This Dark Cloak.........

Like a mist or fog that slowly arrives overnight, my depression would sneak in and "cloak" my thoughts and general life,
I thought to write this after seeing a FB post by a mutual friend about people known or close who had been dealing with the same issue.
Though the trauma and drama of my move away from my island life of 21 years in Maui could be seen as the start of my struggles, the reality was, once I gave it some disengaged thought, was that it all started to accumulate 6 years or so ago. The economy started to collapsed due to the mortgage and bank crisis. This soon trickled down to the "snow birds" and visiting tourists to Hawaii that USED to be relied on to provide a boost after the "Holiday" seasons. They simply were not coming in any more or, if they did, were holding onto their funds and NOT adding to their "arts" collection.
No need, really, to delve into or further explain the finances "dance" of living in a location that survives on the tourist dollar. It is all a fragile game that, when the balance tilts, can become a losing one.
Mix that in with personal struggles in trying to keep a dog healthy and happy AND keep a self employed business rolling AND keep a relationship partner "calm" made for a spiral of intrigue and exhaustion and struggle that, before I realized it, spun me down into a negative "vision."
Moving to the mainland after 21 years in Hawaii seemed like a great way to escape the struggles of keeping a business a float in tough times, but it soon proved to be more of a battle than I knew how to handle. Moving--and with an epileptic 12 year old, dearly beloved dog---AND starting  to work for someone for the first time in over 30 years---AND dealing with cold weather and an odd living arrangement for the first 3 months, set up a slide down the "slippery slope."Without my realizing what had happened, I soon found myself living in a strange town, in a new rented house, in the cold and rainy winter, without a companion/dog (who had died) and working for a family owned (neurotic!!) business that treated me poorly. Yeah----things got "dark."
I felt I could roll along and deal with it all but soon realized that my usual "disengage" system in my head from my previous life----sun/sand/walks at sunset/great local food--music------was no longer there.
The odd feeling of being consumed by the "fog" of depression was soon accepted as my daily existence.Though I had glimmers of hope during days of sunshine or work in the garden, I did not realize that I was very slowly slipping down into accepting a daily dark life. I found solace in my ability to design and create my jewelry. And was boosted by the minimal sales to select "patrons" who either SAW what I was doing or understood the "struggling artist" aspect and were willing to help.
It has now been 3 years since my move and through assorted personal research, reading, consulting, and, basically, pushing ahead, I am now feeling very positive and feeling that the "dark cloak" has, at least, become "wearable." Thankfully, throughout all of this, I have been able to create. Though, at times, it has been a complete struggle to even sit down at my workbench and TRY to make something that will thrill me and keep me going, I have been able to do just that.
The feeling is an odd one. Feeling the "shade" start to come down and close off my thoughts and enjoyment of life's simple pleasures, has been hard to "catch" and realize it was happening. A song or a movie scene or a beautiful vision along life's road could touch me----but then turn into darkness. Simply picking up and reading a book or magazine became a frustrating battle of "I'm not interested"
As mentioned in a recent FB post by friend Barry Hayden---I know there are many out there who have struggled with their own personal battles of the same kind. Some have even "given up" and decided it was all not worth the battle. I am also aware that "depression" has become one of those media created buzzwords to grab our interest and feed out fears. I have always tried to stay away from what we are all being fed by the media, but must admit that I have no other explanation for what has been consuming me. Depression sums it up.......
Through change of diet and positive thinking and yoga and meditation, I have found my way clear. Not totally, and, I truly think that a "dark side" of our personalities is a good things to accept and understand. Just-------letting it control you is where the problem comes in.
If you are struggling----I understand. Study, research, find what are possibly your own person demons in this. Deal with it and try different ways to FIND your way and keep on. I will tell you this------THIS side of the struggle feels pretty darned good.

A travelers Thanksgiving tale.....

     In my travels, I have found myself in many different foreign lands during Holidays that are, traditionally, only observed in the USA. I've learned to either ignore the exact "date" on the calender or try to enjoy my own special version of the event, no matter where I was at the time. If you really want to make it unique and special, it CAN be done, but you have to be creative.
     I do recall loading up two big suitcases with frozen turkeys (this was LONG before the current weight and size restrictions) and flying into Tahiti just before the Thanksgiving Holiday. My friends at the Bali Hai Hotel in Moorea had requested them for a special version of their weekend "fete" (feast). This was an ongoing tourist attraction that included traditional Tahitian dancers and a feast of roast pork and other items cooked in the "hima'a" or buried cooking pit. This time, for Thanksgiving, the idea (and I am not quite sure who's it was) was to cook some turkeys in the same manner. The buried pit usually provided a wonderful smoked flavor to the pork, so it was thought that the same could be done with the turkeys. It actually turned out extremely well and was also a special treat for many of the Tahitian locals who had never eaten "dindon" (French word for "turkey")

   But this tale is of a different time and a different place..............

On one of my trips to my favorite city in the world, Venice, Italy, I had not thought, in my planning, that I would be visiting during the week of Thanksgiving. I had gotten the best flight schedule at a good price and, as is my usual way of traveling, figured out the details AFTER the plans were made. As the day became closer, I decided to have a "special" meal at one of my favorite restaurants---Al Covo. Ristorante Al Covo was a short walk from the Palazzo where I traditionally stayed. I had eaten there previously and enjoyed the ambiance and wonderful food. 

It is owned by Chef Cesare Benelli and his lovely (American) wife Diane. Though they specialized in seafood cuisine, they have a varied menu and I knew I could count on SOME combination of food that would satisfy my "Thanksgiving dinner" desired meal. (I remember having wild Pheasant there and knew, from a stay at a hotel in the Veneto plain area near Venice, that it was hunted and served in restaurants far more frequently than in the USA) SO----I made sure that they were open and available and scheduled my visit.

Now---unlike most of the USA, throughout Europe, dinner does not usually "get going" at restaurants until 8:30pm or later. By 9:30, a good restaurant is usually packed with people coming in for dinner for an hour or so after that. This is not to say that you cannot GO to a restaurant earlier, it is just rare to see too many people there before 8:00pm (In fact----I have found, from 7:15 until 7:45 is when you can usually find the waiters or maitre d standing outside in their aprons or suits, smoking a last cigarette, taking a break after setting up the restaurant and generally gossiping about the day)

I once went to a wonderful restaurant in Oderzo that was actually built on platforms over a Roman ruin. I got there early and, after inspecting the archaeological site, walked to the front counter and asked to be seated. It was about 7pm and there was no one else there. I was seated, but soon realized that I had ALL of the restaurant employees standing against the wall near the kitchen entrance, giving me the "evil eye!" NOT a mistake I did again!!

BUT---I will admit that I like to walk that "fine line" between coming in TOO early and disturbing their "prepping" the restaurant and coming in later with the crowd. Though it is entertainment in it's own to watch the activity and "ballet" of waiters and servers and "busboys" whirling around the patrons in a crowded restaurant, I prefer to sit and relax and absorb the special "feel" of a place. So, for my visit to Al Covo, I went for a walk along the Grande Canal and then headed toward the Arsenale area and the Ristorante.

 Upon entering the restaurant, the counter and kitchen is on the left and the sitting area to the right. Diane was, as always, behind the counter and welcomed me in. She is always very kind and gracious and, speaking English, makes you feel welcome and relaxed with a combination of Italian "Buonasera/Good evening." The restaurant has a two leveled sitting area and, as there were only two other tables with people already seated, I chose one near the side wall, on the next level up from the floor. 

After I was seated and comfortable, I looked around and found that a gentleman of about my same age, was sitting diagonally off to my left, on the next level down, facing me. I nodded at him when he looked my way and he smiled and raised his glass as a greeting. I cannot remember my exact selection but I do recall that it was a bit more than my usual and a bit more extravagant in the selection. I also ordered a glass of Prosecco to start and a bottle of my favorite Italian wine---from Sardinia. 

