The last twenty years of my life have really been about embracing all of the tiny moving parts. So much is unkown, and we keep marching forward. For the last four years I have been letting myself dream, thinking about where do we go from here. Comparing different cities that I might want to get old in, watching facsim rise in my country and debating living the last third of my life in my other country. (I’m honored to also be a Canadian Citizen.) I’ve been meditating on what kind of work I could do now to make life meaningful. Deciding who I wanted nearby as I find my way to being a little old lady. The universe has taught me to be patient and let things unfold when they will. And a lot has unfolded this last year. Some years one just remembers and 2026 will be one of those. Here I’ll talk about a few memories.
I’ll always have fond memories of my time in Portland. Some will be about silly little things. The “Tiny Magic Box” is one of those little things. The “Tiny Magic Box” (the elevator), was one of the things Dudley loved about living in the apartment building on Broadway. It was one of the things I could have lived without, but I just don’t do stairs the way I used to. That definitely had me missing my big silver bullet (Airstream), where I could step down one step and be in my backyard for the day, typically on a creek, or river or somewhere scenic. Dudley on the other hand loved the thrill of seeing who we would meet each time, from great big dogs to so many wonderful belly rubbers. It seems silly to write about it, but its a small detail of apartment life that I want to remember. It was how we got to know each other in our building and built some semblance of community in the apartments at a time where community was so needed .
With Cousin Canada. We connected affter discovering each other through ancestry.Small Town USA Acrylic on Canvas, Original lives in San FransiscoA View of surrounding bluffs, and hiking along the Sandy and Columbia Rivers in TroutdaleTrailerpark view along the Sandy River in Troutdale OregonWith my artist friend Brenda at The Ford PDX gallery for a shhow I was in.
Getting to experience having a real studio at ADX I will forever be grateful for, especially sharing the space with my two painter friends. But ironically, once I had my own art studio I would find myself going their gathering up my canvas and materials and bringing it home to paint.
I’m also grateful for my art friends at the troutdale art center, ford pdx gallery with all of the wonderfully currated shows, The Hatfield Hall employee art shows which gave me exposure to over 10,000 theater patrons a night, Nalu Kava Tea House – my favorite quaint small scale place to show, Art Design Exchange in Central East Portland Oregon – which introduced me to over one hundred creatives all in community, Brenda who became a dear friend through my trailer park life and a strong supporter of my Open Studios experiences, and…my cousin Canada and her family for getting me to the PNW in the first place and inviting me to go along on her family explorations around Portland and the PNW.
There are so many things I will miss about Portland, Troutdale and the PNW in general. I made a lot of good friends there. There was nothing like my side gig at the Portland 5 Theaters, working with all of those creatives from film makers, to actors, writers, painters and more, all enjoying a side gig that supports the arts while pursuing their artistic endeavors. Being of service to the patrons coming and going gave us a lot of comic material to laugh about. We even had fun with one of our own, a film director, who decided to make a mocumentary about front of house ushers and all we experienced. This led to a short conversation with Josh Johnson who we thought of us talent before he blew up big, but we were a little too late for. We had a good laugh about that. I met a lot of good people here and will miss them, but am betting we will stay connected in our own ways.
With Friends at The Troutdale Art Center… my Ordinary People exhibit behind us
I will also always treasure my time in Troutdale with the Troutdale Art Center and the artists there who welcomed me in. I was a stranger who stalked them on facebook and then snooped around and got invited in. It taught me I will always love being involved in creativity within community. My final art show in Portland featured the ordinary people I was meeting out and about doing such a variety of great resistance work. There were people working against book bans, fighting for affordable good health care, defending immigrant rights and the right to free speech, connecting community for democracy defense, fighting for our trans sisters and brothers and Portlands historic Black community along with other vulnerable populations and more. I’m honored at how much I learned from you all and work towards finding my place here in Minneapolis.
The Portland Metro is full of wonderful places to hike in the woods, delicious high end restaurant food carts that formed for survival during the pandemic, a dynomite improv commedy scene. I truly am a river girl and so obviously loved the rivers, the woods, the mountains and volcanoes, the ocean, the creeks, and even the urban hikes through all of the unique neighborhoods. Public transportation in Portland was a fabulous way to see a lot of the city. Plus the city is so walkable, and bikeable that there is no reason to not get out and about. There truly is so much to see and do that it would be easy to stay put, but that was not what was in store for me.
It all narrowed down to staying in this wonderful place in the Pacific Northwest, or going home to Minneapolis. All of my life I had never “gone back” anywhere. I was always moving on to the next new adventure. This time it was different.
After using writing to meditate on choice it became crystal clear, that in spite of it all, I needed to be back home. In spite of this beautiful Pacific Northwest, with ICE and its hatred on our Portland Streets I felt a strong pull to be back with family and what I call 40 year friends. Ironic that right after I made the decision and started telling my Portland peeps that I had decided to head back to Minneapolis where it felt safer in terms of the national scene, all hell broke out in Minneapolis. So you know I got some interesting stares.
