the number of times I’ve started a post title with ‘fuck’ is, in fact, pretty large. I blame it on society. B&W is awesome, and I think it was a much needed break from what I was doing, in order to get a better idea of where I’m going as an artist. Strip down, simplify, and don’t fuck around with triviality for a while. But then today, I was editing these photos, and I clicked the one of the woman in the orange caot over to color for a second, just to see, and I realized that I was still seeing in color most of the time, and that may of these photos worked better in color. It would be a shame to hide something good for the sake of style. I can’t ignore the evidence of my eyes. So here, some fucking color:
Posted on 2013-12-28T20:01:38Z GMT
I may have talked about this, but with my new job, for some reason I find it harder to get up on time to take the ferry. So for a while there, I only had one form of commute, and it was boring, and my instageam likes fell way off. More recently, though, I’ve started ferry-ing again. It really is a lot nice way to start the day. much less crowded, never too hot, and as a result, a lot more civil. I brought this up to a fellow passenger, and they said, “Well, we’re all in the same boat.” I’ve been thinking lately about this idea that I got from N. Scott Momaday’s In the Bear’s House, where one of the characters says “All stories are true.” It’s a koan for me; there are a lot of way to approach the idea, and a lot of layers to it. Obviously not all stories are ture on their face, but they all tell us something. About the tellers, about ourselves, and hopefully, about the world. “Storyteller” isn’t far removed from “teacher”, after all. I wish I could remember a little more of the context around that statement from the book, but I loaned my copy of it out and never saw it again some years ago.
Posted on 2013-12-28T08:58:41Z GMT
after the pier, we went for a little hike. nothing strenuous, more of a nice coda to the day. there was this beautiful little stream at the halfway point. and then i took an accidental selfie, which came out ok.
Posted on 2013-12-25T22:05:21Z GMT
We went down to visit some friends on a saturday, and then we ended up staying on their fold out couch. It was nice: Sophie got to play with cats, and I got to not drive 2 hours back to the city. I the morning, we went for brunch and a walk out on the pier. The brunch place was this totally hippie place called jupiter, good food though. All done up for Halloween, which was in the middle of a week this year if memory serves. Anyway, Santa Cruz has a lot going for it. nice little amusement park, beautiful little downtown (getting a little commercial, but so is SF), and hiking right in town. That’s the next post, though.
Posted on 2013-12-25T07:27:24Z GMT
There’s an essay that I’ve been working on and thinking about for the last several years. I think of it as my essay on scale, and the photos end up being drawn mostly from SF, but from other places as well. It’s about that moment when you look up and see the world as it is, and for just a moment realize how big things really are. There may be a better set of words to describe what I’m talking about. An actual essay, in addition to a photo essay? Maybe, but I need to at least figure out what I’m talking about first. Maybe it’s also about my personal discovery of just how big the world is, and how small I am in it. The truth is these are just glimpses of something much larger; to take in the whole thing would kill you, or at least drive you bonkers. Or maybe it’s not something you can look at the whole and understand. More like you can see a corner of it and understand the whole better. Looking up at the stars is seeing forever, and it just looks flat. Looking at mountains many miles wide and tall is the same; it’s scenery. Introduce some perspective somehow, and suddenly things pop into place.
Posted on 2013-12-24T07:52:00Z GMT