  As I settled in to my chosen meal, I could not help noticing that my "dinner companion" from across the room, was being brought numerous platters of food. Over and over, he would finish off one item, then drink some wine and adjust the large white napkin he had tucked into his shirt collar, and then go to work on the next selection delivered. He caught me looking at him one time, and I raised my glass and said "Salute!" and he smiled a big smile and ---dove right back in. It was an impressive display of the simple joy of enjoying great food without any hesitation. It made me feel good to watch him. Not only IN his enjoyment but it certainly put MY own thoughts of over-indulging during my selected Holiday feast in their place. He finally slowed down and then sat back and "ahhhhed." Diane went to his table and had a brief talk with him and when she returned, she brought him a small "snifter" glass----and then brought one of the same to me. "From your friend," she said, and indicated the man. "The finest grappa," she noted. I rose the glass high toward him and he nodded, did the same, and said  "Per la vita" (To life!)

Indeed. As I walked home afterward, I thought of all of the meaning and reasons for enjoying such a wonderful "soddisfazione" (satisfaction) on Thanksgiving and laughed at the pure joy of it all.

"People who love to eat are always the best people"  Julia Child

 
      I recently was reviewing a few of my designs and realized that I had, unknowingly, created numerous variations of select items. Now---I prefer to create items from ideas in my head. I rarely sketch them out on paper. I will simply sit down with my choice of carving wax and create. It is really just a form of miniature sculpture. Of course, the over 45 years experience I have, allows me to know and understand just what I CAN create. The correct depth of a setting for a gem or the thickness needed for strength in a ring band, for example, is all information "filed" away----which allows me the freedom to create as I go.
    The "thrill" of designing and creating is watching it, almost magically, appear in my hand. "Conjuring" an idea from my mind into a finished item of jewelry provides that thrill that all artists feel when creating. When I tell someone that a design I have created for them is a "one of a kind", there are times when I am sure they do not completely understand what that means. I have actually had to explain---"There is not another piece of art like this in the world. Never has been and never will be again. Similar? Maybe, but identical? Never!"
   The photo above, of my friend and muse, Gabriella Delgado, shows her wearing a set of South Sea mabe pearl earrings and matching pendant in 14kt yellow gold. The teardrop shaped pearls worked perfectly in the chevron shape I had envisioned. Possibly taken from the logo/symbol for my old favorite classic Citroen DS 21 Pallas? Maybe. I never think about where these ideas come from but DO realize "after the fact" that there, obviously, are "connections."
  And those original pieces shown were first created over 10 years ago. Recently, as mentioned, I created similar items---without really realizing that they were closely connected.

  Though the chevron shape of the original design has been "flipped" over, the idea is still there. I look at these and can see that I was rolling around the idea in my mind---almost trying to find the perfect version. And, of course----there is no "perfect" version. What I feel is the most attractive always has the possibility of being the least favorite of a customer. All in the eye of the beholder, as the old cliche states.
   I have sat and played a song over and over on an instrument, trying different tempos and versions, in much the same way---creating "on the fly." With some forms of art, the idea has to be complete in your mind before you can finalize it. But that is one of the many reasons I love creating jewelry. The fluidity of the creative process allows me to "go with the flow" and alter and change and fine tune as I work on the item---all in the hope of hitting that "sweet spot" of a complete design.
 (hmmmm----just realized I somehow hit on 3 or 4 cliche/phrases in those last 2 paragraphs----not bad!)
  And who knows------maybe there are more of that same style needing to be created to continue trying to find that "one."

Lessons in Aloha.......

Aloha. It's a word people think they know but never really can define. The modern interpretation, used since the 1950's and "understood" by many a mainland visitor, has a mixed use as "hello", "goodbye"  and an overall  idea of "love."
When I first went to French Polynesia in 1976, I thought maybe it was a word that was used throughout the Pacific islands. What did I know? I had never been to Hawaii and only knew of the word from television shows. Wrong. There is not even a word that comes close to it in Tahitian. The Tahitian traditional greeting is "Ia orana." Sometimes that is slurred together into a "I'ora" but my understanding was that even that is quite modern.
 I found that there is a similar Samoan word "alofa" and a Maori word "aroha" that mean "love" but they do not include a greeting or other salutation in their meaning. Now, it is easy to see that the written interpretation when taken down back in the mists of time by a missionary trying to understand what is being said to him, easily ends up with the words "alofa", "aroha" and "aloha" all actually being the same word-----altered over time and distance.
It is stated that pre-white man, the word "anoai" was the closest Hawaiian word to "aloha" and yet even other greeting words were used.
SO---when I moved to Maui in 1991, I had some interest in finding out the real meaning behind it. The first thing I noticed, was that I was making a real ass out of myself walking around saying "Aloha" to everyone I would meet! It became apparent that this was NOT the way things were done in Hawaii! (contrary to the image promoted by the travel industry, etc)
 This was especially odd to me because I had learned in Tahiti to greet everyone with  "Ia orana" (and the added "E aha te huru?"--How are you?) Whether this was something transferred from the French habit of doing the same ---a MUST of social courtesy, greeting people with a "bonjour" and then an "au revoir" when leaving---or not, who knows? But it was something I learned and had locked into my mind for " life in the islands." EVERY Tahitian man that you met or were introduced to shook your hand after the obligatory "Ia orana" (though a very limp, one clasp hand shake, still, a hand shake) and every Tahitian woman expected and gave a kiss on each cheek. Again---probably part of the French influence but charming none the less.
I had the whole importance of greeting people and sharing affection in Tahiti really defined for me one morning while out running my usual 5 mile exercise. It was a grey, slightly rainy early morning---just after sunrise, so about 6am---and I was slogging along nearing the halfway mark of my run. I would go 2 1/2 miles around the corner of Cook's Bay from my bungalow in Pao Pao, Moorea, and then turn around near the Bali Hai Hotel and head back. I had just passed an elderly woman out raking her yard (something the women of the households did every day----clean up the fallen leaves and such) when she YELLED at me in Tahitian "Ita Ia orana e parauparau pour ton hoa Koki poipoi?" (basically "No hello and chat with your friend Koki this morning?") I turned and she was standing there with her rake in hand and the other on her hip---glaring at me! Koki was the mother of a friend of mine's girlfriend-----I may have actually met her once, but knew who she was---and was one of the revered "mama ru'au" of the area (grandma) I stopped. Walked back to her. Gave her a very sweet "Ia orana, Koki. E aha te huru?" with a kiss on both cheeks and had a little talk with her ---while I sweated and huffed and puffed and cooled down from my run. She finally gave me a "ei ei, Toma"---patting me on the cheek ("ei ei" being a simple expression of affection---an endearment) and sent me on my way. It was all very sweet---BUT!!! I got the idea---do NOT think that whatever you are doing is SO important that you can't take a second of your time to acknowledge a friend!
   So----as stated----here I was new to Hawaii---walking around tossing out "Aloha!'s" to everyone and getting a "What's wrong with you?" look---(with the unspoken--"haole boy!!" attitude tossed in.
   I soon after decided I would take a Hawaiian language class to help understand the difference between Tahitian (which I had a fair understanding and comprehension of) and Hawaiian. They turned out to be VERY similar languages with words almost identical---only a letter or two changed. For example: Tahitian "tupuna" and Hawaiian "kupuna" "Ancestor" in each language---only the "t" switched to a "k." Again---I could visualize some Missionary trying to write down what he heard and getting it just slightly varied. Same with Tahitian "fare" and Hawaiian "hale." "House" in both languages. In this case 2 letters changed but the interesting thing about THAT word is it is the same throughout the South Pacific--Samoan AND Tongan "fale", Fijian "vale" (and "bure"), etc.
   My teacher was a pure blood Hawaiian lady named Maile. She was about my age, of average build with a wicked scar on one side of her face that forced her mouth to turn up on that side and her eye to "droop." She explained that she had served two tours with the US Army as an interpreter during the Vietnam War. Not interpreting the Vietnamese but as an observer and female witness during interrogations with suspected Vietcong collaborators. She explained that her male counterpart was also Hawaiian and they were specifically assigned to question people---but talk back and forth with each other and compare observations in Hawaiian---so that the detainee would not know what was being discussed or observed. She also explained that having a general "feel" for the idea of "Aloha" allowed her to see beyond what they were SAYING they were doing and actually FEEL what they were up to.
  This, of course, interested me beyond learning the correct pronunciation of the language. She and I instantly got along very well---and she liked the fact that I could give Tahitian versions of phrases or words that she would bring up in our lessons. There were about 10 people in the class and it became very clear that some of them found it a "bit" annoying to have this banter going back and forth between the two of us, so we began to talk outside of class---mostly during extended telephone conversations. Some of these went on for hours and, it became obvious, were a chance for Maile to "vent" ("perhaps" with a bit of liquid "fuel" added) about her time in the military AND her views on the "conversion" of Hawaii into "tourist land."
  In one of these talks, she explained that the word "Aloha" was being misused. It was NOT a greeting, she said---or even "love"----it was a feeling of calm, open, compassion and sharing. She asked "You've met people who just FEEL good to be around? Who welcome you with their smile and you immediately relax and return the feeling? THAT"S 'aloha'." She said, "Part of the "old style" island life that I grew up with was EVERY time you stopped by someones house, it was expected that you should share the food, laugh and talk and exchange information about what was happening around the island, help with any gardening or gathering and even lay down to nap and talk quietly in the heat of the late afternoon." I told her that this life she was referring to as "in the past" is "kind of" what I had experienced in Tahiti. A MUCH slower lifestyle where sharing info and food and help was simply part of the way it was. I also told her that my Mother had that kind of glowing love that you could feel. Many times I had seen her whole face and persona change when she was around children or ladies of her own age. Maile said "Yes, that's it. If you are observant you can SEE the spirit of aloha that some people have. Of course, not everyone has this and there are those who are trying to convince other people they are something else. That is why I was so good in Vietnam. I KNEW what to watch for and knew how it SHOULD feel like when people were trying to be helpful and when they were just fooling. Sadly, I realized after a while that, as usual, the military was using my understanding of 'aloha" to their advantage and I was using it in the wrong way." She stopped----and then said----"and you get angry or sloppy and you make a mistake and you end up with a scar."  and that was the end of THAT conversation.
   I saw, and she helped define for me, the way that the "word" had been used by the tourism business to help create the image of the "Happy Land of Aloha." The "Aloha Tower" in Honolulu is at the harbor where the cruise ships used to dock. Hawaii ---a land taken from it's people---was turned into the "Aloha State." The image and use and presentation of the idea of Aloha is everywhere. Aloha, as the cynics say, is a word on a bumper sticker. But the meaning is still very much "there." Maybe a bit more difficult to find in its original sense---and maybe a bit misunderstood---but it's still there. It's a sense of understanding and compassion. A smile and a welcome instead of a frown and a question.
  I've tried my best but must admit that there are times when it is a struggle---just trying to have that openness. Especially when others are so determined to use it in the wrong way........

