BEGIN:VCALENDAR
VERSION:2.0
PRODID:-//The Open Road:  a learning community - ECPv6.15.3//NONSGML v1.0//EN
CALSCALE:GREGORIAN
METHOD:PUBLISH
X-ORIGINAL-URL:https://openroadpdx.com
X-WR-CALDESC:Events for The Open Road:  a learning community
REFRESH-INTERVAL;VALUE=DURATION:PT1H
X-Robots-Tag:noindex
X-PUBLISHED-TTL:PT1H
BEGIN:VTIMEZONE
TZID:America/Los_Angeles
BEGIN:DAYLIGHT
TZOFFSETFROM:-0800
TZOFFSETTO:-0700
TZNAME:PDT
DTSTART:20260308T100000
END:DAYLIGHT
BEGIN:STANDARD
TZOFFSETFROM:-0700
TZOFFSETTO:-0800
TZNAME:PST
DTSTART:20261101T090000
END:STANDARD
END:VTIMEZONE
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20260626
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20260702
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260623T174456Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260703T032141Z
UID:6323-1782432000-1782950399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Will Hornyak at Hotel Zags  6/26-7/24
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nDear Friends\,\n\n    I’ve got a fun and free (!)  storytelling gig I wanted to let you know about.  I’m at the Hotel Zags in downtown Portland  the next five Friday evenings from 7-9 p.m.  I’ll be in their spacious outdoor seating area sharing stories with whomever drops by.  They have several gas fire places\, comfortable seating areas and a full restaurant and bar.  Happy hour runs from 6-8 p.m.   So\, stop by for a drink\, some vittles and a story or two.  This is a very informal event so I’ll be drawing from a variety of tales\, songs and poems to suit the moment and the audience.  I’ve had three evenings at the Zags so far and they’ve gone well\, but I’d love to have some of my own friends attend.  Hope you can stop by.  \n\nAll the best\, \nWill   \n\nWill at Hotel Zags:  \n\n515 SW Clay St.\, Portland\, OR  97201\n\nFridays\, June 26-July 24\,  7-9 p.m.
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/will-hornyak-at-hotel-zags-6-26-7-24/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/png:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/unnamed.png
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20260702
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20260806
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260703T022749Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260803T223327Z
UID:6360-1782950400-1785974399@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  7/2/26
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nJuly 2\, 2026 \n  \nJill wrote: \n  \nI have often mentioned that if you want a master class in noticing the magic in the ordinary take a walk with a two-year old. Here are some details that might bring that to light: \n  \nWe got down the front stairs at Eliot and Britt’s house and paused so Edie could snap the buttons of her raincoat. She got them off at first and redid them. Then we opened the yellow duck-handle umbrella and I crouched down so she could put it over my head. At the sidewalk we noticed some crows socializing so we cawed to them.  \n  \nFirst Block \n  \nAt the alley we looked both ways and Edie certified there were no cars so we turned in. There was a grate so she walked back and forth over it several times and bent over to look at the leaves trapped below. \nThe pockets with snaps on her coat caught her attention and she felt inside to see if anything was in them. Crows chasing each other across the alley distracted her and we watched them settle on the telephone line above. Then Edie found some mud to step in until a bee flew by and we watched it disappear into a jasmine bush. \nMore mud play since she has her sparkle boots on today.  \nA pile of black dirt on a crack suggested ants so we watched that for a while but no ants emerged. Turns out they were a little ways down the alley\, or a few were so we gave them our attention.  \nBees/ants/mud for the next block. And squatting down for pinecones\, exclaiming over bugs in gravel\, picking the gravel up and watching it drop\, riffling through it\, finding a stone\, wiping sandy hands on me\, and greeting dogs and their walkers.  \nThen we came to a street\, checked both ways\, held hands and crossed. \n  \nSecond block \n  \nIn the first bush we checked for spider webs. Then Edie ran ahead\, looking for puddles\, but didn’t find any.  \nAt the end of the alley we checked one backyard to see if the chickens were out. No chickens but a monster truck was parked close by! \n  \nCrossing to the park \n  \nAlberta Park had more rocks/gravel to pick up and watch drop. Sometimes Edie holds up her hands with little bits of something on them and I say she can rub her hands on my raincoat. I’m never sure what makes those bits bothersome since often she’ll happily play in dirt\, get her hands dirty\, and not notice.  \nAs we walked on the sidewalk Edie ran ahead and found a big leaf to wave and used this fan to wave at cars and make a breeze for me. We cawed at more noisy crows. She dawdled behind and yelled for me to wait.  \nWe found some sticky sap on the trees we were passing but didn’t touch it\, remembering when we did and it was hard to get off.  \nWe found a pole with stickers and used our knuckles to make a rhythmic beat.  \nWe went up and down the embankment four times. Edie picked a tiny ground cover daisy-like flower and gave it to me. Then took it and rubbed the petals and yellow middle. She held it out in front of her and said\, three times\, “Here bees\, I have a flower for you.” \nWe noticed some folks setting up for a garage sale\, passed a doggie that scared Edie so she avoided it by going up the embankment\, and after I followed her we walked to a baseball diamond. No one was there. We climbed on the bleachers.  \nI sat on a dry part and Edie told me to get up. When I said no we began a refrain of “No” “Yes” “No” “Yes” and I noticed her voice was getting higher\, like it was a song. Then she slid over and tried to push me off but got bored and swung her legs instead. Then told me “That’s my side” and hit the aluminum seat with a big bang. It made a very satisfying sound. She flipped over and laid on her tummy and swung her legs. Explored the bleachers. Smelled dog poo. We wondered where it was and looked at the trash can\, which had a metal top that made great sounds – a bit like a steel drum. Edie climbed up and down the bleachers\, had me swing her off\, got back on her tummy to swing her legs\, noticed trucks passing by\, and made use of her boots to clomp noisily on the aluminum seats.  \nThen it was time to continue and we went down the slope to the sidewalk – sideways since it was steep. We followed safe protocol checking on cars as we crossed Ainsworth Street. On the final part home we noticed the dogwoods were parched and I lifted her up to feel and hear the leaves. Passing a Corvette in a driveway she rubbed the headlight and hit the hood to hear the sound\, which was pronounced a good one.  \nFinally we were on our block and checking out the bees in Caroline’s yard. Mostly bumblebees\, busy gathering pollen except we noticed some seemed to be napping on the flower heads. Edie took a flower and waved it back and forth to disperse the water in its pockets but I mentioned it would wake the bee resting nearby. We admired Caroline’s daisies and how they were a bigger version of the tiny one she had picked earlier.  \nOne final check as we crossed Cramer Street to our house and we were home\, an hour after our adventure began.  \n  \n—Jill Littlewood \n* \nSymmetry \n  \nEvery morning I walk Wags up on the irrigation canal. Sometimes it’s a rambunctious romp\, but more often it’s a mesmerizing\, rhythmic\, calming time of wonder and discovery. Lately I’ve been struck by symmetry: the beautiful chevron patterns on a clover leaf\, the tessellated bark of an oak\, the bilateral blue of the butterfly wings\, feathers on a duck’s back\, veins on a leaf\, a fern… \n  \nAnd then there’s the miraculous Fibonacci Sequence. I remember being told about the Fibonacci Sequence and the Golden Ratio when my mom and dad explained it to me at twelve years old. Some parents give their kids the sex talk when they’re that age; mine told me about THE FIBONACCI SEQUENCE! and THE GOLDEN RATIO!  I imagine you all know about it\, but I remember being blown away\, thinking\, Really??? Wow!!!  Are you sure???   Well\, yes\, it’s pretty amazing and wonderful. The pine cone\, the pineapple\, sunflower\, snail shell\, flower petals…the list goes on.  \n  \nAnd what does that have to do with Peace Love Happiness and Understanding? I just know that when I’m paying attention to these small and wondrous things\, I feel all of the above. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nMy Hauntings \n  \nI am arrested by the beautiful\, \nStopped in my tracks by every \nhummingbird or honeybee veering \nin a blur through the somber conduct \nof the modern world\, by spring trees \nspilling their light in a war zone\, buds \nbright on splintered branches\, a spindle \nof sunlight through storm cloud cover \nthat touches down on the wreckage we \nhave made of earth. What can I do \nto recover honorable despair when \nconfronted by the stubborn kindness \nof strangers\, or the way a moth \nkeeps flying toward the moon? \nVery soon I must get serious \nbut first this sip of old delight. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nRecently\, I decided to immerse myself in the subject of Beauty. It’s been wonderful! One of the inspirations for this project has been Kathleen Raine’s essay “The Use of the Beautiful.” Here are the first two paragraphs: \n  \nWhat do we\, at the present time\, ask of poetry? I may be mistaken about precisely what is asked\, but I think I am not mistaken in the conclusion that the present times does not ask — or receive — enough. Much verse published seems to set itself no goal beyond description\, sometimes pleasing\, but just as often of displeasing things seen or felt. I doubt if anything is to be learned from such descriptions or from the self-expression of the subjective states reflected in so much current verse. Far from expanding our consciousness\, we have often\, on the contrary\, in order to understand such states to make ourselves smaller\, like Alice\, before we can get inside such mean rooms as are opened to us. Perhaps the poet gains by articulating and objectifying his neurosis (though I question whether that is the cure for souls it is said to be) but what the reader can hope to gain I fail