tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-308835092024-02-06T22:25:38.357-08:00LOFTY THOUGHTSLoft Living and other adventures on the streets of LAP. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-33515401492665613612014-05-31T17:58:00.003-07:002014-05-31T17:58:34.497-07:00"El Big Happy" New Downtown LA Blog Launches!Lofty Thoughts blog has moved to <a href="http://elbighappy.blogspot.com/">El Big Happy</a>, drop by and see us soon!P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-48616243701505595192014-05-31T17:54:00.000-07:002014-05-31T17:54:07.051-07:00 Many older L.A. buildings could collapse in an earthquake???<br />
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<br />
<strong>Many older L.A. buildings could collapse in an earthquake</strong><br />
<a href="http://www.latimes.com/local/la-me-earthquake-concrete-20131013-dto,0,1555748.htmlstory">http://www.latimes.com/local/la-me-earthquake-concrete-20131013-dto,0,1555748.htmlstory</a><br />
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P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-83696577569586638982010-06-26T20:21:00.000-07:002010-11-26T22:45:24.432-08:00Scenes from the Electric Daisy Carnival (EDC) Los Angeles 2010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtlYAOAvPy6nETsyhVSq6_V0FOqtkAnUp10Eoh0lOxlo4_yzgcwNgPMOl70phgFg0w42FPdhg6iSS4P_gyDu_MCfCUdjPg0pfeYJbcMU6sW_SzVap-SFuzMhXD5OGu05qt1tJ/s1600/IMG_2982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtlYAOAvPy6nETsyhVSq6_V0FOqtkAnUp10Eoh0lOxlo4_yzgcwNgPMOl70phgFg0w42FPdhg6iSS4P_gyDu_MCfCUdjPg0pfeYJbcMU6sW_SzVap-SFuzMhXD5OGu05qt1tJ/s640/IMG_2982.JPG" width="427" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7uGTxWGYPy6Y_77VCafFLIuJwf74luYKl441nJTZ0C5eRV8E8XHPItVmJkRN6hbITcmf3kYzu2ZjVEGuwxPq1kbHuqv_yT9g3O4wSnI_tH1Qf-mlgioFBaZi8IkDFSztJ6Ln/s1600/IMG_2986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7uGTxWGYPy6Y_77VCafFLIuJwf74luYKl441nJTZ0C5eRV8E8XHPItVmJkRN6hbITcmf3kYzu2ZjVEGuwxPq1kbHuqv_yT9g3O4wSnI_tH1Qf-mlgioFBaZi8IkDFSztJ6Ln/s400/IMG_2986.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpFgaG-MgNRTckKT6_jAhUbcJ07-EhnMkNDbDVELiKEtLgrTZe9_swAX5R7s8Y_XsBCuceXScxeEFJotZOR450eMHRCwZfQEXClYWrFN_IttkEXCoIW1l3HGScHNKUQmpcD19/s1600/IMG_2983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpFgaG-MgNRTckKT6_jAhUbcJ07-EhnMkNDbDVELiKEtLgrTZe9_swAX5R7s8Y_XsBCuceXScxeEFJotZOR450eMHRCwZfQEXClYWrFN_IttkEXCoIW1l3HGScHNKUQmpcD19/s400/IMG_2983.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXXfRviZoOMowfh6RSfVh6oVbB0EQR3-jWmMSOpolHsoqXWI56X7Y893fSJVeOj9tRQBKmvv-yQ8g2vJ1Uhko6uIRBB17jKAWIddj1ltc8ol8Alz8J2HrU6cr2XYg1LjR8wQ5Q/s1600/IMG_2973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXXfRviZoOMowfh6RSfVh6oVbB0EQR3-jWmMSOpolHsoqXWI56X7Y893fSJVeOj9tRQBKmvv-yQ8g2vJ1Uhko6uIRBB17jKAWIddj1ltc8ol8Alz8J2HrU6cr2XYg1LjR8wQ5Q/s400/IMG_2973.JPG" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ic8fau1kHDHR7GAsyw9efDNhxSA9hWa9mvGpSJUMzSZR5vhhW6-N541brnFOkpaCLPGM8RzK-hgrpm-CFnE6vEZY0eRUVJrwVe83vbdYrdWsvNR2yN03fyAVOrhDRdVD46YI/s1600/IMG_2980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ic8fau1kHDHR7GAsyw9efDNhxSA9hWa9mvGpSJUMzSZR5vhhW6-N541brnFOkpaCLPGM8RzK-hgrpm-CFnE6vEZY0eRUVJrwVe83vbdYrdWsvNR2yN03fyAVOrhDRdVD46YI/s400/IMG_2980.JPG" width="400" /></a>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-34873374241763590772010-06-16T20:53:00.000-07:002010-07-16T23:57:15.940-07:00DESIGN I LOVE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9gRMEIV2oe13rEJUmpvja_2LWNp5xE-5GqPmOtNkfPWGmvKX9I19mSOybrd7xjYk_G_sGDP3dWp2EhZz-ZMOzhmOYor2nCFPm7kzHH6Vxe-UZ0IIFXtjJLk2lmMbtcrS5Rxr/s1600/Belair+Sales3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9gRMEIV2oe13rEJUmpvja_2LWNp5xE-5GqPmOtNkfPWGmvKX9I19mSOybrd7xjYk_G_sGDP3dWp2EhZz-ZMOzhmOYor2nCFPm7kzHH6Vxe-UZ0IIFXtjJLk2lmMbtcrS5Rxr/s320/Belair+Sales3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>A brilliant interpretation of a digital world for the hip "Belair Internet" in the Sherman Oaks Galleria!<br />
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And just when I thought "Chartreuse" and Purple were played out....P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-12669847375373282152010-05-29T21:23:00.000-07:002010-05-29T21:23:33.294-07:00The Endless Loop - Pam reviews "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" and dwells on dinner and the nature of Human Existence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: times, serif; font-size: medium;">I was fourteen years old when Jimmy kissed me on the forehead and ran off with his friends. To this day it plays in my mind on an endless loop. <br />
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Even this evening as I drove down <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193010_14" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(54, 99, 136); border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-width: 2px; cursor: pointer;"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193154_1" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(54, 99, 136); border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-width: 2px; cursor: pointer;">Beverly Boulevard</span></span> chasing the sunlight past the place the motorcycle cop lays in wait, past the all-night taco stand; and always ahead the neon glow of the Western Exterminator sign looming over all from the top of the hill, with its pink blinking rodents scurrying around the perimeter. When suddenly beautiful Beverly Boulevard, depending on your perspective, dumps you onto or delivers you unto, Temple Avenue. And now at the bottom of the hill in the darkness, the road becomes bumpy and a feeling of gloom comes o’vr you that your soul cannot resist. <br />
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There is my bank, there is a restaurant I had a glowing <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193010_15">dinner with friends</span>, there is the vet where Tuxedo died and where my face streamed with tears and now only feels like a dull ache like the feeling when Jimmy kissed me on the forehead and I knew it meant nothing to him and that at the same time, nothing would ever be the same for me again. And I was right because what I glimpsed in that moment foreshadowed all that was to come for the next twenty years. Of course I didn’t dwell on it, that inner certainty, that taste of inevitable despair, instead I glowed, I beamed, I flew to the sky on gossamer wings and basked. There was a lot of basking. <br />