 Here's a little story that will help explain how confusing the whole idea of "Aloha" can be:

      I had been living in my little bungalow in Kihei, Maui for about 10 years at the time of this tale. It was a typical "plantation workers hale"---on stilts with a wide overhanging roof and windows all around. I had rented it cheap because the yard had been neglected and not watered in some time---and was basically sand and dust. There were a few dehydrated avocado trees, some plumeria and a lime tree. All surrounded by a dried up twisted vine hedge of lilikoi (passion fruit)
     A one block walk to the park and ocean---with the grocery store and movie theater a block over---I decided it was PERFECT and began repairing and pampering it. After ten years of effort, all of the trees had come back, the hedge was full of flowers and passion fruit and I had added a lime tree and assorted plants and vegetables in the garden. I had 3 different type of hybrid avocado and 5 different Plumeria trees ---all with different color and scented flowers. My own little tropical paradise. With the hedge blocking anyone from view, I found that I could leave the windows open and every morning open the front door for my dog to wander out into the yard----leaving it open for her and me all day to enjoy the scents and colors.
   SO one morning, I had gotten my cup of coffee, stepped down the 3 stairs into my yard, enjoying the breeze and watching my Lani dog wander and snuffle around the yard. I was standing there for some time when I noticed a lady in a straw hat, blonde and wearing a pareu as a skirt/wrap---partially hidden, standing underneath one of the plumeria trees---up near the entrance/corner of the yard. She was partially turned away from me, with  plastic bag in her hand, picking flowers off of the tree. I just watched her while sipping my coffee. She finally noticed me, and waving, said (in a trilly kind of high voice) "ALOHA!!"---and went back to what she was doing. I said nothing. Just kept watching her---sipping my coffee. She turned back to me and said "John always let me come and pick flowers to make lei when I visit." and again "ALOHA!!" I said, "I've been here 10 years. Was John the previous owner? because I rent from a gentleman over in Oahu named Myanglong." "Oh yes", she said, "he must have purchased it after John died." ---and went back to her gathering. I just stood there watching her. "I knew you wouldn't mind sharing with me ---like John." she said. "I'm not sharing----you're taking." I said, " How do you know I don't have a purpose behind watering and pampering these trees? "
     ( the truth was that there WAS a handicapped gentleman who very quietly stopped by every once and a while and came ---with the typical local call/sound "whoeee, whoeee" ------to ask if he could gather for his friends. He was a giant of a man and always very sweet---and, of course, I not only let him pick but quietly helped him)
   I now had started to walk over near her---still picking away---and I saw she had another bag at her feet with 3 lumps in it, which I guessed to be avocado. "Where do YOU live?", I asked. "Oh---up country," she replied. "OK, but what's your street address?" I asked again. She now stopped and looked at me, "Why?" (kind of chuckling) "Well, because I want to be able to come by and take whatever I want out of YOUR yard whenever I want to."----------silence-----------
   "I thought it would be OK. John always let me take whatever"
   "John's dead. I'm the one who's food and flowers you're taking."
   "You're mean."
   "You're a thief."
   "That's not very Aloha"
   "Aloha is sharing and willingness to help and understanding of the need for compassion. Aloha is me saying to you now---please take what you have with my blessing and come back any time---and ask."

    She huffed and gathered her things and trotted off to her rental car and, I am sure, enjoyed her flowers and avocado.
    I waved as she drove away and gave her a loud "ALOHA!" to take along with her.......

The Grande Ballroom and the 2nd British Rock Invasion....

I was reminded of this particular "era" of music in Detroit by the passing the other day of one of the Grande Ballroom poster artists, Gary Grimshaw. His art (along with Carl Lundgren and assorted others) was an integral part of the music scene in Detroit at that time, and especially revolving around the old Grande Ballroom. I also had noticed that a few weeks back, two parts of this tale had celebrated their birthdays--a few days apart--Jimmy Page and Rod Stewart.The following story tells of just how quickly music was evolving in those days and how dynamic and influential it all became----but first----a little "Grande" history:

The Grande Ballroom was re-invented from it's old status as a dancehall to a rock music performance club by the creative vision of junior high school teacher Russ Gibb. Russ taught Social Studies AND happened to be a DJ on a local radio station. He had gone out to San Francisco and met Bill Graham at his Fillmore Ballroom, liked the "scene" that he had witnessed and realized that the same exact thing could be done in Detroit. He also realized that he had one advantage over the what was happening on the "West Coast"----being a DJ, he had early access to all of "post-Beatles" new music coming out of England, Canada and the East Coast. He would get managers or record company promoters contacting him to push their records on the radio, and if he felt they had something worth presenting, he would arrange to have them perform at the Grande. One of his students, and a buddy of one of MY friends, called "Tiny Tim" by Russ, would stop by the radio station and sit for hours listening to the endless supply of new music. I went along with Tim a few times and we would sit on the floor while Russ had one turntable spinning music out on the radio (with the sound turned down and his headphones off of one ear), and another playing random new stuff ---and asking us what we thought. He actually had two shows---one in the afternoon and one late night. It wasn't until much later that I realized he was using those conversations with Tim and requests taken during the day show, to present new and unheard music during the late night hours.
One other thing I found that showed me just how smart he was at his new job as "promoter" -----if HE liked a band, he would make sure he knew who the "principle" player was---the "star"----and he would let them know that they were always welcome back. This became a very important part of the Grande's reputation and, as you will see, an integral part of this story.

