Friday Field Study: Northwest African American Museum

Please note the change in schedule. This Friday, we will visit the Northwest African American Museum in Seattle's Central District. Along with the permanent collection, there's a photo exhibit on the historic jazz scene on Seattle's Jackson Street. Ray Charles, Quincy Jones, Ernestine Anderson, and others featured.

Please bring bus fare, $4 for museum admission, your journal, and a pen.

All these poets in the breeze

"Love is short. Forgetting is long." These are the words written in my borrowed journal. I read them, repeat them, mull them obsessively as I step gingerly onto green blades in the soft autumn sun.

Cold stone. Not sweet like ice cream but unwarmed by the sun and salty from many hands sweeping many times over and over and over the smoothed, wrought surface.

"rad!" yelled roland, spooning banana compote into more bailey's-filled shooters. "RAAAAAAAD!"

[This is a quote that has stuck with me for sometime. A little meme that I play with in my head while watching twin girls play a game of tag.]

Somehow this park leads me to idleness. Unable to see anywhere but inward I remember symbols I've seen in the books I've read.

* <- this is K. Vonnegut's symbol for his asshole. For your asshole. Except those who don't have one. Their asshole is their belly button. Weird world.

I get up, walk around, find a place where I can take it all in. A 360º marvel of intimacy and distance.

FROM WAY UP HERE I can see over there.

The red-headed dreamer next to me giggles and reads from her small book. "Pleasure's a sun and sometimes sin's a pleasure." L. Byron wrote this.

I counter with something from the back catalog, something juicy from C. Bukowski. "Sexual intercourse is kicking death in the ass while singing." We both laugh. That's how I feel here. I mean not like I'm fucking a person literally in out in out but that wind feeling. That wind feeling like it gets in my skin. By touching me it takes my warmth and leaves me something more. Equal exchange. Alchemy in motion.

Now we sit together in the sun fervently reading frightened words. All the girls have mud on their jeans. The twins are back, dressed like little butterflies. They mumble in child speak- crazed communication. I don't understand. This cat next to me apologizes for bad poetry. But his squirrel eyeballs me and I dig it. There's a warhead in my pocket. An empty wrapper though, no hard candy to pass the time. I like when your words match your speech. Excpet when they rhyme. We gotta have consonance in the dissonance. We are all having one of those days.
Girl, take me with you down the rabbit hole. We can hear all these new sentences that have never been said before. We can fall in love with all these poets in the breeze.

Atop the SAAM Camel in Volunteer Park

Volunteer Park Observation 10/15/2010

As I climb up the water tower, my legs feel as if they are going to give in as I take each step up the spiral staircase of rock and hard aged cement. As I let the weight of my body down with each leg on each step, I can hear a clear echo as if something responded. DOOM! doom. DOOM! doom. DOOM! doom. The walls are made of brick that have changed color over time. Orange, red, brown, black, and lighter and darker shades of each. At the top of the tower looking out of a black metal caged half circular window there is little to no activity. There is a 360 view of Seattle if you walk around the tower in a circle. When walking through the parking lot I pass a dented, rusty metal garbage can with a squirrel nibbling on a french fry. That was the closest that I have ever been to a squirrel. I stand there and observe. I walk closer. The squirrel eyeballs me as if to say "you better not!"

My Swing Set

(as i sat with a tree in volunteer park i keep thinking about how at home i felt just sitting with it and this is what came to mind)

"It's cold here

The goose bumps on my arms

are a constant reminder of this

They tried to clip my wings...

Feet hitting the ground in a rythem

that is unmistakably running

I slip out of the house into the night air

My mind is swerling with thoughts

Flashes of memories pricking at my skin like nettles...

I push away the chains and keep on moving

blind with fear

My tree comes into sight towering above the others

It's branches sweep down as if to welcome me home

I keep my dreams here...

hiding in the nooks and crannies of the weathered bark

I climb into it's arms

I am set free from the doom

The pain becomes nothing but a faint glow

Here i am only one

And this is my world....

Tonight i will sleep here with the leaves and squirrels

and tomorrow will be a better day...."

Just a normal field? or the site where a massive battle of whits and speed took placed that challenged a group of young kids to turn this "field" into a battlefield!!









The thing that actually interested me the most out of this koi pond was that there was baby koi too. Usually when i find a koi pond it just has the big ones. And i did find a present day nemo! it was obviously physically challenged

The people of Volunteer park.....

