Willow DaNaan’s art prints – on view at Cafe Madison for the “Holiday Island Magic” Arts Walk Nov 4 – are images of the supernatural crafted with technical wizardry.
This artist’s computer-generated prints feature three-dimensional fairies in Maxfield Parrish-like idealized landscapes.
The bad news is that the economic fallout from the September terrorist attacks definitely reached Bainbridge Island.
The good news is that for the most part, the effect seem to be dissipating.
“There was literally nothing for a few days,” said Sally Loomis of Loomis Travel. “We were busy refunding and reaccomodating people.”
State ferries may become floating advertising kiosks to keep the boats afloat.
But they won’t be floating billboards — external advertising visible from the shores is not in the cards.
“We are accepting information from companies, organizations and individuals about advertising, and asking for their best estimates on how much revenue some or all of their programs could raise,” said Washington State Ferries public affairs Director Pat Patterson.
Simon Chrisman calls the hammer dulcimer he plays for the First Fridays audience Nov. 2 a “piano without the keys.”
The description is apt.
The dulcimer is like a piano without a lid – the strings running parallel to the sounding board, the felts controlled with a foot pedal – but the indirect action of the keys is short-circuited by putting the felt hammers in the musician’s hands.
As a matter of law, Bainbridge Island is a city. As a matter of fact, though, much of it looks like countryside, with farms, fields and forests dominating much of the landscape outside of Winslow.
But like every place else, the island is growing, and no matter how we plan our growth, some of it will inevitably push into those presently empty spaces.
Call it the dream of fields.
And woods. And perhaps a little shoreline as well.
The desire to preserve the island’s natural features and farms underpins the $8 million open space bond levy that goes before voters Nov. 6.
The campaign got an unexpected push last week, when the city came to terms with Akio Suyematsu for public purchase of his 15-acre working farm on Day Road East.
Maggie Mackey still attends Bainbridge High School, even though she graduated last spring.
Like other students with multiple disabilities, Maggie qualifies for public education until she is 21, under the federal Individuals with Disabilities Education Act.
“In our house we call it ‘post-graduate work,’” said Sheri Ley-Mackey, Maggie’s mother.
The Review’s endorsements for contested seats and ballot issues in the Nov. 6 general election:
Six candidates for the island’s three city council seats tried to persuade the island’s business community Thursday that they are better able to keep the wheels of island commerce turning.
Each candidate answered three questions at the Chamber of Commerce’s monthly lunch meeting at the Commons.
The giant pumpkin in front of Johansson Clark and Associates is extra big this year.
An orange monster appears in front of the realtors each Halloween, but this oversize squash tips the scales at 966 pounds – close to the world champion 1,200-pound colossus.
Chris Llewellyn knows what it’s like to be poor on Bainbridge Island.
“I was a single mother at one point,” she recalls, “and I was so poor that I had to sell my bed to buy a chainsaw to cut firewood to keep the house warm.”
Llewellyn has shared a lot of experiences with a lot of people on the island where she has lived most of her life.
“Pigasus” may not be as graceful as her mythical near-namesake, but she has her feet on the ground.
The prodigious pink porker – a 3-foot high, 100-pound fiberglass sculpture – landed on the northwest corner of Wyatt and Madison this week sporting running shoes, wings and a big grin.
Driving up to the home of Suzanne and Cameron Fischer, one notices the bright plastic toys scattered across the green lawn. The interior of the house is neat – considering that six kids call it home.
Three are the Fischers’ own and three are foster children. All are crammed onto the sofa to watch movies.
“You can tell which are mine by the hair,” said Suzanne Fischer, indicating the three whose tousled mops are, like their mother’s, flaming red.
The infant, toddler and 5-year-old who are the foster additions are otherwise indistinguishable from the Fischer kids.