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There are a few things I have on the list of things one oughtn’t to do too much of in life, one of them is basking, the other is dwelling. The difference between basking and dwelling is subtle but critical. One basks in the glow of wonderful memories, one dwells…well one usually only dwells on the most painful moments. Of course there is a correspondence with how much one basks to how much one dwells; Highly debatable if it is worth the trade-off.<br />
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Then there are those occasions where one can actually bask in the act of dwelling, a truly perfect moment, like the moment right before you find your balance on a bicycle, a moment where you could fall, where you are in fact falling, but you don’t. That moment is there, almost imperceptible but there, and very…very…hard to hold onto. But if time were to stop at that moment, the moment would be a state of bliss. Something to appreciate, to hold on to for all time, something that will come to you again right before you die, like a kiss upon the forehead.<br />
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Tonight at dinner Guru’s attention was so attached to the screen of his <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193010_16"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193154_2">iphone</span></span> that he didn’t even look up when I took out my iphone and took a picture of him, which I texted to him, which he opened and looked at and then posted to his <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193010_17"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193154_3">Facebook</span></span> page, and I then looked at his Facebook Page on my iphone and saw the picture of him taken by me, looking at himself while I looked at him.<br />
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After dinner, we went to the theater to see a film about an unsolved murder, set in Sweden. The movie told a story that spanned a long history of the Finnish Winter wars and the invasion by Russians and then Nazis and the toll those events took on the lives of the innocent. It opened a window into the world of the Swede, a place where the dark places of the human mind find easy purchase, a place where cold and geography create isolation and a despair that is refined, distilled until it becomes something more like a texture than a mood. A place where alcoholism and suicide find a comfortable existence, a place where these have a certain logic, something understood, something that is inseparable from other parts of the human existence, something that just is.<br />
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And as I watched that movie about those people, who as it happens, are the gene pool from which I descend, I felt my connection to that cold and isolated and refined inevitable world; a comfortable place I know and take for granted. Something I assumed was part of the fabric of human nature, so unquestioned that it was not until I arrived in California that it dawned on me that this was something that wasn’t common to all people, but maybe only to those who came from the cold and the darkness and the isolation of the Finns and the Swedes. <br />
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I was quite uncomfortable in the company of the people of the warm and the sun and satisfaction of good connections with their communities. From my icy perspective, they rang false, or at best, like innocent children who did not really know. They did not know that life was, in fact, miserable. They did not know that people were not to be trusted. They didn’t not feel, as if they did, how could they be happy?<br />
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And so I watched this movie, a movie where the heroine is a tall, thin, angry, boyish dark haired girl who rages against the world. And she made sense to me because she was, for all practical purposes, me, in my youth. It unfortunately made me want to get my nose pierced, which hopefully will wear off if I spend sufficient time out in the sunshine.<br />
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As it turns out, there isn’t much to be angry about in <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193010_18" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; cursor: pointer;"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275193154_4">Los Angeles</span></span>, there isn’t something definable to rage against, eventually my guard has dropped and I find more and more inclined to bask and not to dwell.</span></div></span></span></span>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-66455168335348214482010-02-28T20:22:00.000-08:002010-02-28T20:22:08.795-08:00LINCOLN HEIGHTS GRAFFITI TOUR<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5xFjoip_9d4hZ8rGmrHXI4rHavPIyngIeKgp4lHFcOt7cwhcqD4QcGeJkj6Uzg4UI4cYLF-vxmWzWrI1cjuZX5qL4p35ZVFsladrkW7Y0jfZT-3j6XVolrwYOA-UX3v8dCSd/s1600-h/IMG_2936.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5xFjoip_9d4hZ8rGmrHXI4rHavPIyngIeKgp4lHFcOt7cwhcqD4QcGeJkj6Uzg4UI4cYLF-vxmWzWrI1cjuZX5qL4p35ZVFsladrkW7Y0jfZT-3j6XVolrwYOA-UX3v8dCSd/s400/IMG_2936.JPG" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5p3KLdkX5wPeDD_8hooEyirMC8cJ1WjGDeyREfZaBfqYBneJTSDNTACrhSZ5B4S-awaBxMxbOOpZfGLinK02o-N6-N9rfSjTzX5DPpXweWnVsBm_yJ_HSfdH1SC3wNlZyNBO/s1600-h/IMG_2952.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5p3KLdkX5wPeDD_8hooEyirMC8cJ1WjGDeyREfZaBfqYBneJTSDNTACrhSZ5B4S-awaBxMxbOOpZfGLinK02o-N6-N9rfSjTzX5DPpXweWnVsBm_yJ_HSfdH1SC3wNlZyNBO/s400/IMG_2952.JPG" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHAu49CtbzepanfEXch2TPpSqhUIAfcmz12YaOkfLfs9_MsYOyPRHFwr_6qQNhJIjQSW4EOPVxYpUH54VzhxRj62gY7_dTxtFzovdQsSkrKq72dP6aLj_15T-6VNu79VpWoDyB/s1600-h/IMG_2942.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHAu49CtbzepanfEXch2TPpSqhUIAfcmz12YaOkfLfs9_MsYOyPRHFwr_6qQNhJIjQSW4EOPVxYpUH54VzhxRj62gY7_dTxtFzovdQsSkrKq72dP6aLj_15T-6VNu79VpWoDyB/s400/IMG_2942.JPG" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Wy9bmBpfEnesCPiSF619O4AENibHK28l06_nrdMgvfJLMaWc0s3xTTrtT4nGF42JI93lIfasRnExxZ3hq0_DtM2lEOcfCSAIbLChHb0t3ItxI4YhNMjYmJyWNZCJIIgvMh9b/s1600-h/IMG_2956.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Wy9bmBpfEnesCPiSF619O4AENibHK28l06_nrdMgvfJLMaWc0s3xTTrtT4nGF42JI93lIfasRnExxZ3hq0_DtM2lEOcfCSAIbLChHb0t3ItxI4YhNMjYmJyWNZCJIIgvMh9b/s400/IMG_2956.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-75571261242340097812010-01-20T21:57:00.000-08:002010-01-20T21:57:16.309-08:00MATRIMONIOS AND IMMIGRATION<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg0szrjB3T0PXnTDu7oXvIhh870kp5KY_X17i3cGKspsBZE-CXkhaVY1w_4wbt4XMjCHC4K-rS2w_rFjCuvutBNxde3mAVXAB0edYrPvi9hyeH8SF3ZanVPCUjNUEC-jJNV7fl/s1600-h/IMG_2678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg0szrjB3T0PXnTDu7oXvIhh870kp5KY_X17i3cGKspsBZE-CXkhaVY1w_4wbt4XMjCHC4K-rS2w_rFjCuvutBNxde3mAVXAB0edYrPvi9hyeH8SF3ZanVPCUjNUEC-jJNV7fl/s400/IMG_2678.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