I had made the decision so now I had to figure out all of the moving parts of how to do it. Someone told me once decision making really isn’t that big of a deal because you can make a choice, and then each new minute in life you can always make a different choice. This philosophy helped me traverse moving oneself and all of my belongings all the way across the country without the help of an employer relocating me. I’m happy to say I made it. And I learned a lot about going with the flow and the art of letting go. I learned how to take the next indicated step. In my next post, I will talk a little about that and also get into my story on my journey into climate activism work as an ordinary person.
Yes, my road dog Dudley is still traveling with me and I’m grateful for all of you still following along with my ramblings. ❤️
We simply wanted to embrace his ugliness and stupidity wrap it in our own people power and turn it into something beatiful, a positive moment. If Portland was a Hellscape as he said, well we wanted to welcome the world to our Hellscape.
A big shoutout to everyone who showed up and supported our tiny act of resistance. An especially warm welcome to @heycandace a real live travel influencer who saw our efforts online and decided she wanted to join us, even though she had never met us. I was truly touched by her kind spirit. Its been awhile since this all happened but I wanted it preserved here in my tiny adventure stories. Likely you’ll see a few more stories that go back a ways and are out of order. As you know, a lot has been happening in the last few years.
So, yes, he made a proclamation that our city was a hellscape and needed the National Guard to get it inline…. classic Fascist. Working downtown both walking around and riding the bus there was no evidence of any craziness in Portland. That is Portland Oregon. You may know us for our frogs, although it actually started with the chicken man, and before you heard about any of that very ordinary people, like us, gathered in community, creating art, sharing stories, laughing and telling the tiny man to fuck off in our own little way. I got to witness the hearing out here deciding whether or not we needed the national guard. Ironically, it was a judge he handpicked who pretty much made fun of him in the hearing and refused to bow down to fascism! And when he tested her ruling by sending the California national guard up here, her response made it crystal clear that her ruling stands for all of the states, just in case for some reason he didn’t get it. What a moment! To get to see brave, real people stand up to a narcisistic bully.
Back ot our art night…..To hold this event I simply gathered donations for paints (Thank you members from Indivisible D2), collected a few supplies from my own studio, collected old throw away Tshirts and canvas, and told folks to join me at ADX studios to make handmade promotional tshirts that spoke to everything we loved about Portland. From here this grew into a regular meeting where different folks would come and go and create art together. Sometimes I had some techniques to share, or someone else did. Sometimes people came with their own projects. Food and Drinks simply showed up. It was very much a mutual aid project. And it was very fun to laugh, create and play together.
What was unexpected was the warm reception from everyone. Everyone shared what had been very difficult from them in the last years going all the way back to the pandemic. One person shared she never leaves her home but appreciated a chance to connect with people again in a safe environment. All levels of art and artists showed up, and I’d like to think a little healing was experienced by all. When I get it together in Minneapolis I plan on doing something similar. Stay tuned.
Just a reminder for when you get tiredf, there are many ways to get involved. Its a marathon not a sprint. We can do this!
Dr Ayana Johnson, in advocating for environmental issues approaches her work from a positive point of view. Her book “What If We Get It Right” avoids the environmental doom and gloom message of the world is ending and rather focuses on the fact we can still make a difference. I loved her message because it spoke to me of hope. There still was a reason to get involved and do things diffferently. I love her venn diagram for involvement. She says look at the cross section of three circles: 1. What gives you joy? 2. What are your skills and 3. What issue would you like to work on. If you see where these three things cross it will create a great route for you to get involved.
I knew then I wanted to do something for the environment, in specific, oceans and forests, using my art and organizing skills. I started a painting series that would be a fundraiser for environmental organizations that I felt were really doing the work. That project is still in motion, but I took a side track, when I started getting involved in the protests back in Portland. I kept meeting so many, what I would call ordinary people, who were doing such great work, both in the context of their jobs and as volunteers. I also had people who called themselves friends who were so frozen by everything going on that they couldn’t even talk about it with me. They of course were living in their privilege of which they are slowly waking up to the fact that in the end the fascists will come for them the same as everyone else. This sparked a new idea for me.
I was so inspired by the brave people. I begain this portrait project documenting the heros and sheros I was meeting. I first painted myself so I could put people at rest about being a part of the project. The portrait would not be an exact likeness that could be used to track them down when found on the wall of a gallery. I wanted to encourage them to say yes to me. I had a goal to paint 100 portraits. I laugh at myself as I only got through 10. But those ten made for wonderful stories to share and inspire others to get involved. Possibly I will continue the story now that I am in a new city, but for now here are the first stories, the Portland ten.
Li Li G
I got the nickname from my first nephew when he was a tiny tot. I’m “Aunty Li Li”. I’ve been involved in so many ways I mentioned in the last post. Painting brings me healing and joy, and as I move forward with The ROHO Artists’ Collective here in Minneapolis, a collective of local Black Artists working out of a brand new gallery in the center of downtown Minneapolis, focused on using art to heal, that is my current path.
