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.


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


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:

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