All posts tagged Portland:

August 29, 2012 | Comment

AboutFace Radio is a talk radio version of the arts and entertainment, interview magazine - AboutFace. Hosted by Jamie Mustard & KC AboutFace Radio focuses on STORIES OF SUCCESS in Portland across a range of human endeavors. The show also focuses on the amazing stories of local Portlanders or those with a Portland “sensibility” that aligns with Portland’s globally recognized & respected efforts in design, business and social innovation.
Listen to AboutFace Radio Podcasts on iTunes - HERE

March 08, 2009 | Comment

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Photo courtesy of The Oregonian

This past weekend the Rose City played host to 62 skilled, passion-filled, java artisans in the U.S. at the 2009 Barista Championships . The 62 competitors hailed from around the country and put their latte luv and espresso expertise on display for the chance to represent the USA at the Bartista World Championship later this year in Atlanta.

I must admit that this wonderfully, playful story, from the Saturday edition of The Oregonian, was exuberantly brought to my attention by my coffee-lovin’ wife - Kim!

Enjoy the read?preferably over a nicely prepared cup o’ your favorite coffee concoction! 

January 26, 2009 | Comment

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My great friend and fellow sufferer of the “Basketball Jones” malady,  Marshall Cho, sent me a great update today about his human catalyst efforts in Mozambique using hoops as a tool to transform lives. Enjoy the latest email update from my man, Mozambique Marshall - “Hoops LUV”

@Work?!

January 02, 2009 | Comment

We made it! 

I wanted to share Kurt Perschke’s new Red Ball Project: Chicago page.  Aside from its excellent design, there are videos of the Red Ball’s long stay in Chi-town this summer, as well as its travels to Sydney, Australia and, er, Portland.  Check it out.

WISHING EVERYONE A HEALTHY + SUCCESS-FILLED 2009!!!


What’s your Red Rubber Ball?!

December 19, 2008 | 2 comments

The cough had rattled my chest for two months.  I’d been working part-time at a family homeless shelter, interacting with struggling single mothers and two parent families with runny nosed kids in tow.  Meth, crack and alcohol habits were common, bad luck was universal, it’d have to be to end up on the floor, on a pad, in a cold, tiled church gym. 

My shift was four in the afternoon until ten at night.  I’d call volunteers to make sure that we’d have a hot meal for that night’s guests.  I’d call volunteers who would come and play with and supervise the children while their parents rested. The adults needed to unwind from a hard day of walking, panhandling, or just staying warm on the streets.  I’d call volunteers to make sure we had two overnight monitors who would sleep in the gym with the shelter guests.  When we didn’t have, couldn’t find a monitor, I would spend the night. 

The winter of 2004-05 was tough; the numerous sub-freezing nights, with ice storms and late night departures for tardy public transportation did me in.  I was constantly working on or getting over a raging cold or fever.  And then, it really hit me.  The gentle sound of maracas fluttering in my lungs when I would hack and cough refused to go away.  One month turned into two then three.  Finally, I went to the doctor.  Bronchitis.  Meds.  Late night, sheet soaking sweats and insomnia.  I was terrified I had something else, something fatal. 

The other backdrop to that winter was finances.  Portland had always been stingy for me when it came to work.  Too few jobs and too much competition spelled hard financial times.  As my body shuddered and crumbled that winter, so did my spirits. 

A friend of mine mentioned a few months before this particular day, that she did public relations work for some guy she thought I should meet, thought I had something in common with.  He was an author and a public speaker.  So what?  Okay, fine, maybe I should meet him one day, but one day wasn’t soon enough for me.  And it was the farthest thing from my mind in late January/early February of 2005.  I was broke.  I was a train wreck.  I couldn’t pay the rent and I thought I was dying.  Little did I know, I was.

I woke up one morning dead.  I was done.  On fire, the last blaze before the complete flame out.  Rage, at my lot in life and at God poured out of me like kerosene. I began speaking to God like I would a cab driver who had run me back up on the curb, cursing, defaming, demanding that God show me a sign.  SHOW ME A SIGN.  NOW!!!  This was at nine in the morning.

At noon, my phone rang. It was my friend, Nikki.  “Do you remember that guy I was telling you about, Kevin?  Well, he needs a personal assistant…” The rest of the call was a blur.  God answers fast, I thought.

I met the Katalyst a week or two later, as his travel schedule kept him very busy.  We began our work together, first mundane tasks like shipping out “dream bands” to people who’d seen him speak.  Later, because he’d remembered my interest in video, he granted me the opportunity of a lifetime: to travel with him, to Philly and San Francisco, later, to Cape Town, Johannesburg, Tokyo and Paris, observing, shooting and editing video, experiencing the life of a Katalyst. Experiencing the finest kind of life, a life that I wanted.

There’s a great line that I read somewhere: “once you’ve lived in Paris, you’re unable to live anywhere else, including Paris…”  I think there’s a lot of truth in that about Paris and about working with Kevin as well.  How can you ever get used to the life mundane, the nine-to-five, after you’ve been transported to another dimension? 

Dreaming helps.  Actually, dreaming is essential and perhaps that is why it can be difficult to maintain in circumstances that actually deliver what you are looking for: they require LOTS of dreaming and faith and nurturing and dreaming and faith and… 

If there’s one thing that I can take to the bank from my time with Kevin, its that dreaming -  outrageously, outlandishly - can create reality.  All you have to do is continue to bring your attention to your desire - with great discipline, dedication, responsibility and motivation.  And whose life sums that bit of insight up better?!

Thanks KC and all the best to you & the Fam in ‘09!!

Lubangakene aka Julian J.

 

What’s your Red Rubber Ball?!

August 27, 2008 | 2 comments

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The Wednesday Monster is our..uh, huh, hey wait a minute, argh….

”...Do not attempt to adjust your (computer screen).
We are in control of the transmission.
If we wish to make it louder, we will turn up the volume.
If we want it softer, we will turn it down.
We control the horizontal and the vertical…”

We have preempted our regularly scheduled Wednesday Monster post for a very special announcement:

Kurt Perschke‘s Red Ball Project has once again commandeered the cityscape of another defenseless metropolis…This time, the RRB is taking over Chicago!

Artist Kurt Perschke’s RedBall Project, an ongoing site-specific installation, has been traveling the globe, adopting cities as its canvas. From Barcelona to Busan to Sydney, the sculptural performance has garnered public, critical and media attention worldwide. From September 1 - 25, 2008, The RedBall Project Chicago sponsored by Target will migrate throughout Chicago’s unique architectural landscape and history—each location carefully considered by the artist. Site locations include Millennium Park, Spertus Museum, Hyde Park Art Center, IIT’s McCormick Tribune Campus Center, the Chicago Cultural Center, and more. The RedBall will also be found atop bridges and wedged into alleys, as Perschke’s decisions address not only architecture and urban space, but also anticipate the flow of people, traffic and the observer’s eye.

Follow one of the hypertext links above to track the RBP as it weaves through the Windy City.  And of course, we will be providing occasional updates throughout its run, so stay tuned!

We will now relinquish our control of your computer screen.

 

What’s your Red Rubber Ball?!