The other night we had a garden dinner party, and I took a bunch of pictures. I like this photo from the end of the night.
It’s completely untouched, it’s slightly out of focus due to the long-shutter required, and the ISO factor is working as hard as it can. I don’t think it’s necessarily high quality.
I like it because it looks like a painting.
See the moonlight playing on the clouds, up behind that tree? I think it looks like a watercolor painting.
This was the sky last night. I was at a private party for some special artists – I was working the party, stationed at the front door.
I loved the sky. This old building was across the street, and the sky was a brilliant blue. There was a cool breeze rushing down the dead-end road, near the tracks in part of the Northeast warehouse area.
Artists from a wide range of disciplines were showing up for a foundation’s celebration, a celebration of the artists themselves. There was food and drinks and performances.
It was sort of an organized happening.
There were people of all ages, wearing everything from shorts and nasty old t-shirts to tuxedos. No one knew how to dress for such an occasion – everyone dressed as they wanted.
Old friends were glad to see each other again, to talk about the past and about the present.
I wasn’t one of the special artists. Almost no one there knew who I was. That was fine. I was genuinely happy to see various artists – writers, choreographers, musicians, performers of many kinds, photographers – all being celebrated.
People rolled in to the event in a constant flow – everyone excited to be there, to see who else would show up.
One man seemed most excited that his 18 year old son had decided to join the festivity. He had to ask if it was going to be ok that his kid be there.
“It’s not the kind of thing he usually would come to. He’s 18, you know?”
And that’s how the highlight for me became when I saw the kid show up, wearing a decent pair of pants and tucked in button-up shirt. Spit shined for his father’s big party. His father, the artist. The same artist I overheard talking about his night-shift day-job. I wondered if the kid only came because this is Father’s Day weekend? If that was his motivation, does it matter?
I was struck by the light of the sky, and thought I’d capture my own slight bit of art on a night celebrating artists. And I took this shot with my phone.
Just like the party – art, and a pretty picture, is always around us. In some way, I guess, life can always be a happening.
I’ve been missing from here for a while.
The holidays were a blur and…
I passed this house on a small, cobblestone street in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.
I was astounded by the cluttered architecture, the myriad balconies, and the miles of overhead wires.
I wondered if it were for rent.
I could stay a while.
And create some thing all new.
I think I’ve once again proven to myself that any creative outlet I have, no matter what form, helps keep me sane.
But mostly sane.
This is a picture of the way the sky looked this morning as I headed out to work. (I certainly don’t want to even think about the ol’ day job, but it’s been a bear lately.) This morning there was this strange sunrise, where there were clear streaks of pink in the west, and this pink and purple and golden streaks in the east. It was really odd, and had a weird feeling. (This picture is completely untouched.)
So I snapped a picture. It was unexpected and beautiful. It made me think about the uniqueness of life, and the changeability. I knew those colors would be gone very soon, never to return. It made me think about living in the moment, in the here and now, and taking control of what’s happening. It made think about enjoying what’s in front of me and making the best of whatever that is at the moment. It made me realize life can be unexpected and surreal. Yesterday the sky didn’t have streaks of yellow or pink like this, but why today?
All this from a sunrise.
It also reminded me of the projects I have percolating. In some strange way, it made me think that anything’s possible with them.
Odd perhaps, but that’s how I felt.
Tonight I made some last minute changes to a script for a short (short) video, that we’re shooting tomorrow. Over the next week I’ll edit and tweak it in to something. I have an image of what it is. Whether I can pull that off or not is yet to be seen.
This coming week is the Fringe drawing, so I’ll know whether it’s time to buckle down and start on that project or not. That puts me a bit on edge, mostly due to pressure I’ll put on myself if we get in.
Tonight I chose this picture for my photo project. It seemed appropriate. And timely.
The itch is getting scratched. Slowly.
And ain’t that a helluva sky?