Cinematic rescue

   This is a photo from the San Francisco Chronicle of a rescue of people from a capsized boat off the coast of San Francisco after dusk on January 27th, 2012. Although I don't generally enjoy the dramatic in visual arts, this image here just astounds me. The illumination of the scene (even though it was probably produced by a powerful light), seems to come from nowhere. It's as if this is a historical painting, with Jesus Christ being carried from the cross instead of a fisherman from the Pacific Ocean.

Horizon less

   I took this picture at Ocean Beach this morning. I really love the fog: it can provide a gentle haze around objects, or completely oscure them from view, as it has done here. There is really something very special to me about feeling the cool air and hearing the sound of waves breaking in the distance, without being able to see the source. All that violence and power subdued by that murky layer.

   Off to the right there is an outcropping called Seal Rocks, where I flung the cremated ashes of my father towards nearly five years ago. I can't see them, but I know they're there.

Night and life

   I was sitting in my car near the beach, when I saw something moving. As it neared a light, I realized that it was a striped skunk. I looked for it but could not find it, so I took a few pictures, hoping that the flash would reveal it. Still outside of my vision, I know that there is life there in the darkness.

Gopher hole

I am often fascinated by activities which point to the life that I do not experience directly.

The island

I took this picture from China Camp State Park, in San Rafael, California. It looks both

peaceful and lonely to me. At times, I think that the two must necessarily go together.

Fog, dusk, and the end of my work week.

The convergence of marine layer, time of day and me. I had just left work when I took this picture, and was tired from the week. The weather and light seemed to both illustrate and justify my internal state.