So here we go------
    I had been a fan of the British "Rock" band, The Yardbirds, from their very start. Where the Beatles were a more vocal based rock band and the Rolling Stones seemed to be more blues based, the Yardbirds were, to me, a Rhythm & Blues combination of those two with one other important factor----HOT guitar work on all of their songs. I knew that Eric Clapton had been their guitarist for a time and then Jeff Beck had taken over. It was Jeff Beck's smoking guitar work on the song "I'm not Talking" that had caught my attention. When they added Jimmy Page on guitar, I made it a point to go and see them perform when (or IF) they came to Detroit. (I was aware that Jimmy Page was the studio guitarist who's work on the Kink's "You Really Got Me" and "All day and all of the Night" literally MADE those songs hits) I did end up seeing them at the Michigan State Fairgrounds in a show that also featured Eric Burdon and the Animals. I was impressed...
   The rumor mill spilled out the information that soon after that show, Jeff Beck was "dismissed" from the band for numerous "no-shows" and his last performance with them was in late 1966 in Texas.
   Meanwhile, the Grande Ballroom had become very well known for the weekend shows there. The endless stream of great acts, today, reads like a "who's who" of top performers. Procol Harum, Fleetwood Mac, Ten Years After, Pink Floyd, Savoy Brown, Jethro Tull and assorted others out of England. (The Who solidified the "fame" of the Grande by performing their rock opera "Tommy" there first) Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother & the Holding Company, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Blue Cheer, the Doors, the Byrds and an equally long list of West Coast artists----PLUS local Michigan talent and acts from Toronto and the East Coast. You could go to the Grande any weekend and be guaranteed great music (and for the amazingly low price of $1 or $2.....crazy!)
   So when the Yardbirds returned for what was to become their last tour (w/Jimmy Page as their lead guitarist), they played at the Grande.

Times had changed---quickly. At the previous show, I had seen the Yardbirds finish up their VERY strong performance with, what had become a standard part of rock live showmanship---smashing their instruments and "blowing up" their amplifiers. (I also happened to notice that the speaker cabinets that "exploded" in smoke and flash fire were, in fact, props and had no speakers in them) At the Grande, it was quite obvious that the band was not getting along---and even Jimmy Page has stated in interviews that he was embarrassed by all of the theatrics and circus like staging. In his own words, shows at the end of the tour, like the May 1968 Grande one were "deplorable." The band would soon break up.

Meanwhile, about 6 months later, word came down that Jeff Beck had put a new band of his own together and would be returning to the Grande as a solo act. This was another show I had to go see. Just before they came to town, his album "Truth" was released and introduced two previously unknown talents. Rod Stewart on vocals and Ronnie Wood on bass (and with another "soon to be acclaimed" addition-- drummer Mickey Waller)

The top photo reveals the relatively small size of the Grande stage with the Moorish arch above it. This photo was sent to me some years ago by a friend who swore that was the back of my head in the center. I WAS there but cannot verify that info. This is a very rare photo for another reason. Rod Stewart was initially so shy about performing live that he stood to the far side of the stage near where the assorted fans are kneeling. It was, after all, the "Jeff Beck" band and it had become known that part of Jeff's problems with the Yardbirds had been "sharing the fame." This photo shows Rod singing into the mic w/Jeff, so things had improved by the time this was taken. I remember this as being a VERY impressive showing of Jeff's skills but also a real "eye opener" to the vocal talent of Mr. Stewart!

   Also, what this further proved was what I mentioned previously---Russ Gibb had kept track of those who HE felt were going to continue to provide great music. This became even more evident in a show only 3 months after Jeff Beck's.

   Jimmy Page found himself with the rights to the "Yardbirds" name even though the band itself had broken apart. He quickly recruited new members and initially thought to call them "The New Yardbirds" while doing a contractual agreement/ test tour of the band in Scandinavia. Amazingly enough, they returned to London in October of 1968 and recorded their first album. Jimmy Page has stated that he and manager Peter Grant literally sat down and made calls to promoters throughout the USA to try and organize a last minute tour to promote the soon to be released 1st album.  Though I was under the impression for years that the new band performed one of their first gigs in the USA at the Grande Ballroom, I have found through research that the tour actually had about four different cities where they performed before coming to Detroit. It literally was all done so quickly though that the dates for the Grande shows were only confirmed weeks before they arrived---which helps explain the quickly done handbill (in place of the usual wonderful poster art---usually planned 10 day to 2 weeks before a band arrived)----note the misspelling of the name!!

  What is a known fact, is that the album was released on January 12---and the first performance at the Grande Ballroom of Jimmy Page's new band Led Zeppelin was 5 days later on January 17, 1969. In an interview, he made the point that he remembered those Detroit shows for 2 reasons---one was that he was determined to make up for the last Yardbirds appearance (only 9 months previously!!) but also because their amplifiers and equipment were delayed on another plane by the (typical) bad Michigan winter weather. Replacement amps (some have said Vox--others worse) were borrowed from local supplierWonderland Music and due to the lesser power, the first 2 nights had volume problems with Robert Plants vocals overwhelming the sound via the in house PA system. 

    With limited promotion AND that nasty weather, I have heard varying rumors over the years that there were anywhere from 50 odd people to 250 at the first nights show. Word spread quickly about the power of this new band though and by the second night, the 1275 capacity Grande Ballroom was more than half full. I have heard that the band was very contained and dressed very conservatively in tight jeans and leather jackets for the first show. They loosened up a bit as the weekend went on. 

     

 By the time I went to the 3rd show, the sound had been worked out, word had gotten out and the place was packed and Jimmy was wearing the same "Flaming Dragon"/ Rock God outfit seen in the Yardbirds poster above. I heard he was very contained and seemed nervous the first 2 shows but when I saw them, he had obviously "relaxed" ("maybe" with some help) and, with his eyes almost closed in slits, he was into the performance. I---was stunned. Keith Relf, the blond haired lead singer of the Yardbirds had, what I felt, was a great rock & roll singers voice. But he just stood there at the microphone stand and did his job. NOW---with his mane of blond hair flying and over 6ft height, Robert Plant was a HUGE stage presence and had charisma to go along with his soaring vocals. By the time they performed "How many more time?", I remember looking around at people around me with this silly grin on my face as if to say "Are you getting this? Are these guys for real?!"
    Here was all that I could have asked for as a fan of the Yardbirds---TRUMPED into a better, newer version and presented before I had even heard the album.The power of the songs and the musicianship was impressive and the overall combination was unlike any band I had seen before.

 And all of that music occurring within a 2 year period. From my initial viewing of the Yardbirds with Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page through the creation of Jeff Beck's solo career AND start of Rod Stewart's , to the introduction of Led Zeppelin and return of Jimmy Page. And through all of it, and thinking back on those times, I just shake my head in amazement at the junior high school teacher with his vision and determination to create a music scene in his home town.

(and--- of course----a "R.I.P" for Gary Grimshaw and his amazing contribution to that same scene)

A Christmas tale of tradition and transformation........

For a young boy growing up in Michigan, Christmas meant cold and snow and darker days and frozen nights. But mix in the twinkle of lights and decorations and stories of reindeer and Santa and the world was transformed from struggling with the elements and looking forward to warmer times to a magical place of celebrations and, one of the words that is connected to the season---joy.

For me, it also meant singing in the choir. My Mother loved to sing and passed that talent and enjoyment on to me. My high soprano (at the time) meant that I was always part of the tradition of Christmas Carols or Christmas performances---which also meant freezing your butt off while standing around on stadium seats outside involved in some "Pageant" in a gown that did NOT help the "staying warm" situation. I do recall being the soloist on "Silent Night" and feeling like I could barely squeak out the notes before the choir joined in to accompany me.