</div>A new business owner has installed the most beautiful iron work on Daly Street. The sign says it all "Matrimonios and Immigration".<br />
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In the right circumstances it could be both!P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-44408912644572592712010-01-10T15:38:00.000-08:002010-01-10T17:19:44.562-08:00"CAFE IN THE HEIGHTS" OPENS THIS WEEKEND!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MJlNufbQHX0/S0pksmaVaGI/AAAAAAAAbvk/GTJpdhHo8uM/s1600-h/Desktop+Background.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MJlNufbQHX0/S0pksmaVaGI/AAAAAAAAbvk/GTJpdhHo8uM/s320/Desktop+Background.bmp" /></a><br />
</div><br />
A new coffee house opened this Saturday in Lincoln Heights. "CAFE IN THE HEIGHTS" offers coffee drinks, free wi-fi, a nice place to hang out and a full pastry and sandwich menu.<br />
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Where to find them? Across the street from Lincoln High School @ 3510 N. Broadway <br />
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These people have spent a lot of time to bring Lincoln Heights a quality Cafe House.<br />
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The decor is inviting and their slogan says it all: "WHERE NEIGHBORS AND FRIENDS MEET"P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-70759248243891309462009-12-25T08:56:00.000-08:002010-01-11T22:42:16.244-08:00GEORGIA O'KEEFE MEETS THE STREETS OF LA<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFjA1bkoz8QXv30PHIGTeK8FYGBskUFcqd_pYUFIBrc92YipDPz2ul50ucwCX7RdbGixefdDhjfxw6_q3buwRDmkIm0-ELi7Zkp7byDmqnXL9lWuXwAVcfY-SWpRKVd4JpvxmD/s1600-h/IMG_2013.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389731877084576866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFjA1bkoz8QXv30PHIGTeK8FYGBskUFcqd_pYUFIBrc92YipDPz2ul50ucwCX7RdbGixefdDhjfxw6_q3buwRDmkIm0-ELi7Zkp7byDmqnXL9lWuXwAVcfY-SWpRKVd4JpvxmD/s400/IMG_2013.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
"Georgia O'Keefe meet's the streets of LA"<br />
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It was the day I met Edward Cervantes painting an outdoor mural (see art in my July <a href="http://loftythought.blogspot.com/2009/07/young-graffiti-artists-improve-lincoln.html">post</a>) that I decided I must certainly bring the outside in.<br />
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When Edward arrived with 45 cans of graffiti-quality paint (imported from Germany and Australia) I knew I was in the presence of a pro.<br />
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The mural (about 10 feet wide and four feet high) was completed in stages. Since spray paint dries so quickly the layers had to be put down fast but to achieve the shading and depth the mural was completed in four phases. Each time, despite fans, open windows, face masks and cross draft, the fumes drove us from the house in less than two hours.<br />
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The finished product was an indoor masterpiece, in which, like cloud formations, everyone sees something different. Me? I see a wolf eating a river. My friend sees a fire breathing dragon. But most see a beautiful orchid. Like beauty, meaning is in the eye of the beholder,<br />
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To the artist? It's a no longer discernible abstract of a tag name from days gone by.<br />
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To me? A movable feast for the eye.P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-25903632750053972702009-08-24T23:48:00.000-07:002010-01-10T19:37:44.389-08:00SIONARA CROSSWALKThe glorious bastards came with their jackhammers under cover of darkness and took our crosswalk away.<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiig0JsDwi408Aus4TJE4nboqnH6ycrBUmySR99mAPKJSgQzV0_C9LxrYIaw8nFiUSOCIH-z3Gnv4qVHWA24bLcuzDjHdRihWTLzauFciXmh87-An9zqEpJ7Sb3Wp03_HXEFuDW/s1600-h/IMG_1947.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiig0JsDwi408Aus4TJE4nboqnH6ycrBUmySR99mAPKJSgQzV0_C9LxrYIaw8nFiUSOCIH-z3Gnv4qVHWA24bLcuzDjHdRihWTLzauFciXmh87-An9zqEpJ7Sb3Wp03_HXEFuDW/s400/IMG_1947.JPG" /></a> <br />
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<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhB0dKZcyHSEVpj20QPaao00q6uL3JycNGFJqIHJL_0uJ3HZ5cN47bYGLs8mzqwA8hfu889_NpovbUqJ2B-IzUrsUpFfISNt-fG4asOFuvULhpUIgsvyqJRFG-_c-0xOUj_7r/s1600-h/IMG_1948.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhB0dKZcyHSEVpj20QPaao00q6uL3JycNGFJqIHJL_0uJ3HZ5cN47bYGLs8mzqwA8hfu889_NpovbUqJ2B-IzUrsUpFfISNt-fG4asOFuvULhpUIgsvyqJRFG-_c-0xOUj_7r/s400/IMG_1948.JPG" /></a> <br />
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<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHryY4tYlIlpH63I8uMMXMsDrc4yJhpIR0XZwmHHYkZ87YP1B2i9R7lZL5b3EaP6t-SeHqVUZIViWKbjNm9TnKkIyTVD1qmS8NeQ4pmdqI_HChjI17cKm40aDV5KXDwjljPYi/s1600-h/IMG_1951.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHryY4tYlIlpH63I8uMMXMsDrc4yJhpIR0XZwmHHYkZ87YP1B2i9R7lZL5b3EaP6t-SeHqVUZIViWKbjNm9TnKkIyTVD1qmS8NeQ4pmdqI_HChjI17cKm40aDV5KXDwjljPYi/s400/IMG_1951.JPG" /></a> <br />
