Postcard From Tombstone

A very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Southern Arizona. Santa shows up in different ways in different places. In Arizona, the traditional sleigh is replaced by a stagecoach and the reindeer are superseded by horses.

This is my last Postcard for this year as I am taking off for the holidays. Will be in Yuma, another famous name from the Old West, to visit my son for Christmas. I should be arriving there on Sunday at 3:10 (Get it?).

My Christmas shopping is all done (finally) and is even wrapped. Sadly, I already know what my son is giving me for Christmas, thanks to some very stupid people at Verizon. They sent me e-mails announcing my gift, an iPhone 5, then proceeded to wipeout my current phone’s voice mail password. Brilliant!

Still, I am excited about getting the iPhone as it has arguably the best camera on any phone…and by now you know I love to take pictures. I’ve already downloaded some great photo apps for both my iPhone and iPad. Will share some of the better photos here.

Anyway, I hope your Christmas will be wonderful, filled with family, friends, and great gifts…not to mention Peace on Earth, and Goodwill to Men (and Women).

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

If you subscribe to this blog by e-mail and wish to purchase a print or send a free e-mail greeting card using this image, click this link to the main Postcard Blog Site. Don’t forget, e-mail greeting cards are free.

Postcard from Chicago

In case you don’t recognize this interesting reflective sculpture, it is, “The Bean.” Located in Millennium Park, on Michigan Ave. in downtown Chicago, it is a major tourist attraction. You can’t tell from this photo, but it is shaped like a bean…hence the name.

So, if it is a reflecting sculpture (meaning it’s a curved mirror), why can’t you see me taking this photo? Actually, I am in the picture…you just can’t see me. No, it is not a trick of Photoshop…I am there. Way, way off in the distance, and I mean way off, is a bridge with a balustrade just like the one in the lower art of the photo. Wait…it is the same one as in the lower part of the picture. It just appears to be way off in the distance.

The explanation is simple. The Bean is like a wide angle lens, similar to a so called fish-eye lens…so everything appears farther off than it is. And I used a longer lens to close the distance between me and the Bean. It’s like a double lens trick with not real trick involved. I got lucky with the bird.

Trust me…just go to Chicago and see for yourself.

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

If you subscribe to this blog by e-mail and wish to purchase a print or send a free e-mail greeting card using this image, click this link to the main Postcard Blog Site. Don’t forget, e-mail greeting cards are free.

Postcard from Tucson

I wish I could tell you I took this picture yesterday and that it is always spring here in Tucson. But, that would be a fib. I took the photograph in April…and our winter has actually begun.

It is around 50 outside with intermittent rain showers. My shorts are temporarily put away and am now wearing jeans. I still wear a t-shirt, but usually there is a hoodie on top of it. It will be like this for a few more days, then we will get back into the 60’s.

Now, I know some of you are already mired in winter with temps often below or at freezing for the entire day…and that you don’t feel the least bit sorry for me or my fellow residents in southern Arizona. That is fine. But don’t be angry at me for my suffering this cold weather.

The people you should be angry with are your friends and neighbors who desert your towns and cities to enjoy the mild autumn, winter, and spring that we enjoy here…the ones we call Snowbirds.

They leave you behind to endure your harsh winters alone, while coming here in their RV’s to make our cities even more crowded…to fill up our parking spaces, make our grocery store lines longer and fill up our baseball and concert hall seats. I have never seen all the handicap parking spaces completely filled at Wal-Mart and Costco until I moved here.

Guess what? We don’t like them very much either. They fly south for the winter when it gets to cold…and head back north when it gets too warm. They are fraidy-cats for all seasons.

But, they do spent their dollars here which helps our economy. But what they don’t know and is Arizona’s deep dark secret is our state only charges sales tax when they are here. As soon as they leave, the tax is lifted. We only let them temporarily occupy our land for as much money as we can squeeze out of them…kind of like Las Vegas.

So the above photo is for all of you who endure harsh winters and dream of the return of Spring…and for us local Arizona residents who long for the carefree days of Spring when the snowbirds are gone and we again find close-in parking spaces and shop tax-free in our stores.

PS. The above soliloquy was written while sober, but with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Just me and my keyboard having some fun.

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

If you subscribe to this blog by e-mail and wish to purchase a print or send a free e-mail greeting card using this image, click this link to the main Postcard Blog Site.

Don’t forget, e-mail greeting cards are free.

Postcard from Chiricahua

This is another example of the amazing rock formations you find at Chiricahua National Monument in Southeastern section of Arizona.

I show you this picture because I was there again last week. My friend and fellow photographer Dave from Wenatchee was down here to do a couple of art shows. As he had never been there, we drove to Chiricahua and spent the day exploring.

We took no pictures, so this photo is from my last trip to this wonderland of rocks a couple of years ago. The light was not very good last week and there were no clouds. For Dave, it was a scouting exhibition to see if he might want to comeback sometime in the future to take photos for his shows.

Chiricahua is one of the most remote National Parks/Monuments in the continental US. From Tucson, it is a 2.5 hour drive. The Apaches called it “The Land of Standing Up Rocks.” There is the lower part of the park where you first arrive. After an 8-mile drive, the road eventually climbs up to the high country.

Up there are 3 main sites with fantastic views of these standing rocks: Sugarloaf, Echo Canyon, and Massai Point. This photo was taken along the Echo Canyon Trail, my favorite trail in the park.

There are several points of interest with such exotic names as Echo Canyon Grotto, Organ Pipe Formations, Cochise Head, Sea Captain, and China Boy. If you go there, be sure and stop at the Visitor Center to learn more about the park.

By the way, the park gets its name from the Chiricahua Apache Tribe. 

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

Postcard from Oakland

This painting is a revision of painting I did almost two years ago (I also shared it here around that same time). One of the nice things you can do with digital painting is start over again or rework an existing image.

And, that is what I did. I kept looking at the original and wondering if I could do better. So I started experimenting…and eventually I came up with this new version. I like it better as it emphasizes the brush strokes (click on the image to see a larger version and you will see what I mean). One of the many advantages of a digital painting software is that it contains hundreds of different kinds of brushes that can be customized…leaving one with a nearly infinite number of brushes to choose from.

This can be an advantage…or it can be overwhelming. In this instance, I created a special brush, then saved it so I can use it again. If I lived another hundred years, I could never become a total master of Corel’s Painter software. It just supplies you with so many possibilties!

Anyway, I’ve always enjoyed digitally painting flowers. I guess it has to do with my innate love of nature and beauty. And there is no better place to capture the beauty of spring flowers that the northern climates of California, Oregon and Washington.

These particular flowers, called Pelargoniums, reside at my brother’s home in Oakland, CA. He is the consummate gardener, growing flowers of all kinds outside, and a wide variety of orchids inside his hothouse. It’s a nice hobby that yields some beautiful results. Each of us have our own ways of enjoying beauty. Mom and Dad would be proud.

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

Postcard from Bryce Canyon

You are looking at the only waterfall in Bryce Canyon National Park. And, believe it or not, it does not have a name. Truth be told, it isn’t really that big. And, if you really want the deep, dark secret about it, it is was formed by the hand of man.

Let me explain. The falls and its creek are located below the main portion of Bryce Canyon…you know, the one where are the tourists are (here is another secret…Bryce Canyon isn’t really a canyon!).

But back to the nameless falls. Back in the late 1800’s, this area, and all of Utah for that matter, was settled by Mormon Pioneers. They built farms and ranches below Bryce, in an around the towns of Tropic and Cannonville. Well, as you can probably guess, Utah is not blessed with an abundance of water, especially below Bryce Canyon.

So, some very clever and hard working pioneers dug a 3-4 mile long irrigation canal from the East Fork of the Sevier River (which is west of the Park) and connected it up to the canyon you see here which is called Water Canyon…and the water flowed. There just happened to be a nice drop in the canyon where a waterfall fit in very nicely.

The canal that flows into Water Canyon has the gawd-awful name of Tropic Ditch, something best left off of the tourist brochures. If you pull up a the National Park map of Bryce Canyon, you can see how the canal runs from the river to Water Canyon. Its one of the very few places where you will see the name “Tropic Ditch” in print.