That all changed when the cold of Michigan was left behind for southern California. And even more so when California was left behind for the "tropics" of the Pacific islands. All thoughts of "traditional Christmas" were forgotten and set aside starting with a flight to Tahiti on Christmas eve to spend 3 months living in "paradise." So when I ended up moving to Maui, it was not THAT big of a deal to have "The Holidays" roll around and the weather did what it did in Hawaii-----basically stay the same as it was all the rest of the year. Now----that is a question I always got..."Doesn't it bother you to not have _____ at Christmas?" I would explain, as shown in the photo here-----

"If you want snow, you can drive up to the snow." (This from Haleakala mountain looking down to where I used to live in southshore Maui) I found there were other different traditions such as the amazing decorations at the local hotels and resorts. They really went all out with huge trees or ginger bread houses and lights---as shown here on the entrance drive up to the Grande Wailea Resort-----

And I found that the Hawaiian musicians, with their beautiful voices and harmonies, could create their own versions of traditional Christmas "carols." I witnessed this one of the first Christmas's I was there, when I saw a concert, Christmas day, on the lawn of the Sheraton Hotel featuring The Hoopii Brothers (with their high falsettos) Teresa Bright (a beautiful jazzy singer) and the Makaha Sons of Niihau with the gargantuan talents of brothers Skippy and Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. The natural joy of all of these performers and the ease of performing live was impressive. Used to playing and singing together while hanging out at weekly beach parties and gatherings, their "togetherness" and playful "messing around" made for "good times!"
   My connection to the Hawaiian music scene was via my bringing CD's of Tahitian performers ----especially Angelo and Bobby Holcomb---to the local radio station on Maui, KPOA. We were connected through mutual friends and I was used the same type of performing "style" in Tahiti and found it to be an equal pleasure to witness it's evolving in Hawaii.
   I say that, because there was a switch happening in music in Hawaii from the "old school" style of Hawaiian tourist "revues" featuring performers like Auntie Genoa Keawe and, of course, Don Ho at traditional venues like the Waikiki "Shell" or the ballrooms of the hotels in Honolulu. The newer music had that "hanging out on the beach" attitude which included a LOT of joking around and "local boy" playful chatter that could then turn into the most beautiful harmonies and vocals. But it was more casual and not as formal.

   But---with that information provided---here is the Christmas tale as promised.....
  Of the new performers, everyone had told me to go see Willie Kahaiali'i---better known as "Willie K." He was a local Maui boy of immense talent AND, as I was soon to find out, an ego to go with it. He could play anything on the guitar---and I do mean anything from a perfect copy of Jimi Hendrix to local "slack key" acoustic. AND he had an equally impressive talent as a vocalist. BUT---his "local boy" image (which slipped over at times to a "bad boy" instead of just "local") and "all about me" attitude rubbed some people wrong---and especially the traditional Hawaiian performers. Willie was not the only one but he was an example, to me, of the differences that were obvious between the old and the new..
   One of the older traditions of Hawaiian Christmas was the yearly show on Christmas Eve in the ballroom at the Waikiki Outrigger with the legendary Don Ho and a long list of traditional performers. This had started in the mid 1960's (I believe he actually had a very successful Christmas LP) and carried on through until Don's passing in April of 2007. Now---think what you might about Don Ho and the image you may have of him, he was THE performer in Hawaii for YEARS and a shining example of that "tourist performer" tradition. When Don Ho died, one of the numerous questions that arose was---What is going to happen with the Christmas show? Don's show had always had a variety of performers backed by the Hawaii Youth Symphony and Choir and it was announced that they would be back, with an equally long list of performers once again, this time to provide a tribute Christmas show in honor of Don Ho.

    (I will add this disclaimer. I did not witness what I am going to describe. I was told the story by a friend from KPOA radio who WAS there and the story line is his.)

    Who ever put together the list of performers must have been aware of the struggle that had been going on within the entertainment community. Some---like the Cazimero Brothers----were able to blend the two styles and always had hula performers involved with their shows, but others were holding on tight to their chosen "path." It must have been a hard choice to decide WHO of the older performers would honor Don Ho and WHO of the newer would represent the younger generation?
     But, as this special evening wore on with performer after performer singing a varied selection of Christmas songs, the question on everyone's mind became WHO was going to fill Don Ho's traditional spot near the end in the singing of a more reverential song? As mentioned, I have sung in a choir and been the soloist singing Christmas "carols." There are the jaunty "Have a Merry, Merry Christmas" and "Rudolph the Reindeer" type songs and then there are the solemn "Silent Night" and "O Come all ye Faithful." Some you can kind of speed along through while others take a more intense determination to sing them precisely and with the respect they deserve. It can be a very difficult and challenging task.

   So---near the end of the evening----and with the lights turned down and candlelight filling the room and reflected on the faces of the Aunties and Uncles and elders sitting in the front row of the packed ballroom, with the choir rustling and clearing their throats in anticipation of the next song, out on to the stage, in a flowing white gown to match the red ones worn by the choir and with his long mane of wild hair pulled back into a tight ponytail came Willie K..........
   And with the very quiet beginning notes-----Willie K------closed his eyes----and sang the most beautiful version of "O Holy Night" that anyone had ever heard............

  I was told that the version was longer than the one here--slower----more 10 minutes than the 6+ presented---but just as presented---with half of it in Hawaiian-----and repeated verses near the end until the whole of the audience sat there with tears streaming down their faces enraptured by the effort and beauty of what they were witnessing...........
  It has become legendary---and the transformation and transfer of the traditions was one of the best Christmas gifts anyone could have hoped for..........

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1Yb8INtg7c

     Merry Christmas!!

My own, personal "Ewe"........

A recent photo I posted of myself in a tuxedo----AND a news posting of President Obama golfing on the "Caddyshack" golf course, strangely enough, combined to bring back a memory from my life in Hollywood years ago. Let me explain.......

   I was living in an apartment in Beachwood Canyon back in the 70's (which happens to have the Hollywood sign tucked up at the top hill above it) and one day received a phone call from my friend Suze Randall inviting me to a party--and asking for my help. Now Suze was known at that time for her photos for Playboy and Penthouse magazines. She seemed to always have a bevy of beautiful women around her ---either women she had photographed or the next ones she was thinking of shooting. So the idea of joining her on an evenings "outing" was a very attractive one. The "help" part was that she had more girls that she wanted to take with her and not enough car space. She explained that the party was at some estate up in the hills and she wanted to keep all the girls together and make sure they all got there with her---so---could I help? Dumb question.........
  On the "party evening", I drove my Citroen over to her house and, loaded up with 4 stunningly beautiful women, followed Suze up to a house on top of Mulholland Drive overlooking Los Angeles. As we all walked up the drive to the party, I found myself in the enviable position of being with one of the most famous (some would say "infamous") erotic photographers at that time AND a dizzying variety of attractive women! As we entered into the house and were introduced, one of the ladies grabbed my arm, and placing her arm through mine said "Let's get some champagne!" She had ridden up with Suze, so I had not seen her before, but, with a heavy Swedish accent, she said "I'm Anna" (pronouncing it "On ah") and hugged my arm. She had a way of inhaling her breath when she spoke that reminded me of ANOTHER buxom Hollywood blonde but I soon realized that in Anna's case it was more excitement than created "breathiness." She explained that she had just arrived from New York and had been referred by a friend to Suze. She also explained that she did not want anything to do with Suze's "speciality" and was more interested in pursuing an acting career, did I know of anyone? She was refreshingly open and direct about what she was after. Mix that in with that glowing healthy Northern European vibrancy ---and I was totally charmed! (But I also realized that her "attaching" herself to me so immediately allowed her to "check out the crowd" without appearing available----AND sent the message to Suze that she had other interests other than being one of HER little followers.) Suze got the "hint" and at one point came over to say "Get her home safely, " with a wink---and that was that. As it was a typical warm LA summer night AND Anna's first night in that amazing city, we decided to leave the party and allow me to show her some of the sights. Through our long evening of driving from one side of LA to another, we got everything fairly clearly understood about just what she was after and what she intended to get out of her new life. First thing on the list was an apartment of her own. It just so happened that there was one available in my apartment building---in fact right upstairs above me---so I arranged for her to meet the landlord, and a few days later, I had a new upstairs neighbor!!

