My.Third.Eye Photography

Human Face Followed by Abstract in Red and Black and White

Three New Abstracts

 

 

 

 

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Stained Glass - Muted, Veiled, a Passing Moment

Mural Abstracted

This is a close-up shot of a portion of a disintegrating mural (a boring scene that wasn't that artistic or beautiful when the mural was new, and is now even less appealing) on the exterior wall of the Bernal Heights neighborhood library. In front of the mural, you see a portion of a black iron handrail. I liked how the photo came out looking sort of like an abstract painting.

Three with Blue

First one is an abstract shot of our living room armoire, much uglier in reality than in this photo. Second one is a macro shot of the side of a dumpster. Third one is a combination of two photos -- a window shade and a ceiling that had swirling rust colored curves painted on it -- layered into one photo. Then I reversed the colors.

Now I'm going to get busy creating a lesson plan for my fifth and last Tuesday night class, "I Want to Write BUT...". I have only the haziest of ideas for what to do, because I find it so difficult to narrow down hundreds of possibilities/possible approaches/possible angles . . .  into only three or four writing exercises plus a few well-chosen words and examples. When the class ends, I will rush home to try and get to bed asap (by 10:30 p.m.) in order to get up really early and drive to Santa Barbara for a doctor's appointment at 2:30 p.m., then we will drive back the same day. A packed week coming up, filled with teaching, driving, doctors, infusions, more doctors, and many impending medical decisions, which I will be writing about (in teeny tiny increments) in my other blog, My Great Breast Cancer Adventure.

I'm also awaiting a phone call from a potential new subletter. Hard to believe we've been subletting our "guest" room for more than a year now. We started doing it last October because we needed the extra money. Still do. So we live with a stream of strangers, revolving-door style, a new one every one to four months. The current one is rarely around, our ideal subletter. Almost a ghost. Is getting back together with his wife/child, and thus has ended up spending more time there than here. The one prior to the current one was an adorable young Frenchman, the same age and name as my son. He too was rarely around...worked very long hours every day and often Saturdays too. Then went out on Sundays. Guillaume. He had such a cute accent.

 

Parking Lot: Asian Echoes

Had it really been three weeks since her last post? Jane took in the realization that never got any easier to process. Three weeks! Twenty-one days! Forget trying to calculate the number of hours, minutes, pills taken, meals eaten, bills paid, envelopes opened, walks gone on, words read, pictures snapped, dishes washed, carbs ingested, questions unanswered, decisions unmade, decisions made, days with sun, days without sun, dog whines, memories, vows, fleeting but treasured moments, mail deliveries, creative urges, epiphanies, cancellations, appointments, Craig's list posting renewals...uh oh. She had forgotten to renew that "temporary room for sublet" ad. Time to go get that done, then off to Modern Times Bookstore to deliver a stack of Writing Salon cards to be distributed at tonight's fiction reading (all the Writing Salon fiction teachers). She wouldn't be there, which was why she was delivering the cards early. She needed some down time away from work, so that she could focus on the next round of medical decisions she had to make. Ooops, that was something she was supposed to be blogging about separately, on her other, non-photo blog, My Great Breast Cancer Adventure. Try as she might, her various blogs all kept overlapping. So much for her attempts to compartmentalize Life.

Little Church on the Corner

There's a little old white church building on the corner of Ogden and Moultrie streets. I have been walking by it several time a week for the last 17 years. Up until two years ago, the church housed an all black congregation. I'm not sure what the denomination was, but every Sunday morning you could hear rousing gospel music, instrumentals included, bursting out through the walls. The ladies were decked out in their chartreuse, hot pink, turquoise and canary yellow Sunday best, wide-brimmed fancy hats included. I loved the music and I loved the different slice of life that the church brought to our neighborhood. Sometimes I fantasized buying the building, if it were ever to be put up for sale. And then one day there it was, the For Sale sign. but although the church is a small two-story (probably with landmark status), it sits on a double lot, and so there is a huge side yard with trees and lots of open space. The price was out of range for the likes of me and Jack, plus it would have required major renovations.

A youngi'sh, hipp'ish couple bought it. He does something interesting relating to music production/recordings. I'm not sure what she does, but she appears to have been doing quite a bit of the renovation work, herself. They've been at it for a long time. I think they do a little bit, run out of money, stop, scrimp, save, do a little bit more, etc. Most recently, they put in a huge garden. Just wonderful. A couple of days ago, I saw tarps and more signs of new construction. I love construction sites. They almost always hold an interesting picture or two, and they keep the neighborhood from being boringly the same.

Sleek. No Ruffles.

I never think of my neighborhood, Bernal Heights, as being anything but a funky eclectic mix of relatively inexpensive tiny cottages (relative to Pacific Heights, let's say) on up to middle range-priced houses. The overall feeling is homey and traditional or neo-traditional. Not much on the architecture front that would qualify as modern. No sleek minimalist lines for us Bernalites.

But yesterday's 10:30 a.m. shadows on Prentiss Street looked sleek and modern. This may be one of the sleekest abstracts I've ever done. I could see it framed in someone's high tech minimalist penthouse living room with huge windows on every side, looking out over an outrageous view of San Francisco. Mostly neutral colors, of course, with only the occasional spot of taxi cab yellow in a crystal vase, or a strategically placed purple throw pillow.

I wouldn't have seen the geometry if Olivia hadn't insisted on digging her feet in and bracing herself against my tug on her leash as she rooted around in a patch of stinky dirty dog heaven. I gave in, looked across the street, let my eyes move up toward the sky, let the angles and lines sink in.

Speaking of Ms.Olivia, she's busy chasing a fat fly around in the house. It came in through the open back door, which I opened because how could I not, on such a sunny spring day? 

That's about it. Mainly I'm still working on trying to fix the Writing Salon's broken website registration system. Have been trying for two months, to no avail. I should be tearing my hair out but...been there, done that. So I'm acting all enlightened and mellow, like it doesn't bother me one bit. Like I don't sweat the small or the large stuff, ever.

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Orderly Commotion

Found Warehouse Collage

HaphazArt Squared!

Thirty-two of my abstract photos are featured (along with those of two other featured artists and several other photographers) in the now-available hard-cover edition of Haphazart Magazine Issue #2 (curated and designed by the editors of the Haphazart! group, a popular group on Flickr that showcases "urban abstracts").

The book (they call it a magazine but actually it's a 12x12, full color hardback book) is available through Blurb (print on demand). However, I doubt that any of my friends can afford this fancy coffee-table "collector's edition," so I've created a less expensive option:

Here's a link to my QOOP store, where you can buy the "bargain hunter's" calendar version of the book (not the whole book, just my photos):

HaphazArt+Squared%21.

Or if you want to view it online for free (not as good as something PRINTED!), go HERE