the hard decisions

the sea. march 2013.

night visions from the past

kapa'a. march 2013.

there's no one there

kapa'a, kauai. march 2013.

the place where i want to get married

the farm. december 2011. 

this was the jury's pick for the 26th emeryville art exhibition, which opens tonight at 6pm. 5890 christie avenue, emeryville. free, 11am-6pm daily, oct 6-28, 2012.

who is the fairest of them all?

the farm. december 2011.

still lives

 

the farm. december 2011. 

at home, pre-eclipse

the other north oakland. december 2011.

the art of protest

occupy oakland. november 2011.

create live dream

occupy oakland. november 2011.

a mist slowly rising

lost coast. november 2008.

my first vacation as an employed individual, post grad school. shortly after this photo the clouds cleared to a perfectly blue sky, and i remember thinking to myself as i walked along the beach, "this is what my life will be like, now. i can just take time off and go on trips and not have anything to worry about." and i remember feeling so free -- of all the worries of grad school, and unemployment, and living at home. i was completely in the moment, taking pictures of waves, observing the extending coastline stretching north. i was a person on a beach, and that's exactly where i was meant to be.

table and branches, bones

sonoma, ca. february 2009.

doorways to nowhere

monterey. march 2011.

underneath

monterey. march 2011.

a crushing weight above, and expansive view beyond.

Goats

Camp. 2009.

Stars and Hexagons

Shelter Cover, CA. 2008.

Okay, so this is really the Lost Coast again. But what a wonderful place it is! I can't wait to go back--perhaps there will even be sunny weather for more than two hours.

The lighthouse mini-park was nicely designed, with the unchanged ragged beach still easy to climb down to. Families clambered along, calling out to each other. Even the sun didn't make it warm enough to take off your wind layer.

Knitting in the Dark

Camp. 2010.

What Is There Left to Harvest?

Camp. 2010.

Grasses, green from brown.
Mushrooms in the forest.
Gooey orange sprouting between pine needles,
shy brown and cream from the rotting log.

Clouds are clearing from the afternoon rain;
Trees are letting go their extra moisture.
Young saplings stretch and toss and bow
in the gusty coming of dark.

This road used to have wagons on it.
Men and women sweat, here, to make something:
old houses, sashes loose, floors releasing down.
Irrelevant fences stand forgotten in the new woods.

Green bark faces north.
Stars shift and roll, unhinged.
Bloated streams scrape the soaked ground up
and carry it forth to the sea.

Sitting (with tile)

Gorilla Cafe, Berkeley. 2008.

Bones

The Farm, Santa Rosa, CA. 2009.

I don't have anything to say about this pile of bones, so instead, here's a poem for Raciel.

Pick up you, little girl.
There's the slats of the bed, falling down.
They need righting.
Lay you down on the dark floor
And reach under your slumbering place
To your dust-covered toys,
Your infant clothes saved for wistfulness only.
Pick up you, little girl,
And reach through that rust metal frame.
Latch on to that floating timber,
That pine support for your dreams.

Getting Lost

Lost Coast. 2008.

Clearly I'm in love with the Lost Coast.