 (Anna had NO portfolio or anything other than her good looks and determination, so we started out our friendship by my taking this photo of her out behind our apartment building. Too much flash with cinder blocks in the background and nothing fancy about it---but she said "Perfect" and away she went!)
  And so began our friendship. At that time, I had numerous different lady friends who were my "go to" pals for different activities. My best friends Cindy was my concert gal. Every show I got tickets for, she was the one I would call---knowing she would love every one and be the perfect companion. I had different "party" ladies, different "movie" ladies and different dinner dates. Anna let it be known that she wanted to be included if there was any "meet & greet/movie business" gatherings and she LOVED some of L.A.'s famous restaurants. She had been a fitness trainer and was in great shape, so she also was included in any "Sunday Brunch/swim party" get togethers. She was not against a little crazy fun too, as I found out one memorable night (actually early morning) when she talked me in to going "skinny dipping" with her in one of the city fountains in Beverly Hills! Let's just say that her "charms" were probably responsible with us only getting a "warning" when the Police drove by --and then stopped to ask us what the hell we thought we were DOING!!
    She was surprisingly comfortable in coming downstairs at any given time to hang out with me and, as I was using my apartment as my workshop AND meeting place for jewelry customers, she was my model or assistant with customers and helped with many a sale.
   We had gotten very comfortable with our living arrangement and I thought nothing of it when she came by one evening in shorts and a bikini top to ask if I thought it was a good idea for her to try out for the Los Angeles Rams football team new cheerleader team. At that time, the "Oakland Raiders" had abandoned Oakland and moved to LA in direct competition with the LA Rams. Also---the Dallas Cowboys had created quite a sensation with their "Cowgirl" cheerleading squad. The Raiders now had the "Raiderettes" and the Rams were going to do the same. With Anna's good looks, great figure and blonde/blue eyed features AND her natural athletic ability she was perfect---and I told her so!
  About a week later, I was meeting in my living room one afternoon with an engaged couple, deciding on a design for their wedding rings---when,  bursting through the door, came Anna! In the TINIEST dark blue and gold sequined top and shorts and pom-poms with her blond hair flying and ---attributes?---just about breaking loose of the "restrictive" clothing---and she announced (while doing high kicks and jumping all over the room) that she had been selected as one of the first members of the newly named "Embraceable Ewes" (much better than the rumored "Ramettes") The couple sat there with stunned looks on their face while Anna asked for our opinion on her "uniform" and ran out saying she had 2 more to show us and she would be right back!

(Though NOT Anna, this is a similar outfit to one she wore that day---this one actually covers a bit more)



 This couple........watched her go.....and I said some lame "oh ...she does that..." kind of explanation...and I tried to steer them back into the designs we were talking about......at the same time listening to Anna upstairs dancing around in her boots and preparing to reappear in who knows WHAT kind of "2nd choice" outfit. Realizing that our little meeting was over, I quickly said "I'll put together some sketches and ideas for you and we can meet up maybe later this week and finalize the design after I have located some gems to show you", blahblahblah.......doing my best to wrap the whole thing up safely and get them out of there happily. (they both seemed to see the humor in it but DID look a little "stunned")
   Anna went through weeks of rehearsals and training and would do the same routine every once and a while with the latest "uniform" or different colored pompoms or whatever. She literally came running in the door and did a cartwheel in my living room one day!! Her energy and fun spirit was a daily treat BUT---she then announced that she had arranged a part for ME to play in the "opening day" festivities. In the endless attempts by the Rams to create some excitement about their team and assorted efforts, they had decided that the new cheerleaders needed to be escorted one by one onto the field, as they were announced, by gentlemen in tuxedos (like some kind of Busby Berkeley film)---and then "handed off" to allow them to get in a line. Anna----had decided that I was going to be the one who did this for her! SO! I was told to go to a wedding rental shop on Hollywood Blvd. and fitted for a full tuxedo--with tails, gloves and top hat.
  The first time was in a black and white version (no--- sadly, I do not have any photos) I walked Anna out on to the field from the sidelines on the 50 yard line---and stopping in the middle, she reached up and gave me a perfect movie pose "smooch" on the cheek (with her one leg thrown up behind her) and then ran off with pompoms flying to join the other girls in a line. We men had been instructed to continue walking across the field to the other side and to line up there until all the girls were out on the field. They then lined up and bowed to us while we tipped our hats---and that was it.
   The first time went off as planned (and in typical Hollywood overdone style) but they then decided that they needed us to be in matching colors to the girls. SO I was then fitted to a dark blue tuxedo with gold vest and tie version. This was getting a bit weird. These looked a bit "cartoonish." We wore those for the second home game but it had rained and there was a few goof ups on the field as far as when to do this and the announcer flubbed it a bit---and that was it.
   Anna arranged for me to have tickets for a few more of the games ---and the Rams continued to attempt promotional stunts (my brother Dave joined me for one game and we were almost "rammed" ourselves by 3 skydivers that came sailing into the stadium---one of which got off course in his attempted landing and crashed into the seats a few rows down in front of us, breaking both of his legs!!) Anna honored me in her usual fashion at these games by locating me in the crowd and putting on her own over-exuberant bump and grind dance just for me!! She was fearless and I remember just standing there shaking my head with a huge smile on my face......
   Anyway---what does all of this have to do with my opening mention of President Obama playing at the "Caddyshack" course? Well, that is included because after numerous TV show appearances (most notably on "CHIPS") and TV commercials, Anna got a job-----as "The Blonde Bombshell" in a movie being made at the time called "Caddyshack." She'd done exactly what she intended to do and met someone who knew someone who referred her to the casting agent for the movie---and she was the perfect foil for Rodney Dangerfield's character in the movie and allowed him to roll his eyes and mug over her appearance.

  (here in a still from the movie------with Rodney doing his thing!)

She soon moved into another apartment but used to call me for advise or to come to her rescue when her little VW Bug convertible would break down. She continued to be my "event" companion and accompanied me when I was invited to the premier of "The China Syndrome" at the Cinerama Dome years later. She eventually married a movie producer and we used to all get together for dinner ---and laugh about how things turn out sometimes. It IS funny how things turn out sometimes..........

Guardian spirits.....and our connection to them.

I've been designing and creating jewelry for over 45 years. I learned early in the development of my style that I had particular shapes and symbols that repeated themselves in my designs. Where those ideas came from and any meaning behind them was something I, honestly, did not want to know. I enjoy allowing the creative process to flow freely, and felt that any precise knowledge of "where and how" might just create an attempt to define or copy---both of which I did not want to do. So---many of my designs are as much a mystery to me as they are to anyone else. People often ask "Where did this idea come from?" or "What is this a symbol of?"----and my response is always, "I have NO idea."

But------at some point, I DID have customers begin to ask for their own ideas of what they would like. That is exactly how I began creating my "Octopus" pendant. A customer, knowing my interest in and understanding of the Art Nouveau style, asked if I could create a "sealife" Art Nouveau pendant for her. One of the features and most recognizable components of Art Nouveau was the use of the natural flowing lines of hair and vines. That organic "S" curve was an inherent part of my style, so I thought that an Octopus would lend itself to this request. In making the pendant (and subsequently a matching ring for the same client) I had no idea that it would become a major part of my jewelry "image."

With the continued success and demand for this type of jewelry, I was reminded of my own background in "guardian spirits" from my time in Tahiti, or, what is known as "aumakua" in Hawaiian. I was introduced to the "idea" of an animal being the guardian or guide to a person or family by Tahitian friends. They believe that ancestral spirits returned to help and guide them in the form of certain animals. Traditionally, every family had it's own spirit guide. When I initially heard this in Tahiti, I was reminded---and mentioned it to my Tahitian friends---that the American Indians had the same belief. American Indian names like Crazy Horse, Yellow Dog and Gray Bird were not just by chance. They were chosen names connecting that person to their animal "guide." And---in conversations about this, I related to them that all the way back to ancient Egypt, we can find the use of  Cat or Dog Gods or deities like Horus---with the body of a human and the head of a Falcon.
 Here is a wonderful painting by Bobby Holcomb that shows the guardian spirits of Tahiti.

