Home
This website represents some of the work and activities of James R (Jim) Ludden.
Jim considers himself a 'jack of all trades' and master of some. He learned cabinetry from his father, sewing in seventh grade, electronics from cousin Dave at age 12, acetylene and arc welding while building the hot rod in high school, glass blowing as an undergrad, and pipe organ building in Germany.
He studied chemistry, forestry, and economics but never worked in these fields. He rode his motorcycle 17,000 miles through central Africa and built 20 pipe organs before settling on software design as a remunerative occupation at age 45.
In 2014 he designed a house in Taos, NM, and spent six hours a day in 2015 working on the crew that built it. In 2019 he partnered with Lana K Green, and in July 2021 they were married. Two fit comfortably in 900 square feet!
Enjoy yourself wandering through these pages.
Jim Ludden, 2017
Jim (center) with Lenin (guide, left) and Carol (wife, right)
on 2009 boat trip down
Rio San Juan, Nicaragua.
Jim building playhouse in 1999. Assembled with screws in Seattle, then moved to Alexandra in Seattle, to Hailey in Sultan, WA, and to Gold Bar, WA in 2013.
Playhouse in Gold Bar, WA, July 2014
Looking a bit tired after 15 years
July 2021, Jim and Lana Green were wed in Keir Green's yard in Arroyo Seco, NM. Family and about 70 friends attended.
Where I'm From
I am from apples and strawberries, artichokes and mud pies. I am from crashing breakers and hot sand, smelly seaweed rotting by the driftwood.
I am from the back room, taking apart broken toys and equipment, given to me to keep me from eternally asking, “Why Mommy?”. I am from the dinner table where parents endlessly argue over medical diagnoses and techniques.
I am from the bedroom, reading Compton’s Pictured Encyclopedia cover to cover, and about anything else I can find. I am from electronic kits and motor cars, soldering and welding. Ever learning.
I am from school, never playing hooky, acquainted with all 300 classmates with parents from Mexico, Italy, Philippines, China, Japan, Croatia. I am from an elite private college, where the only “real people” were the gardeners sweeping the sidewalks with long fronds of palm. I am from the summer, working in an apricot orchard with folks who slept in their cars, and from the five and dime store earning more than the mothers who sold the merchandise that I unpacked.
I am from a lonely laboratory filled with glassware, poisons, and explosives. I am from a private coed boarding school in West Africa, trying to instill a thought process in students who only wanted the answers to the school leaving exam.
I am from the chorus, singing a set of short songs, so enrapt with the music that I am not myself, only a voice in the chorus.
I am from the drawing board, assembling parts to make a tape recorder, a house, or a software application. I am at the sewing machine, stitching legs or waistband or glittering salmon onto a stole.
I am these, more or less, more broad than deep.