Memory is a slippery devil, darting in and out of the mind’s shadows as we travel ahead in only one direction in time. In March, I found myself back in Seattle, a place where I spent the last years of the last century. Walking the streets that used to be familiar, going back to my alma mater, set off the odd flash: of shuffling to class on a clear day and seeing Mt. Rainier, cherry blossoms on the Quad, Smashing Pumpkins at KeyArena.
I never kept journals so many details escaped, but now I sort of store some memories in my work. Seeing again the verdigrised Suzzallo chandeliers (look at them!) ended up inspiring a patina finish. A small imprint that remains after the encounter has passed.