To get to the falls, you leave the tourist section of the park and drop down towards Tropic on Highway 12. Soon you will reach the Mossy Cave Trail parking area. Park there and hike up Water Canyon about 1/2 mile to the falls.  

As you might guess from looking at the photo, the walk offers some spectacular views of another section of Bryce Canyon. It is an easy walk to the falls, although if you want to go all the way to Mossy Cave, it gets fairly steep (really not worth it either).

I have no idea why no one ever gave a name to the falls. Maybe we should hold a contest. How about Tropic Falls, or Water Canyon Falls? Being a simple person, my favorite is Water Falls. Now that would be unique.

Postcard from the Cascades

AUTUMN CAME

By ripping cheeks,
with cold breeze,
with twitter of sparrows,
Autumn came!
Autumn came to cover
shivering earth
with colorful leaves carpet!
Autumn floats like
sun's epitaph
Autumn echoed like
farewell song of birds
in the evening!
Autumn touches the
breath of last leaves
on the verge of falling
with warmth!
Autumn challenges the
confidence of the tree
who hides buds in the heart

Mula Veereswara Rao

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

Postcard from the Southwest

Here is another recently completed painting of desert Spring flowers here in the Sonoran Desert. If you are not familiar with how the Sonoran differs from other desert types, let me explain.

While most deserts are somewhat barren and covered in sand, this desert is alive with plant life. Here is where you find the famous Saguaro Cactus, those beautiful very tall cactus with arms that form in unusual shapes. They live to a ripe old age numbering in hundreds of years. The arms don’t even form until they are at least 100 years old.

But there are many other types of cactus and desert flora that thrive here. I live in the western foothills above Tucson. Our hills are green all year around with trees and flowers (and cactus). Here it is in November and some of our plants and bushes have flowers on them. 

The key to the Sonoran Desert's climate is the amount of rainfall. More rain falls on the Sonoran Desert than any other desert. When it does get rain, the desert is damp, and the air is cool. The plants and trees here thrive. 

The seasons are similar to where you live, with some differences. Spring is a time when flowers bloom if the winter and fall had enough rain. In summer and we have lots of rain, courtesy of the monsoons that form in the Gulf of Mexico. With the arrival of autumn comes cooler breezes, which lets the deserts summer heat wear away. Winter brings snow to the mountains and colder air to the desert valley.

The Sonoran Desert is mostly in Southern Arizona and Mexico, with some parts of it reaching into southeastern California. But the best part of it is in and around Tucson, especially the western section. Saguaro National Park is here and is a great place to see what the Sonoran Desert is all about.

So, kiddies, that is your lesson today about the Sonoran Desert. I hope you will come down here sometime and see it for yourself. It is worth it (except in summer).

Have a Happy Thanksgiving. I will be back next week with more photos and stories from around the world. 

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

Postcard from Zion

As Autumn now fades into Winter, I can’t resist showing at least one more Autumn photo, this one from Zion National Park. With its towering peaks and narrow canyons, Zion National Park is a unique place to enjoy the fall extravaganza. I’ve shown a few images here before, but not this one.

There are no towering peaks in this photo, only 4 different examples of Autumn leaves, all in one place. Maybe one shouldn’t count green, but that would be splitting hairs. 

This photo was done in the north part of Zion Canyon, up in the area known as the Narrows. I found that the greatest variety of fall colors are in this area. Don’t get me wrong…almost all of Zion Canyon features spectacular colors. But usually its mostly yellow, except in a few areas where red and orange abound and are mixed in with yellow….like the narrows.

I didn’t go back there this year and I understand I missed a really colorful year. But, the same can be said of last year, which is when I took this photo. I am thinking about going back next year, maybe a little earlier to capture the fall colors in the high country. We shall see. 

Postcard from the Desert

I had a hankering to do some painting recently and got out the old digital paintbrushes and came up with this little gem. Those of you who know my work in this area know that I use my own photographs, then use specialized computer software to create a painting. I use many different brushes and digital mediums to come up with a final painting.

I took the original photo out in the desert in 2010, a year when we had a wildflower extravaganza. It doesn’t happen every year, but when the rains and temps are just right, the flowers bust out all over. It’s quite a site to behold. We had some flowers last spring, but not as spectacular as 2010. In 2011, if memory serves, we had no spring wildflowers at all.

Not long after I took the original photo for this painting, I had occasion to drive from Tucson to Yuma and back…about a 4 hour drive each way. It was non-stop flowers the entire way. It really made for a spectacular drive, which is amazing as that trip is desert the entire way and can be quite boring (the key to surviving this drive normally is audio books).

I often look at original paintings of the impressionists and wonder if the painting would have made a good photograph. Mostly, the answer is no. But when they applied brush to canvas, a normally mundane scene came alive with their interpretations of light and color.

It was this idea that originally got me started creating digital paintings from my original photos. Over the years, photography has developed its own aesthetic criteria…in other words, what makes for a good photograph. And those same criteria may or may not work for paintings. Try it sometime at an art museum. Try to imagine a landscape painting as a photo. You just may discover what I mean.

Then try looking at a great artistic photo and imagine it as a painting. You may find that the scene is much better captured by the photograph. Ah, creativity! It can be quite a mental challenge.

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

Postcard from Salt River Canyon

Just above the canyon floor I found this old, broken down wild west jail. It made for an interesting photo, especially after I did a little doctoring in Photoshop. I made it into an old west-style photo. I did some research and could find absolutely nothing about it.

So since I don’t have much to write about, I thought I would take this space and print a cowboy poem. It has nothing to do with the photo, other than it is about an outlaw who might have spent time in a jail such as this, if he had not met a violent end. Enjoy.

Little Dick West
Jeff Richards

What made Little Dick West go bad?
He was a homeless waif.
Rolled up his blankets under the stars.
He was a hard working cowboy
when he met Bill Doolin.
Maybe that’s what made him go bad.

Maybe he was uncomfortable in his skin.
He appears porky in his photograph.
barrel chest, fat face,
pig eyes full of cross-eyed anger,
black eyebrows,
that stretched across his forehead,
thick black beard and moustache,
hairy as Sasquatch.

Maybe the ladies lowered their parasols,
the kids crawled under the boardwalk,
and the dogs snarled as he lumbered by.
Maybe he was lonely, angry at the world
or maybe simply unlucky

To run with the Doolin-Dalton Gang,
rob banks and trains until Doolin
was felled with 21 buckshot wounds
to the chest.

In 1898 Dick was currying his horse
on a ranch outside Guthrie,
when three lawmen crept up.
He dropped the curry comb,
flashed twin Colts,
but before he could fire,
he was chiseled full of holes.

Poor Little Dick West, I found out later
wasn’t fat at all.
He was as gangly as a coyote.
Already dead in the photograph,
He was ripe for burial.

 

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

Postcard from Hearst Castle

Here I was, in this magnificent library in Hearst Castle, surrounded by over 4,000 books…and I couldn’t find anything to read. Thank God I had my Kindle with me. Just kidding (as if you didn’t know). Somehow I can’t image William Randolph Hearst using a Kindle if he were alive today.

Regardless, Hearst build this incredible library for himself and his guests. Unlike the private Gothic study, where only few guests were allowed, this room was open to anyone. Sadly, only part of the library is pictured here. In fact, it is 80 feet long…and the ceilings…WOW!

Besides the books, many of them quite rare, the library also contained one of Hearst’s most treasured collections: 150 ancient Greek vases, all over 2,000 years old. You can see one of them on the table on the right. Most of the others line the walls above the bookshelves. Some are visible in this photo (click the photo to enlarge it). Because of the current laws regarding antiquities, it would be impossible to amass such a collection today (well, legally anyway). 

With a room such as this, one would never consider taking any physical exercise here…well a normal person anyway. However in his autobiography, Harpo Marx talks about doing somersaults in here with Marion Davies, Hearst’s long time paramour. Now, that would have been worth seeing.

Flash photography is forbidden anywhere inside the castle, so thank God my Nikon is equipped with an anti-shake lens or I would have never captured this image. But I think I prefer this natural light rather than artificial lighting. It gives the room a more natural warm feeling, perfect for a library.

