There is now organic food in Wal-Mart.
Friday, January 4th, 2008Let the precipitation begin:
[flv:http://www.feather2pixels.com/blog/post_video/rain.flv 320 240]
Archive for the 'photojournaling of debatable quality' Category
Always adjust as needed.
Wednesday, December 5th, 2007How much has this man aged in the last seven years?
The emanation of the Holy Spirit from the Father and later, in the Western Church, from the Son.
Monday, November 12th, 2007The Mission was in top form for last week’s Day of the Dead. The procession traversed a couple of blocks about twenty-fourth street and there were lots of the following:
-candles
-faces painted white
-drums
-(bacon-scented?) incense
To-shi-o, Corinne and I stumbled down the street to take it all in and I’m now convinced that all parades–even non-occult related parades–should take place at night. The darkness enhanced everything good about it: the intrigue, the seemingly controlled chaos, the sense of the familiar becoming unfamiliar. The brown bagged beer also enhanced these things.
[flv:http://www.feather2pixels.com/blog/post_video/dead.flv 400 300]
Oh, and the oil spill. The fucking oil spill. The Chronicle led the next day with a 140 gallon estimate and at an actual figure of 58,000 gallons, as usual, the Chronicle was 0.8% correct. Or 99.2% wrong. Depends on your perspective I guess. Of course, the error isn’t really the Chronicle’s fault (although a six block walk to the bay would have confirmed this number as ridiculous), as everyone is now sorting through the explanation of the USCG’s now famous slowness in getting its story straight (it now appears that at least part of the explanation involves damage to the sounding tubes used to measure tank depth).
Overall it just sucks. Every major beach in the area is closed except Ocean Beach, the greatest of the beaches, and it’s unclear when they will be safe or even if they will ever be truly safe–even small amounts of benzene are enough to can cause drowsiness, dizziness, rapid heart rate, headaches, tremors, confusion, and unconsciousness. Anyway I was on the beach today and it was very unclear what was going on. There were ominous looking signs and loads of workers in white haz-mat outfits picking at the sand, but there were also plenty of surfers, dogs, and general beach miscellany. Are we safe or are we unsafe?
As the media hunts for prey to satiate its never ending bloodlust for blame, the people around me seem to be reacting with varying levels of defensiveness and xenophobia (“Down with Hanjin!”) across party lines. The old boys club at the Maritime Academy (which may actually turn out be the alma mater of the pilot in question) has been decidedly defensive. If you are asking me, they are giving way too much attention to the reactionary nonsense of the first 48 hours, which has included everything from “no single hulled ships in the bay” to “no ships in the bay.” Right. Also, they were really pissed about the front page pictures of oiled birds on day two of the Chronicle’s coverage. One thing conservatives have grown to hate, I’ve noticed, is any level of insinuation that non-human life may be as important as human life. Or human money. Or human jobs.
Wow, for ten minutes I didn’t write on endlessly about myself! (Though you should know I printed some really shitty new postcards this week) Here are some pictures.
The rest of those jerks can’t respond to a text message.
Thursday, November 1st, 2007Halloween in the Mission District took the form of a mass of costumed nine year olds, most with pumpkin buckets and parents in tow. The sheer number of kids in the neighborhood was fairly amazing to me and seeing them all dressed up made Mission Halloween that much better—it all seemed worlds superior to the non-celebration going on in the Castro, where an armada of cops was apparently deployed to ensure that nobody was having too much fun. I was disappointed that our apartment didn’t receive any trick-or-treaters, but apparently hitting up the local businesses rather than residences is more in line with tradition. For the sake of variety, this probably makes more sense and an informal survey discovered vegan mini cupcakes being distributed at Ritual Coffee Roasters, peanut butter cups at the Bartlett/24th liquor store, and mint flavored toothpicks at the take-out Chinese place across from the BART station. As usual, this area was the center of activity.
After a bit of aimless wandering, I put on my biking gloves, climbed up to our back balcony where nobody can see me, and played songs into the cool night air. This is becoming a routine during these solitary times. It finally feels like Fall.
Part of my heritage:
Sunday, October 21st, 2007At one point the city was my best friend. We spent a lot time alone, made each other feel good, and I have many memories of being intoxicated with her beauty. (I think I almost got her pregnant back in the spring of 2004). Now I wake up at five to spend my days in Vallejo and there is the sense that SF and I have drifted apart a little. But it was a sunny weekend of wandering around town around and it felt good to remember that old, mischievous spark.
