I went to Spokane last weekend for the state library conference. Above is the view from my room, a new perspective of Spokane. It's interesting how a different view or a new neighborhood can alter a place.
I went to the conference to present about my library programs from the perspective of programming building community. It fits well with the conference theme of belonging. It was exciting to be with peers and expansive thinkers who also want to push the potential of library spaces. For me, it felt that, for two days, I was a part of the larger community of librarians. The conference ended Saturday night, and I stayed until Sunday. Last year, I went to Spokane this time of year when the daylight and seasons are changing. It's a fertile time to rejuvenate with new ideas. The Northwest Museum of Art and Culture had four new exhibits. I stopped in as I was leaving town and was deeply inspired. The main exhibit was Harold Balazs' Leaving Marks. He was a longtime resident of Mead, a Husband and Dad of three who made art with unconventional materials with a deeper philosophical approach.
Walking into the gallery, I fell in love with all of these doodles and shapes. There's something so raw and unfinished but organic about this approach. Then I read the wall posted below and felt the magic of this deeper well that he created art. I felt it. This powerful process of making art, not always understanding why, but the feeling the deeper/greater pull to interact and translate with space/place.
"dedicated his practice to the simple, yet expansive, pursuit of wonder!"
Some of the conventional materials he worked with were styrofoam and cupstock (the paper that makes to-go coffee cups). I also loved his wood carvings and copper pieces. His work and artistic language seamlessly translated between mediums.
The other exhibit featured another Spokane-based Venezuelan artist, Reinaldo Gil Zambrano, a woodblock artist. His work was so incredibly detailed that tell elaborate stories, very much based on his own family stories, memory, and the mystical. Viewing art like this feels like an invitation to sit inside someone's mind for a moment, not fully understanding but quietly sitting and observing a new world. What a beautiful thing to offer someone.
Then, on my way home, I finally made it to Coffeepot Lake. A place that a friend and a Scablands book had mentioned last year. It's in an isolated corner that makes it not close to anything. So I drove the long, empty, flat farm road until they dropped into more open scablands. Coffeepot seemed limited to explore but would be amazing to kayak. I also found another set of lakes about a 30-minute drive due to the muddy, almost-spring roads. The lakes are hidden gems. I can't wait to go back soon. There's something so magical about the vast and quiet ways of the scablands.