I wish I wasn’t on a tour so I could spend hours in here wandering around, looking at the books and vases at my leisure. Much better than wandering around a Barnes and Noble.

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

If you subscribe to this blog by e-mail and wish to purchase a print or send a free e-mail greeting card using this image, click this link to the main Postcard Blog Site. Don’t forget, e-mail greeting cards are free.

Postcard from Chinatown

Did you know that San Francisco’s Chinatown is the oldest Chinatown in North America and the largest Chinese community outside of Asia? I bet you didn’t. I also bet you didn’t know its gets more tourists every year than the Golden Gate Bridge. Probably because its easier to get to.

Here is a shortcut to Chinatown for you tourists that requires no automobile…unless you enjoy paying outrageous car park fees in a big city. Leave your car at a BART station anywhere in the Bay Area. Take a BART train to the Powell Street Station. Get out, go up the stairs and look for a cable car. They are at the corner of Powell and Market. You can’t miss it as you are right there.

Then walk right past the long lines of tourists waiting to ride the cable car and continue up Powell St. for 3 blocks. On your right will be the famous Union Square. Grab a Starbucks and sit in the square for a few minutes and enjoy the scenery (this part is optional, but worth it).

The walk across the square to the next street which is Stockton Street. Turn left. Up ahead you will see a tunnel. Walk two blocks to the tunnel and continue on through it. When you emerge, you will be in Chinatown. Easy, huh? Enjoy the view all along the way (I admit the tunnel is boring).

It is ironic that when you walk into the tunnel, you leave Western Civilization behind and emerge in a whole different world. It’s the stuff of science fiction.

Chinatown is not built to attract tourists, even though it does. No indeed. It was originally established in 1848 as a community for Chinese immigrants so they could retain a semblance of the life they left behind. Chinatown is an enclave that continues to retain its own customs, languages, shops, places of worship, social clubs, and identity. One can quite easily become immersed in a microcosmic Asian world, filled with herbal shops, temples, pagoda roofs and dragon parades.

As I said, it was not built for tourists, but of course, we come there in droves. But don’t expect shops and restaurants that have a western feel to them (although there are a few). This is Chinatown, the real deal.

When I was there, I visited a few shops and other locals with my camera, like this more modern Chinese market. But I ate lunch at a whole-in-the-wall restaurant that offered dim sum and other Chinese delicacies that were wonderful. It was a bit of a dump inside with cheap bench seats equipped with soy sauce and not much else. But that is normal here. Had to look around to find western-style utensils and napkins (never was any damn good with chopsticks).

As there were numerous Chinese people inside eating lunch with me, that’s a tipoff that the food is good. Here is a tip: before eating at any restaurant in Chinatown, look inside to see how many Chinese are eating. That will give you a clue as to the food quality. And before you ask, there are no Panda Express joints in Chinatown.

To use the bathroom, I had to borrow a key from one of the cooks. The key was on something resembling a bent tire iron and had two rolls of toilet paper on it. Quite unique. But that is Chinatown.

When you visit San Francisco, be sure to make Chinatown a destination. It’s the real deal, as compared to Fisherman’s Wharf, Pier 39, and other such places there that are built to take your tourist dollars. And make sure to find a real hole-in-the-wall restaurant for lunch or dinner. You will love it.

Postcard from Fredericksburg, VA

Fredericksburg, VA, about 50 mile south of Washington, DC, sits on the west side of Rappahannock River and was the site of a major Civil War battle in late 1862. I photographed this scene several years ago on the Memorial Day weekend. For those three days, the town was full of re-enactors, both Union and Confederate. I remember sitting at an outdoor restaurant on the main street having lunch, and seeing Union and Confederate soldiers walking up and down the street. Very strange.

These rebels were camped right on the river (you can see it in the background). Just across the river that day was an encampment of Union troops, which was how it was back in 1862. The rebels held the town at the beginning of the battle.

The river played an important role back then…it is a tidal river which means it goes up and down on a regular basis. It looks easy to cross, and at times, it is. But the Union commander, General Burnside, refused to cross the river until pontoon bridges were brought down from Washington, DC. Those bridges were delayed, giving General Lee time to fortify the town and the heights above the town.

The Union headquarters, on the other side of the river, was high on a bluff overlooking the city. The house once belonged to George Washington and his family, and, ironically, is where Robert E. Lee proposed to his future wife.

When the bridges finally arrived and were set up (at no small cost of life and limb to those Union engineers who did the assembly, Union troops crossed into the town and eventually occupied it. They then preceded to unceremoniously loot the town. The rebels retreated from the town and moved up to the higher ground, mainly to the high ridges on Marye’s Heights.

The not-so-brilliant General Burnside, then sent waves of infantry up the long sloping heights. They were met with an incessant hail of gunfire and canon shot, killing thousands of troops. But he kept sending them, wave after wave, until it became obvious he would not achieve his objective.

On my trip to Fredericksburg, I spent time both in town and up on Marye’s Heights. It was a sobering experience, to say the least, thinking about what happened here. The re-enactors made it all the better experience.

A few months after the first battle, another battle was fought just a few miles out of town at a place called Chancellorsville. Once again, Robert E. Lee won the day with brilliant field tactics. The Union army again suffered another embarrassing defeat, but the rebels also suffered a major loss…Stonewall Jackson was accidentally shot by his own soldiers and died a week later.

In the fading light of day I visited the Chancellorsville battlefield and found the spot where Jackson was shot. Another sobering experience and a chance to appreciate what happened back in 1862 and early 1863 and how it shaped our history. Living out west, you don’t get to experience this kind of living history.

With the heady success of the Confederate army in Virginia, the southern leadership decided to send Lee and his Army of Northern Virginia north into Pennsylvania, to attack the Union in their territory for once…and, with luck threaten Washington DC. But, in Pennsylvania, they met a different Union general in the summer of 1863, at a place where the most important battle of the war was fought. The town…Gettysburg. 

(Click here for more information on the battle of Fredericksburg)

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

If you subscribe to this blog by e-mail and wish to purchase a print or send a free e-mail greeting card using this image, click this link to the main Postcard Blog Site. Don’t forget, e-mail greeting cards are free.

Postcard from Salt River Canyon

The day started out to be a search for autumn leaves. Not an easy task in southern Arizona, especially in October. But we do have mountains here, some of them pretty high. So I decided to take trip northeast, up into the White Mountains.

This was new territory for me…and you know how I love seeing new places. From Tucson I drove nearly 100 miles to the town of Globe. I didn’t expect to find any leaves here as it is only about 700 feet higher than Tucson. But I turned left onto Arizona 60 and headed up into the heart of the mountains. My destination was another small town called Show Low, about 90 miles further east from Globe.

Well, I climbed and climbed into the mountains…then all of a sudden, started heading down again. Down, down, down I went until I came to the bottom of the Salt River Canyon. I heard about the canyon from a friend who said it was a miniature Grand Canyon. Well, in places, it really is quite spectacular.

This photo was taken at the bottom of the canyon where these two bridges cross the river. By using a wide angle lens, I was able to achieve a twisty, roller coaster look to the nearest bridge. I did not use special effects here to achieve the look. The lens did it for me. Ain’t photography grand?

From the canyon floor, I continued my trek eastward and upward to see some autumn color…and I found it, a few miles west of Show-Low. It was nice to see some trees with that special yellow glow on the leaves. Even saw a handful of red leaves. It wasn’t great compared to the Northwest, but I got what I came for. There is Autumn in eastern Arizona.

By the way, Show-Low sits at 6,400 feet. And where did the name come from, you ask?  According to legend, the city was named after a marathon poker game between two local residents. They decided there was not enough room for both of them in their little town.

The two men agreed to let a game of cards decide who was to leave town. According to the tale, one of them said, "If you can show low, you win." The other then turned up the deuce of clubs and replied, "Show low it is." At stake was a 100,000 acres ranch.  PS: Show Low's main street is named "Deuce of Clubs" in remembrance.

Now, aren’t you glad you asked?

(To see a larger version of this photo, just click on the image)

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

If you subscribe to this blog by e-mail and wish to purchase a print or send a free e-mail greeting card using this image, click this link to the main Postcard Blog Site. Don’t forget, e-mail greeting cards are free.