My story? Well, I have to say I was influenced in life by my mother, my father and other relatives who have always stood up. You know how your memory of life as a kid isn’t always reality? Well, I remember folks like Desmond Tutu, and Ceasar Chevez sitting down to dinner with us at the dinner table. I did have a great imagination. We used to eat dinner as a family every night and talk about joys, life, dreams. In my mind my dad knew all of these famous folks and they had dinner with us. I thought Eddie Two Rivers had been at Wounded Knee, only to realize later, he was simply a friend of the family. He had nothing to do with that. So we did have friends who would come eat with us, who were doing good work, and we had conversations about famous people. I wasn’t completely off. (This was all before the TV got in the way of family time, but that’s another story.) Anyhow, the reality was, we had conversations about so many famous people doing good work, and we had friends who joined our dinner table doing good work, and to me hearing their stories was the same as whether they were really there or not.
Also, growing up in the 60’s in south Chicago meant we were dealing with Red Lining, which to a tiny me looked like all of my friends moved and a whole new set of friends moved in, then they moved too, as well as lots of fires were being lit all around the neighborhood… peoples’s fences, cars etc. My dad, as the neighborhood preacher was very active in supporting families that had been targets of these fires and violence.
We also marched with our community to keep from having our neighborhood demolished and becoming a freeway. We won! If you look at a map of Chicago you can see the freeway turned and missed our neighborhood. Unfortunately, I see now, that meant somebody else didn’t get missed. But the point was I remember activism and speaking up for those less fortunate was the work of the church.
Fighting police violence against Black people was so much a part of my fathers work that he ended up on a communist watch list, and the FBI planted a spy in his church, imagine that. It’s crazy that fight still goes on today.
And then from my mother, who was a Chicago Public School Teacher and Artist (although she would never call herself an artist), I learned the power and importance in education as well as gained a love of being a creative, an artist. So now, I try to put it all together in honor of all they did for me. Everyday is a new opportunity for me to figure out what I might add to the fight, what gifts I bring, what joy I partake in, how I bring my voice to the front lines.
“White Oak Dancing”
Some folks liked the idea of using a nickname. And this friend and artist, has a passion for spending time in the gorgeous Pacific Northwest forests with her dogs hiking for miles. She had never really been involved in anything like this before. Becoming friends with me she already was becoming aware that she had to learn a lot more about Black and Brown issues. So when these issues came to the forefront here, it was a natural tranition for her to get involved and speak out for others. Plus, She has the absolute toughest kind of diabetes anyone can have. (I forget the name of it.) It requires special medication to stay alive. If she were to get arrested at a protest, she is sure the police would not work at getting her medications to her in the time she would need it. Everything is monitored through her cell phone and she knew she would not be allowed to bring that in the cell with her. Plus Health care was under attack and soon she knew she might not be able to get the medication she needed. So, in her own words, she was going to fight. She had nothing to lose, but lots to gain. She is in her later years, and I wanted to share her story for folks who have never done anything. It is never too late to get involved. It is never too late to educate yourself on the issues.
Malcom
Each person I painted, I first interviewed and took lots of photos of, as well as asked them to share their favorite photos of themselves with me. I feel so privileged for the time they spent with me sharing their stories. I met Malcom at the East Side PDX Safety Team training I mentioned in my last post. Malcom is also in his later years and told me it all started for him back in the 80’s when the AIDS epidemic first hit. He had aids and was on his death bed. There were trial medications out there, but he was something like 900 on a list of folks hoping to get one of the 300 doses of medications. He was literally days, maybe hours away from death when another patient died, and Malcom’s doctor gave the rest of the patient’s medicine to him saving his life. He had been so moved by watching all of the activists at work fighting to get him help, that he joined them in the fight and has been standing up since then. He told me “I mean I’m in my 60’s, I’m not going to chain myself to tractors anymore…. well… maybe I would if I saw my friends being taken away… but I’m going to figure out what I can do at this age. And I think its teach others what I know.” I got to go to a weekend long training on de-escalation, non-violent protest and civil disobedience that Malcom put together with a grant he was given from Indivisible. Again, so inspiring and what a gift to have known him, even for such a short time.
One of the lessons I learned in Malcom’s sessions was to know your limits. You do not help a civil disobedience team if you are the weakest link. I’m glad I tried it. Physically I would be the weak link where authorities would break through, ruining the whole effort. I had to learn to know my place, stay in my lane, help where it made the most sense. It was the head of the local ACLU who said, sure its sexy to be in the protest but they need volunteers in the back rooms filing stuff and answering phones. There is room in this movement and any movement for all different kinds of participation and activism.
Francisco Aguirre Velasquez
I sat for two hours on the porch rocking chairs at McMennimens listening to Francisco’s story which started at age six or seven. When he was a young boy in El Salvador, he witnessed the murder of his family when his house was blown up. All because his father would not give his farm land to the soldiers, and he would not join the army and carry a gun as a small boy.