[flv:http://www.feather2pixels.com/blog/post_video/beach.flv 320 240]
And then, while I was wading along Ocean Beach, two tall guys from Amsterdam asked permission to photograph me for their Dutch design magazine. “We take pictures of people in the park,” they said. They had bad teeth. For fifteen minutes I posed.
And then we surprised A-kik-o (trivia team: general knowledge, handicrafts, geography).
[flv:http://www.feather2pixels.com/blog/post_video/surprise.flv 320 240]
And then Joe and Ana arrived in town for the final leg of their honeymoon.
And then I skipped my open studio show completely because who cares about a bunch of postcards?
The Toronto Star has long been a “family newspaper.”
Sunday, September 30th, 2007Just back from Joe’s mega-wedding in lower Manhattan. Here are some pictures:
[me and nowell]
[ben]
[rascal]
[A.j.S]
[the man of the hour]
cont…
Sunday, September 2nd, 2007The Death Byke Stereo turned out to be a lot less loud outside, surrounded by rush hour traffic. I wouldn’t call it inaudible but, beyond a one bike radius, the Go Team definitely faded into the ether. To-shi-o was pretty disappointed: as a personal stereo it was brilliant, but he obviously had his sights set on bigger things. By the ride home, though, he was already brainstorming modifications and I admire his determination.
And the night wasn’t all defeat. We ran into Sylvia (from the Exploratorium), who helped us finish our water bottle of Jim Beam and who afterwards invited us East (Death Byke Stereo: satisfyingly loud in the BART station). People in the East Bay seem to be fascinated with life, death, and decay and in this way Sylvia’s place might be the most quintessentially East Bay apartment in the history of Oakland. It’s a vortex of plants, composts, found/made furniture, and quirky little messes. After a night of vegetable pizza and homemade beer, To-shi-o and I decided that it ruled.
cont…
Sunday, September 2nd, 2007Here’s a 1 hour photo montage:
[the mass rides west]
[taking a picture of the death byke stereo before the ride]
[model of uncool: helmet & no death byke stereo]
[riding through north beach]
[sylvia]
[passing a street car]
[incapacitating a fake cable car]
[this picture of alfonso came out interestingly]
[the light at the end of the broadway tunnel]
[death byke stereo gets stuck in a BART turnstile]
Bargain with a side of smile.
Tuesday, August 21st, 2007So the ceiling did collapse, a little. Initial reports indicate that the flutist upstairs pointed the shower head at the floor for a while:
And apparently Genl is not only here (back from three weeks in Costa Rica), but she’s the one who made the helpful call to the landlord while I slept. So that stands corrected. So now we just need to get this mess cleaned up and keep living the dream.
A throwback to a character created 15 years ago.
Thursday, July 5th, 2007Homecoming 1 Hour Photos:
corinne
jill and nowell @ the dumpling king
to-shi-o
bulldogger and me
my room
in front of the church of light
.
When you need to know where it is.
Friday, June 29th, 2007Some of the better photos from the trip.
An obligation to mitigate changes
Sunday, April 22nd, 2007I ended up accepting Indy Sarah’s press pass to the Shins show and so on a cold Wednesday night I found myself eastward bound in a taxi down Market Street with her. I was excited; the Shins are good and the Shins are popular, but I had never seen them play and thus couldn’t fully commit to liking them.
We arrived in the middle of the first song, which according to band policy, meant that I had two and a half songs left during which to take pictures via my photo badge. They passed in approximately twenty seconds.
It was about then that I realized I have no idea who these musicians are, much less what they look like. It was a truly disappointing moment. Not that the performance was bad in any way, but it made me realize that all that I know about this music, which I supposedly like, is recordings–just another way to suck the experience out of life. Lots of people before me have expressed that sentiment at concerts but it’s my big thing now and maybe the experience of being behind the cameras cast it in full relief. Anyways, in addition to the digital, I also managed to lug the Polaroid along and by luck snapped this remarkable shot of James Mercer in what looks to be the bowels of hell.
So the verdict: The Shins’ are good performers and their music is intelligent and well-balanced, the logical result of a natural selection process operating on a sea of shitty indie bands, weeding out the undesirable characteristics in a lucky few. The problem is the Shins don’t move me. Until the encore, that is, when they came onstage, harmonicas in hand, and played old shit lithe way Neil Young would have. And sometimes two songs can make a show.
Then I accidentally let Indy Sarah use my chapstick and she gave me a virus.
Close your eyes and sleep.
Wednesday, January 3rd, 2007New York City:
Japan is nothing but an impostor.
Monday, December 11th, 2006When your alarm is set for for 5:30, you see the sun rise every day.
