Bonnie Hawthorne

just saying…

I guess that a natural progression of my inclination to talk to strangers is to take pictures of them. These two were leaving Salvation Mountain as I was arriving. They were the perfect visual gateway drug for this trippy place. Her name was Nancy. He said she was shy. I thought she was really beautiful. They let me take a few photos of them. This was the last one in the series. I like it because she had relaxed enough to really own her beauty but he still seems very protective of her.

I love his buttons. I wonder if he’s continued to wear them since the 70s or if he picked up the habit again at some point. I recognize one as David Bowie from The Man Who Fell to Earth. My friend Mary Wilson had that one, I think.

Maybe they were in a band. Maybe they were great. Maybe they still are! All I know is that they took a trip on a Sunday afternoon to visit weirdness. As did I.

Anyway… Salvation Mountain. theMike asks what all that color behind them is.

Well, it’s this. Part folk art, part love letter to Jesus, part environmental hazard. It’s the obsessive work of Mr. Leonard Knight who has been dumping gallons of paint onto gallons of paint for almost 30 years in an effort to spread his message that God is love. And as he told me about 16 times, all God wants is for us to love, and to love simply.

Inside, there are trees made from old tires filled with adobe then topped off with branches he finds in the desert.

It’s a super cool place and a beautiful work of art. But the visit left me feeling sad. We’d stayed for so long on our self-guided tour that Leonard forgot we were there. The megawatt smile was turned off, the stories about Huell Howser and all the other visitors had stopped. At the end of the day, there’s no one to share God’s message with. He’s just an old man permanently camping in the desert between Slab City and Niland, two of the saddest places in America.

I’ve been spending a lot of time looking at, talking to and in general being in love with the Camellia tree right outside my front door. Oh, and of course taking pictures of it.

This was during the full moon the other night. It was about a 30 second exposure. Long enough for a helicopter to do a U-turn over Montrose (that’s the circle in the sky.)

We had yet another big rain . Yeah, I know. This is a very traditional shot. But pretty, nonetheless.

My friend Mark said he likes the way Camellias drop whole flowers. I agree. Makes for a treacherous sidewalk, though.

Admittedly, this is probably funniest to the parties involved, i.e. Plant Whisperer Rebecca Pontius and me, but if you’re susceptible to contagious laughter (as I am, obviously) then enjoy!

UPDATE: Because several people have asked, yes, that is me laughing and doing the terrible camerawork and keeping poor Rebecca from delivering a better performance. And no, this is not what I would consider to be an example of my “professional” editing work. And yes, that guy was a stranger who happened by on his bike and couldn’t resist making a flower talk. Who could?

Technically, it’s not Spring until late March, but California is always a step ahead, right? Why, at this rate, we may be the first state to declare bankruptcy! But let’s not dwell on such troubles when there are pretty things blooming outside. The trees are still dormant, but this is the greenest pre-spring I’ve seen in a long time. ¡Viva El Niño!

Last Valentine’s day, a heartbroken friend and I ended up in a dive bar in the valley. We tried to make the evening festive by putting umbrellas in our drinks—even though he was drinking Bushmills and I red wine. The bartender had also made an attempt by decorating the place, coming in early to hang the hearts and streamers. The result was sad, like an old man in lipstick and eye shadow.

Anyway, this sign, on the men’s room door, goes out to all my fellow single friends on this most made up of holidays. May you be immune to all the Kay’s Jewelers and Hallmark ads on TV, may you not be surrounded by overly gushy couples—and by all means buy yourself a box of chocolates from See’s Candies.

XXOO

The “Four Storms of the Apocalypse” have cleared, leaving memories of unusual weather (a tornado in Ventura??? NINE INCHES of rain in my neighborhood???) some dramatic driving moments (hydroplaning! wheeeee!) and a dusting of snow on the burned mountains—which, for the most part, managed to stay put. Suddenly, the hills are green, the sky is blue and life is good. It’ll be spring any minute now.

P.S. that ‘think blue” is a sign on the hill near Dodger Stadium, not a subliminal message.

The storm that all the news channels have been breathlessly predicting arrived last night. I had an appointment on the other side of the county so I had to venture out in it. All morning, I’d heard sirens from every direction so was ready for the worst on the freeways. Luckily because it’s Martin Luther King Day (BTW, I hate “MLK”—he wasn’t a fast food franchise) traffic was not bad. I hydroplaned a little on the 2, but the time I got to the 10, I barely needed my wipers.

Coming back up the hill was another story.

Let’s just say that on days like this, I’m glad I have all-wheel drive. There’s an inch of streaming water running down all of the roads, with deep puddles in the intersections. And because of last summer’s Station fire, there’s an awful lot of mud.

People in my area now know that these white barricades are called “K-rails.”

The smell of ashy mud is pretty overwhelming. Much like a doused campfire x1000

Hard to tell from this photo, but this is mostly mud. This was taken on the site dedicated to the people who died in the 1934 New Year’s Day flood, which followed the November 1933 Pickens fire. That flood and mud flow was the reason they put in these dandy washes and a bunch of catch basins that look like big sink drains. Fingers crossed that the catch basins don’t clog and that at least some of this storm heads down the hill.

Here’s a super cool photo after the 1934 disaster:

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-then25-2009jan25-pg,0,827747.photogallery

and a lil history

http://articles.latimes.com/2009/jan/25/local/me-then25

Today’s one of those days when the dumbest little thing makes me happy. I spent longer than I’d like to say staring at my new shower curtain, which I hung on the clothesline to air out. Being made of PEVA, it doesn’t smell as bad as the usual vinyl shower curtains, but I hung it out out of habit. And I’m happy I did.

I can’t wait to see it at sunset.

So the new used mountain bike is fantastic (thanks Freddie!). Took my first real dirt ride in years today. The sky was blue, the ground was dry, the cows were friendly. I took this photo of my rad pedal gash with my phone at the end. No idea why it distorted this way, but it’s true that my legs did feel a little noodley.