He was whisked away through an underground network of people, who often didn’t even share their name, so that if he was caught and tortured he would not be able to give them up. They made sure he had money, clothes, food and transportation to the next location. He left home barefoot with the clothes on his back and some loose change in his pocket, not sure if his dad was still alive or had escaped. He eventually made it to the US alive due to this tremendous informal mutual aid effort. More ordinary people stepping up and doing what was right.
He came through Mexico and eventually ended up in the United States. At one point he returned home under cover, against the advice of those who knew him trying to find his dad. After following many leads he eventually found his dad had escaped. But by the time he found him, he himself was escaping again in the fields only to run into his father’s murdered body.
He witnessed so much horror growing up. Physically he escaped it to the United States but it took years beyond that to emotionally heal. His journey in the United States was not the most welcoming either. For his life’s work he helped other immigrants new to the country, showing them how to navigate the system and make sure they were doing what they needed to do to be in the United States legally. This work placed a taret on his back by local police where he ran into trouble due to bad advice from a mediocre lawyer that was assigned to him who didn’t speak or understand his language, nor did he understand English at the time.
This led to ICE agents wanting to track him down and send him bacck home. If he were to be sent back to El Salvador he knew he would be murdered immediately. Friends and advocates helped him get his record corrected, but he still fears the day he could be ordered to leave. Part of this journey included hiding in Augustana Church, a true sanctuary church, that protected him for months on end. (note; Augustana invited all of the local churches to meet to talk about how to follow them and become either a sanctuary church or a support for a sanctuary church. And at the meeting gave all credit to learning how do be a Sanctuary Church from the Black Church and the Civil Rights Movement led by Black Americans.)
When he married a Mexican woman and started a family he continued to do important advocate work along the west coast. His family helped him with this work. His son was tired of the harrassment from police. His son went back to El Salvador, thinking he would find “home” and escape the craziness here, since he didn’t feel at home in the US with all of the police harrassment of his family. He was a teenager and didn’t listen to the family telling him not to go. His son was murdered in the middle of the day on a soccer field and his body was left on the field all weekend. The authorities said to make sure Francisco knew what had happened. It was a message to him.
In hearing his story, and how much violence and sorrow he has been through I wondered why he didn’t simply run and hide more permanently. He said, helping these people is what his purpose was here on earth. It was a spiritual journey for him. He was really beyond ordinary to me, but I still wanted to tell his story and have him be a part of this project. He is an inspiration to all of us to find our purpose and live it to the fullest.
June
June sees herself as an armchair activist. She’s a makeup artist for actors and actresses so her life and talents are all about the visual. It makes sense that her ordinary small acts are all about wearing small things that cause people to strike up conversations with her about Palestine. She also has small products in her shop she gives her patrons, when she is not doing movie makeup, to educate folks on what is going on in Palestine. I saw her strength when I got to represent her in our IATSI union because a theater patron was challenging her on jewelry she was wearing. The patron chased her about and harrassed her calling her all kinds of names. The arts are a place where we challenge people to think, compell them to be compassionate, and share a diversity of views, all of which are political. June never shoved her ideas down anyone else’s throat, but rather engaged in dialogue when folks came to her inquiring. But in this case, there was no inquiry, just attack. From that day on, her colleagues joined her in wearing jewelry that spoke to the wish for peace in that area and backed June to keep standing up for what she believed in.
Jackie
Jackie is young and full of energy, as she leads the cause in getting universal health care for Oregonians. She is the Portland Chapter lead. I love when folks who have been on the planet less than a third of my life, teach me things.
She was a nurse who had a passion for helping those who are marginalized and less fortunate. She often worked with the unhoused and heard and experienced so many horror stories about our broken health care system. So when the opportunity presented itself for her to help make positive change she could not pass that up.
She helped me understand the process of testifying at the state capital and inspired me to inspire others to write letters and testify in favor of creating a better health care system for Oregonoians and sharing what we felt was importan to the plan. Her energy is contageous and she is helping Oregon make history.
Lisa
Lisa is an artist with food. Food is her love language. She donates money to local food mutual aid projects, which she knows goes a lot further than her cooking. But that is not enough for her. She also, on a weekly basis, cooks up incredible full meals, and packages them beautifully in environmentally sound but beautiful packaging. She delivers these to the local food refridgerators that you can find around Portland. Her favorite refridgerator spot near Killingsworth and 15th also has a food pantry, a clothes rack, and a barista who passes out coffee. I went along with her on a delivery to repurposed some of my favorite clothing that no longer fits me, and got to witness the reactions of the people who received her gift. At first they were surprised to get a fully cooked delicious meal, vs a can of corn or something like that. Then they were completely touched by the care and love that went into the presentation of the food in how it was packaged. I watched a woman cry, because she felt like she had been seen, like someone actually cared about her vs dumped the things they couldn’t use. Lisa is an amazing human being doing great mutual aid work. Yes those larger food shelf type places are needed, but there is room for all types of creativity and love in the work we do in community.