to see. Does not the confusion at the present time come from the fact that many now writing\, and writing about verse\, are genuinely unaware that what they are writing about\, is not\, properly speaking\, poetry at all — not in any way related to\, or comparable with\, the art as practiced and understood by those on whose account poets are\, in all civilized societies\, honored? It would be absurd to say that there should be no such thing as satirical verse\, or descriptive\, narrative\, or occasional verse; what is deplorable is the confusion of mind which has arisen\, even among those who claim to be poets: an ignorance of the order of things to which their own work purports to belong\, a forgetting\, a deliberate turning away from the recognition that they share neither the ends\, the means\, nor the knowledge\, of what I cannot but call real poets.  \n  \nThere is one word for which we may look in vain in the writings of contemporary critics: the word beauty and the idea of the beautiful\, has ceased to count for anything. Why is this? Has this age discovered something better or have we simply failed to understand a concept which to other civilizations has seemed inseparable from any consideration of the arts? I will not labour the obvious fact that this is a beautiless society. Does this matter? In losing beauty have we lost anything vital to our arts or indeed to our lives? No need to enumerate the material advantages of hygiene\, transport\, television\, frozen vegetables and so on\, not enjoyed by ages whose typical expressions were the sculptures and paintings\, cathedrals and liturgy of the Christian religion; yet in terms of happiness\, our exchange might be harder to defend\, and in terms of the quality of our lives\, harder still. George Russell\, the Irish sage who wrote on the relation of what he called ‘the politics of time’ to ‘the politics of eternity’ observed that “One of the very first symptoms of the loss of the soul is the loss of the sense of beauty.” Is what our society has lost perhaps its soul? \n  \n—Kathleen Raine\, “The Use of the Beautiful” (1966)\, from Defending Ancient Springs \n  \nIn my quest for Beauty\, I came upon a wonderful interview with John O’Donohue on YouTube called “What Is Beauty?” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkUrv4jWipY&t=540s) Highly recommended! \n  \nAnother delight-filled project has been making versions of some of Thomas Traherne’s meditations—which I’m planning to make into a book. It’s hard to pick\, but here are some of them: \n  \n20 \nLove with all your heart—and be happy. This world is then a jewel. It is Paradise. Everything is here for your delight. Love all that is good and enjoy what you love. Love is our nature. When we love everyone and are loved by everyone we are happy. \n  \n27 \nYou never enjoy the world aright\, till you see that a grain of sand is a perfect miracle. Everything is here for your delight—not just because things are beautiful\, or useful\, but because our life is woven into the tapestry of all that is. Wine quenches more than our thirst when we feel it to be one of the countless miracles which are ours to enjoy\, and give thanks. When the happiness of others makes us happy\, life is good. To be grateful for all our blessings is to be blessed\, to live in Paradise. \n  \n28 \nYour enjoyment of the world is never right till every morning you awake in Paradise—until you look upon the earth and sky with boundless joy. If you are grateful for everything\, no one who ever lived has more reason to be happy than you. \n  \n29  \nYou never enjoy the world aright\, till the sea flows in your veins\, till you are clothed with the heavens\, and crowned with the stars—till you perceive yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world\, and more than so\, because people are in it who are every one sole heirs as well as you. Till you can sing and rejoice and delight in all of creation\, as misers do in gold\, you never enjoy the world. \n  \n81 \nEverywhere and at all times be ready to help others. Do it with infinite joy\, knowing it is your duty. Since you have the privilege of enjoying the world\, do your best to help others to find peace and love and happiness. In this way you are beautifying your life and perfuming the world. Every small charitable act benefits everyone everywhere. \n  \n82 \nThere are virtuous people who are concealed like jewels. Dig for them! You will know them by their luster. Become virtuous\, so that they may recognize you by your luster and desire and esteem you for your virtue. For as it is the glory of the sun that darkness cannot approach it\, because it is always encompassed by its own beams\, so lovers of virtue are always secure in their own light. Infuse yourself and your principles into beginners who desire to walk on the path of virtue. Mingle with those on the path as delightful companions. Those who are most sublime and perfect in the luster of their spirit will allure\, protect\, encourage\, comfort\, teach\, honor and delight you. But you must be very good\, for that is the way to find them. And very patient to endure some time\, and very diligent to observe where they are. \n  \n83 \nThose you find of noble and benevolent natures—discreet and magnanimous\, liberal and cheerful\, wise and righteous—will be your greatest treasures. They will turn your world into a Paradise. They will give comfort and counsel to you\, and in all tenderness\, constancy\, fidelity and love will share their life with your own. There are exceedingly few such friends. Yet some may doubtless be found. With half a dozen such as these\, wisely chosen\, we can entertain ourselves always with sublime dialogue and delight in our shared affection. \n  \n—Kathleen Raine\, Thomas Traherne & Johnny Stallings
