And...I'm back!

After a year hiatus from word one...I decided (and had a little external pressure) to come back to the web to show what I've been up to.


I did get my name in print (the new phone book's here! the new phone book's here!) in the Oakland magazine, accompanied by a photo I took for class over a year ago. It's the first time I've been published so it's kind of exciting.

I almost got my act together for a show this Friday, however, due to technical difficulties, and limited time, I was not able to pull it off. The theme was recycling, and tying into how west Oakland has a lot of up and coming artists who utilize recyclable materials. Here are the images I would've put on walls in frames (and might still, just not this Friday):

I think the first principle about recycling is reducing, and then following that is reusing. I would say that ninety percent of what I own is from craigslist, garage sales or thrift stores. I buy very little new items if I can help it. I try to think of the cost-added value of stuff. All the hands that went into making it, all the petroleum and machinery for production and delivery, the hands that package it, and deliver it, sell it. It's overwhelming to think of even the path of a toothbrush that you buy, and how in the end it is contributing to the growing landfills. I even have a disposable toothbrush head!

I bring my camera with me to garage sales, as I find it is culturally interesting what people are ready to part with for a little pocket change. A lot of people are trying to actually pare down their belongings, and others are throwing out the old so that they can get the latest, baddest, newest gadget or thing-a-ma-bob. I usually shop for things that are practical, that I have an actual use for immediately. I am attracted to things that sparkle and are aesthetically pleasing to the eye, however, I don't always need those, and thus, I am more inclined to just take photos. In fact, I'm ready to just take photos of most things I own that no longer serve an immediate purpose/need and then have my own garage sale, or even just donate to the thrift stores. Having recently moved, it reminds me of how much stuff I actually own, and what a pain in the ass it is to move it from one place to another, even if I just moved next door.

The rest of the stuff I own is recycled creative supplies, whether it's fabric, paper, coins, sequins, ribbons...I am crafty and like to create recycled art.

Here were the images that didn't make the cut:

Happy (Chinese) New Year!

I realize that time has been my arch-enemy of late, and it's like watching water down a drain...not sure where the water goes, but I know it eventually evaporates.

If anything, my visions have just been honing themselves, as I've tried photographing high-end knives:

And that is just one big learning curve. I have always loved a challenge, and I like pulling my hair, but not one by one over a crazy amount of time. I'm not sure if I got the job, but I now have chest hair! Lighting shiny metal objects is one thing, but when you also need to capture the detail on the blade, and also show off the blade's edge, and not catch any other reflections, then we're talking about a something other than snapshots. For anyone who wants the dirt on the details: I used a foam core box that I created (least expensive light tent) out of those white tri-fold foam core presentation boards, and added a white foam core top and bottom. I used a hotlight on a boom arm, pointed at the ceiling of the box, and then held another smaller piece of foam core, wrapped in a light gray (to bring out the blade's details). I had to hold the gray board just right, so that it wouldn't cover the blade's edge, and so that could be highlighted.

 I've taken a few trips out with the camera, but mainly, I've gotten one of those prized "iPhones" that people will beat you up to own. They definitely live up to the hype in a lot of ways, but I think they should have an app for bringing breakfast in bed. Or finding your car, when you can't remember where you parked it!  I didn't think I'd become a cell phone photographer, and with such a wide angle and only 3MP, it's laughable, as the images are really only worthy of being posted online, or at best 4x6" images. Here's a few highlights:

 


I think quality is definitely something that can't be compromised when it comes to imagery, however, when you're trying to convey a moment, it could be blurry, grainy, distorted, or whathaveyou, and it wouldn't matter. Essence always trumps.

The digital age has made all of us a photographer. I'd like to think that all my studying has given me an edge, but I've seen some exquisite photography by people who have no concept of how light works through a little medium called a camera. Beauty always lies in the beholder, I say. It doesn't matter if you haven't harnessed the craft of an artform, if you're able to express it, in a way that moves someone, then it becomes art.

There is definitely something to be said for sharpness and high res images....where you can see every pore on someones skin (notice that those pores have been glossed over in Photoshop by the professionals who deal in fashion photography, or any images you see in magazine advertising!). I used to always love shooting black & white at 3200 ISO, because it created a dreamy graininess. I thought sharpness was overrated. I think that focus and detail are important to conveying your message.