Naomi
I purposely had to share Naomi’s story because it countered the priveleged folks who chose to lead with a blind eye to the things that were happening around us. It countered folks who couldn’t talk to me about what was going on, none the less listen to me because they “had kids they were responsible for and if anything happened to them, what would their kids do.” Naomi cancelled the narrative that says you can’t get involved because you are too busy or involvement might hurt your family. Naomi is a full time career woman, who is married and is also a typical soccer mom. We met at Augustana and realized we were both pastor’s daughters and connected right away. She was the one who first got me active in local Portland protests. We became protest buddies, never going alone, always informing each other of new opportunities, and taking time for joy inbetween. Naomi joined the East Side PDX safety team with me. Besides learning that community and action cancels fear, I also learned from Naomi balance. Somedays the news was so overwhelming, I just felt like I couldn’t do enough to battle it all. But Naomi also showed me how to balance and say no to some things knowing this is a slow long distance race and there will always be other things I can say yes to. As for her kid, she has raised an intelligent, smart young daughter who has a voice of her own and we all know, its the youth who will really bring the change we need. Kudos to Naomi!
Carmen
At one time, Portland had a Black Community. It was descimated by flooding and regentrification. If you read history you will find there are “Katrina” stories like this one all over the U.S. This is Portland’s Katrina story. Carmen still lives in the neighborhood that at one time was a middle class Black neighborhood. She has many connections and knows who is who in the Black community. As a professor of Black History, an author and community elder, she knew the importance of bringing the Black community together in response to what was going on. A lot of us were involved in a local indivisible chapter, or protests, or other efforts in our neighborhood, but there was a need for a space for just Black folks to get together, talk about what was going on and at a minimum stay up to date on what was happening. Carmen also led us in actions affecting things that were happening locally like school board meetings and city council hearings. She connected us to local Black politicians teaching us how to be involved and show up, since those who show up write the story. And she connected us with old school local Black Panthers who shared stories of how the Black Panthers worked in the past, and made connections to what all of that meant for things happening now and into the future. We too practiced civil disobedience, in case we ever needed to show up for the real deal. We discussed the past movements with leaders and the trend of leaderless movements, the difference between moments and movements and what kind of a blend of all of these efforts would need. What a treat to be connected to history live! A shout out to Carmen who did something so revolutionary, having folks over for tea and snacks to talk about the community in her living room, and giving Black folks a space to feel safe and talk freely. Thank you Carmen.
Cat
Last but not really last because there are so many more. These are just the ten I kept up with. Cat became a writer later in life as she noticed she had not been taught all of history in school. But rather she had been taught one perspective of history and so many other perspectives had been stifled. Having a trans loved one in her life, who she still keeps the identity of safe. This relationship shaped a lot of who Cat is as an author. Her books bring to life the voices of marginalized people.
So of course her books are among the banned, so, she naturally spilled over into fighting the banned book movement and became the lead voice for Oregon’s Author’s Against Banned Books fight.
I hope that as you read this something strikes a note with you and lights a fire. My hope is that one of these stories will inspire you to use your gifts, if you are not already, to fight fascism.
Cat is just one more example of way you could get involved in whatever state you are in. She inspired me to buy banned books and put them in free book libraries, and give them to kids who might not have access in their schools anymore.
She also was the first person to better educate me on the experiences of our trans population. Thank goodness for people like Cat who are willing to put their time in for folks who are underrepresented, and literally terrified with the state of things in our country right now.
I am so grateful there are so many more people doing good things than people practicing evil selfish practices here in our country. I am so grateful I am here today and have the opportunity to stand up with these people. I am so grateful for all of you out there doing the things you are doing. Remember to share your stories with those around you so others might not feel so helpless and lost and can figure out how they might fit in, raise consciousness, improve things for all of us. Thank you for reading another blog by me.
Greetings to my tiny list of followers following my tiny adventures! Yes, life in the Airstream and all of its adventures didn’t stop when I left my Airstream. It just taught me to live life wherever you are.
In these times with our country heading towards facism, with an autocracy looming things have seemed quite depressing. In the last week I was hit with another round of the other thing that continues, COVID, and forced to slow down, be completely selfish and rejuvinate. And in looking back realized I still had some things to share here in this blog.
The onslaught of social media doom and gloom strolling, and the real doom and gloom looming above my head, had me thinking about my dual citizenship with Canada, again. But in all honesty, I’m a fighter, and I know that. So I’ve been taking the trailer lessons of knowing how to live life going with the flow, and uncertainty of the unkown, and have a plan A,B,C and sometimes D. So I’ve still have my Canada plans, along with some other countries it might be fun to just pick up and start over in. At the same time I live a parallell life, staying put, standing strong and fighting for Democracy.
