So peaceful. Another shot of Seattle’s Kubota Garden.
Non-non-Euclidean
This image from inside Herring-Cole Hall at St. Lawrence University reminds me of the ending of 2001: A Space Odyssey: All bright white surfaces and traditional motifs, but with a shape, geometry, and brightness that doesn’t seem quite of this Earth.
Buckeye Dusk
Despite the water in the man-made Buckeye Lake being at the lower winter level over concerns about the structural integrity of its earthen dam, and the ensuing economic problems this causes for local businesses, or maybe because of this, the lake is serene around dusk. Not currently being deep enough for boats, the only disturbances are the odd catfish or blue heron. Very peaceful.
Small Mushroom and Stones
Backing up from grand views of public spaces in modern, urban settings, I present some photographs of small yet appealing shapes from a recent hike. I like the way these stones have carved pillars beneath them where erosion was prevented.
The living things make their own little shapes in Stone Valley, too. The moss hasn’t grown as much in the shadow of the mushroom.
Contradictory Utopia
In preparation for my upcoming travels to the West Coast next month, I was looking back at the images of Portland, Oregon’s Pearl District. It seems representative of some of the common features of West Coast cities: newer architecture that incorporates a mixture of scales (human vs. superhuman), modern interpretations of some more traditional forms (like the bridge, which resembles a traditional Japanese zig-zag bridge), and a generally utopian, “city of the future!” vibe.
Perhaps no scene better emphasized the sometimes-contradictory nature of a growing city than this one: a yoga class in a sunny park on a summer afternoon, across the street from a shadowed construction site. Juxtapositions are rarely so literal.
Generations
Self-Portrait VI
I occasionally play with self-portraiture, but I almost always shoot with natural light. I was inspired by this shot to try some super-stark and very dramatic lighting. I’m quite happy with the way the point-source LED lighting from my cell phone created the tiny sparkle to my eye. If I were a more poetic person, I’d say something about the glint of an idea forming.
Go with the Flow
Views of the Past
These images are from the Genessee Country Village and Museum, which recreates some of the aspects of nineteenth-century American life. I thought that a bit of black and white photography (with an HDR touch) could be the perfect tool to convey the moment-out-of-time aspect. Here, a balloon is ready for launch.
The old buildings have a smallness to them that I appreciated: the distance between stories was not so large, and they feel on more of a human scale.
Campus, Bay, and City
The view from atop Berkeley’s Campanile is a nostalgic one, with San Francisco and Oakland popping up in the distance above the sprawl. Walking along those broad, slightly cracked, and sun-baked pathways of Berkeley’s campus never quite felt natural, though. Can a place magnified beyond human scale feel that way?
Smell the Hydrangeas
Canton USA
My American town always reminds me of Thornton Wilder’s “Our Town,” and I think his comment about the play also applies to life in the North Country: “[It] should be performed without sentimentality or ponderousness–simply, dryly, and sincerely.”
Full River
Water levels in the Raquette River through Stone Valley (site of some excellent rocks) were quite high, leading to normally dry areas (like this one) overflowing with impromptu waterfalls. Surfaces and water levels in various areas didn’t want to match up, and made for a feeling like the whole river had been “assembled” out of order.

















