back | 07.31.03 | next

underwater jungle


back | 07.29.03 | next

into the whale's mouth


Just part of Disneyland's surreal landscape.

back | 07.28.03 | next

Family colloquy


back | 07.27.03 | next

red and gold


back | 07.26.03 | next

there's something about swans


They imbue a sense of tranquility. Water does that too. Lakes, streams, ponds, oceans. Lapping, splashing, rippling water.

back | 07.25.03 | next

acid trip


Or... well... maybe not.

Anyone want to guess what it really is?

back | 07.23.03 | next

Who was that masked minstrel?


back | 07.22.03 | next

back | 07.21.03 | next

back | 07.20.03 | next

alight and oddly alive


back | 07.19.03 | next

memorial in Santa Monica

A week or two ago a small plane dove into a smallish apartment building in the Fairfax district just a few blocks from where we lived for seven years, demolishing the building and killing some of its residents. We still live within walking distance. We drove past there on our way home the day after the crash. The street was cordoned off, police patrolled the area.

This past Wednesday an elderly man lost control of his car and drove full speed into the crowded Santa Monica farmer's market, killing several people and injuring many more. Before we discovered the Sunday Hollywood market, we used to attend the Wednesday one in Santa Monica. It's the best in the city. Many farmers have booths at both markets. I recognize faces and names from the news stories of vendors in shock. We'll go to the market tomorrow morning. I wonder what we'll see in their faces.

Small tragedies, you could say, but so very close to home.

Last night I happened to be in Santa Monica, walking on the Third Street Promenade on my way to hear my college classmate Merin Wexler read from her (very good) collection of short stories. A clump of people stood and watched dancers. Another clump stood and listened to live jazz. Another clump stood silently, acknowledging an impromptu memorial that has grown daily since Wednesday. I took some pictures on my way to the reading, more on the way back.

This is my way of standing witness.









back | 07.18.03 | next

comfort object


We all have them. Most of us don't sleep head to head with them, though.

back | 07.17.03 | next

Santa Monica sunset


After a heated internal debate ("Yes I can!" "No, ugh, don't!" "Nya-nya, I wanna and I will!"), I decided to put this shot up even though it edges a tad close to a generically pretty sunset shot. But I love the tornado cloud effect and it memorializes our lovely Saturday evening.

back | 07.16.03 | next

rose water



At Exposition Park.

back | 07.15.03 | next

back | 07.14.03 | next

blue shirts all in a row

single file children

Single file, remember that from school days?

back | 07.13.03 | next

inadvertent spotlight


back | 07.12.03 | next

book reading


A view from the audience at Pamie's first reading of her first novel, Why Girls Are Weird, a romantic comedy about the ins and outs and ups and downs of keeping an online journal. A fun read.



And on to the signing:




(Why yes, I can imagine myself going through this in a couple of years, why do you ask?)

She did good.

back | 07.11.03 | next

sad car

you can't kill me

What I want to know is: how do you have to feel to scrawl this on your car? And leave it there for all to see?

back | 07.10.03 | next

back | 07.09.03 | next

in glass houses


back | 07.08.03 | next

back | 07.06.03 | next

wash and read


back | 07.04.03 | next

totemic objects


What, you were expecting an American flag?

back | 07.03.03 | next

abstract cat


back | 07.02.03 | next

NYC reconceived


back | 07.01.03 | next

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