Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Changing Seasons: White in New York

LL Bean Buck, October 2008.

I missed the the infamous Nor'easter known as Snowpacalypse. 3000 miles away, I read my twitter feed, saw the headlines and spoke with my friends in New York. I missed the party, arriving the next morning for the cleanup of the beer cans, sticky footprints and dirty dishes.

Paul Smith Canvas Sneaker, January 2009.

Luckily, more storms loomed on the horizon, nurturing the prospects that I too would enjoy a snow day in New York. A few weeks later, I awoke one morning to the familiar scraping of a snowplow.

Common Projects sneaker, April 2009.

Outside my window three inches of fresh snow smoothed the jagged rooflines of countless apartment buildings. Throwing my camera and gloves into my REI backpack, I stopped by Joe's Coffee before cutting into the park at 81st street.

Van's Authentic, August 2009.

Steam rose from my coffee like exhaust from a muffler as I scuffled my feet through the fresh covering of snow. The occasional jogger clad in spandex and Nike's made crunching sounds in the light snow.

Ralph Lauren Wingtip, October 2009.

Danner Mountain Light II, December 2009

Arriving at the rock outcropping, I removed my LL Bean Signature Work Boot, adjusted the settings on my 5d Mark II and focused my manual Zeiss 35mm f2.o on an arbitrary spot, some three feet in front of me.

British Walker Buck, April 2010.

Shooting with a much narrower field of view than my old 24-105 f4, I threw the boot farther away. Snapping at the apex, I sat for a half an hour or so until I filled my flash card and couldn't feel my fingers.

LL Bean Boot, October 2010.

LL Bean Signature Work Boot, January 2o11.

Consumed by my new life, time goes by fast here. It feels like just last week I moved into my apartment and started my job. I am already anticipating spring around the corner. These nine photos remind of how much my life has changed in the last two and a half years. Try taking a photo, drawing or writing some thoughts down in the same place each season. I bet you will be surprised by the positive unindtended consequences.

Here are some more links,

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Clouds, Rain and Fog

I pinned my face against the cold window as the plane broke through the clouds over Mt. Hood on its initial decent into the Portland area.

The loudspeaker blasted, "Current weather; 42 degrees, overcast with an 85% chance of showers today."

Eagerly searching for familiar sights, I quickly spotted the radio towers pushing through a sea of heather gray. As our plane followed the Columbia River towards PDX, occasional holes in the clouds exposed suburban blocks nestled in ceder trees. Water droplets coated my window. A few seconds later, the clouds disappeared, exposing the familiar sights I had searched in vain for a few moments early.

Jerry Seinfeld once said on a visit to Portland, "The Pacific Northwest has two seasons: a rainy winter, and that one day in August." Although the truth is not quite as extreme as Jerry's quip, I learned to love the two-season climate growing up in and around the Portland area.

Unhampered by the clouds, rain and fog, I enjoyed the beautiful outdoors on my recent trip home. Like any obstacle barring from a fun activity, the constant rain only made the end result that much more rewarding. Here are photos from my 12 days back home.


The Columbia River Gorge.



Buffalo Steaks from Yakima.


The affirmation of the outside chance that I will one day, grow a beard.

I don't need an umbrella.

Here are some more links,
Clouds, Rain and Fog (Picasa).

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

On the Road

The story reverted to the beginning of chapter 8. Fumbling for the case in the center console, I grabbed CD five, ejected CD four and continued the audio book. Unsympathetic to my interest in Moby Dick, the lights of a late 80's pickup flashed twice in the rearview mirror before unleashing its liberally muffled v8. In a cloud of blue smoke and the glimmer of a Bush/Quayle 92 bumper sticker, the truck passed on a double yellow.

"Bush/Quayle? Who the fuck was Quayle?" I chuckled, referring the question to my dad with a grin.

"Bush Senior's vice president..." he sardonically replied.

"Oh no, you don't say...I mean who was he?"

"He was an incompetent Senator from Indiana; a "Family Values" advocate."

"Only in Yakima, Washington would one of those be kicking around," I said, motioning to the truck as it passed around the corner.

Spending the majority of my time in Manhattan makes exploring country roads to the sound of audio books all the more appealing. Starting on the 23rd of December and ending the 2nd of January, I explored the roads of Pacific Northwest with my friends and family. I hiked, snowboarded, shot guns and took photos along the way.

My mom's Irish terrier, Lucy.

Behind the market, Seattle.

Looking East, Bingen, Washington.

Blasting away in Prindle Washington.

Red gate near Mt Saint Helens.

Straight from Alaska.

Hours before catching my red-eye back to New York, I walked down an abandoned road in the Columbia River Gorge. Lucy, my mom's spunky Irish terrier, ran ahead, chasing a quail. Despite the beauty and serenity of my surroundings, I looked forward to the bustle and energy of New York. Nine hours later, I landed in Newark. It's a crazy world we live in.

Here are some more links,
On The Road (Picasa),
Side of the Road (ART).