Showing posts with label The Dalles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Dalles. Show all posts

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Wind Meditations in the Columbia Gorge

Wind racing over the waters
Careening around canyon corners
Ice cold waves leap with delight
...Idiot kayaker, not so much

High desert mountains
Try on a flimsy spring dress of sheer green
Teasing again

Blooming flowers witness
 The grass being whipped
Trembles in the shredding wind

Curious clouds
Sniff alien contrails
As they scurry by

 I don't think flowers
Often experience existential dread
But you never know

 Before the gale
Flickering like bright yellow
Daylight fireflies

 In a symphony of windblown grass
There's no telling which baton
Belongs to the conductor

There's those flowers again
Acting all happy
And shit

Shy plants looking back and away
All the time nodding consent to nothing in particular

 Surveying the dead and wounded
At the end of the grass battle

In memory of those
Who dared to show their faces to the sun

Hey flowers!
Suck it!

"the sun is a miasma of incandescent plasma"
- T.M.B.G

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Keeping an eye out...

Got a few days off... but the weather pointedly asked me just how much fun can you really have in a tent by yourself when it's raining? So I headed East into the Cascade range rain-shadow, searching for sunshine...all the while keeping my eyes open for 'thin places'.


Two different metaphors presented themselves:

* Interstate freeway system as circulatory system (with the health of various 'organs' dependent on circulation/traffic

* The route from Portland into rural Oregon as time travel into the recent past

I found the first metaphor rather pleasing as my trusty (said with heavy irony) corpuscle/vehicle coursed through various arteries and veins to the peculiar arrhythmias of commerce (once I factored in the Columbia River). But wind turbines and the price of gasoline were jarring reminders that small towns were definitely not  nostalgic oases in time.


Still, I very much enjoy road trips, if for no other reason than to find the perfect heat-lamp blasted jalapeno popper fermenting in a glass display case at some remote quick stop.



Rain managed to encroach beyond The Dalles, but mostly undercover of night. During the day, gentle showers would stray here and there, not managing to really wet anything. I managed to find a puddle to illustrate the Douglas Adams anecdote from last week.



Rain. It has what plants crave.



I felt a certain empathy for this tree.



As I drove up to the pay station at the John Day recreational area, I made the mistake of asking the attendant if there were any camping spots left. His smart-alecky expression made me realize I had asked a stupid question. He scratched his head and turned away, making a big production of checking his clipboard, an obviously blank reservation list clipped to the front. Then, he returned to the window feigning surprise. "Yes." He said.

There in the dark, a contingent of trees assigned to wind-break duty stood expectantly on fresh-cut grass, presumably to protect campers from devious gorge winds. But I could tell they were in no mood to work - especially for only one potential campee. They hadn't even bothered to put their leaves on.

I sat there for a time, conjuring up the ghosts of friends with whom I'd spent time with beneath these sheltering trees... lost



The next day, at Horse Thief Butte, I finally witnessed deer utilizing their anti-gravity skills.



A spider goes about its business.



In a graveyard, remembrances are gradually cast off.



Wednesday, January 14, 2009

REVILED BEAUTY: Photographs of the Columbia River Gorge, 2006-2009

Back a few weeks when snow paralyzed a significant portion of Portland, a spare contingent of Portland Art Museum staff managed to open the facility’s doors on time and kept it running until reinforcements managed to straggle in. Their heroic efforts afforded me an opportunity to take in the WILD BEAUTY photo exhibition in relative solitude. http://www.northwestphotography.org/WildBeauty.htm



I’d been working at establishing a relationship with the gorge over the past couple of years… oh screw it.

…maybe it would be more accurate to say that, like some shallow, materialistic paparazzi, I’d been stalking the gorge with my camera, hoping to capture an intimate or private moment (say maybe a nipple slip) so it was an unexpected bonanza to find myself peeking into the equivalent of a childhood photo album.

The thing is, the pictures were really beautiful, and seemed to become more beautiful as it became evident how difficult the early art of photography was to practice, but the unspoken commentary that I began to hear was the proud whispering of entrepreneurial immigrants boasting of their remarkable feats of exploitation.

