Hi Lloyd and friends!
This is the only email address I could find for you; thought you’d like to add this to the blog. It’s simply exquisite.
-Dawn Owens
“This is a short documentary movie that shows the whole process of how the John Neeman tools are being hand crafted.
‘It is a tragedy of the first magnitude that millions of people have ceased to use their hands as hands. Nature has bestowed upon us this great gift which is our hands. If the craze for machinery methods continues, it is highly likely that a time will come when we shall be so incapacitated and weak that we shall begin to curse ourselves for having forgotten the use of the living machines given to us by God.’
Mahathma Ghandi”
https://www.neemantools.com/
I stay in the circular room on the right. Yesterday morning, it was drizzling, mist in the trees, cozy in the radial room with the wood stove. I can get some good writing done here, away from the almighty //www.
There are tons of wonderful buildings in Eureka.
Slide show in Arcata last night went great. Packed house. Couldn’t find a place to eat, or a room in Arcata, so about 9PM I got a tank of gas, Sobe soda and some, ahem, Dorito barbecue nachos, and headed east through the hills, destination Reading, on Hwy 5. Found a nice little motel in Weaverville, $50, took hot bath on cold night, got donuts and coffee at bakery this morning and am now in Reading.
I have a problem on the road. I keep seeing things to photograph. My friend, photographer Jack Fulton and I can hardly get anywhere on a road trip. Every 5-10 minutes, one of us will say, “Um…” and we’ll stop and jump out with cameras. In the next few days I’ll post various images from this trip.
Above: Heading north from Mendocino yesterday
Below:Great hunting/fishing/diving store in Eureka. The real thing
(Below: maybe my favorite brewery anywhere, The Lost Coast Brewery in Eureka. Had a 9.5% dark stout, corned beef and cabbage (was St. Patrick’s Day). I couldn’t have eaten a plate of food this size when I was 18 and surfing every day.
Forgot to mention: last night at the slide show, a tall young man came up and said “I’m Caleb.” Turns out his photo is in our book Home Work, at about age 6, living with his folks and sister on a beach in NorCal, in a driftwood house. His mom, Karen Knoebber was there also; I’d corresponded with her when we did their story, but had never met her. Caleb’s become a builder.
Right now am in Moody’s excellent coffee bar in Mendocino, good wi-fi, checking mail and getting ready to drive 3 hours north to Arcata for tonight’s event. I treasure 2 ingredients while traveling: barista-level espresso, and good wi-fi. On the road again…
These spectacular towns like Mendocino or Sausalito, which have succumbed and largely capitulated to the Mighty Tourist Trade, still have some of the old soul in their hearts. Like here this morning. Mostly locals. Semi-sunny, colors bright, surf pounding in the cove. The beauty of a place is often reflected in its residents. Like there’s a feeling in the oasis town of San Ignacio in Baja California, a peacefulness, a vibe in the town square, people are smiling. Now, where was I? Oh yes, it’s a good morning, and Lew Lewandowski just sent me this photo (from Byron Bay, Australia), with the title “Old Soul:” https://mitchrevs.tumblr.com/post/7528547437/heaven
Now I’m off northward, shined upon by Morning Sun, cameras at the ready; goin huntin.
Yesterday around 4, Louie and I rode the cable over the river (https://bit.ly/A9mmMd) to his cabin to have dinner. We opened the medium size Hog Island oysters and had them raw with a lime juice sauce. We split a wild duck (Sprig), had it with salad greens and red wine, listened to ’40s big band music, and I rode back before it got dark. Every time I go on this journey I can’t believe I’m doing it — or that Louie is doing it at age 84. Good on ya mate!
Drove up the coast to Mendocino in the rain this morning — glorious– no one on the roads. Mendo pretty deserted, storm blowing in.
(No one knew about this lovely town in the ’60s, when I first came here.)
Used my recently-developed Feng Shui/intuitive/divvy (a la Lovejoy) sense to find great coffee/wi-fi at Moody’s Organic Coffee Bar, then a nice room in an old house for $100 (off season) at the Sweetwater Spa, which has a great hot sauna and a robust wooden hot tub, all free with the room.
Geared up with parka, rain pants, Muck Boots, and walked on the beach with wind howling and rain pelting. Good to be alive.
The slide show, at the Gallery Bookshop, one of those great and brave independent bookstores that is surviving the Amazon onslaught, went well. Everybody was with me, great to see people nodding and smiling. Rapport. My people. Signed a lot of books. One guy brought a tattered 30-year-old copy of Shelter for me to sign.
Nice dinner at The Moose Cafe. Tomorrow heading for Arcata to do a signing at Northtown Books. Maybe some music somewhere in this cool little town afterwards and back home Sunday.
In the motorcycle shop in Pt. Arena was this little motorcycle made out of what looksd like wood, bamboo and raffia.
Anchovy pizza a la Pt. Arena Cove: first brush with olive oil, then slices of ROMA tomatoes*, small balls of mozarella cut in half (water squeezed out), anchovies. * Roma have v. little water, other tomatoes make pizza too wet. Next time I’m gonna use these tomatoes.
This is the best fitness book I’ve run across in decades. Esther Gokhale has a unique approach in teaching you how to have better posture and how to cure back pain. The routine you go through whenever you think about it is to pull your shoulder blade up, then back, then down — one shoulder at a time. How to sit and walk with healthy posture. A really helpful guide to checking the gradual stooped-over posture of aging. Check it out:
8 Steps to a Pain-free Back
Esther Gokhale/Pendo Press
https://egwellness.com/
A series of storm fronts is making its way to our coast. There was 2-1/2″ rain a few days ago, the high pressure buffer in disarray right now. Gimme more of that low pressure thing, inviting the storms in off the ocean. I took off yesterday morning, got excellent latte and superb ginger scone at Toby’s, headed up the coast for 2 book signings. I get almost giddy when I take off in my truck for parts not unknown, but not recently visited. Sirius radio a huge boon. Water on the roads — a couple of times I didn’t slow down enough when hitting standing water and water sheeted over the truck, blinding me for a second. Magic Slim singing”I’m a Bluesman,” Willy Nelson’s “Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys,” Ralph Stanley “Man of Constant Sorrow.” A pissed-off-looking turkey buzzard, soaked, sitting on a fence post. The Confederate Railroad doing “I Like Women a Little Bit On the Trashy Side.”
Bought a dozen oysters at Hog Isand Oyster Company, rolled through the green hills, water cascading everywhere. Seeing the earth get this much-needed moisture is exhilarating, like taking a deep breath. Acquifers getting recharged, creeks roiling, rivers at power stage.
A couple of buildings I spotted for the first time yesterday:
I got up to Louie’s around 4. We had shots of tequila and olives in his workshop, where he’s now building a concrete Rumford-type fireplace he’ll use for cooking as well as heat.
Louie’s older than me — unique for me, since everyone else I hang out with is younger. We grew up in the days of radio. As kids: Superman, The Green Hornet, The Whistler, I Love a Mystery. As adults: Jack Benny, Red Skelton, the Great Gildersleeve. We both know 1000s of songs. I just have to sing “Everybody’s hand in hand…” and he’ll sing, “…swinging down the lane.” We do this over and over. We both speak this rather rare language.
