Halle’s Smooooth Words o’ Wisdom

I worked in the Dalles today. A friend from grad school called it the Dulls. There are some interesting old buildings that appear to need serious work. The town seems on the verge. I like the Dalles and want to shoot more pictures there.

Wow, who says you can’t make silk out of sow’s ear? This pic almost makes the aluminum plant look pretty! That plant which isn’t in operation anymore, sits adjacent to a Martin Marietta/Lockheed superfund site - but Mt. Adams in the distance kinda makes you forget about all that…

These 2 pictures were shot in a friend’s Portland garden three days ago with assistance from Mark Clawson. The flowers were lit with sliver and gold reflectors held very close to the flower.

He’s a designer & shaper based in Seaside, Oregon.

Tilly Jane is not spelled Tilley Jane we learned last weekend.

Someone goofed the above sign and our friend Ralph says he placed the 2 strips of duct tape 4 years ago. Tilly Jane is a wonderful place to be so long as your not accompaned by 20 other strangers and a gaggle of dogs. Six of us and one black dog lucked out Saturday night and had the place to ourselves. It helps to make a reservation.

We headed over to the Portland Snowshoe Club’s cabin to attempt to ‘climb over the bar.’

The powers that be, aka the grey-bearded guy who opened the door, said that we could come in to warm up but that, ‘bar climbing messes with the lights.’ In other words we were offered a big fat no. We declined his tepidly hospitable offer and glided back to Tilly Jane and a toasty fire.

Some may think fat skis are all that though I still love my Tua Megas. They rip in all conditions.

This picture, shot at a private local garden, will be used for fundraising efforts as part of The Berry Botanic Garden’s 30th anniversary celebration this spring.

We go way back. Kidding. This shot was taken sometime during the late ’90’s by my friend Katie Lain. I was hired by the DPO(Democratic Party of Oregon) to shoot some portraits during a fundraiser at Portland’s Hilton. Katie, a serious pop culture hound, spotted Tonya across the room and proceeded to freak.

“Oh my fucking god! Holy Crap! There she is. There’s Tonya. Tonya Harding,” she gushed. “You’ve got to get a shot of us.”

“No sweat,” I replied. Must admit I was a tad horrified never having imagined myself a paparazzo.

Katie walked over to the table where Ms. Harding sat. Beside her was her date: a southwest Washington cowboy apparently. Think Howdy Doodee in 10 gallon hat. Katie then turned, crouched and faced the camera. Her smile was that of a child having their picture snapped with Mickey at Disneyland for the first time. A big if somewhat nervous smile. The only problem was that the photo was going to consist of Katie, her grin plus the back of Tonya Harding’s head. I motioned that the picture wouldn’t work. Katie approached me. No smile this time.

“What the hell’s wrong?” she asked.
“Do you really want a picture of you and the back of Tonya Harding’s head?! Introduce youself. Make nice. Then we’ll have a picture,” I replied.
“Are you crazy! I can’t do that. No way. Noooooooo way,” Katie said.
I proceeded to crack a joke at Katie’s expense. She didn’t laugh and said, “Fine. You do it. I’ll take the goddamn picture then.”

Always up for a challenge I obliged, walked over and introduced myself. “Excuse me Ms. Harding. Would you mind if my fiancé snaps a photo of you and me?” I asked.

She was very kind and said yes. Still a bachelor at the time all I could think was, ‘Bingo. Christmas card. This picture is going to make one helluva Christmas card.’

Libby’s down for the count. If indeed the “fall guy,” for whom and what did he take a dive? Next question: Will Shrub pardon?

2006 taxes are done. Yeah!

Aattle Babbey 7002. February 17-24. Seven best days ever in a row all things considered. We all missed you so Michelle.

Click here for a slideshow with more photographs.