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-7-2-26/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/07/0.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260702T130000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260702T140000
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260615T003905Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260701T225411Z
UID:6256-1782997200-1783000800@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:LARRY YES at Waterfront Blues Festival  7/2/26
DESCRIPTION:  \nLARRY YES brings a massive amount of GOOD VIBES to Portland’s Waterfront Blues Festival  \n  \nLarry Yes \n \n  \n  (https://waterfrontbluesfest.com/) on July 2nd\, at the River Rhythms Stage at 1:15 pm. \n  \nNOT TO BE MISSED!!!
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/larry-yes-at-waterfront-blues-festival-7-2-26/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/webp:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/06/4x5-Larry.png-1.webp
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260712T130000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260712T150000
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260712T163633Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260712T163633Z
UID:6375-1783861200-1783868400@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Napping Tournament  7/12/26
DESCRIPTION:
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/napping-tournament-7-12-26/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/07/0-5.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260726T140000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260726T153000
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260623T172104Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260625T000209Z
UID:6316-1785074400-1785079800@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:J and the Metaphors: Open Road Benefit Concert
DESCRIPTION:
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/j-and-the-metaphors-open-road-benefit-concert/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/png:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/06/0-2.png
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20260806
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20260903
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260806T014928Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260806T015120Z
UID:6400-1785974400-1788393599@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  8/6/26
DESCRIPTION:  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nAugust 6\, 2026 \n  \nPlumbing Project \n  \nPart One \nWhen the plumber said \n“Probably five to ten grand \nTo reroute the pipe and bypass \nThat leak in your concrete slab” \nThese dangerous \n Oft-spoken  words \nFormed beneath my breath: \n“I could probably do that myself.” \n“That” being moving the water heater\, cutting though three walls\, three cast iron pipes \nRunning fifty feet of new plastic drain line \nDropping at a quarter inch per foot \nInto a main four-inch plumbing stack \nAfter moving the washer and dryer\, office furniture\, bookcases and desks. \n  \nPart Two \nPerhaps it was \n Ralph Waldo Emerson’s \nEssay on Self Reliance \nOr John Dewey’s further championing \nThe theme of “omni-competence” \nThat doomed countless men like myself \nTo years of wandering lumber yards \nAisles of hardware stores \nWearing bruised knuckles and  \nBad backs as badges of honor \nConfident that building\, wiring\, plumbing a house \nFlushing a radiator\, repairing a dishwasher \nOr cooking meat on a grill \nWould assure us a seat \nAt the table of manhood. \nAnd although I am proud \nTo harbor informed opinions on \nCarbide blades\, framing lumber and \nExposed aggregate concrete \nI also wonder how many languages \nI might have learned \nWhat musical instrument I could have mastered \n Had my brain not become  \nA big box store of readily available facts \nOn positive drainage\, adequate clearance and proper ventilation \nAnd to what heights I might have ascended \nHad I not so readily descended \nInto beckoning crawl spaces and drainage ditches. \n  \nPart Three \nWell\, the plumbing is done now \nWater flowing where  \nAnd as it should \nPlus a new laundry sink\, fresh paint  \nOn basement ceiling and floor  \nMany hours remain  \nTo mend the wounds in walls and return \n      Everything to its proper place. \nBut I’m ready now to  \nLearn a new language  \n Pick up a musical instrument \nHowl at the full moon \n(Rising tonight!) \nAnd see if I can’t \nPlumb a few words from  \nA few days of common labor. \n  \nWill Hornyak  \nJuly 2026 \n* \n  \nDazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill me\, \nIf I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me. \n  \n—Walt Whitman\, from “Song of Myself” \n  \nWhat a piece of work is a man!