Seattle Summer Solstice!

Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013

Look, there was a parade here!

That, and so much more within the highly overlooked Fremont district; home to a bridge troll, giant stone Lenin, long walks, desserts and happy people.Also, the place for the great Fremont Summer Solstice Fair of 2013.

Among thousands of happy people in attendance was big live music, an auto show, a nude bike ride, food carts, art galleries, random dancing, tents full of stuff for sale. Between all, was a sunny, glorious day with an epic supermoon on the way.

I missed a lot of this, but not the nude bike ride. That will get its own entry soon. I was here for the parade. I love a parade, especially one like this..

This happening was amazing for its content and local feel. Sights and sounds turned special from all by the present area folk; nothing corporate or crying out for name recognition. Much was homegrown and very creative, with silliness attached (also, some environmental awareness mixed in).  From that, we had monsters and knights, sea beasts and jellywomen, pharaohs and hippies, puppets and propellers, disco and drums, jungle and jazz. 

I’m out of words, let the pictures say the rest..

Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013 Fremont Summer Solstice Parade 2013

Dancing in the Library


The week ago, still echoes in my mind.

There was this dance within the downtown Central Seattle Library. All very unexpected, as I was there on other errands. Yet, I overheard some instrumental, relaxing musical tones in the distance. I realized something was amiss, and looked over the 5th floor overhang to the 3rd. My curiosity was rewarded..

Seattle Central Public Library

I went for a closer look..


I missed most of the previous act. And, another one began..up to the 5th floor, where everyone would follow. The music continued but fading for the next act.


Soon, an interesting woman would meet an interesting man (music becomes a bit more modern synth)..

photo (7)

Together, they do as many interesting people often do…

Seattle Central Public Library

They danced..

Seattle Central Public Library

and danced..


There was more dancing, of which I missed. Still, the caught moments were exciting, and worth the pause from my errands.

This performance act was part of the “Dancing About Architecture” series, presented by the Seattle Central Library featuring the Sapience Dance Collective. For more on the Sapience Dance Collective, click here. And, the Seattle Central Library is awesome and worthwhile for a visit., so click here for more on there.

Halo over Seattle

Halo over he Space Needle

Tis a lovely weekend, here in Seattle.

However, I missed the rare ice “halo” optical effect over the sky yesterday. I saw few similar moon halos in my lifetime, but nothing from captured like this. The funny thing, is me everywhere outside on errands, visiting peeps, going to shops, typing, more coffee. If I looked up at that time, I would have probably caught this.

So why not? I look up and and around much in this wonderful city. It’s become my new favorite time passer.

But most of yesterday, was a dreary sky void of color. The landscapes were dull, the grass robbed of green, the buildings lost their reflections. The waters of Elliot Bay were still, boring. The weather was humid, and warm. Some would say nice being how cold Seattle for much of the year. I was thinking, meh. I thought the day was nothing special.

But, I was wrong. Every day is special, some just fail to see why.

NOTE: the picture was from a Seattle reddit post, with the origin on Imgur with no credits, not sure on the source. I will update if further info is found. 

Days ago, at the Punk Rock Flea Market..

cellphone pic by Orion Tippens

Last weekend, I happened upon an old favorite Seattle happening..

The Punk Rock Flea Market.

The Punk Rock Flea Market is like a regular flea market, but with a small gathering of community sellers, mostly driven by a fondness for loud, non-pop rock music, often containing rebellious overtones. This happening is currently held twice a year, and offers a unique experience for those who enjoy second-hand findings and DIY creations. The entrance fee was a mere dollar and goes to assist in low-income housing for those in need.

I was excited for this community sale. I love thrift stores and flea markets where off findings can have its own interesting stories. Also, I love buying cheap, old things. I can’t resist, especially if some style is involved in the setting.

How does one outsider define this particular punk rock community without being too actively being engaged? I am somewhat familiar with the punk lifestyle, through a long association with good friends of many years and far away in Southern California (I miss them). So without coming off as some kind of poseur, I will leave much behind with some gained knowledge intact, and dive in.

How does this Punk Rock Flea Market differ from a regular flea market?

I think it’s the self-starting independent vibe and community foundation that carries on the punk lifestyle. Also we have visuals, with colorful urban art on the walls, probably from something else unrelated (not very punk stereotype, but I think contributes to the creative vibe of punk culture). On the tables, we have handmade art, home cooked food, nostalgia tributes including Ghostbusters II trading card waxpacks, horror movie posters, buttons/shirts rooting back to the Ramones, Sex Pistols, Misfits and other icons of punk history. Sadly lacking but worthwhile in finding, were the limited presence of music records, VHS tapes, well-read literature. To sift through everything in finding special treasure, has its own excitement.

More importantly, all attendees are welcome and felt welcome. People of all kinds, ages, styles were seen, greeted with smiles and kindness from the tattooed, pierced punkish propagators. The sellers were pretty much all friendly, welcoming people who appear engaged in the punk lifestyle with their colorful hair, ripped stockings, button covered leather. The place was small, with a small outstretch to a back parking lot. Many were sitting, chatting, drinking…having fun.

Meanwhile, I engaged in short silly conversations with some sellers and attendees, relating to stuff for sale and sold; mostly of personal interest involving classic horror and obscure literature, and classic magazines. I peeked through with awe at a stack of old Judge Dredd comics on flimsy, torn newsprint from the UK. The lengthier of conversations happened with a present street artist concerning the recent Black Sabbath reunion, and the emergence of sci-fi icons in DIY pop-art. I enjoyed these common grounds with strangers, where we geeks of special sorts can sniff each other out.

