dusting things off...

Well, it's been over ten days since I've added anything to this blog. So, here's a photo dating back to 1996 which I took along Oregon Hwy 18 in the coastal range. I took this shot on black and white Ilford 35mm film and scanned this workprint, full frame. Generally, when I've worked in 35mm in the past, I have done most of my composing in camera, and printed full frame. Since I was scanning those days into a flatbed scanner, I knew I could always crop the scan, if necessary, but really preferred to stick with full frame photography as a way of working. It helped me looking through the camera that way, making every corner and edge important. I think I'll start posting some of my old work here since I'm dusting it off now.

Some of what prompted this photo being posted are my many contrasting, err..conflicting feelings since returning from Baja. I'm in a clean, fresh, wet place now, with the four pups. It feels good, especially when the sun shines, yet there lingers a fog of melancholy as I try to see the place I left behind. It's not exactly unexpected, I imagine, but I miss the starkness of lower baja's desert, complete with the dust, cacti and empty stretches of beach. I keep seeing Trisha's and my special "lonely beach" in my mind. I miss the baja road signs, vados and topes. There was something liberating about seeing all the signs in spanish, having to sort through my limited Spanish at little village markets. No tv, no radio, no microbrews. No rain or grass. Plenty of guyabas (guavas,) manzana lifts (the golden ones.) The notion of going barefoot in the dirt had it's rewards. Getting up at dawn-even watching numerous sunrises over the Sierra de la Laguna mountains. Friendly Mexicans, from fishermen on the beaches to the delightfully attractive senoritas everywhere I looked. I find myself even missing the dirt roads, unmuffled pickup trucks...hell, even the ranchero music. There was something in the air, perhaps because it was really was an 'open-air' lifestyle. There were so many things that come to mind as I pause to think about it. I just felt really comfortable down there. It was as if life could start anew, with a clean slate. I really wasn't ready to leave, even though I had to.

In the end, the things I miss the most are Trisha, Nandi, and being around Mariposa and all the dogs out there in the desert. It was a little time in my life I'll always cherish.

Feeling in a bit of a solitary mood, I spent a bit of time this afternoon (Sunday) driving around the local area here on the north-central Oregon coast. I headed up past Drift Creek, which flows through a bucolic little valley after emerging from a heavily forested drainage not far from our place. There the road takes a swing up the side of a mountain permitting a spectacular view of an even smaller valley-call it a large meadow-with the creek meanedering through it. The eyes can follow the path of the creek back up through the forested mountains even without seeing the water - just observer the obvious drainage routes, since the entire watershed is practically visible. A couple of sections of forest had been clear-cut, one perhaps a couple of years ago and one of them this year. The slashed, gouged appearance stood out as a cruel wound to the earth. On the earlier clearcut, despite replanting of doug firs, spring rains forced a section of hillside to let go, unable to hold the soft soil with the absence of forest. Looked like a scab had been knocked off, and wasn't going to heal. The underlying clay and steep slope unlikely to support anything larger than brush in the future. These little reminders of the temporary nature of this landscape (which I've been poked with my entire 20 years in Oregon) trigger a deeply reflective mood, and a chill of lonliness.

Trisha called last week and said she was going to see my folks in Cabo (doing the timeshare bit) and would be driving them out the El Refugio for a visit. I haven't heard anything else, but am anxiously waiting to hear what happened.

As soon as I get the digital camera back, I'll be posting updated pictures of the pups. They're all doing well, and I have to admit to a huge problem with the idea of finding homes for any of them. We all have this worked out for now, and as I observe and participate in their puppyhoods, a deep bonding takes its hold. Just let me say for now - they're doing well, and have brought Bella (6 yr. old shepherd) out of her shell.

Finally, I broke down and splurged at Apple's music store, and downloaded Coldplay's latest album, X&Y. I'm not disappointed. It's a great album.