When I lived in Maui and would take my dog Lani (an almost all white Australian Shepherd) for walks, we would repeatedly see the Hawaiian Owl or "Pueo." One time in particular, a large one came flying out of the trees down in a ravine and flew directly at me while watching Lani chase the ball up the street in front of me. It only saw me at the last minute and gave me a long clear "look" before flying off over my shoulder. I called and asked my dear friend and Hawaiian "kupuna" (teacher/elder) Charles Kaupu about this. He answered me in his usual "you must be kidding me" style----"Duh!!" he said, after I told him of my continuous sightings, "NO ONE sees them that much, Thomas! That's your aumakua! It is there to guide you and direct you. 

Pay attention to the signs!

So. When I moved here to Oregon and found that my sister-in-law was volunteering for the Cascades Raptor Center AND had been working with Owls, I remembered what Charles told me, "Pay attention to the signs!" We all have things occur in our lives that we may think happen randomly but many times---at the edge of our thoughts---is the idea that "this is all connected."

Michele and I had discussed my creating an "Owl" pendant for her. At first, I simply could not wrap my ideas around the correct way to "present" the design. After a long time of puzzling over this, I woke up one morning, and looked at the large photo of an Owl that a friend had given me in honor of my departed dog Lani---and there the image was!

When I went to the Cascade Raptor Centers website to read up on what they were doing to help Raptors, I came across the image of "Archimedes" shown below......and knew that he was the one who was supposed to be "connected" to my latest creative "guardian spirit" pendant project.

I have been involved with many charities in the past and have donated thousands of dollars in jewelry sales to worthy causes---but I never really knew where the money was going. And certainly never had a direct connection TO where it went. 

With the creation of this pendant---and the idea to donate a portion of each sale to the sponsorship of Archimedes (and other birds to follow)---I feel I am actually doing some thing direct to help a very worthy cause. The plan is this: Archimedes annual sponsorship is $250. Each sale of this pendant will provide $20 toward that total. I am personally donating $50 to begin. I have already sold the first pendant from my Etsy site---  https://www.etsy.com/shop/SauveJewelry

(and here's a very slight explanation as to the funds-----each item takes about 5 hours of work to create. The cost of metal and gems used amounts to approx.$35-40 my cost. Though I ordinarily charge $50 hr to create a one of a kind item, the more I make of these, the easier and quicker it becomes---so let's say I pay myself $100 to create each one. You can see that the $159 asking cost on Etsy provides a "maybe" profit, after costs and labor, of "about" $20. That means that the $20 donated with each sale is basically profit/labor that I would use to keep my business alive---but in this case---it helps keep Archimedes alive......)

That leaves 9 more to sell before the end of the year to provide the total cost of Archimedes sponsorship. And the idea is----I will then create another NEW design for a different bird and start the whole process again. 

We have all felt some connection to an animal or even the reverse---had an animal seemingly have an attachment to us. It is something with a deep, profound meaning. I have learned to accept it as part of my being and am trying my best, through my talent and ability, to keep that magic alive. 

If you wish to learn further about what the Cascades Raptor Center is doing, go to:  www.eraptors.org

Jackie Lomax----a heart full of soul.

I am not quite sure HOW to address the loss of my dear friend Jackie Lomax. Our friendship was based on an odd combination of mutual friends, similar senses of humor, a love of French cars and, of course music. Always music. 

  He was blessed with one of those great distinctive voices that was both soulful and powerful. I think he felt that my Motown upbringing and ability to match any harmony, allowed us to toss vocal ideas around while  he worked out songs and lyrics. We did  just that over a 6 or 7 year period in the late 1970's of hanging around his apartment in Hollywood. 

He was a great guy to do just that with--hang around. We had matching 1967 Citroen's-----mine a DS21 Pallas and his a DS21 Cabriolet. The difference being simply in the interior. Mine a black leather and his a grey soft felt. Both beautiful vehicles and we enjoyed the special bond that came from our enjoyment of those rare French automobiles (and the ability to compare "repair" notes and share the same repairman!)

He introduced me to the British tradition of the "Pub" afternoon and allowed me to join him and his British "mates" for a game or two of "football" (soccer) at the "pitch" in Coldwater Canyon. Oh yeah---those "mates?" Usually consisted of a broad spectrum of British musician expats such as Paul Carrack of the band "Ace", assorted members of ELO and, of course, "football" fans and talents, Elton John and Rod Stewart. WHY Jack felt I was worthy of being included in these weekly games, I am not so sure. I think I was simply the "needed" member to fill out the team, because I was NOT a good soccer player! BUT---he was kind enough to always give me the "call." Though the games were not memorable, the after "gatherings" at the Cock & Bull Restaurant on Sunset were always worth it. Friends would join us and the bar would be turned into a raucous party. AND, you never knew who would be part of the crowd. One notable afternoon, Ronnie Wood and a few others happened to come in and Ronnie, very sheepishly, announced that he had just signed with the Rolling Stones. This was greeted with general jeering and harassment. "Woodie" joined Jackie, Rod, I and a few others at the table. I sat back and simply watched the exchanges and conversations that were tossed back and forth between these musical "pals." Jackie had those eyes of his twinkling and flashing and loved giving them all a good dose of his particular humor.

And, of course, his background in music allowed him to have that special "view" of just what can happen (or not) in the fame game of the music business.

His "situation" had become legendary. I'll shorten up the story here. One of his childhood mates was George Harrison. Jackie's band "The Undertakers" had a bit of local fame in Liverpool and had played at The Cavern---the Beatles favorite local club. Brian Epstein had decided to sign Jackie to a recording contract but could not make the final arrangements before his untimely death.When The Beatles began Apple Records the decision was made to sign Jackie. George wrote him a song "Sour Milk Sea" and the backup band on that first album consisted or George, Paul McCartney, Ringo, Nicky Hopkins, Eric Clapton and assorted other names of the British music scene at the time. Not bad-----your first album has The Beatles as your backup band PLUS legendary guitar "God" Eric Clapton and THE piano player then and now, Nicky Hopkins. As Derek Taylor said in the liner notes...."his voice is stronger, and the energy folks, the energy is FIERCE!"

I remembered that single when I first met him and marveled at his powerful voice-----and equally noted and marveled at the fact that it had come nowhere near to the fame everyone felt he deserved. When we would sit around and play---he on the matching blond Gibson to George's famous red one (and given to him by George as a gift)-----I was amazed at the ease of his singing and the heartfelt "soul" infused into that distinct voice.

With those kind of friends and that kind of "pedigree"-----how could you lose? Somehow, and due to endless discussed reasons and possibilities, it never came to be. I saw him perform numerous times in assorted attempts to re-start his career and the talent was ALWAYS there. I rehearsed with him in a studio a few times when he was working on new material and his professionalism and the talent that would join him at a moments notice was always a pleasant surprise. WHY it never "happened" for him was a mystery. 

His list of friends was impressive and the obvious respect they had for him spoke volumes. 

Here is an excellent example---One time, he called to ask if I wanted to accompany him to see Paul McCartney with his band Wings at the Forum in Los Angeles. Jack explained that he had box seats and 

that other people would be joining us but we were to go alone and meet them there. OK, good enough. We got down there early and found our (excellent) seats---a "box" of 6. We sat, and Jack, turning to me, said "Tom, I need you to be cool about this..." and he looked over our shoulders--"the others," he added. I assured him that there was no problem (wondering who might be joining us)---Jack sat in front to the far right toward the stage and myself next to him. As the lights dimmed for the first song, a few people came into the box behind us, quickly and quietly---Jack said "Tom, can you let them sit here?" pointing at the front seats----as I realized that our "guests" were Ringo Starr and a lady friend. I got up,  and moved to the row behind the 1st 3 seats. Just as the first song was finishing another few people came, crouching, into the box and, as I moved over to allow them, sat down. As the lights came up a bit at the end of the song, I looked down to the person behind Jackie,  now talking to him with his hand on Jackie's shoulder----and realized it was George Harrison. I quietly said hello to the lady with him, next to me, and Jackie looked over at me with his eyes a bit wide with a nod of "OK?" toward me. I waved it off---assuring him (but lying!!) that it did not phase me one BIT to be sitting with 2 of the Beatles watching a 3rd perform on stage. Again----Jackie's pals from long ago.......