</div>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-75050963945536565722009-07-05T21:25:00.001-07:002010-01-11T22:43:56.378-08:00YOUNG GRAFFITI ARTISTS IMPROVE LINCOLN HEIGHTSI had the funniest experience today. There's a mechanic shop at the Broadway/Spring Street V (Bill's). There has been a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">graffiti</span> art mural there for a while (I assumed by the same artist); and today I saw eight young men each working on painting an area. Of course I had to stop to see what was up. I asked for permission to photograph their works in progress (have to go back with the good camera tomorrow when they're finished). Anyway, the problem was the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">boyz</span></span> wouldn't let me take a picture of the artist with their work; it kinda broke my heart because they probably have records and probation that prohibits them from spray paint, etc. Here they were, really wonderful artists, and they had to hide their faces. Needless to say I respected their wishes, so none who wished to be anonymous are identified here.<br />
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My favorite was done be Edward Cervantes (who gave me permission to use his name); a beautiful free style mural. His is the third photo below. Edward is also a tattoo artist working in Eagle Rock.<br />
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I asked a few about their stories, I assumed someone had organized a whole art project; one of the guys came up and I asked him, and he said "yeah, it is a project" and I said "what's it called?" and he said "it's called "up your ass""; I gave him a "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">puh</span></span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">leaze</span></span>" look and he started kinda <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">backtracking</span></span>. That aside, here's a sample of their work in progress:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-CwVsLyMPSfnmqPJTmb2PJFmFuyVGDVS1jC5hpb80IzFTtBQ6e2lpISO8VNm0NV_9oWZ4gOW9iuVXnifuV2PO60ypvwT23kRlPcePjTXi60wXM2YyMln86jEiCtOFpBE2C1Z/s1600-h/IMG_0359.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355202240077349010" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-CwVsLyMPSfnmqPJTmb2PJFmFuyVGDVS1jC5hpb80IzFTtBQ6e2lpISO8VNm0NV_9oWZ4gOW9iuVXnifuV2PO60ypvwT23kRlPcePjTXi60wXM2YyMln86jEiCtOFpBE2C1Z/s400/IMG_0359.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCb6n2LZfqOyu2nPwGO1iZMiL9jU3qSDBGwSb0OOu_yUlDH31uVP-HogLYkCjPunFu4EAuHeH718g7ucu8wrHrx994Xay1HQzvoKDmiBEKUUftJ9gPiiab2e-2_mWC7_Xyj_p/s1600-h/IMG_0358.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355202026313788402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCb6n2LZfqOyu2nPwGO1iZMiL9jU3qSDBGwSb0OOu_yUlDH31uVP-HogLYkCjPunFu4EAuHeH718g7ucu8wrHrx994Xay1HQzvoKDmiBEKUUftJ9gPiiab2e-2_mWC7_Xyj_p/s400/IMG_0358.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxRvwngQubTA9poDTNvkoOh1Qz2Xtv97auKkIcTf-NPv_ur8vt4L9ne8_hTvKAeV5Ff1rGtixFnwAFQx0bM1YQnFMk4cSBxgSuEEazJXFkA_Cf5SzzsM-hi81pwVwnPITOjlC/s1600-h/IMG_0357.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355201690736843554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxRvwngQubTA9poDTNvkoOh1Qz2Xtv97auKkIcTf-NPv_ur8vt4L9ne8_hTvKAeV5Ff1rGtixFnwAFQx0bM1YQnFMk4cSBxgSuEEazJXFkA_Cf5SzzsM-hi81pwVwnPITOjlC/s400/IMG_0357.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71aKR3Dq9e8jZxfBeKDhjplQ88VuMg719Z46kNNhn4LsjqyehuJPPMBoFkV8kHC0NkDturK6GrqvAXS-aIDi8_7EMKpovaPRmZ-Y1J65e4Laef8OJl0067Ie_6Or72ELdDBaI/s1600-h/IMG_0356.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355201518999021570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71aKR3Dq9e8jZxfBeKDhjplQ88VuMg719Z46kNNhn4LsjqyehuJPPMBoFkV8kHC0NkDturK6GrqvAXS-aIDi8_7EMKpovaPRmZ-Y1J65e4Laef8OJl0067Ie_6Or72ELdDBaI/s400/IMG_0356.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbD8KcfjFIaZLcyBHNNAEKh-Pyy0SZNsXwja4eEI8PNgAOcAgK-jcXguOkRDN2urwWoug9krT9CXaENEQPnmwlU761sNexH-SBMn83DkT4zQsvdF789R7X29UkNTdBquVij6A/s1600-h/IMG_0355.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355201291244915906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbD8KcfjFIaZLcyBHNNAEKh-Pyy0SZNsXwja4eEI8PNgAOcAgK-jcXguOkRDN2urwWoug9krT9CXaENEQPnmwlU761sNexH-SBMn83DkT4zQsvdF789R7X29UkNTdBquVij6A/s400/IMG_0355.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
</div></div></div>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-82280654863328273882008-12-14T09:18:00.000-08:002010-01-10T19:36:17.564-08:00LIGHTS OUT FOR VONSI looked out the window last night and saw men working on taking down the Vons sign.The red plastic cover was already off the "S". A neighborhood store that served the community for decades, was being dismantled under cover of darkness. I grab<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUrBAKXeRVM41x2ZSI8KAf-Vpz8HSEzHVshJAPPDstwI2jCMICu9NIKSux5H9CObdYuTBoZgowct6NkOu8Y4B8JZin_TmefN7GHxsaYypLZgsUI3yTOaLl9tDjV8Zbvm85QBZ/s1600-h/vons+008.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279737249006442514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUrBAKXeRVM41x2ZSI8KAf-Vpz8HSEzHVshJAPPDstwI2jCMICu9NIKSux5H9CObdYuTBoZgowct6NkOu8Y4B8JZin_TmefN7GHxsaYypLZgsUI3yTOaLl9tDjV8Zbvm85QBZ/s400/vons+008.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 267px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 400px;" /></a>bed my camera and dashed across the street to capture the final moments but by the time I crossed the street the men had lowered the cherry picker. I missed my action shot and just stood in the night watching through the gate.<br />
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Feeling bummed, I walked back across the street and took one last glance, and there it was again, up by the sign. Too far in now, off I went back across the street, steadied the camera on the gate and took the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9JrOUM1pIlKNM_k0KNBt8S1qSIZIaGzwQmDVkBzjhpCqxs1g1ew-Cd0bU6bRYCO6AXyl3cnhIVe8yFkANkKpXOjSxTXjiMyo42EFSLC5TxWM8Nq2LCWtcIJo4Rt9SDAiw_dq/s1600-h/vons+010.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279738208647155842" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9JrOUM1pIlKNM_k0KNBt8S1qSIZIaGzwQmDVkBzjhpCqxs1g1ew-Cd0bU6bRYCO6AXyl3cnhIVe8yFkANkKpXOjSxTXjiMyo42EFSLC5TxWM8Nq2LCWtcIJo4Rt9SDAiw_dq/s400/vons+010.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 267px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 400px;" /></a>shot.<br />
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As the shutter closed I snapped one last shot, with the aperture open long enough to pierce the dark. As the picture snapped I thought something was wrong because all I saw through my view finder was black. In the moment it took for the shutter to close...the sign had gone dark. Vons was no more.<br />