A perfect way to end the day... crowded together on a llama

Volunteer Park

It was a sunny day outside and so on this day, I foolishly decided that I did not need my sweater as the almighty and bright sun would warm me up just perfectly throughout my entire time trip to volunteer park. Of course, it was pure stupidity for me. I was freezing almost the entire time I was there.

Upon reaching volunteer park, a group of us decided not to go hunting for the places listed on our handout, but play a game of tag under the bright (and at this time, warm) sun.

As I see it, it was one of the few chances for us to relive our childhood. When else can you act like a kid again? Sadly, the sounds of laughter soon turned into panting. Not surprising.

At this stage, the sun was still on our side... It was actually warm.

Clank... clank... clank...

Up the metal spiral,

Red brick left and right,

Windows sealed with metal bars.

It's a lot like a castle,

Or perhaps a medieval prison?

And then I reached the top,

How I thought it would be higher.

My panting breath,

Barred windows encircling around,

The large empty room,

So quiet and serene.

The view was hindered by the bars,

It feels a bit like a prison...

Oh look, it's a bench.

Let me rest and catch my breath.

After this, the group decided to leave to walk around the park for a bit before we had to gather together again... The sun betrayed me from this point onwards. It was still sunny (at times, blinding), but it wasn't warm. The wind overpowered me many times as I try to warm myself with my scarf.

Fail.

Volunteer Park Water Tower

From far away the brick looks normal, but when you get closer the brick takes on a totally different feel on the eyes. It's so uneven, misshaped and in some areas looked as if it had been melted my a fire or around a century of hot summers. All over the surface of the building there are remains of decades old graffiti. Then you look at the entry ways and they look so out of place with the clean and strait and untouched looking white stone.

The Volunteer Park

I was told I missed my chance to relive my childhood after not participating in the much spoken of 

game of tag. But I know that is one chance that is never missed. I am alive as a child every time I 

set my eyes on the unknown.

Why put into words my experience at this park? The poet in me says no on this one. I have absorbed,

and feel no need to reproduce or describe.

The sensations felt by myself and many others remain alive in it still. Go there and share in it, I say.

Yes, it is beautiful. 

What this park is to me now?

A sickly little fish weakly swimming sideways, weighed down by its misshapen belly, as human eyes are turned towards the beautiful. As jaws are dropped in awe of the lighting, the shadow, the overwhelming day.

The same things that are seen over and over again until they begin to lose original meaning.

Real appreciation.

Unaware of a little plea going unheard.

In one of many little ponds that seem so much less, but are so much more, worth admiring.

Pioneer Square

All wet today.

I went in the rain, arent I a rebel?

Time-wise, my visit was perfect. Weather wise, not so much.

It was raining, deserted and cold. 

I liked it very much nonetheless. What a different little part of Seattle.

I would certainly not have discovered it for a while had we not been given this assignment.

But as perfectly sweet as the square and surrounding area is, I was still wet and cold.

And so were my socks, as I had walked all the way there.

I was hungry.

I was listening to Scooter.

Anyone remember them?

I was enjoying myself.

Art. I have learned that it is truly the essence of this city. This little piece of creativity has only been there

for the past few months. As if a tiny part of ocean life swam into this gray city with the rain.

Something about the looming gray of material and immaterial everything on that day,

 surrounding the persistent little colors. Absence of color overwhelms so much more than presence.

I thought to myself all along: I will certainly come back to this neighborhood when the weather is better.

When I am motivated. When I have the money to spend in the shops with the pretty things in the

windows that make me drool a little.

My heart leaped when I saw something I had never seen before in the US.

The Berliner Döner. Know what döner is? It is one of the best things you will ever taste.

For carnivores only.

I had given up hope of finding it on this side of the ocean and it reinforced my faith in Seattle just a little.

And so I trudged.

Until I was stopped in my trudging by a boy with an umbrella.

He asked if he could walk with me and I asked him why.

He was an artist.

Pioneer Square

Pioneer Square... pioneer square. 

Such stark contrast from what I'm used to seeing.

A small glance into the past,

A place of old, of character and history.

Walking around with my brother,

He says "it's not a safe area for a girl."

I brushed it off without a second thought.

Whatever.

I see the totem pole, so tall and odd

I see brick buildings, such character and age

I see a sinking building, a wedge between two paths

Then I see the underground, or should I say the 1st floor?

