the Dive Bar Series, and the first trip into St. Paul.   It's The Spot, in glass, 32x19 inch. 

 

Glass-O-Lantern Returns

Glass-O-Lantern made his return to my front window this weekend, there to scare the kids through Halloween.  Yes, I know it's only September, but it feels like Fall, and hey! Menards now has Christmas junk on display in their stores, so I figure I've got the right.

 

Back from Siesta and a Fiery Red Tree

So the LOLA art crawl was another complete success and is now easily my favorite weekend of the whole year.  It did rain some on Saturday, forcing us to scramble into the garage for about an hour and a half, but people still stopped by and we were able to move back into the yard after that.  Sunday's weather was perfect, the day started slow, but by afternoon we were hit with one wave of people after another.  It was fantastic!  Thanks to all for stopping by, hope to see you in my yard again next August.

I really haven't done much mosaic since the crawl, as illustrated by my lack of posts in recent weeks.  I did make one small piece two weeks ago as a donation to a fundraiser silent auction, but because we are in the midst of some major surgery on my house I haven't had a lot of free time.  A break in construction did recently offer some time, and with that a new tree is born on an old storm window measuring in at 50" x 24".  Seen below, two shots in different light conditions, lit from the front and lit only from the back.  Thanks for visiting my blog.

Bunker's Music Bar

Bunker's is a little brick building located on Washington Avenue North, in what is now a very trendy part of the Minneapolis warehouse district.  But in 1987, the first time I set foot inside Bunker's, it was buried deep in a dark, cold, part of town.  Among warehouses either shuttered or open for business only by day.  Bunker's, back then, was in the middle of nowhere.  At that time I was 18 years old, not of drinking age, but Bunker's didn't check ID because there was no reason to do so.  It was a "biker bar," everyone knew everyone, and the bouncers they had simply concerned themselves with keeping the peace as opposed to sitting by the door looking at ID's.  And I remember seeing some big fights there between those bikers.

But in 1987 Bunker's was also experiencing a change in culture.  Largely due to a band that played there every Monday and Tuesday night, Dr. Mambo's Combo.  This was a "cover band," but not just any "cover band," they were loaded with talented musicians, who had themselves been touring musicians at one time and essentially got together now to jam.  As word spread about these guys, the general public began to show in large numbers every night, and the bikers were slowly forced out none to happy to lose their hangout. 

Any touring musician that found him or herself in Minneapolis on a Monday or Tuesday inevitably made way to Bunker's at night.  One such night I found myself talking to a guy who was without question involved in the Goth movement.  He had ghost white skin and big whipped up jet-black hair. He had an English accent, and his name was Roger.  He was a nice guy and through conversation I learned that he was Roger O'Donnel, keyboard player for 1980's mega-group, The Cure.  He was in town to hang with a friend of his who had been hired by Prince to handle the
lighting for an upcoming Prince tour.  While Roger and I stood talking near the back restroom, one of the biker regulars took offense to Roger's appearance and started to verbally assault him, before Bunker's manager, Jimmy, stepped in and threw the biker out.  The change in culture was in play, leather and Harley Davidson were rolling out, and Bunker's was beginning to look a lot like the First Avenue crowd shots in the Purple Rain movie.

I saw Prince play at Bunker's many many times.  Sometimes he'd just sit and strum the guitar off to the right side of the stage.   On one occasion he showed up with his full band and played an entire set as they prepared to go on tour.  And for awhile he would arrive with then girlfriend, Kim Basinger, on his arm.  She was a complete bombshell.  I once sat on the pool table, a few bodies down, from music legend, Jeff Beck (Yardbirds et al.).  Percussionist, Sheila E, was a regular, often parking her baby blue 1960's era Mustang convertible just out the back door of the bar.  I remember being amazed because she had a car phone, a big deal in 1989 or whatever it was.  She would either just hang with friends for drinks or perhaps sit in with the band.  Others I remember seeing there, jazz musician, Ben Sidran, Dutch saxophonist, Candy Dulfer, members of heavy metal band, Tesla, saxophonist, Kenny G.  Donny Osmond sang one night.  And there are many I've forgotten.

