“Thanks for coming.”

9/5/08

Last night I met up with David, and we drove to Portland.
We wanted to visit the First Thursday galleries that were going on in The Pearl district.
(First Thursday, is a event where several galleries in The Pearl District have new shows and allow the public to walk around and visit each new gallery showing)

Neither David or I knew much about the galleries.
Our main problem was that we didn’t exactly know where First Thursday was.
So we just found a place to park near the Pearl and walked around looking for signs/signals that would lead us to our destination.
A gentleman at Powell’s suggested we travel down 13th Ave., he said if First Thursday was happening 13th Ave. would be the place.
So David and I continued down several streets and avenues.
Then we hit it. 13th and Davis.
We only walked a block down when we noticed the Wieden+Kennedy building.
So we stopped in and were subtly greeted by a security guard who stood and watched both of us wander around the lobby floor.
We weren’t looking for trouble, we just were trying to find information on First Thursday.
David called up Chris, who just got off work, and asked if he’s come and meet us at W+K.
While we were waiting for Chris, David and I ventured up to the second story of the building where we were greeted by no one.
Not even at the reception desk.
Only a few guards walked the empty corridors.
So exploring a little we noticed the amazing architecture that held the floors together.
The layout was very similar to MC Escher’s Relativity.
Stairs seemed to chase each other, crawling up to distant lofts made of large timber and dark concrete. Walls folding towards the hollow of the structure.
Who knows where the endless stairs would take you?
Our imaginations were swimming in the fantastic images our eyes beheld.

But suddenly we were interrupted by a woman who asked, “Do you work here?” “No…,” David replied reluctantly. “We are just waiting for our friend.”
“Oh well I am going to have to ask you to wait downstairs.” she exclaimed.
So we started down the stairs to the lobby, but we were met by Chris half way down.
We explained to him that we were just enjoying the upstairs.
Chris had never been before. So we took him up.
And as we went up we heard music in the distance.
Up several flights of stairs there was something going on.
Many people were up there, and they seemed to be having fun.
It didn’t take long till we started climbing up the stairs to investigate.
As we arrived on the third floor, we noticed a reception was taking place.
Some quaint little get-together where people wearing name tags and badges were all mingling together amidst some entrees and a piano playing.
Everyone was surrounded by three or four guards mind you, keeping a eye on things.

We were only viewing the party from afar, when Chris noticed someone he recognized.
It was Bram, a acquaintance of Chris. They both had worked together on a project recently.
So not minding the guards Chris went up and said hello in the middle of this large group of strangers.
David and I followed and immediately started blending in.
Chris chatted with Bram only for a bit when Bram invited us to enjoy some of the entrees.
Not wanting to be impolite, all of us grabbed some steak on a stick and began enjoying our visit even more.
Then out of the blue we hear, “Everyone head to the bus!” A man with a new shirt and purpose shouted.
We asked where the bus was going?
Bram said that they were heading to a art gallery.
And we told him, that was exactly where we were trying to go.
Soo…
with that…
We started down the stairs yelling, “Everyone head for the bus if you don’t want to be left behind.”
Through the lobby we shouted, saying goodbye even to the guard.
“Have a nice night,” she said with a smile.

As soon as we pulled opened the massive steel W+K doors, we saw it.
A perfectly yellow school bus painted like a hippy mobile, trying to parallel park.
We all casually walked across the street towards the magic bus.
Chris helped the driver park.
He even got some photos of us standing next to the bus door.
We all were just entertaining the thought of actually getting on, when Alex (The man with the new shirt who shouted) asked, “Are you guys coming?”
Chris peaked his head in the bus and came out saying, “They’ve got couches and beanbags in there!”
I only remember for a second looking at both Chris and David.
Then the very next second we stepped onto the bus.
I moved past a group of strangers talking about who knows what. I found a seat in the back, I sat next to a girl who had no idea who I was.
David claimed his seat in a lawn chair.
Chris and I had window seats on some sort of cushions.
Alex then yelled “Is everyone on?!” “Is everyone here?!”
We all just smiled.
“Okay let’s go!”
And we were off.
To where…not a clue.
Was I ever going to see my family again?…Couldn’t tell you…
All I knew was that I was sitting on a magical bus, with a ton of nice strangers, going somewhere…and I was okay.

We drove threw downtown, everyone was taking photos, and having a great time.
David cracked open a water, then a pop he found in the back of the bus.
It was hard to understand what was happening as we left the west side of Portland, driving over the Willamette to the east side of town.
But fearless and excited, my companions and I became more fascinated by our experience with every block, getting further and further from our car and our comfort.
The bus eventually drove down some dirty streets and parked near some abandoned buildings.
“Everyone off!” Alex exclaimed.
We all got up, some leaving gear behind. Like purses, bags, computers. That included Chris, he left his laptop bag.
David and I looked at Chris leaving something behind as a commitment to the situation we were in. We both exchanged a glance of uncertainty.
But continued on.
We all piled out the bus doors, strangers and all.
Alex explained that the art gallery was just around the corner.
So we all walked together towards a shanty looking building front.

As we walked towards the doors I introduced myself to a guy named Derek, who had sweet hair and sunglasses.
He seemed chill about us being there.
We all lined up and shook hands with the artist of the gallery and the hands of another guy waiting at the door leading us in.
It was the first art gallery I have been to that I wasn’t really meant to be at.
There were paintings all over, most of them were abstract.
All of them were on white canvases, depicting aircraft, birds, flowers, and even the OHSU gondola.
I enjoyed walking around meeting my fellow bus riders for the first time. Passing by the bar they were serving drinks and Sake, I walked into a room that was being used as a dojo.
Trying to look busy and bored at the same time, I meandered around the paintings waiting for someone ask the question, “Who the heck are you, and what are you doing here?”
But no one asked it.
I met the artists friend, who was a young man from Mississippi.
He was a very unique individual.
I enjoyed hearing him talk about what he was into.
Oddly enough, he was into math.
So David, Chris and I talked with him for a bit. He later found common ground with one of the girls on the bus.
She also shared his passion for math. It was really cool to see them talk about theories and formulas, A to the square root of B times something something…I couldn’t follow. But like I said it was cool.
Eventually everyone was ready to go. Only one painting was sold to the bunch, a older man with glasses claimed victory over the expensive purchase.
“To the magic bus!” Alex yelled.
He had to be the ring leader, running the whole operation by the orders he kept on giving.
So back into the bus we went.

We had heard at the gallery that we were headed to The Green Dragon.
A bar and beer garden down a few blocks.
It didn’t take long to get there.
Our journey was slowly winding down as we walked into the beer garden.
The passengers of the magic bus were still thirsty for alcohol, even after the drinks and Sake at the gallery.
We all were standing in the beer garden, and one of the bus people, said, “The drinks are on me.”
It was the gentleman who had purchased one of the paintings at the art gallery.
He was feeling generous.

But instead of continuing further down the charred path we had blazed, we decided it was time to leave.
So after learning that The Green Dragon was an old porn studio back in the day from a girl named Amber,
the three of started to make our way out.
Our friend Grant, who we had made prior plans with, had chased us on our journey from the west side to the east.
He found us shortly after we arrived at the bar.
Grant was sad to pull us away from our adventure.
But we had to get back to our real lives eventually.
So I said my goodbyes to people I didn’t really know.

Alex said, “Thanks for coming.”

I smiled.

To see more of what happend that night, check out Chris’ blog.