Postcard from Walnut Creek

Can you see the image in this photo? It is not a trick question, just an optical illusion of sorts. What you are looking at is a two story sculpture created by Christian Moeller, a UCLA design/media arts professor. It sits in the Walnut Creek, CA Library. I was on the second story of the library when I took this photo.

Here is the tricky part: when you stand where I stood, or even on the first floor, all you see are books…3,960 books with spines in 12 different different shades of gray from pure white to pitch black.

The only time you can see the actual image (in case you haven’t figured it out, it’s a librarian giving you the “shhh” sign) is when you photograph it. Each book spine represents one pixel of the entire image. And, as I found out when I played with it in Photoshop, the bigger the image the less clear the face. So if you use a digital camera and take a picture, you will see it clearly on your camera’s screen.

It is quite a trick of light. By the way, the colors you see on the face are created by sunlight coming through the windows.

There are plenty of extra books to purchase…the idea being for Walnut Creek residents to fill out their stories in a book…then it is put into the sculpture, replacing a blank book. In time, it will be filled with the memories and histories of the people of Walnut Creek. Pretty great idea!  

If you ever are in or near Walnut Creek, you should go see it for yourself. It is pretty amazing…and don’t forget your camera.

To see a smaller version of this photo so you can better see the librarian, just click on the image. To learn more about this sculpture, click here. There is also a short video showing how it was done.

To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com

Postcard from the Arches

This was one of those photos that was easy to capture. I got up early one morning, made a cup of coffee, then walked about 30 feet behind where I was camped in the Arches National Park, and shot the photo. Simple. The coffee was good and the photo turned out pretty well.

The Arches was one of many stops I made back in late 2008. Long time readers will remember I was on a road trip all over the Western United States, seeing places I’d never seen before. I left my previous home in North Central Washington and eventually wound up here in Tucson. But, I took a few months to make the journey.

I slept in my van most of the time, which was quite comfortable, even in 20 degree temperatures. I usually stayed in campgrounds, with the occasional stay in a hotel when I wanted a long shower, a comfortable bed, and a TV to watch some football.

It was a great trip with lots of memories…and a few good photos. I hated to end the trip, but it was late December, it was snowing in most places, and I felt it was time to put down some roots. December in southern Arizona is quite a bit more comfortable than up anywhere on the Colorado Plateau.

When I look at photos like this one, it brings back those memories of being on the road. It’s a special chapter in my life that I will never forget. To me, there is no greater thrill than to see and explore some beautiful place in our world that I’ve never seen before.

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Postcard from the Oregon Coast

One of the problems with being a professional photographer or even an avid amateur is one’s eye is always looking for the perfect composition in order to make a great image. So, you say, why is that a problem?

Because we photographers often don’t take the time to appreciate where we are…to take in the beauty of a place and see it for what it really is. We get so caught up in composition, light and the other elements that make a good photo that we can’t separate the forest from the trees, so to speak.

Places like this beach on the Oregon Coast are beautiful for the artist, but also beautiful for mind. In a place like this, you can experience the place itself, the beauty of it, and the sense of calm you may not be able to experience anywhere else. Here, you can contemplate such lofty subjects as who you are, how you fit in this world, and for that matter, the universe. All one has to do is open one’s mind. It’s hard to do that when you are focused on taking the perfect photograph.

I bring this up as I remember this beach very well…after I took my photos, I put down the camera and just sat for a short time soaking in the beauty and all it had to offer. It was a calming effect that made my day so much better.

As Emerson once said, “Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting.”

Life is full of beauty, not only in an exquisite photograph or painting, but in the places around the world where it abounds in glorious abundance. It’s not always easy to wake up your conscience mind and let it experience what it sees. But one must always try.

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Postcard from the Cascades

I was thinking this weekend how much I miss fall colors. It’s hard to think about autumn when it 95 down here in Southern Arizona. The hills around my home are as green as you can possible image. True, some of it is the Sugauro cactus, but there are are plenty of other desert plants that are green. Many have flowers on them. Not conducive to thought of autumn.

In Arizona, we do have regular autumn, but only at the higher elevations…places like the White Mountains, Sedona, Oak Creek Canyon and Flagstaff. And that happens in early November.

I remember my Washington State days when I would prowl the eastern portion of the Cascade Foothills and Mountains in October, searching for colorful photo opportunities. I usually had no problems finding them.

When I did art shows up in Leavenworth, WA, I had a 20’ travel trailer parked on private property about 2 miles out of town. There, some of the best autumn photos I ever took were just a few feet away from my trailer.  Now, that was heaven for a photographer.

Take this photo, for instance. I took it one lovely autumn morning about 30’ from my trailer…and I have more from the same vicinity. Lord, how I miss spending October in the Cascades…especially in October. Imagine, sitting at your table, drinking coffee, and seeing this view out your window.

Sometimes I would dawn a jacket and sit outside, just to be closer to the view. Ah, the good old days.

Last Autumn, my friend Dave and I did an Autumn photo trip to Zion National Park in November. And, you’ve seen some of the amazing photos here that I took on that trip. Our timing could not have been more perfect.

For this year, Dave and I are talking about a trip to the Sedona/Oak Creek Canyon for our Autumn photos. I hiked through Oak Creek Canyon in late November, 2007…and while I got some good photos, the best of Autumn was already passed. Am hoping for better luck this year. We shall see.

You might ask if I am sorry I moved to the Southwest when I could be enjoying all the colors I left behind. The answer is a definite NO!! My life is very rich and rewarding down here. After all, I am still wearing shorts and a t-shirt all day long. Are you?

For all you readers up in the Northwest, enjoy this season and take it all in. Who knows, you might wind up in Arizona in the future and miss it…like me.

Postcard from Los Angeles

While this photo was taken in San Francisco at AT&T Park (home of the SF Giants), this story is really about what happened in Los Angeles last night, at Dodger Stadium.

Here is the setting: The Giants are playing the Dodgers in the next-to-last regular season game of the year. The Giant clinched the Western Division of the National League many days ago and are in the playoffs. The Dodgers are in second place, but are only two games out of the last wild card spot to be in the playoffs. For them to get in, they need the Cardinals to lose and they need to beat the Giants.

The Cardinals lose…so the Dodgers and their fans still have hope. But the Giants stomp all over their hopes by beating the Dodgers 3-2. Except for a meaningless last game to be played today, the Dodgers’ season is over. And I say, "Hooray for that." I despise the Dodgers. I don't want them to win anything. My favorite baseball team is of course, the Giants. My second favorite team is anyone playing the Dodgers at any time.

And I think you will find that most Giants fans, especially those from the Bay Area, feel the same way. True San Franciscans loath all LA teams. It's something that is instilled in you at a very young age. And rest assured, the same feelings toward San Francisco teams are held by Angelinos everywhere.

The San Francisco/Los Angeles rivalry is like none other. For instance, Chicago and New York, each have two teams (in baseball)...and I found out on my recent visits to Chicago, fans of one team hate the other team. When the White Sox were in the World Series a few years ago, Cubs fans rooted for the other team...vigorously!

But there is a big difference in New York and Chicago rivalries. Those teams play in different leagues. The Giants and Dodgers are not only in the same league, they are in the same division.  Naturally, the rivalry is more intense, to put it mildly.

It was the same when the two teams were based in the New York area. New York Giants fans hated the Brooklyn Dodgers and visa versa. I talked to a woman recently who grew up in New York and whose whole family were intense Giants fans. She married another New Yorker whose whole family were devoted to the Dodgers. That marriage almost didn't happen.

In 1958, both teams moved...to San Francisco and Los Angeles respectively. The animosity was automatic as the rivalry between SF and LA had been long established by then.

Before 1958, there was an intense rivalry when LA had the Rams. San Franciscans, me included, despised the Rams. It was so wonderful when, in the 80's and 90's, the 49ers pounded the Rams, which they almost always did. I must admit, since the Rams moved to St. Louis, the rivalry lost its edge a bit. Rivalries are between cities, much more so than teams.

I was once an Oakland Raider fan and rooted hard for them. Then Al Davis moved the team to Los Angeles. That was the end of that relationship. You don't screw your local fans and move your team to the worst city imaginable! True, the Raiders are back in Oakland, but I don't care. Some sins are just not forgivable.

