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Showing posts from August, 2007


My backpack sat open on the driver’s seat. I was stuffing last things into it. I made a little nest out of a fleece pullover, put half a dozen bananas in it, and carefully stowed it in the top of my pack where it wouldn’t get squished. (Monkey-cams, in general, become very cross on those occasions when you proffer bruised bananas as reward for risky photography work.)

I could see the Monkey-cam sitting in the passenger seat of the car, staring out the side window, sulking. (Note: The Monkey-cam and I, by mutual consent, have agreed not to call each other by our given names. We believe that this policy will help depersonalize our working relationship and allow us to more easily recover from grief should disaster befall one or the other of us during our photo expeditions.)

I ducked down and leaned into the car. “O.K.,” I relented, “would you feel any better about it if I agreed to carry all the water?”

The Monkey-cam whipped his head around and glared at me as if I was the world’s most stu…

Art & Perception

I’ve been visiting an interesting web site called Art & Perception. If you visit, you’ll find a community of artists who share their personal journeys toward understanding what it might mean to make/share/express art. This is accomplished through the regular posting of articles that have to do with various pursuits in the fields of drawing, painting and photography. What makes it a pleasure to visit is that while you could hardly gather together a more disparate group of people and viewpoints, they all seem to be genuinely supportive of each other and their accumulated wisdom and experience makes for some very useful suggestions and encouraging comments.

One article that captured my attention was called Breaking Up is Hard to Do which dealt with making ‘Cubist-like multi-perspective’ images.

I had just spent some time in The Dalles, hiking in an alien landscape of tinder dry grasses and basalt outcroppings. Somet…

Perceiving Time at SMITH & BYBEE LAKES (again)

I don’t have a lot to say this time.

I guess maybe I’ll have to trust that the images will contain the narrative for a change. I hope it will suffice to say that having a lake to visit regularly is like having a finger on the pulse of the seasons.

None of the other leaves liked Harold because of his pessimistic, apocalyptic attitude. Little did they know that Harold was simply ahead of his time.

I wish I could describe the sound that the leaves make, fluttering in the wind. In much the same way that an infinite number of monkeys sitting at typwriters are said to be able to produce the works of Shakespeare, so too, an infinite number of leaves blowing in a stiff August breeze eventually come up with a pretty competent blues session. (Editor's Note: Scott knows nothing about the Blues.)


A Unible (about half as good as a parable - or worse)
by scott

The terrible accident put an end to the dangerous trapeze act.
(dramatic pause)
…some time later, another acrobat appeared at the circus employment office to fill the vacancy created by the accident.
At first, the resident acrobat could not be coaxed back onto the trapeze.
But acrobats are not well suited to sweep up peanut shells….He could not stay away for long. In the beginning their timing was off.
But It got better.
…and soon the accident was almost forgotten.
The trapeze act opened again. The bleachers were filled to capacity...
...and then some.
It was soon time to try the death-defying 42 somersault sky-leap with the special over-torque effect.
“…Never before attempted!” said the circus master, “…successfully.” he added.
Suddenly the resident acrobat remembered the accident.And when it came time to leap…he didn’t let go.
The two acrobats looked silly just hanging there.
The crowd said, “Boooo!”
…and the act came to an end…but o…