—how noble in reason\, how infinite in faculties\, in form and moving how express and admirable; in action how like an angel\, in apprehension how like a god: the beauty of the world\, the paragon of animals…” \n  \n—Hamlet speaking\, in William Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Hamlet\, Prince of Denmark \n  \nIf the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is\, infinite. \nFor man has closed himself up\, till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern. \n  \n—William Blake\, from “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell” \n  \n(Speaking of caverns\, you might want to re-visit Plato’s Allegory of the Cave in the January\, 2021 issue of peace\, love\, happiness & understanding: https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-1-7-21/.) \n  \nFor the past couple years\, I’ve been doing an “entertainment” of some kind more or less every month at Taborspace in Portland\, or online. As a concession to my aging brain\, I’ve been reading things\, rather than trying to memorize them. My entertainments have featured Shakespeare\, Dostoevsky\, Whitman\, Black Elk\, Traherne\, Cabeza de Vaca\, Kalidasa & Stallings; I’ve explored topics like Eutopia\, Zen\, the English Romantic Poets\, Humanism & Paradise Now! This month\, on August 8th\, I’m taking a look at Beauty. \n  \nEssays by Kathleen Raine\, including “The Use of the Beautiful” (1966)\, inspired me to delve into the English Romantic poets\, and now into Beauty. She says that beauty and the arts have been traditionally associated with each other\, but with the advent of modernism—she’s talking mostly about poetry—beauty was no longer fashionable. She asks: “Have we found something better?” In her essay “A Defense of Shelley’s Poetry\,” she makes this bold statement: “It might be said that the arts exist\, finally\, for no other end than the holding before us of images of Paradise.” \n  \nIf you want to inquire into a topic like beauty\, or love\, or happiness\, the first thing you discover is that it is endless. There are all kinds of beauty. The natural world is full of beauty. Human beings make beautiful music\, paintings\, sculptures\, poems. We have beautiful ideas and imaginings. And there is something mysterious\, which we call “inner beauty.” For my event on Saturday\, I don’t want to talk about theories of beauty. Mostly\, I want to give examples of things that I find beautiful—including music\, works of art\, poetry\, pictures of happy children and hummingbirds\, et cetera. Here are three of my favorite poems about beauty that are themselves beautiful: \n  \nPied Beauty \n  \nGlory be to God for dappled things – \n   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; \n      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; \nFresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings; \n   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold\, fallow\, and plough; \n      And áll trádes\, their gear and tackle and trim. \n  \nAll things counter\, original\, spare\, strange; \n   Whatever is fickle\, freckled (who knows how?) \n      With swift\, slow; sweet\, sour; adazzle\, dim; \nHe fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: \n                                Praise him. \n  \n—Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) \n* \n  \nOde on a Grecian Urn \n  \nThou still unravish’d bride of quietness\, \n       Thou foster-child of silence and slow time\, \nSylvan historian\, who canst thus express \n       A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: \nWhat leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape \n       Of deities or mortals\, or of both\, \n               In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? \n       What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? \nWhat mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? \n               What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? \n  \nHeard melodies are sweet\, but those unheard \n       Are sweeter; therefore\, ye soft pipes\, play on; \nNot to the sensual ear\, but\, more endear’d\, \n       Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: \nFair youth\, beneath the trees\, thou canst not leave \n       Thy song\, nor ever can those trees be bare; \n               Bold Lover\, never\, never canst thou kiss\, \nThough winning near the goal yet\, do not grieve; \n       She cannot fade\, though thou hast not thy bliss\, \n               For ever wilt thou love\, and she be fair! \n  \nAh\, happy\, happy boughs! that cannot shed \n         Your leaves\, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; \nAnd\, happy melodist\, unwearied\, \n         For ever piping songs for ever new; \nMore happy love! more happy\, happy love! \n         For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d\, \n                For ever panting\, and for ever young; \nAll breathing human passion far above\, \n         That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d\, \n                A burning forehead\, and