Monthly Archives: August 2010


Good things are happening here. I want to welcome Jared Everett to town, now running the show at the Tailor Shop. Jared comes to Levi’s from Mister Freedom in LA (much respect), so you can expect to see some special things coming out of there in the near future. In the meantime pay him a visit at 300 Post Street.

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While at the Ace Hotel in New York earlier this month I did an small installation for the Levis x Filson collaboration and the Oregon Fire Lines. Beautiful black and white photography by Brad Bunyea and a short film from inside the fires by an actual Grayback firefighter, Colton Kilgon. And get that tincloth trucker while you can – that thing is killer and selling out quick. Check it out at 29th and Broadway.

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Our friend Jou Yie from Ace Hotel asked the Kapten and I to paint a mural in one of their rooms after a visit to the steps last month for one of our frequent kitchen tattoo get togethers. We went out to NYC a couple weeks ago to paint the American bison with a traveler’s brand in room 408. It was a fun week with good friends stopping by to hang out while we traced and painted. My old friend Mike Bones and the beautiful Sasha Vine stopped in late one night to play us some songs and get tattooed. Thanks to Ace for the good times.



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Being new to the Bay Area one of the best things I find about the city is getting out of it and getting out of it often. Frequent escapes north are a mandatory to to avoid San Andreas insanity (that fault line will make you crazy, you know). Hell, you get 20 minutes north of the bridge and your secluded in some of the most beautiful redwood landscapes imaginable and it only gets better the farther you go. Early last Spring,Mister Mordechai and I were quick to connect on this need to cut loose and headed north with friends Lou and Kapten Hanna for the Great Redwood Highway and whatever it had to offer. Three days of redwoods and ocean, cowboys and hippies, motels and tree forts, sage incense and salmon jerky, Sweetheart of the Rodeo and the American Beauty, all up the 101 from San Francisco to Grants Pass…

You can lead a horse to the natural market…  Ran into this guy right away – said he rides into town everyday. He and that horse were about the same size. Handicap spot btw.

Hippie Dippie over here shopping for pachouli and ear candles

“Sea Bag, $10″

Some killer junk store shopping along the way. The truck bed can start to fill up quick.

Up in Oregon we found a new friend who lives on wild expanse of land inhabited by a gentle horses and three legged pregnant dogs. She makes beautiful moccasins which you’ll hear more about later. That night, after hoisting our gear from bears reach, we slept soundly in a tree fort near the small hippie commune town of Takilma…



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Maynard Dixon was born in 1875  into a family of aristocratic Virginia Confederates, whom after the Civil War had found a new home in Fresno, California.  His mother was a daughter of a Navy officer from San Francisco. Dixon coincidentally spent most of his life there.  In 1900 he visited Arizona and New Mexico and developed a passion for the roaming west.  In California he developed his own theme of western modernist painting, utilizing the grand landscapes of the desert in beautiful vivid colors. He made a living illustrating books and magazines in this style.

He had a brief stint in New York, where continued to illustrate in his now famous western theme. He quickly realized that only back home could create “honest art of the west” instead of the romanticized versions he was being paid for in the big city.  He picked up and moved back to San Francisco. It was there he met and married American photographer Dorthea Lange.  At the time she had just started her own portrait studio in San Francisco.  Dixon opened Lange’s eyes to photographing outside of the studio and in the open air, which clearly had a prolific effect on her vision and career.

You know Lange, she took this photograph:

Dixon and Lange

Dixon continued with his passion for painting the rural west and further developed his own career as an artist

While in San Francisco, Dixon dressed like a cowboy and was determined to impose his Cowboy style onto the city lifestyle, most often in the form of a black Stetson hat, boots and a bolo tie.  His even named his 2nd son John Eaglefeather Dixon.

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I just spent a few days 100 miles up the coast at The Sea Ranch. Beautiful rustic modern homes salt and pepper ten miles of land between the ocean bluffs and redwoods, more than half of them abandoned until the winter (June, July, August) passes. I believe it was a place where in the 60s hippie architects from Berkeley came to revolutionize environmentally conscious architecture. What it feels like now is an all too quiet town after the cult moved out. We saw maybe 3 other humans the entire time, leaving us alone to the private beaches, wild forrest and empty rec centers. Made for a killer weekend.

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