And just to put a final period on this, you must know that college fans of Stanford and Cal feel that extra surge of adrenaline when they play USC and UCLA...especially USC. We love to see them get crushed. Even here in Tucson, when UofA plays either team in any sport, I love seeing those LA teams go down to defeat. It feels so good.

Earlier this year, the Dodgers were here in Tucson to play a spring training game against the White Sox. Guess what baseball cap I wore? SF Giant...you betcha!! I don't hate the Dodgers or their players, I just despise all LA sports teams. Why? Because they are from LA and I am from San Francisco.

Sports just bring out the best in a person. Ain’t it fun?

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Postcard from Hearst Castle

The Roman Pool is your final view of opulence before leaving Hearst Castle. You walk downhill from the castle and go through this very large pool area to catch a bus to the bottom of the hill.

If you aren’t already blown away by what you saw up in the castle in the clouds, this pool should put you over the top. It’s called the Roman Pool as it’s concept is to mimic the old Roman baths, still found all over Europe. The Romans loved their baths and it was one of the first things they build in a newly conquered territory. And just like this pool, they were heated too.

But, I think even the most jaded of old Romans would be blown away by this pool. My photo doesn’t do it justice. It’s huge! I’ve seen many a Roman bath in my European travels and none equaled this in size.  I don’t know the dimensions, but on the roof are two tennis courts…not side-by-side, but back-to-back!

It is t-shaped with a hidden diving platform built one-story above where the T’s join. And, if you turned 180 degrees from where I took this photos, you would see the exact same view at the other end…three windows and a door reflected in the calm water. Thank God no one was swimming this day as it would have ruined my shot.

Around the pool, there are eight statues of Roman gods. Oh, and those tiles you see around the pool that look like gold. Well, they are gold…24 carat gold to be precise. In fact, those tiles are one inch square…same with the other glass tiles of cobalt blue and orange…and they go all around the pool as well as below the water. You gotta love the beauty of it all!

It took seven years to build this pool and three of those years to lay the tiles. Too bad Hearst had to wait so long for a swim. Oh, I forgot. He could swim in the outdoor Neptune Pool while he waited.

I just picture myself here reading a book, taking an occasional dip, eating a roast beef sandwich with chips for lunch, while waiting for Happy Hour up at the castle to begin. What a life! Beats being an old Roman. 

Postcard from San Francisco

It may look like an old Italian trolley car…and in fact, it is. This beautiful old street car used to run through downtown Milan. But now it rumbles through San Francisco; an F-line trolley (perhaps the “F” on the back of the car gave that away).

The F Line is unique in San Francisco. It’s almost as special at the famous cable cars. And while the cable cars run from Powell Street, over the hills and down to Fisherman’s Wharf, this proud beauty runs from the east end of Market Street, past Powell Street cable cars, all the way to the Ferry Building…then takes a hard left, rumbles down the Embarcadero, all the way to…you guessed it…Fisherman’s Wharf.

The cable cars go up and over the hills…the F Line runs the flat route. It’s longer, but still quite scenic. Locals don’t use it very much, mostly tourists these days. But, who cares. Its fun to ride and cheaper than a cable car…and if you count the time it takes to get on a cable car (the lines are long), the F Line is faster.

But that is not what makes the F Line really special. Oh, no. It’s that their trolleys come from all over the world and are perfectly restored antiques. When I was there, I rode in trolleys from Philadelphia, Birmingham, and even an old trolley from San Francisco (1940’s version). There are a total of 20 right now from far off places like Boston, Mexico City, Washington DC, and Brooklyn (not to mention Milan), just to name a few.

The idea for these trolleys came from a non profit organization called The Market Street Railway. They restore these beautiful old street cars and put them back to work. What a great idea! It’s just another sprinkling of fairy dust on this magical City by the Bay.    

Postcard from Chicago

It’s just art. I liked the symmetry. Art can be found all around you. Just look. Andy Warhol painted a soup can, for God’s sake!. Me, I photographed Gatorade.

Maybe the only other people that appreciated these cups were the thousands of runners in the Chicago Marathon. This table of Gatorade was at mile marker 16 of the marathon, so you know it looked awful good to those folks after all they went through to get to this point…and only 8 more miles to go.

I can’t even conceive the thrill of running a marathon…or even running around the block. When I played football and was in the best shape of my life, I hated running those damn 40 yard wind sprints. About killed me!  

And you know what 99.99% of the runners get for their efforts? A little medal they hang around their neck that says they finished. Or was it a t-shirt? I forget. Well, bless them anyway for their efforts. I am glad it makes them happy. But, I still don’t get it.

I must say it was fun to watch, to photograph, and to participate. I got to hand out sponges soaked in water to the runners as they came by my post. Now, that was rewarding, although I was tempted to pull my hand back as a runner reached for it. But, I didn’t. Even at my age, there is still a bit of the mischievous little devil in me.

Postcard from Monterey

The Monterey Bay Aquarium is a great place to visit and enjoy the world of undersea life. Of course, I go mainly to photograph the undersea life, especially colorful ones like this reef.

The difficulty is finding displays with good lighting…most don’t have it. Now my Nikon has anti-shake so I can deal with long exposures. But those damned fish keep moving, ruining my long exposures. Still, about 20% of the photos I took that day turned out OK.

I love photographing the colorful reef exhibits like the one you see here. As you may have guessed from my photos, I love colorful locations. I just wish they would train the fish to stop moving when someone raises their camera. Maybe threaten them with a one-way trip to Bubba Gump's Seafood Joint.

I mentioned in another post that my favorite part of this living museum was the Jellyfish section, called “The Jellies Experience.” One can sit there for hours and watch their slow deliberate movements. So relaxing. These babies can move all they want, they are so graceful and slow. I must be getting old.

One of the benefits for Monterey Bay Aquarium is where it sits. The aptly named Monterey Canyon, one of the the largest deep underwater canyons in the world, begins just up a couple miles from the Aquarium, right off of Moss Landing.  It drops of rapidly from the shoreline, reaching a maximum depth of over 2 miles, although most of it averages about a mile underwater…about the same depth as the Grand Canyon (if it were submerged).

This allows scientists to explore a deep ocean canyon without have to travel. Some of their discoveries are on display in the Aquarium.

And if all that fish makes you hungry, the Aquarium is located at the west end of Cannery Row…plenty of seafood restaurants there, including the aforementioned Bubba Gump’s. Thank God I hate seafood. I would rather shoot them than eat them.

Postcard from San Jose

When I went to school at San Jose State, I hated this city…passionately. I swore when I graduated, I would leave immediately. And that is exactly what I did.

Oh yes, it did have its highlights…The House of Pizza for the best pizza on the planet…a steakhouse whose name I forget, where the skinny little chef would stand in the middle of the restaurant and BBQ your steaks over an open fire…while sipping on a large quantity of highballs.

Then there was Henry’s Hamburgers, a block away from my dorm that served decent 19 cent hamburgers…until they were shut down for serving horsemeat. But it was good horsemeat. I am still not sure whether I was sick more times from Henry’s or the college cafeteria. Maybe it was the cheap wine and beer. Ah, the good old days.

I spent some small amount of time back in San Jose in July. Wow, has this city changed. I think they wiped out most of the old city I knew and started over. Of course, its been over 40 years since I lived there.

The San Jose of today is quite modern and reflects the fact it is located in Silicon Valley. Amazing what money can do. I like it a whole lot better than the old one.

Now we come to today’s mysterious, but artsy photograph. It is the interior of the San Jose City Council Chambers looking straight up toward the ceiling. It is one of those places where art happily merges with architecture.

The building is unusual, to say the least. It stands all by itself…many yards away from the modern City Hall Building…both are right next door to the San Jose State campus.  When seen from outside, it reminds me of a football, made of glass, that is partially stuck in the ground.

It is rumored it was designed to help seduce the 49ers to build their new stadium in Silicon Valley. It worked…the new stadium is being built, as we speak, only a few miles away.

If you are still trying to understand the photo, the glass rotunda casts its shadows onto four large cloth sheets that stretch almost completely across the inside of the structure. It make for a nice effect, don’t you think?