He did his best to handle the endless frustration and continued striving to get the recognition he deserved. I even went so far as to try, through my own contacts in the music business, to get him SOME response to his phone calls and questions about lack of support and promised promotion. It was heartbreaking and, though handled well by him, an obvious embarrassment.

We always had a good laugh (as shown in the above photo---w/Jackie as the clown and myself as some Bigbird variation) and shared a love of art. His album cover, shown here and done by Klaus Voorman---famous for his Beatles "Revolver" cover----was one he was very proud of and we discussed his love of eagles and his connection to and understanding of the American Indian reverence for these powerful birds. I made him a golden eagle pendant that he proudly wore.

I moved away from Hollywood in 1980 or so---exhausted by the toxicity of the whole scene. I sold off my Citroen and remember calling Jackie to reminisce about the good times with our cars. I lived for a while without telephone or TV or any connection to my old "scene" and then moved to Lake Tahoe. Somewhere in there, I lost track of Jackie. I tried to contact him over the past 20 years and it was either lost phone numbers or messages left with each other but no real connection. I recently had done a bit of business in Ojai, CA and heard that he was there. I asked around during a visit and, though people knew of him, no one could direct me to where he lived. I was planning on returning to Ojai next week to meet up with a gallery owner after doing an Art Fair this weekend with the hopes of maybe tracking my old buddy down. Little did I know that he was in England attending a daughters wedding----nor that he had taken sick and passed away yesterday.

A rare talent and a humble, loving friend. Always ready for a laugh and able to simply floor me every time he opened his mouth and sang. Sadly missed and remembered with much thanks and love. R.I.P Jackie

The "Sunday Drive"----South Pacific style........

  When I first traveled to Tahiti in 1975, it pretty much looked like this painting by artist James Coleman. Not exactly but very close. The only "road" went around the edge of the island and was crushed coral. There were a number of dirt paths up into the valleys but you really could not call them "roads." Most houses were corrugated metal roofing or, even better, woven pandanus. Side walls were of bamboo tied together or simple cinder block. There were no glass windows---simply openings in the wall with sometimes a hinged board pulled up that could be dropped to cover the opening in case of severe weather. A very simple, easy life. For this Detroit raised boy who moved to L.A.at the ripe old age of 20, it was as primitive and "disengaged" as I could get.
   When people would ask what it was like, I really would fumble and have a hard time describing life there. You just----lived. Most houses did not have electricity. NO one had hot water.There were only about a dozen cars on the island of Moorea where I visited. You really didn't need one. When you are living on an island that is approximately 35 miles around, you quickly find out that everything is about the same----no matter where you are on the island. Head off down the road for a walk or bike ride and you will have the ocean on the one side and the jagged mountain interior on the other. Coconut trees, mango, banana, passion fruit and assorted other tropical fruit are abundant. There are not big beaches because there are not big waves inside of the lagoon to create them with wave action. You will have open spaces of palm trees and hibiscus flowers and then a small village of huts and houses and a "Chinoise" (grocery store). A church and maybe a fabric store or hardware/fishing supply.....then, repeat. I stayed at a hotel that was very much "self inclusive." Not like now when they want to keep you at a resort with all kinds of extra activities simply to have your MONEY spent there. Then----it was all there really was, so the hotel was "it."
   Life, for me, was---a run in the morning, a bike ride before breakfast, fresh fruit and coffee, a swim or snorkel, some lunch, a nap, a walk, sunset, fresh fish for dinner, fall asleep when you were tired---repeat.

   After a few visits, I noticed things were changing quickly. To accommodate the visit of the French President (Tahiti---"French Polynesia" being a French "protectorate"), they had paved the road from the airport where he landed to the village of Pao Pao---which was the island "capital." It was my habit to rest up with a nap or two on the first day I had arrived and then go for a walk at night to soak up the island "vibe." There were no lights on the road, but then, there were really no cars, so nothing to worry about. I would take off my sandals and walk barefoot. You could sense the edge of the road with your bare feet even if it was pitch black. You couldn't get lost either. Walk for a few miles along the edge and then turn around and come back---done! I would watch for the candle or lantern light off in the jungle showing where a house was hidden. Or maybe come along a few guys sitting out by the side of the road playing guitar.
   On one of my return night walks, a bluish light off in the jungle. I had noticed a few houses running generators for, I had been told, refrigerators but wondered about the "blue light." For a people that lived by the sunlight, I found it REALLY odd for the need of ANY electric light. When I asked, I was told----television had come to Moorea. Only one channel---from New Zealand---which meant in English! BUT, as I found out when I visited a friends "fare" (Tahitian for "house"), here were 3 or 4 Tahitians sitting around staring at the television. Enraptured and watching something they could not even understand.......oh well.....

  SO! One of the things that I completely understood, because, oddly, it was something I had grown up with in Detroit was the "Sunday Drive." After church, dressed up in ALL of their finery and the ladies in gorgeous woven hats, they would pile into the back of a pickup truck---sometimes what looked like 10 or 12 people---and drive around the island! Now-----a 35 mile around island would provide, even at about 20mph and with a stop or two, only about a 2 hr drive---MAX!! BUT---they would drive around and around---all day long! Stop for some fruit or maybe a swim. Say hello to some friends or gather some flowers. Trade fruit for fish or even select treats from a roadside stand. I joined some friends on one of these wanders and, after a few trips around, it had a mesmerizing kind of dreamy effect. Sun and shade and breeze and laughter. I found that I "got" the whole experience and understood the great party mood that set in.
    There was no hesitation what so ever from my girlfriend, Valiane, when I asked if I should rent a car (yes, by that time you could do that---even though they were basically someones "extra" vehicle that "may or may not" last through the day!) one Sunday so that we could participate in the Sunday "promenade." She was, as seen in the photo, a fairly jovial person anyway and would end up playing and laughing every day about ANYTHING but a ride? on a Sunday? Perfect!

 After gathering up a towel or two, off we went! We stopped for some sweet treats. Went for a swim. Valiane stood and stared at some flowers and breathed in the scent and smiled. And I watched her eyes twinkle.....
   On one of the drives around, she pointed out two spearfishermen coming out of the lagoon with, what looked like, a full dripping net "sack" they were dragging in the water. I noted that area and on our next "tour" watched for that location. Sure enough, as we came around a slight curve near where I thought we had seen them, Valiane pointed out a "chalkboard" sign on the side of the road-----"Langouste/salade/vin--22,000"  That translated to "Lobster/Salad/Wine"--(about) $15 US!
   Valiane turned to me wide eyed at the same time I said "Bien Sur!!" (Of Course!!) We had found our dinner "spot." On our next time around, we stopped at my bungalow and showered and changed clothes and headed out HOPING they would be open. When we got back to the same location, we were surprised to see no cars. We parked and walked down a little sand path toward a house that had some picnic type tables set up to one side and tiki torches lit. A BIG Tahitian guy was standing over by 2 barrel grills and greeted us happily. We were informed that, yes, these were what they had caught out of the lagoon that day and that, yes, the meal included (of course!!) baguette bread, fresh green salad w/vinaigrette, our choice of white or red wine, AND split grilled spiny lobster---all you can eat/fixed price!!

    Valiane and I sat down at our own table, sand beneath our feet, under the palm trees, with the moon coming up and tiki torches to light our meal, and we had the most delicious, perfectly cooked and seasoned meal I could have ever hoped for! The lobster were split, as shown, and seasoned with diced chives and butter, then grilled open side down over a manzanita wood fire. Served with a bowl of coconut milk to dip in, they were delicious.
     Valiane had long flowing hair down below her butt. She knew that I liked to see it free but there were times when she would look at me with a "I've gotta do this" look and tie it up into a "Victorian Ladies" bun on her head and "get serious!" This was one of those times!
    We took our time and each had----3? 4? tails and salad and bread with butter and red wine. I kept looking around at the trees or the moon or Valiane laughing while she ate and thought "This could not be more perfect......"

   I have been asked in my travels "What restaurant would you recommend" or " Where did you have the best_____?" and I can offer up "Try this" or "The fish was great here"  BUT-------I have never had a more magical meal than that one on a Sunday night in Moorea some 35 years ago.