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=finP. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-76838305852107370922008-12-03T21:36:00.000-08:002010-01-10T19:36:02.925-08:00DOOM AND GLOOM IN LINCOLN HEIGHTS<span style="font-weight: bold;">The Life Cycle of a Local Grocery Store: Vons, the adventure continues..</span><br />
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Life can be depressing. Sometimes it's your serotonin level...and sometimes it's not. These days I'm sure I am not alone in feeling a little bit of economic dread. Watching giants fall is one thing, but when it comes to your neighborhood, that's another thing. I'm not cutting through the cliches here fast enough, so let's start at the beginning:<br />
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I went shopping tonight, just a quick run to the local Von's for a bag of cat litter (pine chips of course). The store looked clean, but it wasn't any cleaner than usual, what it was...was...empty. There was a lot of vacant shelf space going on. I had a moment of hope, maybe the dreamed of re-model, a face lift for Von's, maybe even the elusive "Fresh Faire" upgrade, maybe we'd go full upscale and move straight to Pavillions.<br />
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But that moment was short lived as I came up to the check out stand and said "a little spring cleaning?". "We're closing" was the reply. No laugh, no sparkle in the eyes. "You are kidding right?" There was no answer. The manager standing nearby muttered "it's been coming, but we got the final word tonight"<br />
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Why would I feel my heart breaking a little bit? Von's and I had at best a love-hate relationship. I wryly called it my Ghetto-Von's. The store always had a down-on-its-luck feel. Once, when new to the neighborhood, I presciently talked with a manager about the inconvenience of locked cabinets for the toothpaste and Tylenol. He said "if it weren't locked up it would all be gone by tomorrow". My reply "but the people who come here to spend money won't come back".<br />
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When the big financial institutions started to collapse I rationalized (markets are self regulating, blah blah blah). When the foreclosures started I thought "well good thing I didn't buy a house". I didn't shed a tear when Payless Shoes and Linen's & Things closed their doors, and certainly not when Circuit City filed for bankruptcy. I actually gloated when WAMU fell (they screwed me when I needed them most).<br />
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But tonight, at the checkout stand, it all came home for me. "They can't close "my" store", I said to myself, if they do that it might all be real.P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-58318470152050122092008-11-11T18:12:00.000-08:002010-01-11T22:45:21.913-08:00WHERE TO "STAY" IN LAAs our country dives into the next great depression, I'm thinking it's time to find some levity in my life.<br />
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I thought all the fun was over when the Annenberg Cornfields art project ended with an LA Times infamous article that led with the line: "Porn in the corn creates scorn". Yes, it's a real quote.<br />
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But the good old days aren't over yet. Ate breakfast at a new place downtown called "The Nickel" Diner. The menu is full of drug references. Want comfort food? Have an order of "Smac on Cheese", want a small portion? Have a nickel, want a little more, have a dime bag. OK, it isn't even very funny, but they're trying. At first I thought it was just another wanna be hip place but turns out it's legit. In the good old days you used to be able to come in and buy a twenty dollar hamburger. Throw away the burger and turn over the plate and voila, taped to the bottom of the plate: a bag of "H". Now there's a way to loose weight!<br />
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Walking back to the car I noticed a sign for what appeared to be a new hotel call "Stay". In fact it was a Youth Hostel done LA-Style. The rooms were done up in bright Orange, with Plasma TV's on the wall, and a nod to 60's pop art (anyone remember the Hand chair, shaped like a hand, you sit in the giant plastic palm? I'm still trying to forget it, I can never shake the image of the mechanical hand in King Kong).<br />
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"How do I know what the rooms look like?" you may ask. I didn't need to go for a tour thanks to www.stayinabubble.com Yes you guessed it, the two front dorm rooms are glass storefronts, no curtains, no privacy, just like...you're staying in a bubble. Hmmm, they aren't getting my $29 bucks for that. Me, being the basic mid-western dork that I am, walked up to the glass and waved. I was greeted with a blank stare. I don't think they understand the concept. You're in a bubble people!<br />
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But my senses weren't overloaded yet. That didn't happen until I noticed that the "Stay" hostel was bookended by two shops; 1) an art gallery called "Arty" (cute, whatever) and 2) A corner shopping mart called "Marty".<br />
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Want to come to LA? Grab a dime bag, an exhibitionist friend, and "stay" with Marty and Arty. We'll leave the lights on for you!P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-21448371711162772012008-11-01T13:30:00.000-07:002010-01-11T22:50:51.492-08:00HERE LIES A DEAD GUYWhere can you find a Jack O'Lantern eating a burger and a shake? How about a pinata ghost? Lincoln Heights of course!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjjc3sfA5jcV8W5PfxbOnI8JzrBZcOaBaR7aLmb8nv8FlkpwAW9DXOkoDfBPPotU1EzX-Erm0h0T8bsMCVWN2UlBJ8VUoaq_aSVMVbO-T0-QgjFnVYtvii-uImGu-AtD3NXGT/s1600-h/IMG_1366.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263790047951914242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjjc3sfA5jcV8W5PfxbOnI8JzrBZcOaBaR7aLmb8nv8FlkpwAW9DXOkoDfBPPotU1EzX-Erm0h0T8bsMCVWN2UlBJ8VUoaq_aSVMVbO-T0-QgjFnVYtvii-uImGu-AtD3NXGT/s400/IMG_1366.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