The terror we have all felt thinking about what could happen and what is happening is real. I have found the best way to make it go away is to choose to face it and knock it out with action. Ironically there was a workshop in my neighborhood on safety at protests. I thought maybe I’d learn something. Little did I know they were actually recruiting for what we now call the East PDX Indivisible Safety Team. We scout out our area of protest ahead of time, noting, places to hide people, places to relocate people to, restrooms, driveways, bustops etc. And we communicate on walkies with practiced tools of de-escalation. We help folks do simple stuff like stay on sidewalks, providing simple medical help with folks who might get injured, bringing water etc. We keep an eye out for outside agitators, ICE and other unwanted guests. We all are trained in de-escalation skills. All the time we prepare for when it might get ugly and we will need to use strategic non-violent actions to make our point or civil disobedience that could land us in jail. I’m not sure how far I will go. I do know working with these folks, and the gratitude from the protestors who are not your average folks… or maybe I should say, they are your average folks…. folks in wheelchairs, elderly, young folks with kids in strollers, etc… has brought me a greater sense of community, a strength and courage to make me want to fight back more.
Li Li’s story.
I have also gotten involved with the local Black Community meeting privately at a local home working on local issues that primarily are of interest to us, while navigating how the bigger fight intertwines with our issues and how we can benefit each other. I’ve been honing my skills at testifying at city hall, speaking out at school board meetings, writing letters to the governor and other leaders. If you are feeling overwhelmed by it all I highly encourage you to find some small way to get involved in resisting. Taking action takes away fear and anxiety and helps me see all of the good out there and realize I am not alone.
I heard someone say, don’t get overwhelmed with the doom and gloom, pick one thing that you are passionate about fighting for and use your skills that bring you joy to fight that fight. It has been too hard for me to limit it to one thing. I actually wanted to do something for the environment, as I felt, without a planet, nothing else matters. But getting involved with environmental politics in a way that actually makes a difference can be a bit more challenging. I’m still working on that. I have an art project on the back burner as a way to raise funds for some of the organizations doing the good work there.
ICE going after immigrants, or should I say kidnappers going after anyone black or brown hit home personally since a lot of my immigrant friends were living in fear, and to be honest, ICE seems interested in basically anyone black or brown, so that would include me too, and I don’t think I have the resources or connections to get myself out of a camp somewhere in the world. Plus, I’m just not the kind of person that can sit and watch injustice being done and not say a peep. A local church, Augustana Lutheran, was doing some real work, some brave work, on what nonviolent strategic action is, as well as designating their church as a true sanctuary. They started with a kickoff inviting surrounding churches to join them in their efforts, giving credit to the Black Church and all of the work done before in the Civil Rights Movement that they were modeling their work after. That has been fullfilling and interesting work to be a part of.
White Oak Dancing’s story.
I supported my friend who is an author with the work she is doing fighting book bans here in Oregon and across the country. She also introduced me to work standing up for the Trans community with Oregon’s Equal Rights Ammendment. If you are an Oregonian reading this and haven’t signed the petition to get this on the ballot, please do. Its important we strengthen ourselves at the state level since at the national level, so much has been weakened.
I offered my professional skills free of charge helping strengthen my local entertainment industry union to be a stronger union with trainings and consulting on what it means to be a union, and I’m helping them see where they fit in to the larger fight. If fascism wins we won’t have unions.
I’ve joined the Oregon campaign for Health Care For All Oregon, seeing as I’ll be losing my access to affordable Health Insurance come January and watching a friend who when midterms come around and she loses her medicaide, because of her severe diabetes, she will literally die within a week without any alternatives. I had some experience helping on those initiatives in California so started exploring how I might help here. If you are in Oregon and interested in helping check out their website and take the Health Care 101 class.
I continue to read books to educate myself, go to protests, better understand how all of the issues are intertwined, and speak out and use my voice while I still can.
In doing all of this, I’ve met amazing people along the way. I realized I have lived with a lot of privilege in this country, not having to be involved in holding politicians accountable, just living life free of worry. In other words, I’ve been able to maneuver life without being accountable for being a citizen and all that is required of a citizen in a democratic society. I can also see how vulnerable our system is, and see how full of dysfunction it is. Something major has to change. Its not just what we are against that matters. More importantly it is what we are for. Because if we get rid of what we are against we leave a big hole. And the hole will be filled with whatever is out there. So we all need to be having serious conversations about what we think it should be filled with collectively. We need to find out what we are collectively for.
June’s story.
I found myself in a place where I was frustrated with the folks who seemed to not be doing anything, the folks who never spoke up about what was going on. Seeing their radio silence made me wonder, would they be there for me if I needed them? I knew doing something was easy. There are so many ways to stand up. I couldn’t understand why at the smallest level, they wouldn’t even talk about what was happening. There are so many ways to resist that take zero risk. It might be as small as letting your friends know in private conversations that you are not in agreement with what is going on. That is a start. So when people gave me the old “I can’t get involved in politics, because ….blah blah blah” excuse, it made my blood boil. It is was it is and I had to let go of expecting anything different from those folks. I had to be thankful for the new friends I was making who I knew would be in community with me and show up to fight by my side, and I had to think about what I could do, how I might have influence. Judging the radio silent was a waste of energy. I can be grateful for the positive things those people have brought to my life and acknowledge to myself at the same time they may not be the safest people for me to depend on. I wondered if this is how folks felt in Nazi Germany as things started changing or in other parts of our world history.