San Jose now proudly boasts that the city is, “The Capital of Silicon Valley.” And it just may be. But, Silicon Valley, as an entity, does not exist. But, it is a real place that encompasses the southern portion of the San Francisco Bay Area. But it is also a state of mind.

And it does produce big bucks, which means huge revenues for cities like San Jose. And big revenues can help you build modern government complexes…even ones that look like footballs. Go Niners!

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Postcard from Hearst Castle

If you were lucky enough to be invited for the weekend to Hearst Castle, there were four rules that had to be obeyed:

1. No telling of off-color jokes or using of bad language

2. No getting drunk

3. No eating in the bedrooms

4. Unmarried couples had to sleep in separate bedrooms

Of course we are talking about the 30’s and 40’s. Way back then, the double standard for men and women was scrupulously maintained…even in the master’s 3rd floor suite.

For much of his adult life, William Randolph Hearst had a mistress: film star Marion Davies. She was a beautiful woman and the couple were devoted to each other. If they could have married they would have…but Hearst was already married and his wife, being a good and devoted Catholic, refused to give him a divorce. Obviously this was before California’s no-fault divorce laws.

Mrs. Hearst never visited the castle, probably because Ms. Davies was a an ensconced fixture there. She was the lady of the house. It is said that they were only in the same room once…at some event in Los Angeles. The story is they never acknowledged the other’s existence. Figures.

It would have been fun if Mrs. Hearst would have shown up at the castle unannounced at least once. What would William do? But she never did, although she had every right to, according to the mores of the day.

But, true to the double standard (and in case she ever did show up), Hearst and Davies maintained separate bedrooms…even though they were right across the hall from each other. Since there is a dress on the bed in this photo, this is obviously Ms. Davies bedroom (although it could easily be mistaken for J. Edgar Hoover’s bedroom).

But when the lights when out at night at Hearst Castle, all was fair in love and war…if you get my drift. Ain’t love grand? But you damn well better not bring a ham sandwich into the bedroom for a late night snack.

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Postcard from Coulterville

It was a happy accident that I wound up here in Coulterville, CA…in the heart of the California Gold Country. My friend Susan and I were on our way to Yosemite to meet up with other friends for a long weekend.

We blissfully drove east along Highway 120 until we came to Priest Grade, a steep stretch of road that twists and turns its way up to higher elevations. A big sign said the road was closed. But fortunately, there was a detour…which took us south for a while…right into the town of Coulterville.

For the Gold Country, Coulterville is a boring name. This part of California is known for little towns and geographic locations with exotic names, usually selected by inebriated gold miners. Think I’m kidding? Here are a few examples:

You Bet, Yellow Jacket Mine, Smuggler Mine, Hangtown, Gold Hill, Poverty Hill, Rich Bar, Dutch Creek, Gold Run, Dutch Flat and Poorman Creek. Then there’s Grizzly Canyon, Rough and Ready, Jackass Creek, Humbug, Stringtown, Angel's Camp, Whiskey Creek, and Volcano. I know, drunk or sober, they thought these names were funny.

See why I think Coulterville is a boring name? The fact that it was once called Maxwell Creek doesn’t improve its image. Must not have been much drinking going on here back in the 1850’s.

Of course the folks that started the towns here had a unique name of their own. Gold was discovered in California in 1848. It wasn’t long before the secret was out and these wannabe gold miners poured into San Francisco in 1849 to head up into the hills.

This allowed them to call themselves 49ers…and while most people think they were named after the year, the truth is they stole the name from a small, relatively unknown, but rugged, football team that played their games in The City. The miners thought this was funny too.

But I digress.

While the name may be a bit mundane, Coulterville is a lovely little town of 201 people that really shines in the spring. Many of the buildings are from the 1850’s…its one of the last remaining unspoiled gold country towns (even the utilities are underground to help camera freaks like me).

The wisteria runs along the main street, from the Hotel Jeffrey to this assay office/antique store…and it was all in bloom this fine May day.

The Hotel Jeffrey was built in 1851, which explains why it was not called Wisteria Lodge. Too bad as Sherlock Holmes fans would flock there in droves.

But, there is also the wildly misnamed Magnolia Saloon and a Chinese store, Sun Sun Wo Co. And let me not forget Whistling Billy, an eight ton locomotive that brought ore down from the mines.

Such a lovely place to visit…but time was of the essence that day and we had to keep going meet our friend up in Yosemite Valley. Of course, that beautiful place had the great fortune not to be named by drunken miners. The native Americans who lived there called it “Awooni,” which in their language meant Big Mouth. They thought it was funny too.   

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Postcard from Hearst Castle

Presenting today, a poem by William Randolph Hearst (1863-1951). Today’s photo is of the Neptune Pool at Hearst Castle. FYI, the columns on the left are from ancient Rome.

The Song of the River

The snow melts on the mountain

And the water runs down to the spring,

And the spring in a turbulent fountain,

With a song of youth to sing,

Runs down to the riotous river,

And the river flows to the sea,

And the water again

Goes back in rain

To the hills where it used to be.

And I wonder if life’s deep mystery

Isn’t much like the rain and the snow

Returning through all eternity

To the places it used to know.

For life was born on the lofty heights

And flows in a laughing stream,

To the river below

Whose onward flow

Ends in a peaceful dream.

And so at last,

When our life has passed

And the river has run its course,

It again goes back,

O’er the selfsame track,

To the mountain which was its source.

So why prize life

Or why fear death,

Or dread what is to be?

The river ran

Its allotted span

Till it reached the silent sea.

Then the water harked back

To the mountain-top

To begin its course once more.

So we shall run

The course begun

Till we reach the silent shore.

Then revisit earth

In a pure rebirth

From the heart of the virgin snow.

So don’t ask why

We live or die,

Or whither, or when we go,

Or wonder about the mysteries

That only God may know.

William Randolph Hearst - 1941

Postcard from San Simeon

“In suggesting gifts: Money is appropriate, and one size fits all.” - William Randolph Hearst

Hearst Castle is the symbol of opulence run amok. But, you gotta love it! It’s beauty is beyond belief. Here, unlimited money magically became beauty. Art in every flavor abounds here, yet it is all so tasteful…well mostly. 

There is nothing like it anywhere else in the world. Yet, here it is. It could never be duplicated in this day and age. Perhaps that is a good thing.

This was my first trip to Castle Moneystein…aka: La Cuesta Encantada, even though I lived in California much of my life. It is a bit out of the way. It’s north of San Luis Obispo and south of Monterey. The only way to get there is via the twists and turns of California Highway One.

But here’s a dirty little secret…go north from San Luis Obispo to visit the castle. The twist and turns are mostly north of San Simeon. It’s a pretty straight shot from the south. Of course, when it was built, there was no Highway One. You figure it out.

And, by the way, you don’t drive to the castle. Rather, you park down below at the Visitor’s Center and take a bus up a twisty five-mile road to the top. Along the way up (and back), you get a recorded guided tour by Alex Trebek which is informative, although he does throw in an infomercial here and there. I’ll take Renaissance Art for $500, Alex. 

Upon landing, one is immediately blown away by the spectacular beauty of the place. Looking out, you see the Pacific Ocean far below…looking up, there are the two Spanish twin cathedral towers that would thrill the soul of Father Junipero Serra. And then there are the gardens. Wow!

And the tour has not even begun yet. I chose to take the Upstairs Suite Tour as it looked more interesting. These old legs had to negotiate 273 stairs, but damned if I didn’t do it….And that doesn’t count all the other stairs I took while exploring the grounds. Of course, all that exercise required a long nap before dinner. No long walk on the beach that night.

But, it was worth every step.

Pictured above is Hearst’s private study. I say private as it was off-limits to most of his guests. The only folks beside Hearst, and perhaps his mistress, Marion Davies (and I’m not even sure about her) were those men who ran his vast empire who were at the castle on business. It is up on the second floor near the library and Hearst’s bedroom.

I asked the tour guide if Hearst’s kids came in here to do their homework. He wasn’t sure. Today, desktop computers would be out of place here, but a properly cased iPad might be OK…although a Wi-Fi signal might be difficult to find. Life was so much simpler back then.

