On Friday, G, M, and I braved the pouring rain and wind to attend a wake for Per at Dawn and Nils' house. We helped hang his artwork on all available spaces, and it was my first chance to see a lot of the originals of drawings that have ended up gracing album covers and flyers over the years. There were also originals of the graphic novel styled Emmett Till and Ed Gein stories he did, as well as a lot of other miscellaneous stuff. An old friend of his arrived with a huge (3' by 4') replica of an H.R. Giger piece that Per had done as a teenager. It was beautiful, even though the corner had been mangled by a pit bull at some point. Giger usually uses an airbrushing technique. Per's version was done with #2 pencil. It must have taken months to complete! The house was soon packed with people from all periods of Per's life, and plates and plates of food. The bedroom, which is a semi-converted old stable, was noisey with conversation and the sound of driving rain slamming against corrugated metal. There was even a small flood as water found its way in. We listened to about 20 minutes worth of hilarious phone messages from Per that Nils had saved, and watched a couple of short films that he'd appeared in. Dawn and Nils sung Still Here, which Nils had written about Per some time ago, and the song now has new meaning, making it a wrenching experience to listen to. There was a lot of laughter to go along with the tears as people recounted various escapades involving Per. There is a real warmth to be found amongst this crowd, and I'm glad I got to take part in this collective celebration of Per's life. He's still inspiring us even though he's moved on to elsewhere.

It was my first wake. I'm sure it won't be my last. The world is ever an uncertain place.

On the way home, hydroplaning and peering through the dark and the wet, I received a not-so-subtle reminder about the fickleness of the future. There was a large conifer down across all southbound lanes of the freeway. I knew it had happened sometime in the previous half an hour because I had just traveled that stretch of road on my way to drop of M at his place. Even on the northbound side I wasn't safe. My attention was abruptly brought back to the road in front of me by a loud bang as I smacked into the tip of the tree, which was hanging over the divider and into the northbound lanes. Fortunately the only damage was to my windshield. The two foot crack that was already there is now a three foot, branching crack that goes from the top center of the windshield all the way to the right side. When I got home I discovered that the little plastic man who has been wedged into one of my windshield wipers for about three years had been swept away into the flooded darkness. All that is left of him is one of his feet.

I could have been crushed or impaled, but I'm still here.

If you read Jen's blog, you know that her grandfather, who would be 93 now if he'd lived, has died. I met him only once, when we all went down to Texas for Thanksgiving in 2003. I didn't get to know him well because I was meeting a great many of Jen's relatives for the first time, but he seemed to me to be a kind and happy man. He was well loved and will be missed.

Last night we spent more time with Dawn and Nils, this time at Blake's in Berkeley, where they were performing (as Faun Fables) as part of the New Year's bash being held there. Many of the same people who had attended Per's wake, including Dawn's sister Sheila and Nils' parents Mickey and Jim, were there, so it was more like being at a party than a "show." Faun Fables caught the Old Year Man and ushered in the new in fine form with new songs and celebration. Afterwards, G, M, and I cast about for a place to perform our own New Year's tradition, which involves hauling a bundle of instruments and non-instruments to some remote location and recording some improvised music. We initially thought we could sneak into the Greek Theatre, but found it locked up tight, so we wandered onto the UC Berkeley campus and found an alcove that was sheltered from the wind and contained some shelves laden with cool looking gears and other metal impedimentia. Not exactly remote, but I had no gas and no money, so it had to do. We made good use of the walls and metal, fully expecting to be interrupted by some exasperated janitor at any moment. Nobody appeared though. I guess the UC leaves random lights on to help drain the city's power supply. Don't they know anything about conservation?

M spent the night. Today we did very little, except some drawing and taking a walk when the gale-force winds knocked the power out for a couple of hours. The girls splashed in so many puddles that we had to wring them out when we got home.