The Vance memorial coming down
A community + personal conflict
A community + personal conflict
On difficult situations
A trip to the mountain
Soft light
Magic, hope + illusions in LA
A crack in the pavement
The clean, crisp lines and blond wood baked with semi-fake grain contrasts with the loud, clunky music. A pretty-ish girl at the register has issues, but her breasts suggest otherwise, along with a shy, knowing smile. The green in the backshop, Japenese-style courtyard glows throughout the shotgun space. The crew moves hectic as closing time […]
Whirl, whipsawing wind. Indigo-dark night. Hard streets, inflexible, shine like a burned-out star.
The yellow mixes with the blue in a quiet unmatched by the wind humming through the weirdly placed Eucalyptus trees nearby. The crisp, dying sunlight filters through dead-looking stalks like memory. A snake, black and white, strolls by in the late evening, enjoying it, too. Finely-grained details provide the background. A perfect meal of green […]
Bird on a wire in the middle of the woods, near the city. The sun, evening is quiet, the crow unruffles the day, some contented screams come out. The day exhales. The sun and all the green, hills, saying goodbye. Corrina, Corrina
Two girls, 15-ish, sit creekside in a sun-filled park in the early afternoon. A pretty one, with hoop earrings, sits on a stone ledge of a tunnel that swallows the creek, which runs for about 50 yards before it pops up again deeper into the park. The not-as-pretty girl, a little plump and withdrawn, has […]
Mount Tam has infinite dimensions. Here’s a misty, turkey one.
The mountains crack open, the ocean-top sky expands, the multi-contoured oak-strewn hills, and their patches, pockets of thin mist, offering the day a folded mystery, timeless, neverending.
All the ghosts dance on the head of a pin, the pale light a reminder that life and death move so quickly, the chill breeze an exhausted breath, merging with a motorcycle’s sexual hum, a growing-long evening, a streetlight in the pale evening sky, a woman looking at you and away, the jangle of chain, […]
It’s a pink, purple evening in the shifting cool, pure evening water. The quiet like a monster. The scrubby network of trees and thorns a comfort. Sitting at the kitchen table in the predawn dark, nebulously cold, mom and dada at a kitchen table. Coffee, tea, reheated pancakes, an at-peace vibe in the air, things […]
Guest photo by photographer, freelance writer and friend Robin Meadows.
Aka “Santa Blanco.”
Coming down out of the mountains, a long windy drive, ice in the shady spots of the road, frost clinging to the dirt. A vulture on top of a telephone poll, wings full spread, back to the just-rising sun, warming himself.
Yellow bright inside. The dark nights sharpen the early evenings, especially with a dose of sparkle-light outside. A cacophony of children noises, a “grilled cheese” ordered, a man in a crumpled blue shirt, a self-contented smile on his face and a fat-ass wallet stands in line, just behind a stunning girl and her frat boyfriend. […]
Gather Hoopin 19th St. BART station Freight & Salvage Barkada
Pedal by pedal, up and down along cracked streets, empty, perfumed stores, a grey, slightly cold day, time slips by, buzzed by a slight fatigue. In other news, Oakland got “Pandora” to finally label one of its buildings, lending a touch of cool to the up-until-now lame skyline, which still features a prominent “Ask.com” building.
He pulled out a plastic bag — could’ve been mistaken for a fancy glass case — clumped out the sticky tobacco and rolled it tight in the rolling paper, the musty smell of BART floating around him like raw, space junk-contaminated atmosphere, the yellow train electric light floating all around … He rolled the cig […]
Crazy last couple of months. Moved in with my girlfriend?!, moved offices at work — we’re now in Emeryville, Calif., right across from Pixar’s headquarters, where they play soccer and do boxing and other odd aerobics at lunch behind their high fences; it’s a huge campus — is that it? The new home is great. […]
Book‘s rocking my world. It’s about the last of the greatest Indian tribes of the southern U.S. plains — the Comanches — and written by S.C. Gwynne, a former editor-in-chief of Texas Monthly. The book was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in 2010. It chronicles, with present-day geography tips, the battles, skirmishes, life of […]