20
Dec 09And It Stoned Me (part 2)
Chicago, IL: I slept. It was about 8:30am when I woke up on Saturday. I listened to Portland for a few minutes as it did the same. I watched the sun paint itself onto everything. It was a different day in a different place, but it started like they all do. It made me want to earn it and I already felt behind. I don’t think I’ll ever catch up, but that won’t stop me from trying. I got myself together then headed out.
I stopped for some tea at the first coffee shop I saw that didn’t look like a bar. For some reason a lot of them do. I read from Kapuściński’s Imperium and wrote in my notebook before leaving. I wanted to get to the big hill I’d spotted the day before. There were some things I hoped to see, on it and from it.
As I started up it, I realized I was entering Washington Park. Washington Park is a public park with many acres of forest and trails. It wraps some of the cities attractions. I guess I got there at a good time. I saw the sun screaming through the trees. It was beyond visual. It turned down the volume on everything else. It was deafening. Silence itself is something I run from. The things that silence are what I chase. And there we were, face to face. I moved slowly and took pictures.
I kept moving up, and stumbled across the Oregon Holocaust Memorial. How stark and grim. How beautiful and sobering. I just stood there for awhile before I could bring myself to lift the camera. The centerpiece of the memorial reads:
Beneath this rock are interred soil and ash from the six killing-center camps of the holocaust: Chelmno, Treblinka, Sobibor, Belzec, Majdanek and Auschwitz-Birkenau.
All around the memorial are sculptures of personal objects, lying on the ground as though left behind. I walked past a violin, a teddy bear, a baby doll. Wherever I stepped, I was literally stepping in all that pain and suffering. I really don’t know what else to say about it. It’s intense. It’s a reminder. It’s history. It’s awful. It won’t wash away and I’m glad I saw it.
I kept moving up, and found the International Rose Test Garden. The garden houses over 7,000 rose plants. They’re sent from all over the world. It was founded in 1917 and served as a safe haven for roses grown in Europe during World War I. Hybridists sent roses from around the world to protect them from the bombing. If you can’t see the irony in men killing men while protecting the flowers from each other, you don’t have a pulse.
As I walked through the garden I saw a man and woman sitting on a bench. They were surrounded by large trees, sunlight and roses. They looked like they were the only 2 people on the planet. I got the impression that, in their minds, at that moment, they were. I still can’t decide if it looked more like the beginning or the end of the world. I guess it kind of looked like both.
I saw a different couple lying on the ground, looking out at the trees. They were sharing a joint. They seemed to be making plans, high and happy. I saw a man far from any trail I could see. He wandered into the dense forest. He didn’t seem like he wanted to be seen. I saw a stunning view of the Cascades. I saw Mount Hood. That was one of my goals for the morning. Next time I plan to walk all over that volcano. I never did see the man come back out of the forest.
I wanted to keep moving up, but I decided instead to head back toward the city. It was already afternoon and I had a feeling the silence might catch up with me. I stopped at a couple record stores along the way. I’ve been looking for a particular Ronnie Lane album that seems to have disappeared from space and time. I didn’t find it. I will one day. I’ll walk past many more record stores before I’m through here.
I stopped for a veggie sandwich at a café downtown. I wanted to be alone with my own thoughts, a book and a notebook. No such luck. The guy working there was dead set on talking to anything in front of him, interested or not, breathing or not. I listened politely and nodded my head, inserting my bits of horribly flawed wisdom into the few pauses. He seemed like a nice enough guy and I didn’t want to be rude. As I struggled through my escape route, he said something that made the verbal assault worthwhile. He said something that I’ll never forget. He asked me how he could lose. He asked me how he could lose when he’d already won. He said he’d already won 28 years ago. I assume he was 28 years old. That will stick with me.
I went back to Stumptown for a cup of coffee and the noisy solitude I was looking for. I sat by a window looking out on the street. I looked through some of my pictures from Washington Park. I read from my books and wrote in my notebook. I had a great cup of coffee as I watched the people walk by. A man walked by wearing a heavy glove and a Santa-suited cat on his shoulder. The world keeps getting smaller.
I left Stumptown and walked past Satyricon, the small club where Eyehategod would be playing later that night. I was considering going and wanted to get my bearings. Eyehategod is an infamous New Orleans sludge metal band. I grew up very heavily into the music of New Orleans, and Eyehategod were definitely a big part of my diet. There’s something very dangerous about them. Whatever it is, they’re covered in it. They’re covered in it before the music ever starts. And when it finally does, they cover you in it. If there’s a sketchy part of town, which of course there always is, they’ll find it and play there.
The closer I got to Satyricon, the more the city’s shine seemed to fade. There was a sequence to it, a progression, an increased grittiness. By the time I walked past the club, the people’s eyes had become very harsh. I saw 2 men talking and surveying me over their shoulders. They moved apart. One of them looked at my camera, then back at me. I probably should have put it away earlier. His eyes were wide and wild. He asked if I was “some sort of photographer or something.” He said it in a way that was more parts confrontation than question. I told him I wasn’t really. At about the same time, the other man caught my attention. I guess I caught his too. He was pissing on the sidewalk and staring at me. I kept walking.
I’m not sure if I was bored with the beauty from earlier, but it was then that I decided to go to the Eyehategod show.