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Postcard from San Francisco

Sometimes I’m fascinated with my fascination of walking through my past. I don’t do it often, but when I do, I want to understand why.

So here I was again in one of my favorite cities in the world, San Francisco…which also happens to be my hometown. I was born and raised here.

My father was born and raised here.

My grandmother was born and raised here.

My grandfather was born in Walla Walla, WA…but he had the good sense to move here, then marry my grandmother. The City took him to its bosom.

Oh, and lest I forget my own mother…she moved to San Francisco right off an Oregon farm…so The City adopted her also, even before she married a native.

So you see, I have every right to call The City my hometown. PS: It’s called “The City” by everyone who lives in and around San Francisco…and that means millions of folks. Wanderers like me who leave San Francisco still call it The City because it is THE CITY. There is no other.

And if a native ever hears you refer to it as San Fran or, God forbid, Frisco, be prepared to have your throat cut. It’s THE CITY. Get used to it.

Back in the late 40’s and 50’s, when my mother had a hankering to visit her family back on the farm, we needed to get from San Francisco to Oakland to catch Southern Pacific’s Shasta Daylight train (now that was a great ride).

The best way then, if you wanted to leave your car at home, was to take a ferry boat across San Francisco Bay. This trip began at the Ferry Building at the water’s edge on what is known as the Embarcadero. As a young boy, it was the only time I ever sailed on a ship (OK it’s a boat). 

My father would take me by the hand through the Ferry Building, purchase our tickets, then lead me out to the docks and on to the ferry boat. How well I remember, standing outside on the bow feeling the wind as I watched The City shrink from view. Seeing The City from The Bay…now that was a sight!

Over the years, I’ve been around the Embarcadero and the Ferry Building many times, but this was the first time since I was a child that I ventured inside. It was nothing like I remembered…probably because it was renovated in 2003. Probably a good thing since it has been there since 1898 and has survived numerous earthquakes.    

The lower floor, once a baggage area, is now an upscale gourmet marketplace, while the upper floors were adapted for offices. Too bad it wasn’t like that when I was a kid…would have loved to board the ferry with a Peet’s coffee in hand.

The ferries still run, although not the same ones from my childhood. Much more modern ones now. I know, because this time I did get a Peet’s coffee and sat out on the docks, resting my weary legs and watching the commuters make their way on to their respective ships (sorry, boats).

So, what did I get from visiting this part of my past? Not much, really. Most of the memories of those days are listed above. Did I feel the ghosts of my parents walking with me? Nope, sorry. It was just another place from my past. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to be there. I do love most all things San Francisco. Did I mention it is my hometown?

 

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Postcard from Monterey

Monterey is an acquaintance. It’s not a friend, like San Francisco, or Chicago or Tucson. It’s just an acquaintance…and maybe just a passing one at that. I doubt we could ever be friends, but I like it all the same…just not that much.

Its been many years since my last visit. Much has changed, much has stayed the same, with just perhaps a hint of change.  It seems to me that the downtown wharf used to have more fishing boats in harbor. Now, it’s a haven for toys-for-the-rich (or for those folks who hang out with the rich, but are, in reality, up to their derriere in debt). But, it made for a nice walk for me and my camera.

At one time, Monterey wanted to become a big city with nice new shiny brick buildings. They wanted to tear out all those old buildings along the harbor. But, then they found that tourists like those old buildings. So where once Japanese women beat abalone steaks to make them tender, there are cutesy chain restaurants with even cuter names like Bubba Gump's.  

So, yes, Monterey is a big-time tourist town…and I guess at my advanced age, I’ve seen all the tourist traps in all the towns and they all look alike to me…none offer anything of value. Been there…done that.

But, lest you think I am an old curmudgeon and didn’t find anything good in Monterey, there were a few saving graces. The aquarium was wonderful and well worth a visit (but it may be awhile before I go to another aquarium again…I am fished out).

My hotel room had a gas-fired fireplace. Now, I don’t see many fireplaces down here in the Sonoran desert. So, it was enjoyable to fire it up when the fog came in. Too bad it was in the back corner of the room where one could not really enjoy it. Still…

I also found a wonderful large Starbucks downtown near the wharf that had a delightful patio just perfect for sitting in the sun, drinking coffee, reading, and watching the world go by. There aren’t many Starbucks that can say that.

The best discovery of all was the Crown and Anchor, a downtown British pub that actually seemed like a British pub (Sorry, but so-called British pubs in strip malls don’t count). A great selection of British beers and some excellent pub fare food.

After a couple of beers (the knowledgeable barman let me taste them before my selections), I ordered Nelson’s Cottage Pie…ground beef, vegetables, and onions cooked in a rich spicy sauce, topped with mashed potatoes and baked in the oven until golden brown. Wonderful. Now that was a great evening. Finding the Crown and Anchor was like going to a party filled with acquaintances and discovering one true friend.  

 

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Postcard from Tucson

I showed this photo nearly two years ago…but back then it was in color and pretty much how it came out of the camera. The other day, I was again fooling around with filters and plug-ins in Photoshop and for reasons still unclear to me, was playing with this photo.

As happens, sometime you hit on something magic (or so it seems to me) and your say to yourself, “That’s it!!”. So it was with the photo you see before you. I titled the photo, “Almost a Cartoon,” as that was my immediate impression. It has a surrealistic effect, especially with the people. Maybe that is why I like it.

The picture was taken at our semi-annual 4th Ave. Street Fair. I say semi-annual as it happens in the fall and in the spring. It is a very popular event as thousands of people wander up and down the street gazing at the merchant’s wares. And there are between 400-500 exhibiters there for each show.

The festival is going to be interesting from here on in. Right now part of 4th Ave is completely torn up as they are installing steel rails for our new light rail system. Part of 4th Ave. is already completed (as a matter of fact, many streets are ripped up right now including the downtown area and the UofA). I am not sure how the festival will be set up as there are rails going up each side of the street.  So it should be interesting. However, I have no idea how the trolleys will run with all the people roaming the streets. But they say the show will go on. Good for them.

Postcard from San Francisco

This photo shows the front entrance to the Federal Reserve Bank on Market Street, near the Embarcadero. In fact, the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco is for the twelfth district in the United States and represents 9 western states and some American held islands in the Pacific.

The building was designed by George W. Kelham,. This entrance is is described as being an Ionic colonnade that is pure Beaux-Arts. The upper part of the building is in the new “Moderne” fashion of 1924. Whatever you call it, it makes for an interesting photographic composition.

I gave it an almost-but-not-quite black and white treatment. It was fun experimenting with different filters before settling on this final image. The figures inside give you a feeling for its size and depth. I used a longer lens that compressed the distance between the columns just enough to make it interesting.

I would have liked to explore this building a little longer, but I was walking to AT&T Park to see a Giants game, and was running a little behind schedule. Vacations can be so demanding on one’s time.

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Postcard from Silicon Valley

There is always at least one surprise when I take one of my trips. On this last adventure, one of the big surprises was finding the The Computer History Museum in Mountain View. Of course, it makes perfect sense that such a museum would exist in the heart of Silicon Valley, but that fact does not make the surprise any less fun.

Located in a new, modern building next to Moffat Field Air Base, the museum was obviously built with a plan in mind. By that, I mean the layout of the museum was carefully created as a walk through history. After watching a short introductory film, you follow a winding path through various rooms beginning with the earliest form of computers. As you follow the arrows on the floor, you move forward in time, eventually coming to today…and the future. As the sign says when you enter, this museum celebrates the first 2,000 years of computing.

In the first room, you find the earliest tools used for computing including the abacus. There is a short film there showing how to use one (I still don’t get it). In every room there are TV’s showing films about the various computing devices on display.

In the room that shows artifacts from World War II, there is an authentic German Enigma machine. This machine encoded messages from the German High Command to commanders in the field. The Germans thought the codes unbreakable, but the Allies broke the codes early in the war.

In other rooms you see the giant IBM 360 machines, the first optical drive, the first Cray Supercomputer and more…far too much to describe here. As you move forward in time, one eventually comes upon the first personal computers, which is where I stepped into the computing world. They had almost all of the earliest personal computers there, from the Apple 1 to the PET, the TSR, Commodore 64 and many more.

