Portlanding – Reentry is never easy. Burning through the atmosphere to find oneself crippled with the bends. Two weeks into recalibration life muted along.
Unfortunately heat shielding may be faulty. Dark of night two weeks afterward found train tracks receding into low frequency vibrations. Tipped along the rail. …………….
Followed echoing thumps between former way stations of commerce long past. Repurposing society’s cast offs is a major component of what built a city in the heart of a wasteland. A Refuge amidst Portland’s cityscape, the converted warehouse space allows a safe haven for loud music & late nights.
Security checked ze papers moving forward. The federally enforced birth label found atop the list allowed a smiling face to attach the latest accessorized wristband addition in black (for the fall season). Proceeded along the railing to find revelers moving to Mr. Moo.
Portland is art everywhere the head turns. Practiced healthy eye contact with some crazy birds after acquiring one of the stranger courage concoctions devised. Thanked the sailor for bar service after skipping the line. Lines at an empty bar… weird world. Wandered toward.
Found fellow builders dancing upfront. Hugs and greetings; glad you came. Frylock getting down to Octaban, fried monstrosities wavering through the bottom register.
Jabbered through the sound waves momentarily whilst snapping before slinging the camera to cut a hardwood floor (no rugs present).
Cargo rolled through the night as another friend appeared near the loos. Babbled introductions to surrounding acquaintances before stepping toward the bar.
Sidetracked again before a drink appeared in hand. Always nice to feel appreciated.
Admired one of the local art community’s more radical creations exhibited by local artistic collective Creative Collaborations. Kaleidoscope lived up to its pseudonym. A rotating accumulation of talent and expression brought together absorbing space & attention.
Stepped into blue to altered bass beats from the east courtesy of Manoj. A self described product of the dance floor; a very different sound nicely laid upon it.
Arm grabbed and dragged toward the door for a local favorite. Outside the crowd gathered in anticipation. No sign of an endangered species (doubt most mind).
Solovox did his thing which proved more than enough. Providing live musicality via keyboard while mixing the unexpected from the Jackson 5 to some of Cash’s fiery ring. A Portland local, the assemblage showered their admiration through movement.
Noise ordinances and late night pushed the remainder indoors as Solovox signed off. A comfortably crowded set as the evening’s headliner took control.
Sandra Collins resume reads lengthy. Surviving and thriving in the music industry is laudable in any vein. Moving with the quickly shifting times as ‘merican electronica morphed from another underground scene into the corporate interest currently driving mainstream music, Collins has spun along.
Live painting continued stage right while the remainder of a dwindling crowd kept moving past last call. Rhythmic deep house with a trance twist thumped outward as yesterday became tomorrow.
Lights up and the music goes on. The warning is nice rather than cutting off the vibration as most venues are wont to do. Ms. Collins finished off the early morning.
Collected a bike & found some pancakes before finally succumbing as the sun started rising. Woke up to confusion before reminding. Collected belongings, hugs, thanks & the door.
Life is on fire & always has been. Sometimes the flames licking upward is the start of something new rather than the end of everything that mattered. For thousands scrubbing endless dust from their eyes & souls readjustment continues from what life could be. Saturday night The Refuge provided sanctuary to Portland’s wandering souls. )°(
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