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17 August 2008
While composing a shot of pigeons chilling on an I-beam during lunch at the marina, someone behind me chucked a french fry on the barge. Madness ensued.
27 July 2008
Forgetting where you’re from is like a cigarette. Maybe you give into it when you’re stressed, or when you’re drinking. And sparingly and very occasionally, it won’t be the cause of your downfall. But make a habit of it and it’ll lead to an internal growth of a foreign culture, one that you might not notice until it’s too late to stop it.
24 June 2008
I’d never torn out a page of a Green Apple notebook before this trip, but if you come across two volumes in my archives missing pages, know that they are neither notes on an assassination nor the map to the holy grail, but leaves burned in service of a fire at Kalaloch, WA, the evening of 8 June 2008, cabin #15 overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I wondered briefly what ideas and sketches were supposed to fill those pages, now given to burn. In a way, I’d burned a lot of good ideas and better judgment to arrive at that cabin that night. Before I left for Portland, she told me that if I lived in LA, things might have been different. Of course.
11 June 2008
I didn’t really mean to take this picture. I was on the plane at O’Hare browsing through shots from my trip to the Pacific Northwest, and I wanted to start again at the most recent shot and didn’t feel like scrolling through more than 300 pictures to get there. The easiest way to get there was to shoot a new picture, put it back into playback mode, and browse from there. So I held my lens against the window and shot this.
5 June 2008
Hardly five days back from Port-au-Prince and I’m moving the one-quart plastic bag of liquids and aerosols from my rolling suitcase to my duffle bag and filling the rest of the space with clothes appropriate to the current Portland weather—a mild peak of 57 from a low of 52, intermittent rain. And when I return on Wednesday, I’ll have a mere 36 hours before I receive Eric for a two-week stay.
And this seems to be the prevailing pattern for 2008: travel somewhere new, host an old friend.
1 June 2008
Chris: “I love sailing, but some people say it’s a way of going nowhere slowly at great expense.”
Me: “I work for the federal government. I could get used to sailing.”
27 May 2008
Back from a second whirlwind weekend in New York in as many weeks, and there’s a veritable goon squad of deadlines bearing down in the next eleven hours before I leave for Port-au-Prince. Nevertheless, I have a new camera for the trip—93/75 with thundershowers, 6-megapixel sensor and 18-55mm Nikkor kit lens, and the general feeling […]
15 May 2008
Some people want to be dressed their best, laid in silk-lined boxes, covered in dirt, topped with stone. Some want to be frozen, preserved, to see a future that will reanimate the dead. Some want to be incinerated, returned to dust and inertness.
I think this is for me …
2008 November 11
Some families set their dramas on the stage of a castle, a city apartment, a suburban bungalow. Mine was wed to the four wheels of a 1990 Toyota truck.
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