Due to the lovely weather on Saturday Priscilla and I were able to finish our tree house. It is not much of a tree house, more of a raised platform of old wood with a slanted roof and some slots and shelves. All of the sides but one are open to the air and we have procured some transparent tarp for rain days. To consecrate our new artist space i.e. secret hideout I got an old china tea set from goodwill and we had a tea party with a thermos of hot water and some shortbread cookies. I allowed Anabel who came with us some tuna. Scott insisted on pouring brandy in his tea.
On Tuesday I will make good use of the tea set again because we have a tea planned with Garrett. Garrett is a man who lives in a tent shelter not far from our hideout. He has his lean-to fairly near to the path that has been worn through the bushes. Most days he sits out front of the tent on a log reading old paperbacks so we got to know him on our treks through the brush and he became curious about the scraps of boards that we were carting by. Garrett is about 50 (maybe) and actively chose to go live in the in between space to "get away from it" as he says.
Showing posts with label Seattle Parks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seattle Parks. Show all posts
22 May 2011
02 May 2011
Green Space: liminal in the city limits
Despite the fact that it is 47 degrees and cloudy today, I started a spring building project. An outdoor spring building project. Some of you may be wrinkling your brows in confusion. Yes, I still do live in the upstairs portion of an apartment complex with no yard or garage. I am also singularly inept when it comes to building and tools in general.
This morning, however, saw me wielding a power drill and hammer that I borrowed from Priscilla. (I also borrowed Priscilla to help me with the building project).If you were not the all omniscient aforementioned morning you might have been hard-pressed to actually SEE me.
Lately I have taken to exploring the green spaces within the city of Seattle and it is in one of these spaces that I have decided to build a tree house. It is (or will be) a fairly low to the ground tree house. It will mainly consist of a low platform and some shelves and it is where we plan to write (me) and paint (Priscilla). (It may also include general loafing around punctuated by drinking and smoking on the part of Priscilla's boyfriend).
We found the prefect spot last Saturday by following the trails worn through the city greenspaces. I think the trails are made by homeless and transient people who sometimes set up tents and blankets in the underbrush.
I really like these spaces and the idea of people living here because despite being in the center of the city these spaces, like freeway underpasses and sides of railway tracks, are somehow liminal to the bulk of city life.
We live so much of our lives next to these spaces. Driving over and by. Houses, playgrounds and shops just a few blocks away. And yet for most of us these spaces don't exist. They are in-between spaces existing within but not as part of the cityscape.
The people who inhabit these spaces are also liminal, living in but not as a part of normal city life.
So, Pricilla and I have decided to base our creative space in the in-between space. Also, I have always wanted a secret tree fort since I was a little girl.
If you had thought I was going to disclose the location of our hideaway you were mistaken. It is somewhere Other and close by. It will suffice to say it is well hidden in the branches and far away from the trail and clandestine tent encampments. After all we are the strangers in this neighborhood.
This morning, however, saw me wielding a power drill and hammer that I borrowed from Priscilla. (I also borrowed Priscilla to help me with the building project).If you were not the all omniscient aforementioned morning you might have been hard-pressed to actually SEE me.
Lately I have taken to exploring the green spaces within the city of Seattle and it is in one of these spaces that I have decided to build a tree house. It is (or will be) a fairly low to the ground tree house. It will mainly consist of a low platform and some shelves and it is where we plan to write (me) and paint (Priscilla). (It may also include general loafing around punctuated by drinking and smoking on the part of Priscilla's boyfriend).
We found the prefect spot last Saturday by following the trails worn through the city greenspaces. I think the trails are made by homeless and transient people who sometimes set up tents and blankets in the underbrush.
I really like these spaces and the idea of people living here because despite being in the center of the city these spaces, like freeway underpasses and sides of railway tracks, are somehow liminal to the bulk of city life.
We live so much of our lives next to these spaces. Driving over and by. Houses, playgrounds and shops just a few blocks away. And yet for most of us these spaces don't exist. They are in-between spaces existing within but not as part of the cityscape.
The people who inhabit these spaces are also liminal, living in but not as a part of normal city life.
So, Pricilla and I have decided to base our creative space in the in-between space. Also, I have always wanted a secret tree fort since I was a little girl.
If you had thought I was going to disclose the location of our hideaway you were mistaken. It is somewhere Other and close by. It will suffice to say it is well hidden in the branches and far away from the trail and clandestine tent encampments. After all we are the strangers in this neighborhood.
22 April 2010
Discovery
I was walking in the park on the wooded paths on one of those very blue days last week. Way out past the abandoned restrooms, locked and overgrown. On to one of the lesser used trails not teeming with runners and dog walkers, quiet, just trees, birds, and an occasional unseen rustling in the undergrowth.
At first I thought it was a statue, obscured by branches in a small ravine. Large and craggy in the form a rhinoceros. Then a gust of wind rippled the leaves and one of of the eyes blinked, slowly turned to look at me and, unimpressed, back to the foliage at hand.
Rhinoceros!
I had thought I was alone on the trail but as I looked around in shock I saw a blue tarp and an old man just a few feet away off of the trail. He was sitting on a log and almost blended in to the woods in his tattered brown jacket and greenish-gray trousers. He was what one might classify as a "bum". Two brown beady eyes looked at me from under a squishy battered hat. He winked, almost imperceptibly and then turned and disappeared behind the tarp, somewhere into the woods.
The rhinoceros paid me no more heed and I skittered back into the sunlit clearing and back to the populated trails, to the happy dogs, the joggers intent on their cardiovascular rhythms, measured pace.
At first I thought it was a statue, obscured by branches in a small ravine. Large and craggy in the form a rhinoceros. Then a gust of wind rippled the leaves and one of of the eyes blinked, slowly turned to look at me and, unimpressed, back to the foliage at hand.
Rhinoceros!
I had thought I was alone on the trail but as I looked around in shock I saw a blue tarp and an old man just a few feet away off of the trail. He was sitting on a log and almost blended in to the woods in his tattered brown jacket and greenish-gray trousers. He was what one might classify as a "bum". Two brown beady eyes looked at me from under a squishy battered hat. He winked, almost imperceptibly and then turned and disappeared behind the tarp, somewhere into the woods.
The rhinoceros paid me no more heed and I skittered back into the sunlit clearing and back to the populated trails, to the happy dogs, the joggers intent on their cardiovascular rhythms, measured pace.
12 February 2010
In which city budget cuts lead to my arrest.
Well, ok, I didn't actually get arrested. Just a strong reprimand from an SPD officer who told me in no uncertain terms that I could get arrested for public indecency if I urinated in the wooded area of the park again.
Why was I peeing, discretely, or so I thought, in Golden Gardens park? Not because the name suggested such an act was permissible. Rather, I found myself for the second time this week in a Seattle park on the day that it happened to be closed for furlough i.e. not staffed, i.e. locked bathrooms.
On Monday I held it, today I could not.
Why was I peeing, discretely, or so I thought, in Golden Gardens park? Not because the name suggested such an act was permissible. Rather, I found myself for the second time this week in a Seattle park on the day that it happened to be closed for furlough i.e. not staffed, i.e. locked bathrooms.
On Monday I held it, today I could not.
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