a parching tongue. \n  \nWho are these coming to the sacrifice? \n         To what green altar\, O mysterious priest\, \nLead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies\, \n         And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? \nWhat little town by river or sea shore\, \n         Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel\, \n                Is emptied of this folk\, this pious morn? \nAnd\, little town\, thy streets for evermore \n         Will silent be; and not a soul to tell \n                Why thou art desolate\, can e’er return. \n  \nO Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede \n         Of marble men and maidens overwrought\, \nWith forest branches and the trodden weed; \n         Thou\, silent form\, dost tease us out of thought \nAs doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! \n         When old age shall this generation waste\, \n                Thou shalt remain\, in midst of other woe \nThan ours\, a friend to man\, to whom thou say’st\, \n         “Beauty is truth\, truth beauty\,—that is all \n                Ye know on earth\, and all ye need to know.” \n  \n—John Keats (1795-1821) \n* \n  \nLapis Lazuli \n  \nI have heard that hysterical women say \nThey are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow\, \nOf poets that are always gay\, \nFor everybody knows or else should know \nThat if nothing drastic is done \nAeroplane and Zeppelin will come out\, \nPitch like King Billy bomb-balls in \nUntil the town lie beaten flat. \n  \nAll perform their tragic play\, \nThere struts Hamlet\, there is Lear\, \nThat’s Ophelia\, that Cordelia; \nYet they\, should the last scene be there\, \nThe great stage curtain about to drop\, \nIf worthy their prominent part in the play\, \nDo not break up their lines to weep. \nThey know that Hamlet and Lear are gay; \nGaiety transfiguring all that dread. \nAll men have aimed at\, found and lost; \nBlack out; Heaven blazing into the head: \nTragedy wrought to its uttermost. \nThough Hamlet rambles and Lear rages\, \nAnd all the drop scenes drop at once \nUpon a hundred thousand stages\, \nIt cannot grow by an inch or an ounce. \n  \nOn their own feet they came\, or on shipboard\, \nCamel-back\, horse-back\, ass-back\, mule-back\, \nOld civilisations put to the sword. \nThen they and their wisdom went to rack: \nNo handiwork of Callimachus \nWho handled marble as if it were bronze\, \nMade draperies that seemed to rise \nWhen sea-wind swept the corner\, stands; \nHis long lamp chimney shaped like the stem \nOf a slender palm\, stood but a day; \nAll things fall and are built again \nAnd those that build them again are gay. \n  \nTwo Chinamen\, behind them a third\, \nAre carved in Lapis Lazuli\, \nOver them flies a long-legged bird \nA symbol of longevity; \nThe third\, doubtless a serving-man\, \nCarries a musical instrument. \n  \nEvery discolouration of the stone\, \nEvery accidental crack or dent \nSeems a water-course or an avalanche\, \nOr lofty slope where it still snows \nThough doubtless plum or cherry-branch \nSweetens the little half-way house \nThose Chinamen climb towards\, and I \nDelight to imagine them seated there; \nThere\, on the mountain and the sky\, \nOn all the tragic scene they stare. \nOne asks for mournful melodies; \nAccomplished fingers begin to play. \nTheir eyes mid many wrinkles\, their eyes\, \nTheir ancient\, glittering eyes\, are gay. \n  \n—William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-8-6-26/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/IMG_9518-scaled.jpeg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260808T150000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260808T170000
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260624T182831Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260729T183243Z
UID:6341-1786201200-1786208400@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:BEAUTY: A Vision  8/8/26
DESCRIPTION:  \nBEAUTY: A Vision  \n  \nJohnny Stallings looks at Beauty \n  \nSaturday\, August 8\, at 3 p.m. \nArtspace Room at Taborspace\, 5441 SE Belmont  \n  \nthis Open Road event is free
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/beauty-a-vision-7-18-26/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/06/Paul_Cezanne_-_The_Basket_of_Apples_-_1926.252_-_Art_Institute_of_Chicago-scaled.jpg
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260912T120000
DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20260912T140000
DTSTAMP:20260824T060535
CREATED:20260823T215430Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260823T215430Z
UID:6419-1789214400-1789221600@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Amos Kilbright: his adscititious experiences  9/12/26
DESCRIPTION:  \nAmos Kilbright: his adscititious experiences \n  \nFrank Stockton’s astonishing tale \nread by Johnny Stallings \n  \nSaturday\, September 12th\, at noon \nin the Artspace Room at Taborspace \n5441 SE Belmont Street\, in Portland \n  \nthis Open Road event is free \n  \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/amos-kilbright-his-adscititious-experiences-9-12-26/
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/images-5.jpeg
END:VEVENT
END:VCALENDAR