to my blogger info. Apparently I’ve missed the landmark of my 1000th post, by just over 100! Hello post 1,102.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Wake up on Sunday with a throbbing in my head. It’s five in the morning, three short hours after falling asleep. A wild and crazy night, but now I’ve got things to do. I drink a few bottles of water, take a Tylenol, and drive away.
A quick stop for coffee and a bit of writing, then I’m on the highway to Flagstaff. Breakfast with my cousins, then a bit of photo-walking.
We all meet at Macy’s, an amazing coffee shop where the Americano is deep and smooth and the breakfast sandwich is light and flavorful. We sit and talk for over an hour, and I love it. Eventually they have to leave for church, and with all the caffeine I’m practically vibrating down the streets of Flag with a camera in hand. The colors are bright, the details crisp.
After an hour or two of meandering and clicking I’m tired and a little sun-baked. The ride home is long and hot, but I’m happy. Life is good.
The entrance to Cafe Ole in downtown Flagstaff. 3 exposure handheld HDR to make the colors pop and keep some interest in the sky.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
QuiltedDogs requested more Scrappy photos, so here is one from putzing around the house this weekend:
He sat still for a few seconds before wanting to wrestle. Taken with the 50mm f/1.8 and an SB-600 flash (wireless TTL is nice) to camera left.
Sometimes you have to go out on a limb to achieve your goals. You stand at the precipice with an unknown depth below you and wonder if it is worth it? Are your dreams worth the chance of diving into the shallows? Are they worth the chance of diving into the deep?
Sam, getting some pictures at the mine last night.
Monday, August 24, 2009
I’m running late. The light disappears like a wisp of smoke. One moment the color is there, the next; it’s gone. I’m fighting a losing battle. No tripod and no light. The images aren’t what I would like them to be:
Senator mine at dusk. Will be going back now that I have bought a tripod. :)
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
I show up just in time to catch the last few seconds of a song. The regular Wednesday band is missing, and in their place stands a lone man. He wears a straw cowboy hat that is dirty from constant wear, and plays the guitar like he’s been doing it forever. He sings seemingly to himself, as though the audience doesn’t exist. It’s almost true.
The place is nearly deserted. Tonight’s turnout consists a few of the die-hard regulars who sit and chat with one another. The bartender yawns as he watches a baseball game on the small television behind the bar. I order, and he manages to get it wrong. Oranges instead of lemons. His mind is in a different place, and I don’t care enough to correct him.
"I’m going to take a short break, and when I come back my friend Dallas will be playing with me.”
It’s eight o’clock, and I sit and chat with a few of the regulars. I talk to a man who’s new in town. A doctor whom was born and raised in Iran, and will soon be opening his own practice in town. He says Prescott felt like home the first time he drove through. It’s his first night out, and he is loving life.
It’s forty five minutes before the Dave and Dallas duo take the stage. If that’s a short break, I’d hate to see a long one.
Dallas, playing the mandolin, adds depth to the guitar. They play songs that seem familiar, like I should know the words even though I don’t. I’ve never seen somebody play the mandolin and the sight leaves me mildly awestruck. He plays a different song entirely, and yet it picks up the guitar, fills the voids between notes. Maybe it’s just the fuzziness from the beer, but I am enraptured by the sounds. Ten o’clock rolls around entirely too quickly, and the music stops.
Time to go. My alarm clock will be going off in six short hours, and I still have some chores to do at home.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
My reader overfloweth with awesome this morning:
- McAwesome little Guitar Player:
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
You all know I love graffiti. So here is some from downtown Flagstaff.
A wall dedicated to the spray can art:
Back alley patriotism. Ironically painted onto a government building:
Built up, ripped off, forgotten:
And another from the rail yard:
Slightly more subtle defacement, and infinitely more entertaining:
And of course, the socially acceptable type of graffiti:
A little Ark action:
And my personal favorite. Something about the bandaged knee:
Love is found in odd places. In the depths of a book. In the simple gestures of those close to you. In the way light illuminates the world before you. Look for it everywhere, and there you will find it.
A little love at the parking garage.
Monday, August 17, 2009
We are constantly in a state of judgment against others. We judge them against ourselves and against our ideals. We impose our desires on others and then shun them for not being desirous. How can they not want what is obviously so important (to us)? How can they be so dense as to not realize the paradise that awaits them if they begin to idolize the things that we do? Don't they see?
How could they not want to be successful? Rich? Beautiful? How could they not want a new shiny car? A house? Nice clothes? Who doesn't want to be surrounded by success?
It becomes harder to judge when you recognize this projection of yourself onto the image of others. You can no longer impose your paradigm onto the world at large, and by that loss your eyes are opened to the beauty of the individuals. Each person is beautiful. Each person is perfect.
What might be the Raptor Fire?
EDIT: Looks like it might be the Taylor Fire, not listed yet on InciWeb?:
Spotted yesterday on a drive back from Flagstaff. I stopped in Jerome to see sis, and caught sight of this monster in the distance:
Friday, August 14, 2009
Scrappy is getting restless. Digging holes, breaking fence boards. The boy needs more exercise.
It was with this in mind that I decided to hit the road last night after work. I (gently) threw the D90 into the truck, loaded the boy in the back, and set off for the forest. The goal?
Heading up to the Mt. Union fire lookout post, then home by way of Poland Junction. With LOTS of stops to let the boy run off his energy. The first of these stops was at the old mine out on Senator Highway:
Which, like all abandoned areas around here, is covered with graffiti:
And, of course, I love it!:
The next stop is the claw truck I posted earlier today:
This sucker means business:
And then I heard a buzzing overhead. I swiveled just fast enough to catch a helicopter as it flew by, carrying a bucket full of water out of Hassayampa lake:
From there we headed up to Mt. Union. You have to park a bit away from the top, so we got a nice 15 minute uphill hike. We were lucky enough to spot some wild turkey:
Unfortunately, I didn’t have my big lens, and when we got closer Scrappy scared the birds off. But I was able to sneak up on one of the feathers they left behind to get a macro shot:
And then it was up to the very tip top of the mountain, where they keep watch for fires in the area:
It must be a lonely time up there, but at least you have a good view:
From here it was a trip down to 5 points, and home through Poland Junction. The sun set as I neared the highway:
I can only hope that the dog was placated enough not to destroy the yard today while I’m at work…
If you haven’t seen Zack Arias’ short film ‘Transform’, go watch it now.
Zach’s got a lot good thoughts about the scary steps in life, and they apply to people of all walks of life. Along those lines, he came out with another video today:
Thursday, August 13, 2009
So remember last year when I popped my sternum, and took myself out of commission for a few days? Wait, you don’t remember?
Yeah, I totally did that again this week. Not stretching this time, just picking up a dumbbell off the floor at the gym. Felt a pop, decided to work through the rest of my routine, and now I’m paying for it. Ooo the sweet fiery burn of chest pain, and the knowledge that there is nothing I can do to fix it, just take it easy for a few days and let it figure itself out.
Lesson learned? Pay attention, even when doing simple things at the gym. Stupid me.