HDR Photography
Visiting Governors Island (lacking that apostrophe since 1784) for the first time this weekend, I was astonished to see its historic buildings standing in such contrast to the sleekly modern shape of One World Trade Center in the distance. The island is only 800 yards off the coast of Manhattan, but seems a generation away.
Sutro Tower has a Neo-Tokyo style at any time of day, but a hazy orange sunset adds a layer of Blade Runner/Cyberpunk 2077 style to the overwatching structure.
My favorite cities are those with borders artificially constrained by water (like San Francisco, Hong Kong, or Manhattan), usually leading to towering structures and high density. San Francisco’s situation was different for a long time; a subset of NIMBY residents (alongside an array of other economic factors) meant that this grid of smaller buildings persists, in spite of housing shortages and corresponding high housing prices. As this slowly changes and the city begins to warm to the idea of new development, this uniform grid of little buildings might someday shift.
As promised, images from the Corinthian Yacht Club’s Friday Night Race. I’m told that the boat in the lead is particularly valuable enough that it should be in the lead.
The light changed over the course of the evening, lending the setting a different feel that matched the coastline west of the center of San Francisco.
Looking back on some of my earliest shots of the California coastline this evening: Light-leaked soft blues and golds are the colors. Is the soundtrack the jangle of surf music guitars or just the crashing of waves?
California coastline is so much bumpier and more dramatic than the eastern locations I grew up with. Can you spot the two tiny people on the left cliff, overlooking the water? Nothing like a couple of tiny people to provide a sense of scale.
Coastlines are so common in stretches of California that they are just a bit mundane. The subdivisions and mid-twentieth-century houses along the shore just don’t seem exotic or strange enough for a “special” place. Seeing a picture like this one makes mid-80s synths play in my head.
I haven’t been away for more than a couple of months and already I miss the California coast.
The stunning, overwhelming, almost-heartbreaking Muir Woods National Monument in California has become a photographic cliché. (Thanks, Ansel Adams.) That doesn’t prevent me from discovering something new in every corner and every moment. The incredible contrast of scale between ferns and sequoias twists the mind, and the quiet, misty paths (early in the morning anyway) transport you to an overwhelming alternate world.
Another one from Muir woods. Teeming with life, this shot pretty well sums up why I like walking through the forest, even on a grey day.
During my recent trip to Muir Woods I couldn’t help but notice all of the ferns. They make up the most of the backdrop, coming in all shapes and sizes. They always remind me of home, and I’ve always found the combinations of very green leaves and brown, almost red, underbrush visually appealing.
Early in the morning, before another human has arisen, in the fog and rain and the sound of crashing California surf, the cliffs of Marin are strange and alien and haunting. They stagger out of the fog, all stunted shrubs and jagged rocks and decaying 20th century gun emplacements. I’ve always rather fancied the idea that America kept expanding until they reached the end of the continent, where the cliffs and the alien landscape drove us all a bit mad.
Foggy, miserable mornings in Berkeley are the perfect time to reminisce about the perfect Atlantic views of southern Brazil. Standing high up on the succulent-shrouded cliffs, the azure waves crashing below, the start of an afternoon storm blowing across the water, puts life in perspective.
Sometimes I forget how awesome real ocean surf is.
My last trip to La Jolla, CA gave me a chance to shoot from the summit of Mt. Soledad. I’m continually astonished by the degree to which nature has been remodeled by the folks who settled California.
Decaseconds 