Ah, well, time has again gotten the upper hand, and I must resume floating down the rushing river...thanks for visiting my mind and soul...

~Alicia

Dan & Dit

I met Dan & Dit both a couple of years ago outside under the fresh air of Tilden Park. They have both enriched my life in many ways. They asked me to be the photographer for their wedding, and I really was honored to be the ambassador for their love. I was the one who was blessed to witness such a beautiful ceremony and capture their memories.

Dan is a wonderful cook, and very caring and giving. He loves the outdoors (as does Dit). He has a positive outlook on living life, and seems to take it by the reigns.

Dit (Dierdre--apparently, Dit was a nickname that her mother gave her as a young child, but I never got the story of how it came about...) also shares a passion for life. She has a deep sense of spirituality, and works as a gardener. Nature seems to be a common thread that has woven their lives and love together.

It seems only apropos that they planned a handfasting ceremony to commemorate their passion for each other.  This ritual comes from Scotland, known as the Lughnasa festival, where the couple "ties the knot." In their case, their wedding party helped them tie the knot. They really had so many details that were so thought-filled and lended to the beauty of their love for each other. Dit is incredibly creative and had made her veil and the "broom" that they jumped over, symbolic of leaping into new adventures together.

Dan & Dit have an incredible community of friends and family who truly demonstrated their support and love for them, in all the hard work, and delicious food that was provided through potluck and BBQ. I was truly amazed at how everyone really lended to the day, despite the tremendous heat. I think the strength of their love, and the love from their community is testament to a long life together. I wish them the best, and feel such deep gratitude for getting the opportunity to commemorate this amazing day. Cheers!

guerrilla love, not gorilla love

recipe for fun:

guerrilla love, spiffy driver, eccentric photographer, san francisco, splendid friends, fog and sunshine.

= success.

They met on craigslist.com. I met Judy through a temp job, which turned permanent for me, (although a myriad of circumstance and insanity caused me to leave) and we got to be friends; the best thing that happened to me there. And I'll leave it at that. Over a million lunches together, and talks about our relationships, she ended up being my bridesmaid four years ago for my wedding. And now, exactly four years later, she and Brian are blazing new trails on the nuptial front, and she asked me to take some photos pre-wedding.

Brian is quite the grassroots industrialist, with a warehouse in Oakland full of projects, and an encyclopedia of knowledge of all things mechanical, engineered, electrical or otherwise. He and my husband play chess while Judy and I do retail therapy, or jump in pools at open houses together on 110-degree days.

Judy is a painter, a crafts guru, a seamstress, and downright one of the funniest people you'll ever meet. Brian is quite the wit, too. 'Round these parts, if you don't do funny...you just don't. I mean, don't bother entering the establishment. We only take funny 'round here.

I love Brian and Judy, and know that this wedding is going to be such a fabulous celebration of all things guerrilla, gorilla, eccentric, fiery, and otherwise. Cheers!

post script...if you ever feel like getting lots of attention in San Francisco, try dressing up as a bride and groom and promenade through lots of touristy areas like North Beach, the Embarcadero...you never know what you're going to get: drunks belligerently picking you up, people in wheelchairs humming that damned wedding song, and cars honking.

Pianos and Elephants

You may be wondering what they could possibly have in common? Well, I think they basically weigh the same, take up the same amount of space, can reach similar decibels, and are not easily relocated. I have a baby grand. It was given to me by my grandparents, when they moved out of their quasi-mansion to their retirement community home. The piano was moved about six blocks from their house to my parents', where it has resided since: for about 20 years.

Now, my grandparents have long been gone, and my parents have just moved to Weaverville, CA, which is fine, but of course, they want me to get the piano out of their Sebastopol, CA home. Natürlich. (Side note: just had to take a little trip into the "void"of Internetland to find out how to get an umlaut over the u; check out: how to get foreign accents) Pretty cool. Anyhow, as I was saying, the piano. I thought the universe had provided when I was told a woman would be interested in housing the piano in Sebastopol, until we were in a more financially sound and bigger place. Turns out, she's just interested in having it fill her room. So, she contacts a piano teacher friend of hers. Piano teacher turns out to know a single mom who is interested. She has a teen daughter who's taking lessons, and already has an upright. However, she stays with dad in Marin, who doesn't have a piano, so they might be able to do some swapping. I'm thinking that the universe has again just answered my concerns. The elephant will find her home.

