October 18, 2016

We've all misted over seeing those stamps of America's lighthouses- those lone sentinels keeping our ships from utter destruction on rocky shores. A favorite is Cape Meares because it's in striking distance, but mainly because you get to go inside! The magnificent circle of prisms becomes a huge sinister eye (which harkens to a previous entry about what we are naturally drawn to). Idiotic vandals have damaged the lens but the form and line of this accidental sculpture are magnetic.

September 8, 2016

 Cranking up Williams Ave., I got sidetracked by a saran-wrapped cocoon. It was a new sculpture yet-to-be unveiled. The light was filtering through revealing the bicycle chainrings beneath. It was like a spider egg with a million cogs on the verge of birth. Hard metal rings encased in ephemeral silk were in a fragile stasis. I knew this was a moment about to change forever. A photo record must be made!

September 8, 2016

As I began to discover mirroring in a mobile app, the temptation to really explore subject matter was too much. From my own palm to flora and people, the results became quite compelling. As humans, we differentiate friend or foe as a survival instinct and consequently, we see faces in everything. Part of this is symmetry. The face is a matchbook. But symmetry is also unnatural in much of what we see so when it's there, we are drawn to it.

More mystery- my favorite game! 

March 24, 2015

I pull into the driveway, shut off the car, open the door and as I let the dogs out of the car I am filled with foreboding. It's that SOUND. CAW caw, CaW cAw CAW!! It's a murder of them.

I whirl around and several of the trees on my street are filled with crows. Dozens of them. And they're not happy. I know from news about corvid studies that they remember human faces and can pass along to their young, who is a good human and who is not-- from past encounters. (And the young will know them later!)

 

What are they so upset about? I scan the street but no one is about. There's nothing on the ground that could be menacing to them. So, as I survey upwards, I see it. The transformer on our block has done it again. Adhered to the large grey can at the top of the pole directly across the street is it's latest victim. It's wings are outstretched but vertically, and serenely fluttering in the light breeze. The electrocuted crow is hot glued by the claws to the can, and dangling like a headdress ornament on our power line pole.

It's a funeral! 

 

 

 

 

 

February 7, 2015

It was around this time last year we were introduced to the notion that the upcoming year was the Chinese year of the horse and that that would be auspicious for great change-- possibly tumultuous or change of upheaval-- but nonetheless transition and growth. For me, as it turns out, it was. Although not until Halloween. It was the fall that I began exercise in earnest, which led to strains and adjustments, but it was in earnest.

And it also turned out to be a big time of addressing reorganization and management of the creative morass I have accumulated for decades. Start. Just start. Baby steps.

Here are some discoveries as a result:

 

January 31, 2015

Looking is being aware which may not involve the eyes at all. In this instance, the game of Go behind me was not a quiet battle. I was unaware initially that the player closest to me was holding his artificial arm in such a gentle way amid the exuberant play where all attention was focused. But noticing the periphery is news training and capturing the quietude amidst the cacophony is the result.

 

January 31, 2015

Driving back from the coast-- a common route I know well-- I saw the leaning tower. I know I've noticed it whizzing by Camp 18 restaurant, 18 miles east of the Pacific ocean. But this time I stopped, curiosity compelling my leg to hit the brakes and pull in. Immediately I smelled what I seek. This place was chock full of fascinating relics of our storied logging history and the light was that gorgeous, low- slung winter gold. It was late morning and the sun had won in it's battle with the fog. Still, fog was filtering sunlight on the periphery. Not a soul around. The oddities of this collection of machinery and rail cars were numerous and dazzlingly shaped by the sun's rays. The textures and color entranced me. My advice? Stop and wander next time.

 

January 29, 2015

This is the first entry after migrating, one at a time, some 150 entries from my former Blogger site. It was arduous but useful, like reading through old journals. Reviewing work has not been the subject of a blog entry for me. Maybe it will be. For now, as a first new post here at my website, I'll just choose a random set of images to peruse:

 

September 23, 2014

Magic only happens to boy scouts because they are prepared. I'm not talking about flashlights. Preparation is a mental/emotional thing that opens the door of opportunity. When we are ready to receive the gift of something exceptional there is an attitude of openness and stillness required. I definitely notice my breath at times like this. 

Obviously, I was presented with something extraordinary in this grove of California redwoods, among giants whose heads were in the clouds but with laser lights shooting through, every which way. But it was in the soft padding of feet and calm noticing that this rift in the universe became visible. It's hard because the event was so exciting and I didn't know how long it would last, and slow deliberation was not a natural thing. So I noticed my breath and started there. I slowed way down. It was only then that I could really "see". I had gotten some lovely shots up to now. I could easily have just kept moving to get back to waiting folks at the car. But I had to make myself stop and smell and become hyper aware and listen and wait. It was worth it.

 

 

 

 

July 26, 2014

I sometimes have no control over what I pursue so I have to just trust it. Case in point: the Simon Benson bubbler drinking fountain. As almost always, I push to expand on what is seen-- toward the great underneath.

 

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