It was a chilly February night, and the crowds had only begun to show up. The Portland Winter Light Festival was the draw and with a messy snowstorm in the forecast, this night was prime to be popular.
Once upon a time, I created a set of gallery pages that provide a quick way to check out the photography from past posts without having to access them individually. I’ve just updated the galleries, and rather than explain the lot I’m reblogging the post that introduced the galleries in January of last year- Short Attention Span Theater.
PS: I’m about to do some traveling, so if you don’t see any blog posts or me responding to your posts for a few weeks, not to worry.
“Fooooooooooaaaaaaaammmmmmmm.” “Fooooooooooaaaaaaaammmmmmmm.” The man in the front of the room encouraged on the followers, “Fooooooooooaaaaaaaammmmmmmm.” The old, respected guru was about to enter. What sort of cult was this?
There comes a time in every person’s life that a certain discussion needs to be had, either as the presenter of certain life-affirming facts, or as the recipient. While I suspect most of you gentle readers would consider yourselves well versed in these facts, perhaps today I can shed a new light upon them.
Yes, today we’re going to talk about the birds and the bees.
Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Ah, the joys of listening to a piledriver.
And how is that relevant to the serenity and contemplation one might find in a Chinese Garden? Read on.
My storytelling muse hasn’t been amusing itself lately. So rather than a cohesive “Once Upon A Time”, here are a few vignettes from recent wanderings around town.
The rainfall grew, starting softly to moisten the dried dirt and clay, then growing to create rivulets of water, streaming down the hills. But it was not a simple muddy brown runoff; yellows over there, maroons there, ochers, reds, oranges, greys, shades of brown from light tan to dark brown ran and collected. It was as if a giant Jackson Pollock had one too many drinks, and in his drunken stumble kicked over all the cans of paint in his studio.
Most folks in the United States have heard of the Land of Lincoln, state motto of Illinois, where famed President Abe Lincoln had his roots. But did you know there was a Sea of Lincoln?
I know how he felt. When you get a nice day in January in the Pacific Northwest, it’s not a time to be sitting on the couch. It’s come on already, let’s go!
Just as I glanced back up the trail, the feet of the fellow walking down it took off in a different direction than his mind intended and gravity played a cruel trick.
Ouch. Ice will do that to a guy.