For quite some time I did not miss going at least once a week.  And often it was both nights.  What a great place.  What a great scene.  What a great band.  Dr. Mambo's Combo is now, The Combo.  A few musicians have come and gone but they are still very good, and they now play every Sunday and Monday.  But as mentioned in previous blog entries, I'm an old person now and don't get down there very often anymore.  But I will never forget the great times I had at Bunker's Music Bar in the late 1980's and early 1990's.

Now complete, another installment in the Minneapolis dive bar series, in glass, Bunker's. 

A Few New Pieces and a Mirror like I used to make

I'm still in the midst of LOLA art crawl preparation, now just three weeks away.  I'd accumulated four 11x7 inch pieces, finished within the last few weeks, that until now had not made way onto the blog.  They are now pictured below.  And here again is the link to the LOLA website, http://lolaartcrawl.com/

 

Also, a few weeks ago we visited some friends in Chicago.  It had been a couple years since we last stayed at their place, and I'd forgotten about the glass on wood mosaic mirror they have hanging in their living room.  I gave that mirror to them several years ago, theirs is a square frame, perhaps 10 by 10 inch, mostly in red.  Before being introduced to the glass on glass style of mosaics that I now do, I used to make those glass on wood mirrors very frequently, but it has been several years since giving this style of mosaic consideration. 

Once back home I remembered I had a rather large piece of mirror, about a foot wide by maybe 4 feet tall, and a wood frame I'd made for it at least three years ago, both collecting dust in my basement.  Inspired by the mirror in Chicago I got started on mine, it's of glass with a smashed ceramic tea pot used in the corners.  This is unfortunately not the best picture of my new mirror, but I am quite happy with the finished product when viewed in person:

                  Broken tea pot used for corner

LOLA Art Crawl

In about September of last year I began planning for my next appearance in the LOLA art crawl, which until recently was something to look forward to "way off in the distance."  A quick invitation here to anyone interested, we are now just under one month away from this year's LOLA (League of Longfellow Artists) art crawl, August 25-26.  Please stop by my place to say "hi" and have a look.

Check out the LOLA website for directions and links to the 115 participating artists (largest LOLA art crawl ever!):  http://lolaartcrawl.com/. 

I'll be bringing this up again as the crawl draws even more near.

Al's Breakfast

Blueberry buckwheat pancakes or "The Spike?"  This is the question I considered more often than any other while "attending" the University of Minnesota my freshman year.  It was 1987 and I was one of 60,000 students there, at the time the nation's largest student body.  It is probably no surprise then that I survived on that campus just one year, that's two semesters, before "taking my talents" elsewhere. And I do believe I skipped class and dined at Al's at least once a week then.  The Spike, a two-egg cheddar cheese scramble, with garlic and mushrooms, oh so good.  The pancakes, especially the buckwheat blues, I have NEVER had pancakes as good as those.  Al's, I hold you partially responsible for my lack of success at the University of Minnesota!

Al's Breakfast, opened in 1950 to a width of 10 feet and a length of 14 stools, perfectly placed in a neighborhood by the name of Dinkytown.  A friend once told me he walked into Al's one morning and then New York Knick basketball player, Patrick Ewing, all seven feet of him, consumed the back corner of Minneapolis' "narrowest restaurant."  One day I sat at Al's, a couple of stools down from former Viking linebacker, Scott Studwell.  Like bears on a bicycle these guys at Al's.  While waiting to be served it was common practice for my friends and me to inspect the large amount of clutter on the other side of the counter for some sign that Bob Dylan had eaten there.  "Meal books," which allowed regulars to pre-pay for meals, are stacked amongst the knick-knacks, many are very old and have the customer's name written on the cover, but we never did see one for Dylan, who did live just up the street a couple of decades prior. Dylan must have eaten there.

Al's Breakfast in glass, definitely not a bar, but I include it anyway as the third installment in the Dive Bar Series.  As I've mentioned before, sometimes I like to show two pictures, one with the lights on and one back lit only, that's what you see below.  I'm hungry.