Strolling past the shop window mannequin bedecked in camouflaged bondage & discipline chains, under the gaze of a graffiti painted portrait of the street-living woodcarver recently killed by a police officer, was a man in a basement. A man with a laptop, and a poodle. Bending down to look through the basement windows at shoe level, we read a taped 8.5X11 piece of paper that said something about Japanese woodworking. Inside, by the man, was a sign that said “Open, sort of…”.

This we needed to see. So we looked around to find a very non-ADA ramp that went down and around into the basement, past construction debris and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The friendly guy jumped up in surprise to see someone actually come down into his hole. The poodle yipped but then got all tail waggy as well.

We were regaled with a half hour of history on China, Mao’s decimation of artisans, and the last few remaining master craftsmen cabinetmakers in China. They were only 20 of these cabinets made, one of which stood right in front of us, and they could be yours for the bargain price of $12,000. That price actually seemed right for the quality, detailed hand-labored metalwork, and finely aligned pieces, but the guy’s presentation wasn’t particularly high end to match.

He meant very well, but he told as much about what he didn’t know as what he did know, and he stumbled when it came to discussing the high price point. The ratty sweatshirt and dank surroundings didn’t exude “high end” either, but then again this was Capitol Hill and that all likely added to its allure for fancy folks with extra cash. He made up for it all in enthusiasm and earnestness.

After rising to the twilight above, we stopped in at the Vermillion artist’s gallery & wine bar which was setting up for a “closing reception”. The lady artist from Port Townsend was a delight, telling us stories about her beach trash paintings. My friends and I actually liked them all; they were fun, whimsical, and made little objects seem impressively big through perspective. On top of her other talents, she got out her fiddle to jam with the wine bar owner.

Food beckoned after all that wandering.  A varied selection of good Japanese food at Boom Noodle, served to us at long family style tables with other eaters, was followed by handmade High 5 Pie (complete with waiting line)… We had pie on a stick (lollipop style), vegan pie, and classic almond cherry al a mode. Something for everyone.

After marvelling at some post-punk alter-ego fashion statements walking around the neighborhood, the night was capped off with window shopping. We had a revelation finding out that 1970s garage sale junk lamps and wall hangings from our very own personal family histories were now selling for hundreds of bucks as retro cool stuff. And yet that was to be expected here.