Had to take this shot of the window at the Lincoln Heights Dino's Burgers before it is replaced by Santa Claus and elves (and maybe little red riding hood?)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdys44aH0HSfmdI-evx0b2a6GY9bX_qLpzllVdJDXyYcex91JP5b9a2zL7_xOpL2oWoznokiNfwmx0eGZvb4Xr6l_v6DpMWIU6_VbmnNgC_G2d_Ebp_u-7TWsv7G7Rv8u3tVio/s1600-h/IMG_1368.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263790841752224546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdys44aH0HSfmdI-evx0b2a6GY9bX_qLpzllVdJDXyYcex91JP5b9a2zL7_xOpL2oWoznokiNfwmx0eGZvb4Xr6l_v6DpMWIU6_VbmnNgC_G2d_Ebp_u-7TWsv7G7Rv8u3tVio/s400/IMG_1368.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUp8y6iNazuHS0WXCZUynlR1j-FBwXlOYJ8zrPXMU0cDvPrFLNvk1H6cyiE9T6BZWcEduRX8qQNkZtDsutQd8pJ0NqN3bY3cNAt98N72RRKjUQGiDscqSAJrpRw2YV0uRRUgLt/s1600-h/IMG_1370.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263791157656546002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUp8y6iNazuHS0WXCZUynlR1j-FBwXlOYJ8zrPXMU0cDvPrFLNvk1H6cyiE9T6BZWcEduRX8qQNkZtDsutQd8pJ0NqN3bY3cNAt98N72RRKjUQGiDscqSAJrpRw2YV0uRRUgLt/s400/IMG_1370.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 286px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>I am so behind the times, the last time I hit a piñata it was a donkey. Come to think of it, I did have a terrible sighting of a Santa Claus piñata a few years back. I have to say the idea of encouraging kids to beat Santa Claus to a pulp did not appeal to me...<br />
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Found this ghost at Victor's Gift Shop on Main Street in Lincoln Heights.P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-21922442822950155792008-11-01T12:57:00.000-07:002010-01-11T22:44:56.863-08:00ART, ICE CREAM AND BLUE JEANS IN LINCOLN HEIGHTS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSeJEV2G3c7hpRbTKwKfOV1ebPj_BXeZxIsryEDbBV5_lEd3rbJJhjrkgrJejbnlwKsaHorh_PflWO_O87d90ikKGZZfgxCZTxCS4AKBbGNvi513yc_AcRYQeXN2E3samjK8CE/s1600-h/IMG_1375.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSeJEV2G3c7hpRbTKwKfOV1ebPj_BXeZxIsryEDbBV5_lEd3rbJJhjrkgrJejbnlwKsaHorh_PflWO_O87d90ikKGZZfgxCZTxCS4AKBbGNvi513yc_AcRYQeXN2E3samjK8CE/s400/IMG_1375.jpg" style="clear: both; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px;" /></a>If you blinked you missed it! Kasil Art Gallery opened on Broadway last month but it's days were numbered. Organized by Sevin (formerly Martha Riley) of the Lincoln Heights Neighborhood Council, and space donated by the generous owner of Kasil Jeans upstairs, the gallery was a great space for our local young artists.<br />
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Looks like an Ice Cream Shop is opening in its place sometime soon, just in time for Winter. Hopefully they can compete with Rite Aide!P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-21441407331992580762008-05-04T09:34:00.001-07:002010-01-10T19:33:59.215-08:00THE EVOLUTION OF COMMUNITY ART: DREAM & REALITY<span style="font-weight: bold;">Flower Power & Skid Row</span><br />
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Way back in the summer of 2007 a group called <a href="http://farmlab.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Farmlab</span></a> created a project called "Agbins on Skid Row" with the lofty goal of bringing "a communal garden to the homeless community". 30 bins were set up and seeded with vegetables and flowers. Several Skid Row hosts were to foster and care for a bin during the summer. The purpose (beyond the communal garden for the homeless that is)? to bring the joy of growing food to displaced people. Farmlab waxed prosaic with this bit "our hope is that these agbins become like a single garden, in several locations, within this defined community".<br />
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Ah art.<br />
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Now let's get down to reality people. 30 ugly<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_VJCQiw1MErrGZknSH4YZW9CJovyXfjkVSp-VKE1N_VB6E1SxEGaKP0RqLrLgEXW9VLtKA7ZQFUSlNkFbm8820hLhdj22MifQVb4CQZ6y_RMyOm9xii_FO1m52dnwjOXQNTG/s1600-h/boxes.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196563352141704338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_VJCQiw1MErrGZknSH4YZW9CJovyXfjkVSp-VKE1N_VB6E1SxEGaKP0RqLrLgEXW9VLtKA7ZQFUSlNkFbm8820hLhdj22MifQVb4CQZ6y_RMyOm9xii_FO1m52dnwjOXQNTG/s320/boxes.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;" /></a> plywood bins painted with cheap flat house paint were built and seeded with all the parsley, rosemary and thyme a homeless person could dream of...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">What did they become? little hiding places to stash your drugs? sometimes. Spare public toilets? sometimes. Empty sad looking boxes full of trash? sometimes. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Do I hear any communal gardens of happiness? Sorry folks. But stil<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxHa7K2u4ZhH2-bKvx_K9WhNCVlZwLKZzqTyfJfscBODxEu8_DzVrs_PBbjAkHV-ctcpz53m_zn5L1PU3RvojWtRVuXAQB5BXpFlCHURh3O8gL5SODelUmQGJ88urAl-jXlGp/s1600-h/flower_power.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196563532530330786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxHa7K2u4ZhH2-bKvx_K9WhNCVlZwLKZzqTyfJfscBODxEu8_DzVrs_PBbjAkHV-ctcpz53m_zn5L1PU3RvojWtRVuXAQB5BXpFlCHURh3O8gL5SODelUmQGJ88urAl-jXlGp/s320/flower_power.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt;" /></a>l…a year later our three boxes may be down on their luck like the neighborhood, but one flower was determined to find purchase there. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Another became a painting surface for a very Chagall-esque street artist:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKS0JlVhBkLjgoT71OO24J6gTxIt2wFrV_iulIGcWTOlqdwyfYzyjv2KGDtAjJwMP14gwjF2tcg_Zh0XgfT2SW0XtER7KSS1sJ7dETkunMy9WxOB915ghjlG62mSNFtYSZ48Ra/s1600-h/chagalesque+streetart.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196563708623989938" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKS0JlVhBkLjgoT71OO24J6gTxIt2wFrV_iulIGcWTOlqdwyfYzyjv2KGDtAjJwMP14gwjF2tcg_Zh0XgfT2SW0XtER7KSS1sJ7dETkunMy9WxOB915ghjlG62mSNFtYSZ48Ra/s320/chagalesque+streetart.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Maybe it was not what the Farmlab-ers were hoping for...But it was supposed to be a community project right?<a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="return false;" tabindex="10"> </a><br />
