Tea: Iced Chocolate Chai
Music: The Producers, "She Sheila"
Time: Night
What is it about the green of aged copper? I've been trying to figure it out. It's more than the color itself -- although that sea-green (yes, that's a Crayola reference) shade does have something to do with it.
(Speaking of Crayola, what *is* burnt umber? I know they don't make that color any more, but it's still bugging me.)
Whatever it is, for me it's always That Green -- capitalized -- and I can't take my eyes off of it.
Could be time for a camera expedition soon. The Great Patina Hunt of 2008, anyone?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Only For a Moment and the Moment's Gone
Tea: Chai
Music: The Jayhawks, "Blue"
Time: Night.
Hied myself to Homer's Coffeehouse in Overland Park today, to get some editing done and spend some of the gift certificate my fourth graders gave me for Christmas.
There was a stray pink glove in the snowy parking lot.
Horrid me, my first thought wasn't, "Oh, some poor person has a cold hand." It was "Oooh. Must take pictures."
So I did. Eight of them, to be exact. Then I went inside, had a mocha and a bagel, and plunged headfirst into words for more than an hour. When I came out, it was warmer and the glove was half-submerged in a puddle.
So, of course, I pulled the camera out again. But something was wrong. No matter how I tried, I kept getting my own reflection in the shot.
I may go back later this week to see things in a different light. Maybe the glove will be there. Maybe it won't. Either way, there'll be no second chance to capture the shot I missed earlier today.
And that's fine. I'd rather take my chances on tricks of light than engineer all the reality out of a photograph. There's something appealing in capturing an image that can never be captured the same way again -- which more than makes up for any angst at missing one.
For me, I suppose, that's the difference between a photograph and a photo illustration. It's an odd sort of parse, I know. Maybe it's because for me, photography is like haiku. There's a moment, briefly captured, that is sure to change -- and some things are more beautiful for being transitory.
Music: The Jayhawks, "Blue"
Time: Night.
Hied myself to Homer's Coffeehouse in Overland Park today, to get some editing done and spend some of the gift certificate my fourth graders gave me for Christmas.
There was a stray pink glove in the snowy parking lot.
Horrid me, my first thought wasn't, "Oh, some poor person has a cold hand." It was "Oooh. Must take pictures."
So I did. Eight of them, to be exact. Then I went inside, had a mocha and a bagel, and plunged headfirst into words for more than an hour. When I came out, it was warmer and the glove was half-submerged in a puddle.
So, of course, I pulled the camera out again. But something was wrong. No matter how I tried, I kept getting my own reflection in the shot.
I may go back later this week to see things in a different light. Maybe the glove will be there. Maybe it won't. Either way, there'll be no second chance to capture the shot I missed earlier today.
And that's fine. I'd rather take my chances on tricks of light than engineer all the reality out of a photograph. There's something appealing in capturing an image that can never be captured the same way again -- which more than makes up for any angst at missing one.
For me, I suppose, that's the difference between a photograph and a photo illustration. It's an odd sort of parse, I know. Maybe it's because for me, photography is like haiku. There's a moment, briefly captured, that is sure to change -- and some things are more beautiful for being transitory.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Sometimes I Wish ...
Tea: Mandarin Green with Honey
Music: Holly Cole, "Make it Go Away"
Time: Night.
I have a friend who can feel others' pain. Literally.
It's something for which I've wished on more than one occasion -- not only to be able to feel it but to bear it, and not only pain but illness.
But I couldn't. And I still can't. And that, sometimes, is its own kind of pain.
She says it's nothing for which I should wish.
Still do sometimes, though ... still do.
Music: Holly Cole, "Make it Go Away"
Time: Night.
I have a friend who can feel others' pain. Literally.
It's something for which I've wished on more than one occasion -- not only to be able to feel it but to bear it, and not only pain but illness.
But I couldn't. And I still can't. And that, sometimes, is its own kind of pain.
She says it's nothing for which I should wish.
Still do sometimes, though ... still do.
Monday, January 28, 2008
A Charlie Brown Day
Tea: White Grapefruit with Honey
Music: Vince Guaraldi Trio, "Linus and Lucy"
Time: Night
My day hasn't been scripted entirely by Charles Schulz, but it's been close.
I did manage to get all but the last four pieces (which still have to be ordered) matted and framed for the photo show in March and April. But along the way, I managed to completely clear a table by accident when I stood up, didn't realize I had somehow become attached to my matting cloth and started to walk away.
Markers and tape littered the floor. At least I'd cleared the glass stuff a minute earlier.
But on the positive side of Charlie Brownhood, I got to do the happy dance once more when friend/collaborator/undefinable kindred spirit Seánan Forbes got her first New York byline, in the Jobs section of the New York Post. Check it out here. (Actually, it's a bit of a gloat dance. I told her she was good enough to get the gig without having to show previous clips, and she was -- and is.)
