From the front of an old building in downtown Issaquah.
I look forward to the intense colors of autumn - soon I think - perhaps ten days or so I think.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Witch Ball
Sitting atop a fence post, Image taken at the Bellevue Botanical Garden along the Perennial Border a few weeks ago.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Zauschia Blosssom
Taken a few weeks ago at the Issaquah's Farmer's Market.
No poignant observations today - only a memory of truly golden sunset light shining through rain.
No poignant observations today - only a memory of truly golden sunset light shining through rain.
Spiderweb IV: Cling
Autumn begins in the Pacific Northwest with the return of the rains and mists.
The water drops dance and splash, but the morning mists - creeping slowly and silently - move across the world after dark, gently daub drops on every edge and thread.
This photo gave me an odd awakening today. It was a short year back that I finally understood The Light, at least in a small way. I was making this image of a spider web when I finally began to understand the transient nature that changes second by second, never to return in just the same way again. More importantly, I understood, at least a bit and for the first time, the glorious light of morning and evening.
This little bit I was given to understand and I've spent the last year learning to appreciate. I watch now, all the time, looking for the backlit glow of green moss and the luminous burst of color through the clouds of sunset. These events are amazing things - little fireworks that happen every time the sun shines - and require only that we watch. To me, each one is now a little prize, a private joy given by a sly universe.
Today I was given another gift. Today I learned a little about the subtle nature of The Light: the light during the drizzle of a rain storm. The tiny, delicate highlights beamed from a clouded sun, still change with every passing minute, but seemingly slower, a bit attenuated and more subtle. Such a delight; and I only had to look.
The water drops dance and splash, but the morning mists - creeping slowly and silently - move across the world after dark, gently daub drops on every edge and thread.
This photo gave me an odd awakening today. It was a short year back that I finally understood The Light, at least in a small way. I was making this image of a spider web when I finally began to understand the transient nature that changes second by second, never to return in just the same way again. More importantly, I understood, at least a bit and for the first time, the glorious light of morning and evening.
This little bit I was given to understand and I've spent the last year learning to appreciate. I watch now, all the time, looking for the backlit glow of green moss and the luminous burst of color through the clouds of sunset. These events are amazing things - little fireworks that happen every time the sun shines - and require only that we watch. To me, each one is now a little prize, a private joy given by a sly universe.
Today I was given another gift. Today I learned a little about the subtle nature of The Light: the light during the drizzle of a rain storm. The tiny, delicate highlights beamed from a clouded sun, still change with every passing minute, but seemingly slower, a bit attenuated and more subtle. Such a delight; and I only had to look.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Sea Shape
Found sitting atop a piece of driftwood with an underblanket of a sandy kelp leaf, looking out to sea.
Alki Beach, near Seattle, Washington 16 September 2005
Alki Beach, near Seattle, Washington 16 September 2005
Monday, September 04, 2006
Sleeping in a sunbeam, Zurich Hauptbahnhoff
I see this woman sleeping in the Zurich train station frequently. No one bothers her and she sleeps peacefully with virtually tens of thousands of people bustling around her constantly for hours at a time.
I often wonder about her story.
I often wonder about her story.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Lotus Blossom: Split/Duotone
The Sacred and the Profane. Or maybe just tiny bugs on a pure white Water Lily blossom.
The toning/tinting experiments continue. This version of this image was first split toned with cyan and sepia, and then tinted as a Gold (Au) duotone.
Taken in Marymoor Park, Redmond, Washington on 20 August 2006.
The toning/tinting experiments continue. This version of this image was first split toned with cyan and sepia, and then tinted as a Gold (Au) duotone.
Taken in Marymoor Park, Redmond, Washington on 20 August 2006.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Sailboat Reflections
Taken in the early morning at the Center for Wooden Boats in Seattle, Washington.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Kayak Love I: Watch Your Lines
This couple drifted carefully into the Ballard Locks, locked arms and rode the twenty odd foot rise back up to Lake Union level. What isn't shown here is that they were sharing the lock with 3 or so sailboats and a hundred foot motor yacht. They looked like toothpicks in a deep well when the water started filling the lock. Quite the ride for them, I'm sure.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Monday, July 10, 2006
Throwing on the Wheel: Hands and Clay
An acquaintace, Mike Olivero, was throwing pottery at the Yakima Folklife Festival on Saturday. Throwing is an expressive art and one I'd like to try a bit someday; Mike made it look easy but there is obviously lots of memory and experience in his hands.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
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