Tuesday, June 12, 2007

PINK

I've been needing a little bit of good karma, and what better place to find it than at PINK? PINK is an installation art piece, and although it feels like it was birthed in Portland, it actually originated in Autin, TX (the other weird place). PINK is in PDX as part of the month-long bicycle celebration known as "Pedalpalooza". Create your love note (or notes) to be delivered in Portland by a PINK bicycle messenger. My lack of good karma has reduced me to riding Matthew's bicycle--probably reducing my karma even further by depriving him of riding during these oh-so-gorgeous days of June. Two (count 'em) bicycles have been unceremoniously stolen from me within the past week, so I'm feeling a little like a lost puppy ("have you seen my bicycle?"). I need some bicycle luv. Matthew's bike is a little big for me, but if I adjust the seat down a couple inches, I can manage the short trip to PINK, and probably a follow-on stop at Whole Foods. I have to wear shoes with clips, though, since Matthew's pedals don't accommodate street shoes easily. No worries, I have sandals with the right clips, and it's a sunny day in Portland, with temperatures in the mid-70's. I grab a pannier for the post-PINK food stop, and head out onto Naito Parkway for the ride to 318 SW Taylor. After crossing Naito and dipping into Old Town Chinatown, I turn south on 3rd. Along the way, my spirits are lifted by seeing the images of bicyclists that have been "personalized" by by our DOT staff. They've added hairstyles, hats and (happy) facial expressions to the standard-issue bicycle-lane bicyclist icons. The weather today, along with Portland's bicycle-friendly climate have coaxed dozens of riders to share the road with me today, and now I'm beginning to feel happy. Happy to be pedaling along with other cyclists, motorists and buses. Happy to smell the jasmine in full bloom as I pass the Portland Classical Chinese Garden on Everett. I pass out of the Alphabet Streets (Everett, Davis, Couch, Burnside and Ankeny) and cross into the Arbor District (Ash, Pine, Oak). In no time I'm in the Presidential Borough, turn right on Taylor and start looking for PINK's HQ. Not hard to find, either. Pink a-frame signboards on the sidewalk alert passersby that this is the spot. The location has been donated for the duration of the installation, but the storefront seems "Taylor"-made for PINK. Big windows across the front beckon all who walk past to stop, wonder and perhaps walk in. I'm immediately enchanted by the place, and as I step across the threshold, "Martini" greets me with a friendly "welcome to PINK!". I declare my intent to put my "love on the line", and am directed to follow the dotted pink duct tape line to "Reception". A lovely young woman in a white jumpsuit gives me a quick intro to how the process works, and I head down to create my love note. I pass on the in-house poet, on hand to provide inspirational help for the prose-aicly challenged. I decide to wait for a manual typewriter to open up--how often do you get to use one of these? After typing out my messages, I mark the delivery address for the messengers, and pop my notes into pink-be-ribboned bottles and hand them to a PINK staffer. Above our heads was the "love line"--a hand-powered, clothesline and bicycle wheel pulley system. The staffer added tags, attached the bottles to the pulley, and we all yelled "love on the line" as my glass vials-o-love were sent up the line for delivery. Ah, love. I feel so much better already! After the PINK stop, I head on to the Farmer's Market and join the throng of shoppers enjoying the day, the sun, and the fruits of someone else's labor. I restrain myself from buying everything that looks good (it all does), and come home with fresh veggies that will last me until the next market--which happens to be Wednesday night. I find that my notes were all delivered in the next 24 hours, and am basking in the glow of requited love and PINK wishes. Is my Karma being mended? Will my own bicycle return to me? Stay tuned.