The Future Wasn’t Already There, But Now It’s Evenly Distributed

My favorite William Gibson quote is, “The future is already here—it’s just not very evenly distributed.” How we gauge futurity—or how we identify the traits we associate with future-ness—means that some places will have more “future” to them than others. A mountaintop in the Adirondacks might be pretty similar to its condition 100 years ago, while downtown Berkeley would be unrecognizable.

This image is a picture of the past, from the “future”: I wanted to print a tall, vertical image of Berkeley and the Bay but had (it turns out) never quite taken the one I wanted. I had taken the two pictures that went into making this image as part of a larger panorama in 2013 that never quite came out. Here in the present, I pulled in every technique in my arsenal—Adobe’s super resolution, Topaz AI noise reduction, frequency separation—to assemble two images from a circa-2010 16 MP Nikon D7000 into the 76 MP monster you see below. This one is definitely worth clicking through to full resolution.

The Future Wasn't Already There, But Now It's Evenly Distributed

Shores of Lake Cahuilla

Apparently the original Lake Cahuilla was a prehistoric lake in the Coachella Valley; its modern recreation is a reservoir in the hills outside town. The relationship between humans and nature in the region is well-encapsulated by that point of comparison.

Shores of Lake Cahuilla

Tall Stack

Seeking to print some images for a tall, narrow section of wall near a window in my office, I realized that I don’t shoot vertically very often. Perhaps that comes from what originally drove my interest in photography—making cooler desktop wallpapers for my computer. I traveled back to 2013 to find a vertical shot that really tickled my fancy (though luckily Adobe’s Super Resolution was up to the task of upsizing for printing.) The warm sodium-vapor-and-neon glow of San Francisco’s Embarcadero (stacked with the Transamerica Pyramid and Coit Tower) are a moment frozen in time, if not least because the switch to LED streetlights is totally changing the hue of an American city at night.

Tall Stack

The Loneliest Car on Route 74

Along the sweeping curves of California’s Palms to Pines Highway, above the expanse of the Coachella Valley, my eye was captured by the tiny, static light emitter that was a parked car in a turnout. When the long exposure had converted every other vehicle to a ghostly stream, stillness mean detail—enough detail to start imagining noir-tinged stories about clandestine desert meetings. (I’m pretty sure the reality is more mundane…)

The Loneliest Car on Route 74

Integratron

Landers, California’s Integratron is said to be at the intersection of ley lines and underground reservoirs, and was originally designed to hold a device that its creator hoped would extend human lifespans. While I can’t say I’ve been able to verify any of that information, its stark white presence in the desert above the Coachella Valley is certainly striking.

Integratron

While it was freezing and blustery outside, within the Integratron, the enormous parabolic dome of wood (with no metal used in its construction) was definitely warm and inviting. I’ll attribute this to thermodynamics more than supernatural forces.

Within the Integratron

Horses Among the Preparations

The background of this image—fleets of golf carts, tons of bedding, parking lots of trucks and horse trailers, plus busy grooms and working students—is a good reminder of the effort that goes into the equestrian experience happening in the foreground.

Horses Among the Preparations

California Wind Turbine

An iconic image of renewable energy in California, if I do say so myself: scrub brush in the foreground, mountains in the background, and a huge wind turbine in the center of it all. I particularly like the way this particular shutter speed allowed for just a slight blur at the tips of the turbine blades.

California Wind Turbine