I had a lovely bike ride this afternoon. We think there were about 30 people, some I knew; Manny and Cybele, Stephen and Alice, Spencer and Delmy (who I actually met for the first time today). Will says I rolled about 6.5 miles. I haven't rolled that far since I was a kid, and me and some friends rode the L.A. River from my neighborhood in Lynwood all the way to Cudahay.
With stops along the way today, Will shared some history, development, as well as some odd occurrences and trivia about the L.A. River. There was a rider with a bike rigged with a cart that held a child, that cart was rigged with another cart that held a PA system. The little girl being towed in the second cart was operating the iPod that controlled the soundtrack for the afternoon.
The turn-around point was the Los Angeles River Center and Gardens. With the wind in my ears I shifted gears on the hill and seeing those ahead of me signal a left turn ahead, I did the same for those in my wake. The center occupies a wonderful Spanish style dwelling with lush gardens, an artful interpretation of the river done on a garden-size scale, and a cool and shady courtyard with Spanish tiles surrounding the fountain.
This being my first "mass" ride, it was interesting to witness the attention our little group received whenever we had to roll on public streets or when we passed people by on the way. Through the little neighborhood that hugs the river someone asked as I rolled by "Where you all going?", "To the river" I said. And as we rolled under a small overpass that was the gathering spot of a few of the city's indigent, our soundtrack filling the air, they smiled and did a jig, holding up their liquor bottles in salute.
Before
After
Thanks to Julia I received an introduction to Dr. Pozzi at Home. His place of residence is the Hammer Museum. A wonderfully intimate (small) museum that is free through the summer. Will and I took a trip over on Saturday afternoon to say hello to Dr. Pozzi and view the rest of the art installations.
Dr. Pozzi is the work of 19th century American painter John Singer Sargent, and the informality of the doctor in his brilliant red dressing gown is so intriguing, one slippered foot poking out from beneath his hem.
Photos on Flickr of the Hammer Museum, a drive by the Storybook House and a stop at Milk on the way home for refreshments.
Woke up thinking about what a great trip we had last year. A road trip that was all designed to get us to Grandma's house in Troy Montana for the 4th of July, where my family were gathering. It was a minor miricle to have us all together. With just me, my brother, mom, uncle and grandma, we are as spread apart as we've ever been. But the talk is we may be together again this Thanksgiving in South Carolina, well all but one. I don't think Uncle Jim and Elva will make the trip, but maybe????
So today my sweetie and I are celebrating the 4th of July with the Dodgers and with a belly full of Dodger Dogs, Peanuts and Ice Cream we'll stay for post game fireworks at the ball park.
The Farmer's Market that used to be down the street from my office on Wilshire is gone. I believe they moved further down the street but when I called the phone number for the association that handles organic farmer's markets in the city, I only got voicemail. I left a message and stated my inquiry for their new location, along with my name and number, but no one called me back. I really needed a good peach.
So it was decided that Saturday morning we would take a walk down to the Silverlake Farmer's Market via the back streets that connect to steeply-steep Micheltorena, and wind our way back down to Sunset. There we would bag us some goodies at the farmer's market and have breakfast at Millie's. Later in the afternoon we would haul about 40 cans of old paint from the basement, and Joe's leftover motor oil from the garage, load it into the back of Will's truck and take it to a hazardous waste disposal center in Glendale. Which is relatively close to Fish King where we can pick up some soft shelled crabs for dinner. And Foster's Freeze just happens to be on the way home and by 3:00 in the afternoon we could use some ice cream dipped in chocolate running down our chins.
So that was the plan. And all of those things we did. Right down to the last drop of dripping ice cream.
What wasn't in the plan was a yard sale in full swing at a nice little house on Maltman as we wound our way down to be deposited back on Sunset and the Farmer's Market. As we walked by the front of the house we spied some very interesting bits of glass, pottery, and figurines place mosaicly into cement interweaving between the plants and shrubs along the curb.
We began taking pictures and as we looked around some more saw baubles poked onto cactus arms and other oddities. I walked along a bank of fold up tables lining the driveway and a man passing me said "You can go into the backyard. It's very artistic." I didn't even get a clear look at him, there were so many people eyeing the treasures for sale on the tables before us. But the words found their way to my ears through the din of all the other voices swirling around, and I crooked my finger at Will and motioned to him to follow me. We entered a narrow walkway along the side of the house and through a gateway we were in the backyard.
There we found an wondrous display of art, baubles, bottles, figurines, statuary, shrines, beads, and winding paths all intertwined within huge tropical plants and palm trees with an art studio tucked away in the back corner.
We believed it must be the home of the much loved local resident of our Echo Park/Silverlake community, Alberto Hernandez. His garden was featured in the movie Quinceanera and I remember first hearing about him in a feature in the Times or the Weekly. Though photos can not do justice to the live experience of being in his garden where nearly every inch is a work of art and whimsy, I shot away. When we arrived back home Will did a quick search to confirm that it was in fact the garden and art studio of Alberto. What a special treat it was to stumble upon this yard sale and be allowed entry to the magic garden of Alberto Hernandez. More on Flickr.