At the same time, there were so many people I was meeting doing so much good work. I decided I wanted to focus on and document these folks. So…. I started a second art project that I’m calling “We The People, Tiny Stories of Resistance”. I am painting small portraits and telling the stories of the ordinary people I am meeting along the way doing tiny acts of resistance. My hope is to paint 100 portraits that I will be showing in shows in very public places for the next year. I want folks to see it and realize they are not alone. I want them to realize there are a multitude of ways to get involved in resistance. Parents can partner with other parents, sharing child care duties freeing each other up to participate in the protests and local Indivisible Group actions. Folks can petition Lawmakers. They can donate to the ACLU or other organizations doing good work. They can make art. They can simply speak up and say what is happening is wrong. My second hope is that by having my art shown in major arts organizations and businesses around town I will be putting pressure on those pillars to have the guts to show my art even when they get push back from their patrons, who may see no problem with what is happening. My hope is my art will connect people, not just with the community but also in honoring our ancestors by doing something, learning from what worked in the past and using those tools. Its not about us individually but rather the story we all weave, those here now and those who came before.
Currently Reading for fun.We Continue Resisting In Portland!Check out Equitable Giving Circle on Instagram.
Of course tiny living taught me to live a life of balance and keep joy in it too. It taught me the importance of balance. For me a good fiction book is a real treat. I’m adding a book recommendation…. “Grandmother Begins The Story”, a captivating debut by Michelle Porter. She uses her Metis culture’s storytelling traditions in an incredibly imaginative way, to tell the stories past and present of five generations of family, with focus on poetry and music. Ms Porter’s book speaks to the connections we have past, present and future, and how it is never about the individual.
If you know folks you think I should include in my exhibit, please reach out. I need at least a half an hour with them, as well as some good photos to work from. Here is how it works…. “We The People” exhibit! tiny acts of Resistance from Ordinary People.
If you choose to give a donation to help me capture my goal of 100 portraits for my exhibit, a donation of $100 or more will allow me to paint another person who inspires me in their activism. At that amount, your portrait will be yours at the end of my year of shows. (a painting that normally would cost you $600, as I currently get $2.50 a square in for my work.)
If you don’t want your portrait but want to donate, every dollar helps make this happen and is greatly appreciated!
Any extra money at the end of the show will go to help the legal costs of immigrant families, and local work done on behalf of local indivisible groups, and a local mutual aid group- Equitable Giving Circle.
Black Future Farms, Portland Oregon is one of the Black owned farms supplying fresh food to Equitable Giving Circle
If you know of an ordinary person doing good work to resist, I’m especially looking for a diversity of action to inspire those looking at my show who may feel hopeless or not know how they can participate.
I currently have three shows set up, one in downtown Portland, one in the Central East Side and one back in Troutdale at very public spaces as a way to push back on the business pillars and arts pillars in our community to take a stand for democracy. I also have a few of my ussual coffee shops and tea houses I’d like to show at. If you have ideas of other places I should reach out and book my show locally, let me know.
Portland Labor Day Protests 2025
Feel free to comment how you are resisting to give others ideas. There is no right or wrong way, and no action is too small. And I highly recommend taking selfish time to refill, rejuvinate, tune out the doomsday scrolling, find joy and read a good book inbetween your actions. If you have any fun fiction book recommendations or more serious readng for the cause, feel free to comment on that too.
Love you all for your continued follow and support!
Trevor Noah was saying you don’t often get to choose when you want to end something or start something new. He explains the restaurant tells you they are closing,and you can’t choose when you die. Do we really learn how to deal with endings and transitions? I often think I have a transition plan for the next stage of my life, but do I? Most times when I follow a new path I’m thinking this is what I’ll do for the rest of my life, and then the universe laughs at me.
“A Girl and Her Dog” an earlier piece of mine.
So I sit here reflecting on my life change choices. How much was choice? Or was each change just inevitable. Since I really see myself in transition, what choice do I have now going forward? I think when it comes to choice there is not really a right or wrong choice, just a choice. And one can always make a different choice in the next moment. I noticed we all go really hard on ourselves when we have choices to make. And with what is going on in our country and the world we definitely have a lot of choices to make each day.
I celebrate this little guy everyday, not knowing when our goodbyes wil show up.
In my journey, hitting the road saved me from toxic stress that was wearing on my health. I have found joy everywhere I have lived, yet California I found to be the most wearing place I have experienced. I could have still been there. A highly intense job, the fires, the distance from loved ones, all would have shaped my choices there if I had stayed.
Jumping ahead, my choice to leave trailer life on the road and eventually all together by selling the trailer was a choice I made over a couple of years, as information kept revealing itself to me. Trailer life is way more than instagram photos or you tube videos. I entered it having no idea what it was, and zero expectations. I only hoped to simplify life and gain focus on where I was going next, which I accomplished. I thought I would do it longer than I did, but having accomplished what I wanted it was time for change again. The reality that trailers are not made of very durable materials, not really made to live in full time (even though lots of people do) and are made for the true DIY soul, all made it easier for me to let go of the life. DIY was not really my thing. Plus I missed the city. I am a true city/country girl. I have to have both in my life and trailer life that was affordable typically meant being far away from grocery stores and hospitals.
