The Apostrophe Blog
We are lucky to live in a city neighborhood that has alleys. An extensive network, sometimes overgrown, sometimes maintained, often a way to escape the hubbub of the street when out and about on a walk. Several years back, during the doldrum days of the COVID-19 pandemic, a gang of us worked with artist extraordinaire Jenny Joyce to paint a mural on the back of our garage, the side that is only visible to folks wandering these Woodlawn and Concordia alleyways. Native plants was our theme; we christened the final piece, “Sentinels.”
I was out there earlier this week checking on this and that. The scarlet tulips that grace the mound in front of the mural are blooming; the grasses behind them are just about coming into their own. My mesh-encircled stack of maple leaves slowly, slowly, slowly is turning into the loveliness of pulverized and usable mulch. This is the reality of our greening and very green western Oregon spring—a welcome antidote to the daily nonsense and negativity.
Come visit, stop by, say hi. Meander and find surprises along the way. Celebrate art in an alley.
Interests: Reading, writing, not arithmetic. The art and craft of poetry. Photography. Vegetable and flower gardening especially heirloom bulbs and dahlias. Movies in real theatres. Theatre on real stages. Art in real galleries. Crossword puzzles and, of course, Wordle. Singer-songwriters like Aimee Mann and Patti Griffin. All kinds of music especially 1930s jazz. Venice, Italy! The Dude abides.
- Walk an Alley, Stumble upon Art - April 8, 2025
- Writing in Form: A Cento Published in Fence - April 2, 2025
- “We don’t want your Nazi cars / take a one-way trip to Mars.” - March 30, 2025
