While chronologically not appearing at this point in the narration, this strategically picked picture is intended to attract the attention of internet passers-by. Sgt. Rock and I set out in my un-trusty automobile under something I like to call a photographically promising sky - a 'shit-ton' (scientific term) of discrete clouds growing and calving...and stampeding here and there as the day wore on. Impending 'retirement' and homelessness, a giant monster that I refuse to see looming on the horizon, never-the-less whispers subliminal threats to my ego (I guess) and causes me to stop out of fascination at scenes loaded with lost purpose. Sgt. Rock alternatively looks for lost treasure that only he can recognize. I've been here before. There are more empties. More bird crap. More graffiti (including an impressive new pornographic triptych). And there is more peeling away of sheetrock skin from brittle wooden ribs. Peering out at the wonde...
a photographer's take on ART, SCIENCE & THEOLOGY in the Pacific Northwest