One thing I did know was I loved having a smaller environmental impact on the planet and I loved pulling my focus from material things making me happy, to enjoying quality time, quality moments and having experiences with other humans. I have also have been thrilled to have the priviledge to make and actually sell my art!
Trailer life can also be very physical and some folks stay very fit late into life, but I was already feeling the strains of the physical part of trailer life. Aging and my plans for life as an older soul definitely are on my mind as more and more people I love pass out of this world and into the next.
One of my new sources for community. Art Design Exchange, a collective of over 90 creatives connecting with the neighorhood in Central East Portland.
Lastly I loved having community, which trailer life is all about. I’d give that life high scores on community. Its one place where people with very differing backgrounds are thrown together and you have to figure out how to make it work, how to help each other, how to be there for your neighbor, in spite of differences.
Eventually, as you know, the choice to transition into an apartment was the next logical step. I spent a lot of time looking at places only to have them snatched out from under me because someone was in line in front of me, or have them not meet their online photo images to say it politely, or to find they were way over priced for anything I could afford. Sharing a single home was one way to have a smaller footprint until I could transition in an apartment. My friend who shared her house had the means to share and likes helping with the housing issues in the city, or should I say lack of enough housing.
Moving into an apartment I noticed a mindset that is embedded in our culture that I felt I needed to change in myself. I thought I had started that change when I said yes to living with a friend but in reality, I started it when I sold my California house and jumped in a trailer fulltime. The idea that owning a big house by myself is the goal, or shows that I have made it at last, is kind of foolish, and not very good for our planet. In some ways apartment living seemed like going backwards. Wouldn’t folks want to own their own place? I did and still might. However, when crunching the numbers and figuring out the all of the variables, each way of living costs money and has its pros and cons. Some ways have living have a harsher effect on our home, planet earth.
My little apartment view of the sky and treetops through small things connected to memories brings me joy.
Thinking of apartment living as a choice, as a way to help the environment, and not buying into the “made it” mentality, was a mindset adjustment. It made me wonder about other parts of the world. Do other parts of the world have whole neighborhoods made up of single family homes where one or two people live in isolation in their home and try to maintain it financially and physically? Or are there more societies that are about communal living and working together, sharing resources, bartering our gifts and living smaller so that everyone has a place and we hopefully take better care of our planet? For now my apartment feels like home. Plus I found even now I’m still learning what I like and don’t like in a physical space, if I were to buy a place. I do love that I can hop on a bus at my front door and go to the front door of just about all of the places I frequent. Shout out to Portland for the best transit system I have seen anywhere! And I still am able to find community here.
Portlanders and visitors to Portland: come on out and visit our market on Saturdays this summer.
Currently I find myself struggling like Frida and Diego. Do I make art for arts sake, or buy into the capitalist journey of an artist? Galleries take half of your money if you are lucky to be connected and to actually get representation in one. The tax system is stacked against an artist, as it is with anyone who is not incredibly rich, and who does not have ways to avoid taxes. And art from the soul and the heart isn’t always what folks want to purchase for their living room walls, yet there are huge costs to making art people will buy and showing your art. I’ll be venturing deeper into the world of collectives and pop ups this summer.
This year I am focused on a series that speaks to where we are with environmental issues in hopes to have a show early next year where all of the profits skip me completely and go directly to some of my favorite environmental organizations. I will definitely invite other artists to join me. Stay tuned if you live in Portland or nearby.
A Sneak peak at my future show.Another peak at works in progress.
In the meantime I keep looking at real estate options from my agent here and my agent in Minneapolis, leaving both options open for my next landing space. I will need a little more space to have my in home studio, and how I hustle with my art would be very different in the two cities. Both cities are very artist centered. There’s more of a pop up and collective focus here in Portland unless you are connected to the old school curators who will represent you in a gallery. Minneapolis has a lot of grant work, and mural work, as well as live work artist community spaces. Either way, I will find a way to keep creating as it feeds my soul as one way to resist all of the roadblocks that our current Oligarchs are putting up in front of us.
Trevor is right in that when you do get to choose an ending, it is that much sweeter because you get to let those around you know how much your time together meant to you, and share where you are going next. Some of them may stay with you on your ride. Feeling in transition right now both personally and in our country, I am staying open to opertunities where I am a part of choosing endings and new beginnings. I’m staying as honest with myself as I can be as to where we are, how I can make the most of my life each day, and how I can use my voice and art for change. I want you all to know I’ve appreciated you as witnesses to my journey.
A favorite photo of my dad and mom in Europe, long before they knew I would be a choice in their lives.
I dedicate this post to my dad. I guess there isn’t an option for our parents to be with us forever. Love you dad! This is the three year anniversary of saying goodbye to my dad. I miss him everyday. I think I’ll take a boat ride on the Columbia to celebrate memories of boating with him as a kid. And I’ll continue my journey courageously, not fearing changes, choices and goodbeyes.
Thank you, any of you out there, still following my ramblings. ; )
