What is it about decay that’s so interesting on film?
Just returned from the Windy City — and windy it was! On this trip I went on the architecture river cruise and I spent most of my time trying to capture the undersides of rusting bridges as we sailed underneath them. The accidental compositions are incredible, and the rust adds an interesting touch. They’re being painted right now, so I’m glad I had an opportunity to capture them this way.
When I was in college I had to drive across farmland in Indiana and Ohio on my way to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving. As I passed countless decrepit, abandoned barns I thought it would make an amazing B/W series to capture the crossed lines of broken boards and the sunlight as it filters through the holes and gaps.
I’m going to miss summer vegetables! I don’t even like peppers, but this display was so gorgeous I was tempted to become a convert. One of the best things about living in California is the availability of amazing produce almost all year round. Cooking (and eating) is a joy here. I’d always considered myself a foodie, but I had no idea what I was missing until I experienced direct-from-the-source produce and artisan breads and cheeses.
A good friend works for 
Also at the Denver Art Museum, I ran across this installation of meditating Buddhas topped with various doll heads. Heads include Ken, Howdy Doody, Wolverine, and Doc, of Seven Dwarves fame. For some reason, I thought the creepy rubbery foam bodies were even more strange than the suspended doll heads. (Headless, Michael Joo)
There is something magical about the Sonoran Desert. Despite the scrubby bushes and monotonous sand, there is a quality to the people, the land, and the architecture that I have always loved. (This nostalgia for my childhood is not to be confused with actually wanting to live there!)
I wish I could take credit for it, but it was my brother who saw the eye created from the shadow of a nearby street lamp. The position is so perfect it looks intentional. I wonder if the artist has seen it like this.
At the Denver Art Museum I found this amazing (and gigantic) piece, Pater Noster by Sean Landers. It is more of a journal than a painting, chronicling the artist’s life while he prepares for a show — a time that also includes his partner’s pregnancy, the birth of his child, and the sudden death of his father. It is rare for people stop and stay with any one piece for longer than a few seconds, but this one had such a large crowd we were jockeying for position to continue reading his funny, poignant story. After thinking about it, this piece’s popularity should not be a surprise. A common art museum comment is “What in the world is that supposed to be?” Here, we know exactly what the artist is trying to say because he is saying it, literally.
One night recently an old friend was in town, and we met in the Mission for dinner. It was one of those rare nights in the city where the weather is perfect and there isn’t a hint of the usual chilly wind. We just started walking with no destination in mind, chatting and giggling over tacky wares in the windows. At one point we ducked down some street or another — I probably couldn’t find it again — and we happened on this fun mural around the corner from an antiques store I’d love to have gone in if it had been open. I’m attracted to the cartoon quality of the mural, but what really sold it is how it incorporated the ugly, omnipresent city power lines into the scene.