Elephants don't like relocating. That's what I seem to be getting. Single mom backed out, as dad had bought a piano, and despite much effort on her part to come check out my piano, as it would provide a "fuller sound" for aforementioned teen, as well as provide an added point of interest to anyone's home (since when do elephants not draw attention to guests?!). My elephant needs some serious surgery: new pads, new hammers, and a major tune job (as in, $1200 - $1500 worth of work)...not to mention moving costs. Money neither I nor single mom are willing to fork out at this juncture in our lives. And so, the elephant still seeks a home.

Maybe I'll become a circus trainer...

Finding Center and Health

It's as easy as putting on your shoes and going. That's what I tell myself. But sometimes getting back into health and good shape takes patience and center. I had been waiting all week for all the accoutrements for my new bike to arrive from amazon.com, such as a comfortable seat. It arrived yesterday, and so today, having the day off, I decided to put all the pieces on my bike--all before my doctor's appointment at 10:30 in the a.m. Pschaw, riiiiiiight. I bought a basket to clip onto the bike rack, you know, the kind that collapses. It came with hardware--nuts and bolts--and thank goodness for grief, as my tool drawers are nice and organized from having to put my wonder dog, Chicca, down. So, finding the tools is half the battle, but then it takes an entirely different part of my brain, which I can channel, but not when I'm in multi-task mode.

So, having eaten, had a cup of coffee, I sat on the floor with the bike in the middle of the living room, as the Bay Area was deciding to have a foggy day again. (Surprise, surprise!) I knew that getting this basket on was the hinge to whether I would start biking today or not. After fits and starts, and feeling dextrously challenged, I finally managed to get the pieces to fit together, the threads to entertwine in the tiny metal pieces.

It's amazing to listen to the dialogue in my head trying to talk myself out of the ride. I needed to get to my doctor's appointment at Kaiser in Oakland, maybe 2.5 miles from my house, with a few hills in between. I knew that I could opt out of the hills, and just add more distance to the journey. Then, I couldn't find my headphones so that I could have some music to motivate the ride. And that was going to be the straw, but some inner strength crept out of nowhere, and basically, I was out the door, with basket packed: lunch, snacks, camera, purse. And off I went.

I conquered the hills. The long way seemed, well, long. And I had to be at Kaiser sooner than later. Sometimes, that convention of time is a really downer.

I had made an appointment to be in Alameda after the doctor's visit. Way on the southwest side of the island, a good 6.5 miles from Kaiser. Cruising through Oakland's industrial side leaves something to be desired. And the flat lighting really didn't strike any desire to stop to take any pictures. I really wish I had one of those pairs of glasses that you can snap pictures from. Or wish I could download all the "images" I've snapped in my minds' eye.

My appointment in Alameda was to finish a project that I've been working on for 2 years. It all began in Kyoto, when I was at Fushimi-Inari Shrine with my husband, Tony and my good friend Suzy. Before entering the vermillion tunnel of toriis, there was a vendor having the Japan equivalent of a garage or yard sale, except sans garage or yard. He had small Japanese antique bric-a-brac, and then some old kimonos, and two very gorgeous obis, you know, the ornate sashes that tie the kimonos together. I bought them each for 500 yen, basically, less than $5.00. A steal, really. I gave one to a friend, and then suggested that we make purses out of the two of them. The problem being, I decided to make my own pattern--which became a serious geometric nightmare to finish. Sometimes my brain just can't wrap itself around seam allowances and how pieces will come together. Thus, the project has sat in a plastic box in the shed, and most recently, under my bed.

My job is currently in Alameda, and I work for a family who moved in with grandma, as she had a massive stroke, becoming paralyzed on the left side. She is left-handed, and a quilter. So, I figured, she'd be able to help me finish it by giving me suggestions. And, she has this incredibly fancy sewing machine, it actually levitates by use of a remote control. I've never seen anything like it. Then again, I'm not much of a seamstress. I just like to sew. It turned out that grandma's quilting friend happened to show up as well, and gave me some good pointers, and saved me a lot of headache, like how to affix the strap portion onto the body of the purse. So, it's finished! It's far from perfect, but it is a reminder of beauty and shrines and center. I'll post a picture soon.

