Seattle - Day 3: Fremont hippies + Wyeth at SAM + Psychic Readings

It poured again this morning. It poured so hard that for several minutes I thought, 'this is it. I am done with Seattle. I could end this vacation now--with my wet pants sticking to my cold legs, I could leave and never look back.' But then I went into yoga, back at the Seattle Athletic Club--stretched, strengthened, and perhaps took a doze during meditation--and emerged out into clear skies. Because things work out that way. They absolutely have to when you're on vacation.

Revived by the nice[r] weather, I ventured, via public transportation, to Fremont--a neighborhood that an acquaintance had described as 'artsy,' and some girls at the nail salon yesterday described as a 'hippy area.' Just goes to show you...I'm not sure what exactly...something about perspective.

(It should be noted that Seattle's bus system is terrific--strange, yes--but terrific. There's a 'ride free' zone throughout part of downtown and after that it's just $1.75. The busdrivers are nice. They are helpful. They are totally different from NYC busdrivers.)

First on the Fremont agenda was the Fremont Troll. The troll was a community art project designed in 1990. And just like the '90s, it is ugly, self-indulgent and big. After taking a couple of pictures and watching parents send their young children up the troll for photo opps, I waited. I thought perhaps the troll might spout lava or at least spit up a chewed up villager. It didn't. So I left.

The town of Fremont is everything everyone had said. Artsy and hippy-ish. And sort of awesome. Not to mention, strewn with fantastic foliage.

 

Fremont claims the Center of the Universe. Which is curious as I had always thought that I was the center of the universe.

On Saturday afternoons, the young locals of Fremont apparently come out to square dance.

I asked a store clerk for a lunch recommdation. She told me about a vegetarian restaurant, Silent Heart Nest. She wasn't sure 'what nationality the food was' because its 'like religious or something.' Turns out, according to the restaurant's webpage, that they are followers of a certain Sri Chinmoy. Which isn't actually a religion. But rather a spiritual group (which clearly implements the white woman in sari look). Bordering on a cult (I'm not saying...I'm just saying.)

Because no trip to a metropolis is complete without a visit to the local art museum, I had to head back downtown to the Seattle Art Museum, more familiarly known (check this out, I'm just like a local now) as SAM.

Here were some of the my faves from SAM...

George Segal - Woman on a Bed

Do-Ho Smith - Someone (Made with 40,000 dog tags. Count 'em if you don't believe me.)

I sat down to watch a video on making beads. But secretly I just sat down so that I could stop walking.

Jeff Koons - St. John the Baptist

A man. Viewing a Wyeth.

I also came across a psychic in a last walk through the Pike Place Market. And as I had had a premonition about seeing a psychic while I was here, I took this as a sign.

The first thing she asked me was if I had a problem with my right eardrum. Um, yeah--yeah I do. I have had trouble in my right ear since I was a child and have a hole in my right eardrum from a botched procedure. Wow, I hearted you from the word eardrum, psychic lady.

The rest of her reading lasted an hour. This had something, I'm sure, to do with the fact that she was charging me in 15 minute increments.

Though I can't reveal the rest of our reading which will remain between her, I, and her computerized astro charts, I can tell you that for more pics from Day 3, you can visit the online album. It will make you say 'ooh,' 'ah,' 'fantastico.'

And now, with the hoots and hollers of drunk Belltown residents outside my window...goodnight.

xx * Jessie B. R.