</div>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-32973645526060278032008-04-22T20:37:00.001-07:002010-01-10T20:29:27.173-08:00TURNED ON IN LINCOLN HEIGHTS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MJlNufbQHX0/SA6vUxE4LHI/AAAAAAAABFs/mKFAuTBBygk/s1600-h/IMG_0628.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192280191710801010" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MJlNufbQHX0/SA6vUxE4LHI/AAAAAAAABFs/mKFAuTBBygk/s400/IMG_0628.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;" /></a><br />
</div><span id="lw_1208789091_0" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;"> Our town pulls all the stops out for the "<span style="font-weight: bold;">North Broadway Street Lighting</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Ceremony</span>" <span id="lw_1208789091_1" style="-moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;">on Tuesday, April 22, 2008 at 7:30 pm</span> at the northwest corner of Avenue 24 and North Broadway.<br />
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Councilmember Ed Reyes and the Department of Public Works Bureau of Street Lighting invite the community to attend.<br />
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The lighting project, on North Broadway between Sichel Ave and the LA River and a portion of North Spring between Avenue 18 and the LA River, replaced the existing street lighting (older concrete poles) with decorative steel roadway lighting poles and pedestrian lighting poles. 135 new lights were installed including 47 pedestrian lights and 88 roadway lights.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguDhi7eHpoXSauBRSGtxHqVL7eIEpkQmR0FfSG4ITGrWK28n7h92C2G0MLpWy44F9qg3qLpoKHulhJxDuoUrzc0LMzBMVGBDyTAaEU3MvXnXYe1obC6EHyndwNbgm1e2za2-YH/s1600-h/IMG_0627.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192280342034656386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguDhi7eHpoXSauBRSGtxHqVL7eIEpkQmR0FfSG4ITGrWK28n7h92C2G0MLpWy44F9qg3qLpoKHulhJxDuoUrzc0LMzBMVGBDyTAaEU3MvXnXYe1obC6EHyndwNbgm1e2za2-YH/s400/IMG_0627.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;" /></a><br />
</div>To celebrate the completion of the 2.3 million installation of "historic" street lights... it looked like Councilman Reyes switched on the lights...but looks can be deceiving.<br />
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It looked like the Councilman pulling the switch that turned on the lights...but really...it was (scroll down)<br />
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Juan!<br />
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I'm sorry I caught you with your eyes closed dude!P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-16766035679071813142008-01-15T12:20:00.001-08:002008-01-15T12:24:36.254-08:00RAIN RAIN GO AWAY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsW327eQgIY7VpCTyko2pnSXYGDADxuMbUmDBttoDsfu2P_6ceadNSGk7VU5AODX_-RXVm40izkzH-hpaI7lTbGssu2CDI-U-0WugIGKXUC1szy9gf-_LDyuSL4imLe1RpfzKN/s1600-h/IMG_3626.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsW327eQgIY7VpCTyko2pnSXYGDADxuMbUmDBttoDsfu2P_6ceadNSGk7VU5AODX_-RXVm40izkzH-hpaI7lTbGssu2CDI-U-0WugIGKXUC1szy9gf-_LDyuSL4imLe1RpfzKN/s400/IMG_3626.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155801706795180434" border="0" /></a>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-62870767352764556562008-01-14T08:12:00.000-08:002010-01-10T19:32:13.703-08:00MEN IN BLACK: IMAGINARY CRIME IN LINCOLN HEIGHTS<span style="font-style: italic;">If I had a hammer, I'd hammer in the morning (not the night!)...</span><br />
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It was a hot night and my window was open. I couldn't sleep. There was a loud banging noise outside. It was very loud, and very close. The part of my brain that evolved to make sure I wouldn't get eaten by a mountain lion if I was separated from the herd--woke up. Then it was very quiet, followed by another noise which would be best described as spray paint noise. I didn't realize how much I wanted to catch the neighborhood taggers until I found I was willing to jump out of bed and stake out the bad guys. I tip toed across the floor to the window and peeked out.<br />
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There on the roof of La Playita were four men dressed in black (so cliche). I heard more banging, and it looked like they were trying to get in through the roof. So, noble citizen that I am, I called 911. I watched as they dropped down into the night. Car headlights went on and a sedan drove off down the alley. They were gone. Almost 20 minutes later, a squad car nervously approached flashed a light, sat a safe distance and then drove away.<br />
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Another 30 minutes and the noise started again! This time I looked and the morons were INSIDE the restaurant. So I called in my second burglary in progress. If it's a night janitorial crew, then they wouldn't be on the roof dressed in black. So then one of the guys came out on Broadway and actually stood lookout. Still waiting, I was sure they'd be long gone by the time the next squad responded.<br />
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What would they be stealing in there? Tacos?<br />
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I looked out again and yes they were gone, the truck was gone. Then my phone rang, it was LAPD. "They were working on the roof ma'am". "Oh, wow, thank you for letting me know" "Good night Miss" "Good night"<br />
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Of course I still couldn't go to sleep. What? Working on the roof of Taco Restaurant at 11:30 at night? Wearing black? Yep.P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-37435254618420643522008-01-12T17:44:00.000-08:002010-01-11T22:43:08.641-08:00LINCOLN HEIGHTS HOMICIDEProving the old adage, "no news is good news", Lincoln Heights had a sad entry on the LA Times Homicide report this week. Now I know why I saw all the police cars...<br />
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<blockquote>1/5/08 - Sergio Serna, a 21-year-old Latino man, was shot and killed at 2601 Mozart St. in Lincoln Heights about 1:20 p.m. Saturday, Jan. 5. Two other Latino men were also injured and taken to a local hospital by ambulance; one is in critical condition and the other is stable. A male suspect, Latino, was last seen running north on Mozart Street to an awaiting vehicle, according to LAPD officials. The suspect was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt with a black bandana covering his face. Anyone with information can call Hollenbeck Homicide Detectives Smith or Marin at (323)526-3679<br />