It was an odd feeling. I felt proud to be a member of a species so clever as to be able to bury Celilo Falls under a captive river, so clever as to be able to skim power from descending water, so clever as to be able to create infrastructure that doubles as art, but also, I felt like a dick – like wanting nothing so much as to ‘do it’ only to find myself later (and counter intuitively) mourning the loss of innocence.

The Columbia River gorge is still beautiful. We have a ways to go before we start sucking so much water out of it that it starts to flow backwards like some forsaken California river. But we should be mindful that come the next ice age, the tables will turn and any of our kind that are left (how’s that for optimism?) will be scoured out by glacier spawned floods that would impress even Noah.

Anyway, maybe someday, if Wild Beauty the Sequel comes out, I hope its editors might see fit to include a portrait of the gorge as I have come to know it.



Columbia River from I-84 – close to the Corbett exit - 01-11-2009







Oneonta Gorge - 02-18-2007



Vista House Lights from I-84 viewpoint – 01-11-2009




Vista House looking suspiciously like a Cylon – 09-16-2006
I suppose if you were tasked with crowning the Columbia River Gorge with a giant toilet facility, you could do a lot worse than this.


Beacon Rock – 08-04-2007


Bonneville Dam from Table Mt. – 04-01-2007


Columbia River in bondage – 01-13-2008


Beacon Rock from Bonneville Dam – 01-13-2008


Eagle Creek Trail – 01-01-2006



Columbia River – Looking West from under the Bridge of the Gods – 03-11-2007






Construction site near The Dalles Dam – 07-19-2008





Basalt cliffs – Washington Shore – Close to railroad tunnel #12 – 10-11-2008


From railroad tracks looking west – Washington shore – 10-11-2008


Fishing Platform – Washington shore – 10-11-2008




Near Hells Gate channel – 10-11-2008






Friday, August 24, 2007

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 http://www.artandperception.com/2007/08/breaking-up-is-hard-to-do.html 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. Sometimes, approaching a rock outcrop was like approaching a castle wall. I often felt a tinge of excitement, thinking that perhaps I recognized evidence of human design, but the walls and forts I imagined from a distance would invariably dissipate under closer scrutiny and I would be left atop a random plateau where soil and grass struggled to achieve a foothold.

A puzzle soon presented itself. Time after time, I would climb an outcrop only to find the empty half shells of something that looked like walnuts lying about. (If Carolyn the Botanist is reading, I’d definitely call them berries)


Since there were no trees nearby, it wasn’t immediately obvious how the shells had arrived at these high islands jutting out of the tall grass.

One thing I wanted to do was to capture this puzzle in a picture. So I searched for particularly photogenic nuts and tried to show their relative isolation, their height above the surrounding landscape, their distance from nut trees, and the fact that they were empty... all in one picture.

I tracked down several instances of such nuts, but could never achieve an angle that gave me all the elements I wanted. Either the nut was lost in a landscape-image too small to be seen, or portraits of giant nuts dominated blurry backgrounds with no sense of place.


Eventually, I began to consider picking up some nuts and staging a picture, but it felt wrong somehow…perhaps dishonest.

It wasn’t until I read the article about Breaking-Up that I realized there might be alternative ways to put all the elements I wanted into one image.

The examples in the article involved arranging images into a two by two grid. This suggested other arrangements to me, like comic-strips or storyboards, which made me think I could arrange my own pictures into some-kind of narrative order.


“Congratulations,” I said to myself sarcastically, noting the complete absence of any cubist elements, “You have just assembled what most kindergartners would recognize as a simple ‘collage’."

I tried again.

I noted that even in the desert-like environment of The Dalles, a variety of trees seemed to be doing very well for themselves as long as they stayed in close proximity to the Columbia River.

There were oak trees festooned with acorns.


There was even a pair tree.


Eventually I encountered some more ‘berries’.


For this image, I ended up following pretty closely the example set by the author of the Breaking-up article. I tried to tie the images together with the stem, a natural element that serves much the same purpose in real life.

I left The Dalles with a kind of appreciation for the contrast in colors made possible at the interface between the desert and the river.





Featured Post

EVOLVING ROADS: Car camping with Kip and Rico (Part One)

I don’t know how it started for sure. Some intrepid band of Homo sapiens maybe walked over a land bridge from Russia or navigated the seas i...

POPULAR POSTS

The Narrative Image NAVIGATION AID