From here on was familiar territory as each room showed hardware and software from the 80’s until now. There was a room set aside for hand held devices (including phones), the history of games (Pong, anyone?), software, and later, the history of networking and the Internet. The last room is set aside for a film about the future, featuring some of the giants of the industry and their predictions.

The photo here is a semi-arch formed by replicas of software boxes. I thought it made a good photograph and was representative of the museum. Obviously it was from the Software section of the museum.

Besides the museum, I saw several home offices of some the major technology companies headquartered in Silicon Valley…including Apple, Yahoo, IBM, Cisco, Oracle and many others. I also got to see the new 49er football stadium under construction in the heart of Silicon Valley. It was quite a journey. 

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Postcard from San Jose

Isn’t it ironic that during this year’s Olympics I went to visit my Alma Mater, San Jose State University, and came across this sculpture. It shows, of course, that famous moment at the 1968 Olympics when Tommy Smith and John Carlos raised their black-gloved fists in the Black Power salute on the medal stand while the National Anthem was playing. That brought back a few memories.

You see, both Smith and Carlos were at San Jose State the same time as me. In fact, I knew Tommy Smith (only slightly) as he lived in the same dorm as me. I have no memory of ever meeting Carlos.  At the time, both athletes took a lot of heat for what they did. I remember being disturbed when it happened…I was torn because they were San Jose State students and I was rooting hard for their success…but was not happy that they chose the Olympic games for their protest. I am OK with it now, not that it matters.

But, time heals all wounds and both athletes have been praised in these later years for their act of courage.  In 2008, they jointly accepted the Arthur Ashe Award for Courage for their salute, at the 2008 ESPY Awards. By the way, in 1966, Smith set the world record for 200 meter sprint…a record that stood for 44 years until 2010.

This sculpture, done by political artist Rigo 23, dates back to 2005. The third athlete on the stand with them that day, Peter Norman, is not part of the sculpture. The space where he was is empty. The building in the background is the School of Journalism where I spend countless hours learning the journalism craft. Talk about memories…

It was fun to visit the old campus again and see all the changes. Of course, there are several buildings from my time there still in existence, but I estimate that 70% of the campus has changed for the better since I left.

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Postcard from Morro Bay

You are looking at my one and only decent photo of a beach sunset on this last vacation. I spent four nights on the California Coast, from Morro Bay to Monterey. And this was the only night (and day for that matter) that the ocean wasn’t shrouded in fog.

After two nights in Morro Bay, I drove all the way to Monterey along California’s beautiful Highway One and never saw the ocean. It was fog, fog, fog, the whole way. I eventually got out of the fog around Big Sur, but only when I was inland from the ocean. As soon as the road led me back to the coast, there was the fog again. Oh well…sometimes that is just how it is.

But back to this photo. I spent part of this day scouting locations for a great sunset shot, only to discover that the beaches around Morro Bay were not photographer friendly. Oh, they are lovely and beachcombers do love them, but it is miles and miles of endless beach with no other elements to make a great shot at sunset.

I take that back…I did find a few elements that might make an interesting photo, but those locations were blocked off any kind of access. I also found a good location to photograph the famous Morro Rock with some rolling sand dunes in front, but as sunset approached, I realized the light was all wrong and the giant rock was not going to get any sunset light.

Still I persevered and wandered along the beach looking for something interesting. Finally, I saw some surfers walking along the beach, heading home after a day riding the waves. I got lucky and managed to get this one shot that included them and the setting sun. On this day, I took whatever I could get…and I think it turned out OK.

If there is a lesson here, it is never give up when looking for that one good photograph. Sometimes it just comes out of the blue and you grab it while you can. Oh wait, there is another lesson…try to avoid photo expeditions to the Central California beaches in the summer months.

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Postcard from Monterey

Hey…I’m back. After a fantastic month-long vacation, mostly in Northern California, I’m back in Tucson, just in time to enjoy the monsoons and all the hot and humid weather. But it is my home now and I love it.

I got lucky on my trip as I spent the majority of my time in fantastic weather. I did a lot, visiting friends and family, seeing sites, both familiar and new…and met some interesting new people along the way.  The only disappointment was the drive up the California Coast along Highway One. Sadly, the ocean was covered in fog the entire trip, so no photo ops there. But, I did get some new photos which I will share with you over time, along with some interesting (I hope) stories.

Today, we begin with a photo from my visit to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Located right next to the famous Cannery Row, this aquarium offers some interesting and spectacular displays. But, my favorite section by far, was the jellyfish section. Called, “The Jellies Experience”, it features many different kinds of jellyfish, from the small to the large, and from the harmless to the deadly. It alone is worth the price of admission.

As you might guess, these jellyfish are of the smaller variety. But their colors and movement are captivating. One could spent some time here just watching and enjoying their gentle movements. You will see more jellyfish photos in the future as well as other photos from the aquarium. If you get the chance to visit Monterey, be sure and add this place to your itinerary.

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Postcard from San Francisco

San Francisco was my first home town. I was born and raised there and spent most of my childhood in and around The City. I lived first in the famous Haight-Ashbury District…long before the hippies took over. It was near the old Kezar Stadium where my beloved 49ers played their games, long before the NFL was popular and players had to take jobs in the off-season to make ends meet.

I was there in ‘58 when the Giants moved from New York. Before them, there was the San Francisco Seals who played in the long-gone Seals Stadium. Then there was the Cow Palace on the southern edge of The City where I spent many nights watching hockey.

But, of course, there is more to San Francisco than sports. I spent many hours walking up and down Market Street. I took cable cars from downtown on Powell Street all the way to Fisherman’s Wharf. And I’ve walked the Embarcadero all the way from Fisherman’s Wharf to the Ferry Building at the end of market street. In the 50’s I took many a ferry ride from there over to Oakland and back.

And I’ve walked most of the hills. From Nob Hill down California Street and more. I’ve explored Chinatown many times and frequented the jazz clubs at North Beach where I saw many of the jazz legends of bygone days.

Yes San Francisco was and is my home…if not in body, definitely in my heart. It is one of the great cities of the world and I am privileged to have spent part of my life there.

I tell you this because I am on my way back there, beginning tomorrow. No, I am not moving, I am just going there for a nice vacation. What better area to cool off after the hot muggy summers we experience in Tucson. And the good news is that I have close friends and family who live in and around San Francisco. I look forward to seeing all of them.

So, that is to say, you probably won’t hear much from me for a while…perhaps the occasional photograph and quick blurb. I am taking the long way to northern California, going up Highway 1 along the ocean, beginning at San Luis Obispo, with a stop along the coast here and there to photograph. I also plan to stop at Hearst Castle to see what all the fuss is about.

But I will be back in August full time with a whole new arsenal of photographs and stories to share with you. So, until then, Ciao for now.

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Postcard from Oakland

This is another one of my architectural photos done in downtown Oakland last year. I really got lucky with the light, and, especially the clouds. The horizontal and vertical lines really add a couple of interesting elements to the photo…but the real story is the cloud reflections. It is like an impressionist painting…and to be honest, I did nothing to the cloud reflections to give them that look.

What I did do, thanks to the magic of Lightroom, was change the horizontal and vertical alignments. It appears as if I was up high photographing this image across the street. In reality, I was on the ground shooting upwards. A little manipulation and it appears I am on the same level as the windows. Pretty neat trick, eh?

I love shooting in large cities and on my next photo expedition (which starts at the end of this week) I hope to spend more time with my camera in some of my favorite cities. Plus, I hope to do a little shooting on the Pacific Ocean coastline, something I haven’t done in a long while. The ocean shores seem very attractive to me right now, as sit in 105-110 temperatures every day.

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Postcard from Tucson

Here is another image from a trip I made to our local Pima Air and Space Museum. I took it as an artistic exercise and like how it turned out. I do not remember what kind of aircraft this engine is on, but obviously it is a single engine aircraft, probably used in reconnaissance during WWII. I just like the way it looked and the detail visible on the engine...and of course, the colors.

I’ve already talked about the museum in other blogs so won’t repeat myself again. What I will do is reprint the most famous poem ever written about flying. I always think of it when around airplanes.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or even eagle flew -

And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod

The high untresspassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941

 

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