For me, I purchased a paperback on African theater plays of the 70s, and a tasty brownie from a small child present. Next Punk Rock Flea Market, I will carry more cash. But more important, there was a kind of moral to this tale of flea marketing and punks. That, in venturing through odd territory, even for an hour, could reinvent the familiar and make life a little more fun.

More on the Seattle Punk Rock Flea Market, can be found here

Sadness upon the writer’s soul

LEO 1922b

Yes, it’s been a while..and I am back. YES!!

Last month, was a time of great transitions through rapid change. These happenings include a new job (clerking and stuff at a law firm), losing that job (massive sudden layoffs). Also, I held on to that other nightly part-time job at a local hostel, and ended that. From there, moving into a new apartment, for now. For the present moment, I have no job and more time. The writing streak must and will come back.

Meanwhile, I learned a few things that changed my outlook on life. I share them below.

First, coffee is a terrible addiction. Not so much the act of drinking  any caffeinated coffee, but the availability of gourmet and special blended coffee in Seattle. This lead me to drink in excess. Is there a name for this? Coffeeholic?

I consumed an average of five daily cups of specials, usually bearing a geographic origin, and method of creation. Example fav flavors I enjoyed included the Organic Maui Blend, Premium French Roast, Ethiopia Sun-Dried Yirgacheffe, Locations were often independent coffeehouses, and certain Starbucks bearing the rare Clover brands.  I craved the variety, with the desire to have something special inside, every busy day. The flavor and textures were nice, and I felt a satisfaction, of that special brew or blend.

And so, my preferences grew. I drank in the morning, during work, and after work I stopped before the sunset, so I could sleep later on. Coffee became my new candy. I craved and consumed constantly. I needed that caffeinated rush to survive my 12+ hour work days and to keep smiling. For the days that were less, I needed more done. So in that, I needed more coffee. If there was no time for coffee, i felt there was no time for work. I might be late.

More on this coffee consumption later. Next…

I have a new-found love for audio podcasts. Much of my new job was very repetitive, with lots in sorting, stamping, filing happening. Thankfully. I was allowed my musical imports through my headphones.The work was also a bit lonely at times. Music wasn’t enough, though welcome at times. So, I needed friends that could talk, but didn’t necessarily have to be there. So, through peer suggestions and exploring the iTunes catalog, I made some awesome discoveries.

Recent favorites of mine include NPR’s This American Life and Fresh Air, Junk Food Dinner, The Nerdist, Clarksworld Magazine, Art of Manliness, StarTalk Radio with Neil deGrasse Tyson, BBC 4, BBC Documentaries, and more. The countless hours of short stories, news commentaries, interviews, worldly views, local opinions, and reviews of the old and new..all as important to me as coffee.

In time, I must write and share more delving into the exciting sub-culture of coffee and podcasts. Now, I must share the most important of revelations.

This, refers to the title. Me and sadness, after writing often in the early spring and coming to a complete standstill. I didn’t have time to blog, to write, to share. In the last weeks, my focus on job work, job hunting, hustling for money, finding a new place. Sadly, no time for writing.

Yet, I could sleep, drink coffee and beer. I conversed with people, many random. I sat on the grass, ate tacos and gazed at the passing ferries of Elliot Bay. I did everything except for write. Why not? The time did come back after I lost my job.

I was frustrated, distracted with a mundane schedule. I remained busy, figuring out the summer and future beyond. There were nights, I would come back to this blog, or held my notepad with my lazy pen sliding down a blank page. I wanted to write, but drew a blank.  At a few times, I managed to give a few brief, sort of apologetic posts (see last few entries). It was all wrong for me, now I think.

It so happened, I needed help. So, I looked to a great inspirations in life; Ray Bradbury, celebrated writer of hundreds of books and short stories. His most well-known works are Fahrenheit 451Martian Chronicles, and The Illustrated Man. Personally, I more enjoy his short stories. For now, I stumbled upon my copy of his more autobiographical book of inspirational musings on our favorite craft: Zen in the Art of Writing: Releasing the Creative Genius Within You.

Here, is a certain truth he reveals early on in that book:

” Not to write, for many of us, is to die.

We must take arms each and every day, perhaps knowing that the battle cannot be won, but fight we must, if only a gentle bout. The smallest effort to win means, at the end of each day, a sort of victory. Remember that pianist who said that if he did not practice every day he would know, if he did not practice for two days, the critics would know, after three days, the audiences would know.

A variation of this is true for writers. Not that your style, whatever that is, would melt out of shape in those few days.

But what would happen is that the world would catch with and try to sicken you. If you did not write every day, the poisons would accumulate and you would begin to die, or act crazy, or both.”

Ray summed up how I felt, something I had trouble sharing with other humans in personal conversation. I died a lot in the past weeks, with no blogging, no scribbling of words on paper, even Facebook was cut drastically down. I just worked, and lived without really living. Ray Bardbury gives much great advice on coping and dealing with art abandonment, through many short stories and metaphors. Rather than quote him again, I will share my own metaphor..

For me, the lack of writing was myself crossing through some desert, with no water. I became thirsty. Yet, the sustenance was not available. Or was it? This water was there. I just needed to stop and take a sip, not necessarily a drink. So, I got up this day and decided to take that sip. The sip, became a long drink.


That felt good. I wrote a bunch of other things, not yet published. I will drink more. In reality, I may cut back on the coffee. Podcast listening will continue on, perhaps in my long walks. If you see me with my headphones, laughing..ask me what I am listening to. It might be for you.

My next post, I think will about a flea market and punk music. Til next time..

Enjoy the day..


I am back, and in the mood to write. This, after working a few double work weeks. Hooray, free time!

Now, I need to also go out and enjoy this beautiful Saturday. So, I will head out now soon with my notebook and pen. I have thoughts to express on the last couple weeks, and stuff about life. Much of this will be shared.