The underground tour was fascinating.

The history of how it came to be.

It was dark, cold, with a weird dusty smell,

I wonder if it'll cave in one day.

Satisfied and happy, I left the tour.

Then I hear a "Hey YOU!" and saw a man.

He marched right up and handed me these leopard sunglasses,

"Merry Christmas! Your good karma!"

I bowed, thanked and left in a jiffy.

Both stunned and confused.

The sunglasses sit on a "no parking" sign,

And I sit in my car back home.

Don't Judge Me.

Pioneer Square!

The walk to Pioneer Square is not a terrible one as long as it's not raining, which of course it did in unpleasant bursts that prompted my third outfit change of the day when we finally got home, wet and whiny.  The Square itself was interesting, although I wish we'd gone on our usual Friday and not on a Sunday evening, when most of the shops were closed.  Our first stop was the totem pole, which I somehow failed to notice at first even though it takes up a large part of the square we were standing in.

...What totem pole?

After that, we spent a good deal of time exploring the area, pointing out all of the shops that would be fun to visit if they were open.  I was struck mostly by how different the area seemed from the areas we'd walked through to get there, which is one of my favorite things about Seattle.  The Denny Triangle area where we live is completely different from Downtown, where all the giant malls and upscale department stores are, which in turn is completely different from Pioneer Square, which had a wind-y, old-timey, red-light district-ish feel about it that I dug.  

The other thing I enjoyed about Pioneer Square was that I found two separate things that I recognized from our course reader:  The cast-iron bus stop thing...

  ...which is on the front cover of our book, although from a different angle, and this sign...

...which was in one of the essays we read recently.  I was super excited that I was seeing things that were in a book until I remembered that this was a book made for this course and about Seattle, so it wasn't like I'd spotted the white whale from Moby Dick or anything.  It still made me happy though.

All in all, I enjoyed Pioneer Square, although I'd like to go back sometime soon on a better day and in friendlier weather because I don't think I really got the whole experience.

Pioneer Square

Jeremy and I joke that at least it isn't raining as we walk down the orderly Seattle streets, past rows of closed restaurants and cafes, toward Yesler Way. We had walked up to Kerry Hall and back in the pouring rain on Saturday and it was a relief to see dry skies. Of course, as soon as we reach the tangle of streets that marked Pioneer Square, it starts to sprinkle. Our first destination is the totem pole in the middle of the tiny park.

"What totem pole?" Jeremy asks. "Oh." The pole is not negligible, but it lacks a sense of power, considering there are buses and bums and trees covering and surrounding it. We take a picture of the glass posters written in (what Google has informed me is) Lushootseed and we move on.

For the most part our journey is documented in pictures and jokes about tattoo parlors and rug shops. We run into several of our classmates and it is almost like a regular Friday field trip! However, since it has begun to rain severely, we decide it would be best to head back so, with a quick stop for food, we hurry home.

A lasting impression of Pioneer Square: kind of dirty? I'm sure I'll have to go back and explore more when I'm not so worried about catching pneumonia.

Pioneer Square

saturday 10/9:

As I walk dow the semi familiar streets of Pioneer Square memories come back to me from when I was young and me and my cousin were really close friends. I remembered they time when we were down here and we were sitting next to the totem pole, my cousin and I were telling each other stories we were making up on the spot about how it was made and what all of the faces meant. I told here that if she started at the bottom one for too long she would have ten years bad luck. She believed me and then I laughed. This is a place to me I guess because there are memories attached to it that make it familiar to me.

I do think that it is funny when people have umbrellas in the rain when most of them probably live here.

mackenzie

Inspiration: Incomplete Manifesto for Growth

For a bit of inspiration, check out Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth": http://www.brucemaudesign.com/#112942/

Cape Disappointment Lighthouse

Photo by Irene Watkins (Integrated Studies, Fall 2009)

Pioneer Square Alley

Photo by James Macry (Integrated Studies, Fall 2009)

Pioneer Square

Taking the bus to Pioneer square would have been a pleasant bust ride away, had the bus gone down to pioneer square that day. So instead of a leisurely bus ride, I had a very long stroll. Luckily 3rd avenue doesn't climb any rigerous hills or descend as if it were taking you to the earths core itself. And not taking the bus made me see the smaller detials i would have otherwise missed. The trees that encroached on modern society by standing their ground in the concrete jungle were adorned with metal grates over their soft dirt groundings. Some were simple slats of metal designed to let water in, while others were intricately designed with leaves and twigs within the metal to mimic a woodland floor that had existed many years ago.



