For the next month, we've taken over @warehouserow. What a beautiful space they've got in Chattanooga. #ramblings
Dispatch from the Ace Hotel this morning.
Drinking coffee, listening to jazz, getting fired the heck up about our show next weekend in Chattanooga. Summer always ends kinda crazy (in the last month I've been to Manhattan three times and North Carolina twice), and I'm a big fan of making the waning days count.
We're headed down for the Ole Miss vs. Vanderbilt game on college football's opening night. We'll head into the stadium after we watch my wife's Heels take on the Gamecocks. And that next morning we'll drive over to Chattanooga to make sure the press is set up for y'all to pull a color of our first Chattanooga print. She's going to be rad. And we'd love to have you come by.
How about you RSVP here if you'd like to come along. Or visit Craftedbysouthernhands.com.
Looking forward to seeing y'all on Southern soil.
One of our friends down in Southhaven, Mississippi let us know he'd seen some of our prints turned up in Delta Magazine.
He was kind enough to send one along so we could see for ourselves. At which point we realized that we were looking at the house of Ann Marie Varnell and Bradley Gordon - two of Oxford's most stylish and influential tastemakers. We were stoked to know we were up in their pad.
And it is always nice to get a magazine from home.
I'm doing some Chattanooga research for an upcoming show we've got planned in the Scenic City at the end of August. Which means we will be making a print. A print about what, I'm not sure. Hopefully if there's a train in it she will be the best damn train you've ever seen. Probably won't be, so we'll be avoiding trains.
Came upon the name Robert Cravens. He was an ironmaster. And a man, like myself, who liked a view. So, about halfway up Lookout Mountain, in 1855, he built his house on a rock outcropping. The house got pretty beat up during the Battle Above the Clouds. But she made a comeback, and today is there, just glistening on the side of the mountain.
And if someone would be willing to rent it to Old Try, why, we'd move to Chattanooga in a heartbeat. And invite all y'all up to share in the view.
by Jim Harrison
On Easter morning all over America
the peasants are frying potatoes in bacon grease.
We're not supposed to have "peasants"
but there are tens of millions of them
frying potatoes on Easter morning,
cheap and delicious with catsup.
If Jesus were here this morning he might
be eating fried potatoes with my friend
who has a '51 Dodge and a '72 Pontiac.
When his kids ask why they don't have
a new car he says, "these cars were new once
and now they are experienced."
He can fix anything and when rich folks
call to get a toilet repaired he pauses
extra hours so that they can further
learn what we're made of.
I told him that in Mexico the poor say
that when there's lightning the rich
think that God is taking their picture.
Like peasants everywhere in the history
of the world ours can't figure out why
they're getting poorer. Their sons join
the army to get work being shot at.
Your ideals are invisible clouds
so try not to suffocate the poor,
the peasants, with your sympathies.
They know that you're staring at them.