Archive for the ‘Blue’ Category

I’m always a sucker for a shiny red car, but I do love these old blues and greens. 

As of yesterday, my right eye is now sporting a snappy new lens. (Left eye is scheduled for Tuesday.) Since many of you are photographers or artists in another medium,  I think you would find this whole light perception thing to be fascinating. If I use only my left eye, the world has a soft, yellowish tint, as though illuminated by an old-fashioned lightbulb. If I use only my new eye, yowzah! Now everything is brighter, with a clean blue-white glow, much like an iPad.  As I review this post on the screen, there is a marked difference in how I perceive the shots, depending on which eye I use.

I think I will like my new windows on the world, though all this brightness will take some getting used to. (“Vampire Photographer Adjusts to Lights in the New World. Film at 11:00”)

Meditations on an abandoned Chevy. Six images.

I took multiple images of the car as a whole but they were not nearly as intriguing as the engine shots.







Four images.

I can do technically accurate captures, but I’m generally more interested in presenting my own spin on reality. In these photos, taken at Bay Shipbuilding, I played with the color–increasing saturation–and buffed out any graininess in order to achieve a more painterly effect.


 Then, some creative cropping to remove distractions: Bottom of the door is boring! or redirect the eye:  Look at the little overhang!


Most of the chalked notations throughout the yard are in a no-nonsense, businesslike hand, but in the case of the photo above…very interesting.  Flourishes. Drama, even. The artist seized the moment and his canvas.


I’m not sure if there’s a style or genre for the pictures in this set: Shipyard Romantic? Maybe Sheet Metal Moody?


Six images

I offer you an antidote for yet another gloomy Midwestern winter day:


The Centre Pompidou in Paris, housing the Bibliothèque Publique d’Information (Public Information Library),  the Musée National d’Art Moderne (which is the largest museum for modern art in Europe,) and IRCAM, a centre for music and acoustic research.


The brightly colored exoskeleton of the Pompidou is actually a color-coded display of  its mechanical systems: blue pipes are for climate control, green for the plumbing, yellow pipes carry the electrical wires, and safety features, such as fire extinguishers, are in red.






Three images and a few lyrics.

Am I blue
Am I blue
Ain’t these tears in my eyes tellin’ you

Am I blue

You would be, too
If your plans with your man
Done fell through


There was a time
That I was his only one
And now I’m the sad and lonely one, lonely…”


With nods to Ella Fitzgerald, Tom Robbins and the Abandoned Sawmill

Wabi Sabi returns in two weeks. Stay away from my sawmill while I am gone.

Six images

A return to the sawmill series, looking at some rusty details.

Two different shots here. I framed the pipe up in both portrait and landscape. Each says something a little different.



I’ve not been Faithful Blogger this fall season. (NOT that I have been unfaithful to you. No, no no.)


I decided that this year, I would take full and glorious advantage of being unemployed and scheduled as many adventures as two months could hold. Good plan, Wabi Sabi!


Four trips down, one (maybe two?) to go: I believe I have used these two months to their fullest, though as a result, I’ve been light on the posting and commenting.


I’m not one to make excuses, but some of the places I’ve been have heretofore only been glimpsed by the Google Earth satellite. And then, as you well know, internet connections are often spotty in war zones. And what do you DO when a python eats your backup battery? I may have mentioned that I was (true story) drummed out of the Girl Scouts when I was 12 for being “insubordinate.” Well, apparently I missed the Heimlich on a Python badge work.


What I’m trying to say is that once I am home and fully debriefed by the State Department on this last little outing, I will give you my undivided attention.

Just two.