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№ 75 Posts

A map of my head

Undermined Alder, Joyce Quadrangle, August 2010

I have a spot on the top of my head that’s preternaturally prone to injury. Always the same spot gets bumped, banged. Balding too of course.  Re-denting  is exquisitely painful- just today at work under a trailer I found the leaf spring bracket with my ‘g’ spot. For just an instant all the life drains and everything goes all rubbery and the cosmos is put on dramatic notice for explanation.  I wonder how much damage I’m doing, and must rely on tender honesties of wife and friends, and a shove  in the right direction if I get a little stuck.

So my lovely wife-   into my second weekend of filmholder work, atop of 12 straight weekends of my  uninspired begumblement–  but into her 14th week of tripping over cameras bags and tripods abandoned by the front door, finally asks:  So, are you using this stuff? And  I’m finally missing taking pictures. Whooey, that seems easy now.

And speaking of dark forests, the latest gash through the densest of silver fir and alder behind the house is an odd study of contrasts. There must have been a million yards of road base brought in and the forest darkens at it’s perimeter like oxidation at the edges of a cut, bruised and almost embarrassed at the sudden exposure, and the ease of the humiliation.. I never find this stuff in the daylight hours.

Where you once were now there is not even rain

Treeline in Drought, North Peninsula, August 2010

Well I haven’t taken my camera out in several months, which is about the last time when got any rain. The irony is only peripheral,  I’ve been so absorbed with  printing lately I hardly notice the absence. A typical day printing starts at 5 am and ends…well ends isn’t the word. My latest obsession is 4 color gum printing. Don’t ask why; I don’t see well in color and am not entirely sure I like gum prints to begin with. Friday a.m. I finally broke down and went for a drive with every bit of gear I could cram in the truck in 5 minutes.

I like rotating my obsessions around like so much veteran but bitter pitching relief, it keeps me in a self-important state of micromanagement and nervousness that might be mistaken for productivity with the just right squint. The winter is for obsessing about new work and the summer is for  printing but the cycle can find occasional relief in busywork or other spontaneous projects. I started making some new film holders several weekends ago in such a ploy to distract myself.

Confronted with the mindless sun though, and outside only in the broadest definition,  I made for the darkest forest I could find. The drought extends from the cloudless sky in its 10th or 11th week and I now feel like I squint around the clock.  Not because I notice  the outside world just now but because maybe if I think about the work just right, I’ll like it ok.

self portrayal

Feeder, Beach 3, May 2010

A chronicle of an absentminded stroll, a pre-emptive waltz through my own torpor. Sort of like tracking the extinct through oblivion.

Note the looping circles.

memorial break

Alder roots, Lake Crescent, May 2010

My yearly spring alder picture. Started hauling around the big 4lb xenar again. Something about wide open antique glass and spring light. I’ve been distant, dark and pin-holeish all winter, using small, dim and sphincter-like f16 lenses, so by comparison this was almost like stapling my eyelids to the top of my head.

deadpan ham

Draped landscape, November 2009

Fleshing out a new portfolio. Most have been folded into this blog as an satellite of this series. The working theme is roadwork, a sort of non-denominational scenery that attempts to be neither escapist or utilitarian. It mainly started from a need to bodycheck my more purple, illustrative work, but sadly nothing much can escape my need to go over the top..:P

The observer effect

Path, Kalaloch, March 2010

Awkward to emerge from under the darkcloth and find a patient few waiting to use the trail. I know I talk to myself but when surprised by company I can never remember exactly what I was saying. The expression of the crowd sometimes gives a few… hints. Suffice to say profanity fairly assures a largish elderly crowd.

It’s true that I often post a picture just to have an excuse to blather on about something, but this week I’m sensing a trend towards mutual irrelevance. Fact is I’m trying to keep a few things in suspension. Not sure if the effect is due to  a sense of being watched, but after 2+ years of blogging, there must be someone out there with an embarrassed expression.

edit: more or less loss


Stumps, Highway 112

Random thoughts of the last few seconds

I hope a hurricane doesn’t come through the BP spill

I’d like more coffee in less cup…but how?

Don’t spare the bottleneck in that RL Burnside remix

hmmm…this didn’t suck this much yesterday

Paltry descending spiral, life. As I near utter desensitization, the landmarks continue to whiz by but interest gets no closer.. There’s a sort of implied dead reckoning as anticipation of interest..any interest..keeps missing in all dimensions of duration, scope, and reference. The errors compound as the next fix sails by, but logic refuses to sign on, and there’s no snapping out of the building inertia of it.

I’m a morose moron of late. Did I hit my head? Often? Maybe it’s just middle age, but I’m seeking comfort instead of inspiration. Visual comfort food, soft angles and light. Even the printing processes I’m working with lately favor bright child-like colors applied with simple tools. The craft of it is reassuring in times of lean creativity. It’s little wonder children and lunatics are amused with crafts, the purpose is soothing, and ravings or destructive energies are distracted for a breath-catching moment. Still, in the end it’s just more unsupervised half-assery with lots of paper towels, and enthusiasm seems to dry and harden in step with the materials, and there are half-finished thoughts everywhere.

The landscape seems sympathetic, this little gathering of stumps, a landscape of truncated notions.