May this me tingle my heart

It was a  rainy week along Alameda Creek


I like rain but it does not really happen in Fremont, mostly overcast skies, short snippets of downpours mixed with light drizzles, and if I am lucky sometimes the road even smells like rain.  It can make me nostalgic for Massachusetts, but not enough to want to live in the cold again.


I walk along the Alameda Creek almost everyday, four miles, 12 years ago I did it in 52 minutes, now at 74 years  its over an hour if I do it it straight,  however over the years  I have met so many people that I usually meet someone and stop to talk. This gentleman lives on the other side of the creek in a drainage area,  from which during the rain water flows.


He has bedding adn other stuff there.


I wondered how he would do   during the rain, last week his bedding washed down the the creek  but I noticed  he was back again yesterday.


I was in San Francisco last week, a lover’s discussion, her restaurant, her boyfriend, his pleading and promising could be heard, they went inside, she gave him some cash from the register and he left. She resumed working.


Conversation in Chicago, fall, 1969, SDS Days of Rage,


When I was a kid I used to follow  Pogo and Out Our Way. As an adult I read For Better or Worse until they started reruns.  Presently I read Luann,  this  is one of my favorites, it is an interesting reflection on how any of us really know how what we do today affects the future, human hubris and True Believers comes to mind and thank God for people who can laugh at themselves.

There will always be problems, people will always have solutions and tomorrow there’ll be more problems;  how many  were caused by yesterday’s solutions. On the other hand its human to hope that things can get better.

Luann - lu151115comb_ts.tif

Life kneads too be more than a cardboard cutout.


Would you cut off your arm for something you cannot show me?


Would you mistake a sleeping Buddha for me?


If I met Buddha on the road could I kill him?


I would prefer something simpler which made sense of the moment instead of a solution aimed at tomorrow, who nos, there may not be a tomorrow, maybe there was never really a yesterday.


But inspite of my efforts  my camera remains unconnected to me, leading me on, fooling me, never showing me as I want to see, heartlessly blinding me to my ignorance,


driving me to seek refuge in MissConfusion.


Won day my camera forced me to stop and reflect on myself . . .noing but not understanding that  this day come . . .


Could I really trust this celph,


and may this May meeting end with a new beginning,








Artistical inspite of technicality

Today anyone using a camera can express something  visually complex. Human beings have been around for over 400,000 years while most  people being able to express something visually complex has been around for barely  120 years,  arbitrarily choosing the introduction of the Brownie Camera in 1900.


Expressing oneself visually and expressing oneself artistically are not the same thing and the former is necessary to  achieve the latter while being able to express yourself artistically is not necessary  to express yourself visually.


Many people will have different definitions for what “artistic” means but most will approach agreement concerning  what technical means. Is that photograph just a recording of a moment in time or does it have meaning that I don’t over or understand?


One difference is that to merit artistic accomplishment among  viewers there will be a shared experience, a common feeling.  When  viewers experience an artistic piece of  Art—which is technically proficient—they experience a common feeling.


Many people might say that “Art is in the eye the beholder” but people are not clones, they are dynamic and different. Popular has a lowest common denominator position, the less  you  have to say the more it will appeal to a larger group, while if you  have nothing to say it may not appeal to anyone or if you have something really substantial to say it may require that the viewer be sophisticated (have a developed knowledgable standard).

Do you use your camera to invade the private moments of others? Is the camera expressing a feeling or just what you (and out people) would have seen had your eyes been in the position of the camera lens.


Maybe the camera and you are looking down on me, thinking probably I am too old for this job or that I have been promoted up the professional  ladder until I reached the job for which I was not qualified and just left there waiting to retire.


Some simply  prefer pickled salted mackerel on ekaratsu.


Some of these are no longer with us, and some were potted by Gary Holt from  Berkeley. One American-shino style bowl is of a set of four, found in a local museum of art in Roswell sometime in the 1980s.

Generally in the morning I eat fruit,— we have various fruit trees for much of the year” raison, almonds, granola and milk . . .no Japanese pottery here,  only a few Chinese noodle soup bowls with an image of  rooster—in a Chinese restaurant  you may get served with one of these bowls as they have been  used in restaurants for many years. While mine are old, you can get them cheaply in a Chinese goods store.


Or sometimes I have natto.  This is a Kuro-Oribe chawan— a black Oribe kiln tea bowl.


Designs, made using a photo shadow  image of myself taking an image of myself  It puts  me  in the company of like minded clones


I am not too likely to wander away  frustrated and in rage when I just don’t get it,  the blind bleeting the blind, it is a safer position  than the one  left behind.


Everywear I look the universe looks the same, whenever I look it looks the same, how I look, it looks the same, its enough to drive me sane.


Some thought I was having too much fun to get hit, and even though they said it was their independent judgment and they were just being  honest, my feelings were hurt.


We all have our own struggles, these two arrived  from Appalachia in a car almost out of gas,  barely running,  had not eaten for days . . .


McLuhan wrote about two women approaching each other, one behind a baby buggy. When they meet one says “What a beautiful baby!,” to which the other replies, “Oh but you should see the photographs.”


And then just color is enough, at least it doesn’t make me feel a lone.