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More info from the <a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/homicidereport/2008/01/lincoln-heighs.html#comments">Homicide Report</a>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-70866617479945368892007-10-24T21:54:00.000-07:002010-01-10T19:30:39.653-08:00GUN "FIRE": LETTING GOBack in the early 90's I spied a photo in a coffee shop/gallery in Santa Rosa. The photo was called "Johnny Get Your Gun" featuring a gun point blank at the camera, the shooter blurred in the background. I had to have it, but back then I couldn't find the $100 bucks. I kept the phone number on a little slip of paper, but I never called. One day, my boss (Helen) said to me, I want to give you a performance award and I know a plaque won't cut it with you, how about you buy something you want and I pay. And so it was; Helen (who abhorred the photo) became my financial backer in my first art acquisition (okay, my only acquisition). As I dialed the number I thought "this has been too long, the phone number is probably no good, the picture probably sold," etc. etc. But to my surprise, it wasn't and it hadn't.<br />
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The photographer answered the phone on the first ring. She was moving she told me, tomorrow and although she didn't really want to sell the print, she desperately needed the cash. When I came over, cash in hand, she handed me the framed print, but as I took it, she didn't let go and a little push and pull happened. As I realized that it meant something very important to her I promised her it would always have a place of prominence in my home. With that she accepted the sale. I felt terrible. I mentally promised myself I'd return it to her someday, that she was really just loaning it to me.<br />
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</div>I left the house as she returned to packing. As I walked down the path I heard her crying, wailing really and I almost turned back, but something told me it wasn't the right thing to do. She was letting go of something and I was part of it.<br />
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And now almost twenty years later I still carry this print around. There's something so objectionable about it that I have yet to have a visitor who admired it and untrue to my promise, it has often sat on floors and closets, occasionally pulled out with ambivalence and some regret.<br />
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Such was the case last week, as I came across it sitting on a dusty floor. I picked up the print and set it on a bench, propped against the wall where I could see it.<br />
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It was Fall, an odd transitory sort of season as it is, when the LA Fires began. The fires burned and burned and as they did the City filled with soot and the air clouded over with smoke. Yesterday it was so bad that when the sun began to set, the smoke turned the sunset blood red. It was at that moment that I looked around my darkening room and saw the red sunlight shining straight on, and only on, Johnny Get your Gun.P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-33323010440003453912007-09-09T07:17:00.000-07:002010-01-10T19:29:39.296-08:00COUNCIL DISTRICT 1 - THE FORGOTTEN EDGE?<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Exploring North East LA Stats</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">I've been living in CD 1 for almost eight months now, walking and driving around, exploring the neighborhood; but I can't say I've learned that much. Tonight I checked out Councilman Reyes website and I was surprised how little I knew. Council District One has a population of 222,165 people. Seventy percent of our district, or 154,927 people, are above the age of 18. The remaining thirty percent or 67,238 people, are under the age of 18. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">The communities that make up District 1 include: Glassell Park, Cypress Park, Highland Park, Mt. Washington, Solano Canyon, Elysian Park, Echo Park, Westlake, Angelino Heights, Temple Beaudry, Lafayette Park, Chinatown, Forgotten Edge, Lincoln Heights, Montecito Heights, Pico Union, Adams-Normandie, Mid Cities and Mac Arthur Park.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Forgotten Edge? I can't find anyone who can tell me where it is. Have they all forgotten?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Geographically, CD1 is the 3rd smallest district in the City and is the only district in all of Los Angeles that does not border a separate municipality. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"> CD1 is one of the most ethnically rich districts. According to the most recent census data, District 1 is 75.5% Latino; 15.1% Asian; 5.4% White- Non/Hispanic; 2.6% Black/African American; 1.0% Multi-racial; 0.3% American Indian and 0.1% Other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Maybe the 0.1% Other lives in Forgotten Edge?</span>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-23273155600075036272007-08-08T22:13:00.000-07:002010-01-10T19:28:55.190-08:00THOUGHTS FROM A LOFTI realized tonight<br />
this is probably the closest to living in a garret<br />
that I'm ever going to get.P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30883509.post-43055324989347242622007-07-29T20:57:00.001-07:002010-01-10T19:28:27.826-08:00LINCOLN HEIGHTS AT SUNSET<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Nm8y000Oq9vnorHA5H3ZrFPUZjPPaMkvfifZOrveWTR6eAFzJHOW6Dy27dHVBMpvIxthkuPsYgu0nxwdH4dc7ZM05gXXBR7aT2B2TEDtJ4xhLQeMHI3MGuoosPzDFs_zS3oF/s1600-h/IMG_3536.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092834635966667346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Nm8y000Oq9vnorHA5H3ZrFPUZjPPaMkvfifZOrveWTR6eAFzJHOW6Dy27dHVBMpvIxthkuPsYgu0nxwdH4dc7ZM05gXXBR7aT2B2TEDtJ4xhLQeMHI3MGuoosPzDFs_zS3oF/s400/IMG_3536.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>P. Ashlundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08849994782572188510noreply@blogger.com0