George Lange Takeover
It's a fine day to have our dear friend George Lange take over the Moxie update......here you go.......
At dawn my lover comes to me
And tells me of her dreams
With no attempts to shovel the glimpse
Into the ditch of what each one means
At times I think there are no words
But these to tell what's true
And there are no truths outside the Gates of Eden
Last Monday Bob Dylan’s 80th birthday. Are we celebrating all he has done or the fact that he even got to 80 in one piece? Dylan is from another world, certainly not ours. He is made from a very special cloth, certainly nothing we were ever measured for.
When we are young we work with an urgency that would make you think we don’t have much time left. Dylan certainly did. But then he kept going, and evolving and staying honest inside of his Eden. I want to be 80 one day.
Dylan shoveled more than a glimpse into the ditch. He could stare right through you. He shared the part of himself you never allow yourself to examine. And the beauty of it all is that now I have to go back and change tenses from past to present. Dylan is 80!
We all curate out all the best stuff when we share our lives. Why is that? We share things people already know. This is the view from the mountains. This is what my coffee looks like. This is the snow in my backyard just like the snow in your backyard. When was the last time you shared a dream with a friend - let alone what it meant? When was the last time you talked about the kiss that comes through the darkness, across the bed and onto your lips like a homing pigeon at night? When was the last time you admitted needing anything? When was the last time you gave something away without being asked? When was the last time you put your hands on anyone’s cheeks and said, “Such beauty!” When was the last time you cashed a check that had gone through the laundry?
After a year licking our lips behind masks. After walking our dogs to the other side of the street because we were scared to get close to our neighbors. After eating at home for a whole year and doing all those dishes, we realize what a big production breakfast is. We got used to hiding and now everything seems so much more….more beautiful. Suddenly we realize how much we express with our lips and our hugs. Suddenly a fresh warm loaf of bread is like a bar of gold. Getting to see our favorite farmer’s face weighing the arugula is like the sun. Old friends slowly emerging from their fallout shelters and finally we are talking in person. We still can’t reach out to taste a friend’s tears, but maybe that is coming soon, too. This is not a time to rush things too much. It is awkward starting to dance again.
After a year in our homes we realize how much crap we have around us, so much of which we will never touch again. In the spirit of great generosity I want to share this story from this morning.
from Kraynick Bike Shop’s website:
In the 1940s, Jerry Kraynick’s dad—Steve Kraynick—made a habit out of picking up old, wayward bicycles that he’d find in junkyards on his way home from his job at the steel mill. In his spare time, in the evening hours, he taught himself how to repair and recycle his rusty old gems. Then he sold one bicycle. And another. And another. And before long, he opened his very own storefront and bike shop and Kraynick’s became a Pittsburgh staple—a store he passed along to his son.
Since 1946—for the last 70 years—Kraynick's bike shop has been a unique home for bike lovers of all likes. Whether they’re Pittsburgh natives, college students, or transplants from distant lands, whether they're newcomers who don’t know how to hold a wrench or seasoned gear heads, Kraynick’s is a welcome home to anyone and everyone, home to all who ride and all who want to ride. It’s a place where people from all walks of life come together because of the bicycle.
I got a call this morning from my friend Rocco who is the next generation of owners at Kraynick’s Bike Shop in Pittsburgh. This is not a fancy bike shop with $500 kids bikes - they don’t even sell new bikes. Rocco said he had a bike for my son Asher. He said someone had given it as a gift to his son, so he could not sell it to me, but he could loan it to me as long as it fit Asher. I went right over to Rocco’s house to get the bike. Rocco was holding the most beautiful baby, born during C19 - his name is Spike. Rocco’s garage was teeming with bikes that he said came from the dump. Some were incredibly good - some junkers - all would find homes. Some of the bikes will be cleaned & tuned up to sell at Kraynick’s. Some will be left in poor neighborhoods for kids to discover. Some will be sent to Africa. In the front was a 24” beauty - bright lime green, fat tires, all tuned up for Asher.
I gave back what I give - taking pictures of Spike who gave me a deep serious look from months of not seeing anyone outside of his family. Then I got Spike to smile.
When I went to art school they told me that it cannot be art if someone is smiling in the picture. After this last year every single smile I see seems like a work of art.
George Lange is a father, husband and photographer from Pittsburgh. We became friends in Boulder during his short time living here. His impact on my approach to art, humanity and life is large. George sees life through a deep sharp lens that penetrates and transcends the BS, fog and smoke.
For Moxie customers: All prints on George's new website are 25% off with the code: MOXIELOVE. including the shot of Dylan's Rolling Thunder Review at the top of this post.
ALSO - George will be in Boulder mid July for Portrait sessions. Contact george@langestudio.com
Here's a sweet star studded concert for Bob Dylan. As part of this concert, the Watkins Family Hour gathered to mark the occasion and share some of their music as well as some of Dylan's.Last week Nick & Helen hosted an incredibly fun Dylan birthday bash and let folks play a song on their hallowed E-Town Hall stage. It was a blast.
Highway 61 Revisited