Where inspiration rains
By Sean Eshelman and Jarett Boskovich
All of us are artists in our own right. As artists, when we are not at work we are out in the world; taking in sights, sounds and smells, all of which inspire the creative soul. Uptown is an art-saturated community, raw with the energy of emotion manifested in the mediums in which we work and everywhere one turns galleries, exhibits, art shows and creative expression abound. Even the streets upon which we walk are covered in the artifacts of artistic energy, from intricate murals, down to the most rudimentary graffiti tagged upon rusty metal transformers.
On our night out we sought a different sort of stimulation than that found at bars, clubs and neighborhood parties. We turned our sights inward and outward to Little Italy and North Park, where two art walks, Kettner Nights and Ray at Night promised to amplify our creative spirits.
We wrapped up in jackets and headed down the hill to Little Italy. We opted to park at the water’s edge and made the walk until we reached Kettner Blvd.
The festive storefronts and restaurants of Little Italy appeared, patrons’ voices murmured inside to the tune of Frank Sinatra, Andrea Bocelli and the occasional accordion. A growing number of people were collecting on the streets, indicating that we were in fact on the right track. The bite of wind was increasing as we approached the first boutique participating in the event, entering just as rain began to fall.
Mixture, a boutique focused on contemporary art and design, was our first stop. At its entrance we were greeted by an extensive collection of eclectic gifts, stationary and a wide array of books ranging in topic from sustainable living to do-it-yourself craft projects. At first glance it was much like the entrance of shops like Urban Outfitters, where similar displays of books and novel gifts tempt window shoppers in from outside. Looking beyond this consumer trickery, my eyes were captured by a series of clear glass orbs suspended over the book displays. Each contained various succulents, rocks and other hardy foliage, creating floating terra-scapes. Farther into the store, we walked among a variety of modern furniture and artwork, emphasizing current trends in contemporary design and minimalist in nature. A friend of mine, a carpenter and proud craftsman, found inspiration in a low-set, four-post Feng Shui bed with solid teak material, fit for simple yet discerning taste. “I think I’ve found my next project” he said, with wheels turning. The artwork on the walls adhered to a certain abstract aesthetic; a particular piece by Stephanie Paige reminiscent of Mission Bay’s eastward skyline held my attention, as it reminded me of early morning drives southbound on Interstate 5.
We continued our walk and found ourselves at the Perry L. Meyer Gallery of Fine Art. Recluse Clay Walker was the current exhibit, showcasing the artists’ wide range of style. His sculpture “Angel” possessed the ability to exude raw, almost violent abstracts with brightly colored greens, yellows and reds that left the head spinning more than the complementary red wine in my plastic cup. His unique fascination of the female form was evident in pieces like “Dancer” or “Woodcut” which processed a maternal nature while exuding an appreciation for modern design.
Upstairs from the main exhibit we wandered between a variety of local artist exhibits, from the most passionate of expressions to commercial wedding photographers. In silence we walked in appreciation of these artists who laid their souls bare for strangers. We sipped on wine offered by the artists, allowing us to partake in the centuries old tradition of spirited enjoyment of creative expression.
Our thirst for more of man’s best creations drove us to the confines of Ray Street the following night for the monthly Ray At Night art walk. A small area with big energy and expression all around. It continued to drizzle as it had the night before. Rain tends to have a kryptonite-like effect on San Diegans, and only the bravest of souls were out among artists on this night. Those who did defy the elements did so with steady grins and simply held their companions closer for warmth. Indeed, we built our own reality of the situation and made the most of the serene and quiet atmosphere found in and out of each sleepy gallery.
I was most eager to pay a visit to Cirello Gallery first, as I had been thoroughly impressed by artist Matthew Cirello in previous encounters. I do not normally have much attention for jewelry, but the simplicity of his designs in sterling silver, copper and rosewood changed my ways. Their eloquent, circular designs could as much be an ancient relic of centuries past as in a fine art gallery in urban San Diego.
Among the various jewelry displays I noticed psychedelic glass starfish of various colors and textures throughout the gallery. Master glassblower John Gibbons, an old soul behind young eyes was the man responsible. His work included ornate sculptures, small necklaces and jewelry and even a glass snake, reminding me of the snake of Eden.
Jarett had yet to arrive, so my companion and I decided to hunker down in the warmth of the Mystic Water Kava Bar and Yoga Studio. A large stucco tree wound its way throughout the space and surrounded a circular bar around the center where patrons were gathered and laughter and energetic conversation pooled. Beyond the bar was a tranquil space dedicated to meditation and the practice of yoga and the enlightened smile of Buddha that taunted us from afar. Having never tried Kava before I was eager to learn more. The owner, Will, greeted us with a drowsy smile and offered explanation of Kava and its medicinal properties. A sacrament to tribes in the Amazon, he explained, Kava is a root ground up and made into a tea. It contains anaesthetic and anti-anxiety properties and can give the individual a sense of euphoria and enhanced focus on their surroundings. The tea is served in hallowed coconut shells and usually consumed communally with a toast of “bulah”.
“You’ll most likely feel a bit of numbness in your throat so don’t freak out,” he warned. “But if you don’t, let me know so I can pour you another shell.”
With the explanation done we were served our shells filled with a murky grey liquid that smelled of rainwater. The others at the bar were also served and Will raised his shell. “Bulah,” we all toasted and downed our tea. Its flavor was earthy but by no means dirty. It reminded me more of the smell of a city street after a light rain. Within seconds I felt a tingling, numbing sensation in my throat and chest. It wasn’t enough to cause alarm, in fact, with every second I found my emotions settling into calmness and a sense of well being and I suddenly felt the need to converse with like-minded souls. Books were strewn about the bar and surrounding tables covering topics of spirituality, philosophy and esotericism.
With our thoughts sharp yet moods relaxed, we settled into conversation and absorbed the atmosphere. Before long Jarett arrived and shared in our comfort. We engaged with our new-found community and chatted happily amongst ourselves over additional shells of Kava. After a few more laughs and pictures taken, we thanked our host and made our way out.
A few doors down the San Diego Art Department was showcasing the work of Bethany Barton, whose work in the interconnectivity of human relationships captured my attention for a better part of the night. There was a raw emotion to her paintings which dealt with almost child-like experiences of both the heart and brain. It reminded me that despite our education, experiences and responsibility, we all possess a childlike wonder that both helps and hinders us. Her artistic streams of consciousness drove home the importance of experience and acceptance of our own insecurities. Let us embrace the unknown.
We continued walking outside the confines of Ray Street and simply enjoyed our mere existence along the sidewalk of University Avenue. No destination in mind, we talked of matters of creativity, our own aspirations and what our impact of this life would be. All the while not a shred of doubt crossed our mental paths. We were stuck in relaxation and contentment and ready to tuck ourselves in for the night. With a night well spent, we said our goodbyes and departed.
