Indian summer

When: November 15, 2008
Where: Brooklyn & Manhattan, NY
Words: Unglamorous but ulcer-free

It rained almost the entire time I was in New York for the latest Canteen hijinks, except for two gorgeous hours on Saturday afternoon. During that window, I got to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge for the first time, under a sky that looked like this:



Bridge construction blows my mind. Here are the bolts that hold it all together:


And here's the spider's web you see when you look up:


These are my hosts, Stephen (Canteen's publisher) and Dr. Minal.



It's apparently my goal to look windblown in a red-striped shirt in as many countries as possible.


The big Proposition 8 protests were being held nationwide that afternoon, so they shut down a few of the highway exits.


This is the final approach to Manhattan, looking up:


And looking down:



This golden tree was holding court at the intersection of Broadway and Chambers.


New York protestors get serious points for creative signage. Here are a few of my favorites:




This is apparently the actual name of this plaza, unless somebody woke up feeling extra-homophobic and hung a fake sign before the rally:


We took the subway back from the station with the best art, or so I think. I shot a black-and-white version of one of these eye mosaics last year. It's prettier but less realistic than full color:

Sprung

When: May 4, 2008
Where: Mr. & Mrs. D's garden
Words: Just them that bloom.

inaugural soufflé: fortification before observation

the guardian

the shadows did exactly what i asked

the evil eye

the dragonfly

and even if you just look down

Passing the Torch

When: April 9, 2008
Where: Justin Herman Plaza, San Francisco
Why: Protesting/supporting the Beijing Olympics torch
Words: Judgment day

It was pristine in the city, and the masses had gathered to speak their minds. I'd never seen so many Chinese flags. Our art director pointed out what a gorgeous shade of red they are.



This crew was tasked with recording the official ceremony in the plaza, but it never happened. Later that afternoon at SFO, the mayor went through the subdued motions of a mini-ceremony before the torch was whisked off on its private plane to the next undisclosed location.


There was a police barrier at the foot of these steps, so all the uniforms and suits could keep an eye on the crowd from above.


It seemed like there were equal numbers of protesters and supporters. The latter were mostly middle-aged and elderly Chinese Americans in matching black shirts, many with hats and fans.

At one point, a large group began a quiet tai chi performance to welcome the torch, marked only by the collective snap of a hundred fans when they took their mark.




For a while, I stood near a bunch of really excited high-school kids in white T-shirts. Every 15 minutes or so, they'd disappear under one of the huge animal costumes sitting on the ground, then march through the crowd while percussion came from somewhere nearby.




Protesters often drowned out the cheers that followed the performances.





For the most part, the disagreements looked vehement but peaceful. The only real confrontation I saw was between this silent pro-Tibet sign holder and a group of China supporters who shouted at him and held up their American and Chinese flags to block his message.



The whole scene was hectic and surreal. On my way back up the Embarcadero to work, I turned around one last time and saw this:


A final note: You'll be relieved to learn that Tibet can apparently be freed for a bargain price. Or so the trees say.

Up the Coast

When: February 22–25, 2008
Where: Seattle
Words: Just a handful.

The Players

The other weekend, an uncharacteristically tardy Southwest plane carried me to Seattle to see these good people:

avi & jenny

claire!

For company, I brought along this guy and a wicked case of hat hair.

from top right: k2, hat hair, mia

Sculpture Park

It was sunny and beautiful all weekend—in Seattle, in February. What? Yes. On Saturday, we went to the Olympic Sculpture Park.

Not sure of this artist's name, but I do love ampersands. They might even become part of a tattoo someday. What? Yes, that much.

Eagle, by Alexander Calder:


There were dozens of matching chairs along the path next to the Calder. They were mostly pointed at the water, not the art. I liked that.


Wake, by Richard Serra:

serra detail

And here's a giant typewriter eraser escaping down a hill. Ours is not to ask why.


This piece reminds me of a small windblown tree made of silver wire that my aunt and uncle gave me for my 13th birthday. It lives on a white shelf in my bathroom.

two and tree

On the way back to the car, I looked down.

Seattle Aquarium

On Monday, we wandered around being tourists. The route from Elliott Bay bookstore to Pike Place Market took us by the little city aquarium, so we stopped to visit the anemones.

i really enjoy saying "anemone"

I don't remember the name of this bird, only that a sign near it read: "These are not puffins." So you can knock that off the list of possibilities.


Billions of frantic, rubbery, very active baby salmon:


In closing: If you were wasted and I were a jellyfish, here's what I'd look like.