Saturday, February 03, 2007

One Hundred Famous Ghosts (37), 2007

Another "stunt double" replacing an insufficiently scary original. A little surprised to find these guys growing progressively more whacked out and expressionistic as they go. #47 (below) must be a George Clinton relative, P-Funk shades and all. And the little red guy above is not pleased to be sighted. The ghostly equivalent of one of those tiny barking dogs whose self-image is of a much larger, more dangerous animal.

Ghosts are cast-offs, things no longer performing an original function, visibly changed by their passage through time.

One Hundred Famous Ghosts (47), 2007
Friday, February 02, 2007
The middle-aged couple beside me at the Starbucks condiment stand is breaking up.

"No," she says, "I want you to know. I'm extremely appreciative. I thought you'd be defensive--"

He's trying to make some point, speaking so fast and low I can't follow. Pouring cream into his coffee, so focused on what he's saying that he pours unceasingly, overflowing the paper cup. Tan-colored cream pools on the countertop.

"No. I thought you should know--"

And I'm out of there, I'm gone.
Best headline-transformed-into-band-name-ever: SEX LAW UNDER FIRE

North Shore Tree, 2007

Two days off sleeping and walking in the sun. An Anodyne Inc. distribution while I was gone:

Dominion Citrus Income Fund (DOM.UN) 12,346 units x .01/unit = $123.46

Cash balance, $144.12

"She felt saturated with her own competence" (Keith Maillard, Gloria)

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

A much younger cjb, and a much uglier fleece, high and offroute on Tunnel Vision (5.7), Red Rocks, Nevada. Photo by dru. Good memories of one of my favorite places.

Same Old Thing in Brand-New Drag

Clear in the west tonight, days incrementally lengthening, rich scents of earth and blossom.

Road salt along the margin where the sidewalk meets the windows, dry powery dust. Tracked through on everything: the front room carpet, the office carpet, the tiles.

The sun shifted along just enough to rekindle the illusion of depth in two-dimensional things. I find myself watching light more than ever before, the way it wraps and contains a magnolia bud, a vendor's sharply drawn-back hair, my brother's cocked wrist.

Recent reading:

Laurie Colwin, Home Cooking
Edward Chancellor, Devil Take the Hindmost: A History of Financial Speculation

Fred Herzog's photographs, up for discussion today by Evan and I. Evan's observation that, in these images, powerlines seem to tie the fragmentary, still cohering, and sign-filled city together. Mallarme's "forest of symbols." As opposed to, say, the conservative red-brick community center going up at Main and Kingsway, or yet another shiny white glass condo populated by actors and new media people with short black coats and chunky black-framed glasses.

(Photo credit: Fred Herzog, Howe and Nelson)
Monday, January 29, 2007

Our innovative new doorstop. Baby Tecla gets the door, while mom ferries boxes to and from the car.

Belaying, 2007. Dru's hands. My latest contribution to Four. The rope runs from the belayer to the climber. The belayer's left hand is relaxed, "feeling" for minute changes in the rope's tension. The right "brake" hand holds the rope firmly, ready to yank back if the climber falls, locking the rope up and preventing the climber from falling further. I've wanted to make a picture of a belayer for a while; it's a meditative and tactile process that's much like operating a handheld digital camera. A lot of looking and adjusting.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
I am:
Gregory Benford
A master literary stylist who is also a working scientist.

Which science fiction writer are you?

Heh. No "WG" "MJH" or "MMcH" option on this thing, evidently.

One Hundred Famous Ghosts (46), 2007

Tolagson pursues the motif, View Towers, Victoria, B.C.

CJB lays love on Max the Maltese. Courtesy guest photographer Evan Lee.

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