pink explosion in the desert

balboa. october 2012.

reminds me of hong kong...which is what happened the last time i was in san diego. maybe they're on the same latitude. or maybe they're both warm, smoggy places.

summer sky

backyard. october 2012.

when you know what you like

oakland. march 2012.

on the day of the marathon; cloudy, but not rainy. cool.

pink blooms coated in yellow

oakland. march 2012.

plum tree after sunset.

dapled shade dapled sun

edith street. february 2012.

spring in the garden

 

 edith street. february 2012.

is it spring if winter never happened? more evidence that the happy ending is more enjoyable if it comes at the end of a struggle. 

also, does anyone know how to read braille? i was under the impression that it was the same as english, but with dots. not so. 

but flowers aren't critical

home. september 2011.

i saw my breath this morning, and then half an hour later was warm enough to ride to work without a jacket on. clear, sunny day; some red haze on the horizon after the sun went down. read an article in an old new yorker about a critic from the 1930's - 1960's which really examined the role a critic plays in culture and society--to firm up ideas, clarify connections, and make people think about their decisions more, well, critically. elucidating.

i love when a short article can make me think about a new idea; when i can feel that idea being incorporated into my world view.

wallflower

emeryville, ca. september 2011.

this building is going to be torn down, and is actually quite a nice building, but has seen too many years of neglect to be salvaged. the issue at this point is that there are homeless people living inside who would probably be crushed when the building fell down in the next earthquake. so down it comes now. in the meanwhile, this dandelion has somehow taken root in the mortar between two bricks. 

the bay, below

marin headlands. july 2011.

big hug

hilligas and claremont. june 2011.

solo show

wellington botanical gardens. april 2011.

cloudy day colors

Emeryville. 2010.

Bloom

North East Corner of Glacier. 2010.

Because it's pretty.

Yellow Light, Red Flowers

Home. 2010.

Orchid in the Redwood Litter

Leonard Lake. 2010.

Spring Colors

Home. 2010.

Calla Lilies; Towel

Home. 2010.

What can I say, I like calla lilies.

Shadows Against House

Home. 2009.

The calla lilies grow right at the foot of my front steps. I've always wanted to take more night photography. Now to get my hands on a tripod...

Red Curb

San Francisco. 2008.

I took this on a meandering hike through the hills of San Francisco. It was the summer after grad school, I was without a job, and graduation was recent enough that I was glad to be unemployed and free to wander and have stretches of unscheduled time--and wasn't yet stressed about being jobless.

A friend and I walked up hills so steep there were stairs for sidewalks (and even these had to snake back and forth). It was hot, we got sweaty, I loved it.

Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

Home. 2010.

Red tulips for valentine's day. They were closed, and then suddenly exploded to the ground a few days later. Such large, voluptuous petals. Flowers you could stick your whole face into.

A long break, a silent time away. A time to reflect on how much I am a solar powered being. On how much sun; sunshine; blue skies; warm air; open flowers; the smell of drying earth; sunsets; hot cement; playful shadows; and squinted eyes mean to me, and to my ability to be a joyful presence in the world.

I love you, world. Now show me all you've got.