I just hope the Schulzian day doesnt' carry over into tomorrow. It's supposed to turn cold -- and while this yellow sweater with the zigzag stripe keeps my top half warm, 30-degree weather won't be any fun in these shorts.
Music: Vince Guaraldi Trio, "Linus and Lucy"
Time: Night
My day hasn't been scripted entirely by Charles Schulz, but it's been close.
I did manage to get all but the last four pieces (which still have to be ordered) matted and framed for the photo show in March and April. But along the way, I managed to completely clear a table by accident when I stood up, didn't realize I had somehow become attached to my matting cloth and started to walk away.
Markers and tape littered the floor. At least I'd cleared the glass stuff a minute earlier.
But on the positive side of Charlie Brownhood, I got to do the happy dance once more when friend/collaborator/undefinable kindred spirit Seánan Forbes got her first New York byline, in the Jobs section of the New York Post. Check it out here. (Actually, it's a bit of a gloat dance. I told her she was good enough to get the gig without having to show previous clips, and she was -- and is.)
I just hope the Schulzian day doesnt' carry over into tomorrow. It's supposed to turn cold -- and while this yellow sweater with the zigzag stripe keeps my top half warm, 30-degree weather won't be any fun in these shorts.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Bridgework
Tea: Mandarin Orange.
Music: Nik Kershaw, "Wouldn't it be Good"
Time: Night.
Been thinking much about bridges lately, for lots of reasons.
Time, perhaps, to begin writing about one again.
Can't say too much, but I hope you'll all be reading about it someday.
So here's to bridges, and the building thereof.
Music: Nik Kershaw, "Wouldn't it be Good"
Time: Night.
Been thinking much about bridges lately, for lots of reasons.
Time, perhaps, to begin writing about one again.
Can't say too much, but I hope you'll all be reading about it someday.
So here's to bridges, and the building thereof.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Nightlight
Tea: Matcha.
Music: Angels and Airwaves, "The Adventure"
Time: Night.
This ain't heavy, it's my blog post.
Under Section J of the Unilateral Code, this is Goofy Day. So in honor of same, here's ... well, Goofy.
And here and here and here. Go watch 'em fast. I hear Disney gets all upset when people get free laughs.
Music: Angels and Airwaves, "The Adventure"
Time: Night.
This ain't heavy, it's my blog post.
Under Section J of the Unilateral Code, this is Goofy Day. So in honor of same, here's ... well, Goofy.
And here and here and here. Go watch 'em fast. I hear Disney gets all upset when people get free laughs.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Thoroughly Something or Other
Tea: Lapsang Vanilla with Honey
Music: "Thoroughly Modern Millie"
Time: Night.
I went to see a really good high school production of -- well, I'm sure you can guess the musical -- tonight. Good casting, solid performances. And lest anyone forget those out of the line of sight -- it was a spot-on night from the pit and the stagehands.
It takes so many things to make any production come together. It only takes one thing to mar it. The box office loses a ticket order. An usher abandons post. A cue gets missed, a reed squeaks ... and the spell is broken.
Check that. The spell's bent, not broken. Even a wretchedly overacted performance by the star (who, being the director as well, managed to fail at two jobs simultaneously) in an off-Broadway production of "The Screwtape Letters," which I saw in November, couldn't detract from the flawless performance of the lone supporting character.
Sometimes, the magic's not in the grand things but in the small. Sometimes it's in a moment that passes, yet resonates. And sometimes it's in even getting something to the stage at all.
So what's it all mean?
Who knows? But every day is showtime, isn't it, in one way or another? So dim the houselights, turn your cell phone to "vibrate," and we'll get some ice cream at intermission.
Music: "Thoroughly Modern Millie"
Time: Night.
I went to see a really good high school production of -- well, I'm sure you can guess the musical -- tonight. Good casting, solid performances. And lest anyone forget those out of the line of sight -- it was a spot-on night from the pit and the stagehands.
It takes so many things to make any production come together. It only takes one thing to mar it. The box office loses a ticket order. An usher abandons post. A cue gets missed, a reed squeaks ... and the spell is broken.
Check that. The spell's bent, not broken. Even a wretchedly overacted performance by the star (who, being the director as well, managed to fail at two jobs simultaneously) in an off-Broadway production of "The Screwtape Letters," which I saw in November, couldn't detract from the flawless performance of the lone supporting character.
Sometimes, the magic's not in the grand things but in the small. Sometimes it's in a moment that passes, yet resonates. And sometimes it's in even getting something to the stage at all.
So what's it all mean?
Who knows? But every day is showtime, isn't it, in one way or another? So dim the houselights, turn your cell phone to "vibrate," and we'll get some ice cream at intermission.
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