Until last night I had no idea. But if Chris knows you, do what he says.
It would have been way easier to stay home and watch TV and I'd cleaned the gutters and was sore, and I'd eaten too much spaghetti, and whine, whine, whine ... but Chris said, "This will blow your mind. 25th edition of the Stove Party, this place is magic."
This is a backyard near Toco Hills. Understatement: Clark Ashton is an artist, musician, stove builder, proprietor of a sculpture garden, and thrower of bodcious parties.
So I had my picture taken with the steel cycling skeleton.
Because even though I was there, I just couldn't believe this place. There's this tower with two stoves as you enter the back yard.
Folks milled around among sculptures and stoves from hot spot to hot spot.
Even those not smiling were in a good mood. I met Mr. Finkelstein (the teacher) from Macon and many others.
Of course there was a bluegrass band in the workshop.
And a rock 'n' roll band in the rock 'n' roll room.
And there were sculptures everywhere.
There was no bad place to be.
You could always find a warm place and a warmhearted person.
Statues and shadows and steeples.
They dialed a few stoves to "11."
I had no idea.
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