Across from these trees are feats of man kind. Towering buildings were decorated with art of all different kinds. Some of a molten looking rock and others with murals that stretched higher than I could reach, given that I'm only 5'3" it may not seem like much, from down here that's pretty damn tall. As I reached the actual Pioneers square area I felt as though I had taken a step back in time. Buildings were fillagreed with wonderful architecture and sculpted to look intricate and amazing. You don't see to many buildings like this anymore. Though some of them have been restored or remodeled they still hold the charm and awe as their aged pictures held on the piece of paper guiding me on my journey.


Pioneer square has almost anything you can think of: pizza places, the underground tours, bakeries, pizzarias, rug shops, child care, centers to help the less fortunate, bubble tea stores, antique shops and even a kilt store?! As I passed through occidental avenue I saw a totem pole that seemed to have been dismantled from when I had seen it the previous year. It seems as though this place is always buzzing with life, always changing and growing to the needs of the people. Stages are put up and torn down, stores come and go, installed art is added and removed.



Yesler Way was an odd street to say the least. A large triangle building jutted out of the hill looking like the wales that breech not far away from the bay. The open parts of the structure reminding me of the whales mouth. What a peculiar part of town. Old looking buildings coverd this area as well, making me feel like should wear some of my grandmothers outfits to fit in with the buildings. The apparentess of the conflict during the street grid construction is apparent, navigating the streets and following cross walks is like follwoing a pirate map with a tiny 'X'. Good luck finding them!

Going into the shops wether it be a rug or candy shop gave you a real feel of community. Everyone was friendly and every store unique. Some had giant teddy bears or giant rugs, giant sculptures or a well known history. The owners definatly knew their craft and were eager to share information on how a rug was made, or what processes create delicious fudge. I didn't really understand why there were giant teddy bears, unless they are just to sit there for an embaressing photo of a friend :)

Standing next to this gigantic building made me feel really really tiny. I didnt even recognize this structure until i walked a few blocks away. Then i could finally see the top and it resembled the image that we were given.






When i found this sculpture i was actually surprised, because it was not in our handout as something to look for. I dont know if anyone else read about this sculpture but it was built in memory of all Seattle's fallen Firemen. I really loved seeing these statues. The detail in the Firemen make them seem so life like.

So i had to write about my experience in Pioneer square inside of the globe bookstore which is located right next to the, at the time, closed arcade. But i actually was glad that i was forced to write about it in this store because the store owner actually had a lot of information that he was more than happy to give. He told me about how the Grand Central building was actually called the Squire Latimer named after the two owners. This building was actually Seattle's first opera house, which also produced musicals. When this building, along with practically every other building burnt down in 1889 new regulations were made to limit the amount of wood in these buildings. Squire Latimer was practically all wood, as were the other buildings in this area. The owner even told me that the sidewalks had wood in them. After the fire it was rebuilt in just four months, but now it was built with brick and steel. During the Klondike gold rush the building was then turned into the Grand Central hotel until the 1950's when it was turned into what you would find today.
and i think i just made the "turned in on Sunday" mark!!
Michael Eber

Gently twining metal reaches to embrace panes of frosted glass.
Fallen leaves cling stubbornly overhead,
Forming a second canopy for this graceful shelter.
The air flow changes slightly here,
A sense of peace pervades.
Despite the steady pitter patter,
Passersby hush as they walk, protected, between the loving arches -
Almost as though they also feel the difference.

heavy mist. certain destination, uncertain path. we turn right, then left. above, gray. below, red. shimmering silver in the green. frozen figures standing vigil. left. journey completed, one path becomes two.

up and down. retracing and reforging my steps. my feet take me to a hidden place. down. a ceramic cavern. warm. alone. labyrinth. I am comforted. but the maze leads me out. up.

the way shuts behind me.

The 4th Floor

Climbing up the stairs

thinking to my self how did i get here

wondering when i'll reach the top

and what will be there waiting for me

then....

the blinding color

shading my eyes it engulfs my body

taking me over like the sea

everything is quiet

i try but no words will come out

suddenly i'm laying on the ground

small sparkles of white light above me

thoughts racing thru my head

my mind is still

i'm lost in the size

in the memories

in the pain

in the color

in the red.....