Installation

Got Shelley's wake up call just after I'd hit the snooze button for the second time. We meet at the coffee shop and after scribbling directions on the cover of my Willamette Weekly head out to her college. I follow her lead, barely, as I tend to drive at least three miles under the speed limit when I know where I'm going and at least five when I don't. The cop who pulled up behind me in Lake Oswego didn't help. Just before we hit the left turn to her campus, I'm amazed to see a stretch of highway that looks so much like California.

After finding parking (a slightly easier endeavor than at Lewis & Clark) I meet Kim, Shelley's old boss at the Art Gym. I quickly understand that Kim, however sweet and well meaning, could quickly wear on one's nerves. After a long reminder about opening windows and not setting off alarms, however, Shelley gains admittance to the Art Gym, and we are alone.

Finally, I see the culmination of over a year of Shelley's life. Two spaces - one large corner, one small room - wait for Shelley's work. A coating of taupe-beige paint sets her walls apart from the rest: the paint's called pita-something, we detect a hint of mauve, but not enough to feel concerned. Mostly, it looks, and feels, huge; not just the size of the gallery, which Shelley tells me used to be a real gym for nuns in habits, but the size of the grand finale, the graduation, the show and all the opportunities that lie before my friend.

As the heat sets in, I watch Shelley calmly set to work. We paint and measure and then I watch and check the levels of each piece as she places them on the wall. The gallery air grows stale and plain old hot and we sweat and laugh while we work. I truly needed a day like this; a change of scene, something to take my mind off things, something to get me out of the house. I leave just before rush hour, one wall into things, as Ben's come to help.

See you at the show: this Shelley girl's gonna be huge.