December 24, 2012 · Absolute Solipsism
So here’s the deal: I’m early. Not fashionably early, not strategically early. Just early. Standing on the steps of San Francisco City Hall like some kind of ceremonial parking cone, waiting for Dan and Ciara to show up and get married in a way that doesn’t count except that it counts more than anything that’s […]
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December 24, 2012 · The City
It is true that we learned our trade because there were no better offers but we learned it in the magic heaped on the hills of San Francisco. And you know what it is? It’s a golden handcuff with the key thrown away. Ask anyone about San Francisco and the odds are that he’ll tell […]
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December 19, 2012 · Wanderlust
You stand here long enough, looking out at that impossible blue stretching to forever, and you start to understand why Henry Miller said fuck it to Paris and ended up here, clinging to this ridiculous edge of America. Big Sur is the California that men dreamed of years ago, this is the Pacific that Balboa […]
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December 7, 2012 · Industries
[Duration is] the form which the succession of our conscious states assumes when our ego lets itself live, when it refrains from separating its present state from its former state. Henri Bergson, Time and Free Will Ten hours. Ten plus hours. And for what? To watch someone refuse separation, refuse the neat severing of this […]
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December 6, 2012 · Industries
Underground venues are a photographer’s nightmare. The light’s always wrong, some amber wash from a single gel, maybe a practical lamp someone dragged in from their living room, and darkness everywhere else. Viracocha is no exception. I’m fumbling with ISO settings, knowing most shots are gonna have grain like sandpaper, trying to find an angle […]
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December 1, 2012 · Absolute Solipsism
Solipsism in a mirror I didn’t want any new clothes at all; because if I had to look ugly anyway, I wanted to at least be comfortable. I let the awful clothes affect even my posture, walked around with my back bowed, my shoulders drooping, my hands and arms all over the place. I was […]
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November 18, 2012 · Wanderlust
The Sonoma Mission squats there like the last gasp of something that already knew it was dying when they built it in 1823. The final outpost, the 21st link in a chain of spectacular ambition and casual brutality stretched up the California coast. You can feel it, this desperate, magnificent hubris frozen in adobe. Stand […]
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