It dawned on me. Yesterday & Tomorrow was closed. I kept driving  past it on my way home from work and nothing was happening. The plantings around the house were overgrown. No one seemed to be entering or leaving. I’m not sure if I noticed any lights on in the past but the business was deserted.

As most Orbit Obits go I tend to write about places that have gone too soon, too soon for me to visit, that is. It seems like a place that had always been there and always would be there.  I was curious and had meant to visit some time in the ten years I’ve lived in Portland. There a sadness to my procrastination when I realize a store I’ll never experience has closed.

Yesterday & Tomorrow was a business run out of a house which felt like a barrier. It was hard to get past the idea of shopping in a personal environment. I remember the sign that sat on the corner next to the electrical pole, but I still had a hard time getting a feel for the kind of art they sold. I saw stuff for decorating lawns and imagined more of that inside. The deteriorating sign couldn’t have made it any clearer. This business was an art gallery. I missed my chance to see any of the type of art that had been displayed in the various rooms. Art of any kind would have been worth checking out at least once.

The unkept front yard was full of sculpture. It didn’t look like your typical big box store lawn ornament inventory. What I saw when I visited the site this summer reminded me of the work of Carlton Bell. This store was a possible link to the work of this mysterious artist that might remain unexplored.

I blame myself for the demise of a business like this. Local businesses, especially those in a different setting, need support. It’s a lesson. Never put off until tomorrow, what you’ve been meaning to do for years. If you think you’re going to do something someday, consider the one thing I remember from seeing the play Sacramento 50 Miles in elementary school.  “Someday may never come.”