And by the time I left, it was 3:30 p.m. and the sun was shining. I got to ride through some of Oakland's more "colorful" neighborhoods. Fruitvale. I do wish I had taken some photos, as the juxtoposition of some of the cerulean blues against the backdrop of deep azur sky were really striking, as were the deep shadows of still being in full sun. Gotta love contrast. Like people with barred windows shining the mega-rims on their Esplanade SUV. It's a different planet sometimes than I'm from. Makes for interesting ruminations. Gratitude for the simpler things: my rose bush is blossoming, and hummingbirds are dancing in and out of the agapantha.

I made it home, sweaty and done. I think my total mile count was probably around 15. However, I didn't get to install my new speedometer until my good friend Michael came over, and helped me. So now, I'll be able to tell how many miles I've traveled, how many calories burned, and what the temperature was, and more things than I probably need, but it's a measuring stick. I like numbers and knowing random facts. Keeps my mind stimulated.

Doesn't take much to stimulate my mind, the opposite is what I need. Center. Om. Mu.

And then you meet people who break you out of center, like the guy sitting on his porch in his Oakland neighborhood, where Michael and I parked to go grab some Thai food.

He says in a seemingly curious tone, "Where are you going?"

I respond non-chalant, "Thai Food."

"Hiking?!" He seems not disgruntled, but rather dumbfounded that we would be going hiking.

Michael clarifies that we're going for dinner.

"Well, you're eschewing my parking space to go enjoy your dinner."

Michael said, "Well, it's a public street. Have a nice evening."

We heard him mutter something under his breath, to the effect, "Go enjoy your dinner with my curses."

e.e. cummings wrote:

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of deathhate you

I really send an envelope of compassion to this man, swinging on the porch at the cusp of twilight, my most magical time, when light marries dark, and I tip my hat.

the scroll

When I drive, the road is like a connect-the-dots for my thoughts. A road trip alone is merely an informal way to paint the canvases of my ideas. I took a trip "home" this weekend. Home has always and will always be Sebastopol, Sonoma County, California. I have had lots of homes, and I have planted many roots in this particular soil. My parents just moved away. Actually, dad still lingers during the week, and despite not really having the lily pad to land on anymore, I realize that the community I've built, as well as they have built, is fortress strong. I will always have people and places to visit. So, I made an impromptu sojourn to Sebastopol to visit with old friends, some who live in Europe and are home briefly during July.

The sky crossing the San Francisco Bay on the Richmond-San Rafael bridge turned dark and ominous, and actually opened into some precipitation, meanwhile the setting sun was blinding me. My mind was caught in a whirlwind of where home has gone now that my parents have moved away, after 30 years. Thirty years. That's a long time. That's most of my short life. The pavement continued to slide under me and the scenery became increasingly picturesque, taking me out of my ruminations and more focused on landscape's zen. Between Novato, and Petaluma is nothing but golden knolls, rolling towards the sky, dotted with gnarled hands of oaks and bovine grazing.

The sun had passed beyond the hills, but I noticed to the east a vibrant rainbow, with Maxfield Parish clouds. The rainbow lasted for over ten minutes, and it was as if every other driver on the road was oblivious to Life's mysterious beauty.

I had an experience similar to this when I was visiting Nepal. I had awoken suddenly at 6 a.m. in my guest house in Dhampus, near Pokhara. The Annapurna range, second in height to Everest, was apparently nearby, but in two weeks of visiting Nepal, I had not been able to even catch a glimpse of the majestic spires of granite due to it being rainy season. Yet, this particular morning, I awoke in a shuttered room in the guest house, pitch black, and for some reason, grabbed my camera and ran outside. I had barely made it out the door when I felt like I'd been hit by a stun gun. Before me was sun-splashed mountains, so breathtaking in grandeur, that I didn't even bother to check exposure, but hurried to snap some shots. No sooner had I taken a couple of frames, than the clouds had shut their curtains, the unveiling-of-the-world's-tallest-mountains show had finished its encore. And meanwhile, back at the ranch, the Nepalese were sweeping. An ordinary day.

I guess for me, the mundane is extraordinary. I did not stop my car for the rainbow. I felt compelled to keep going 70 miles an hour. Sometimes, I choose to let my mind be my camera. I realize that sometimes, painting with words, oils or watercolors instead of 35mm is warranted. Someday, I will be able to hook up a USB cable and be able to share these images trapped in my head: the monkeys in Thailand, the rainbows of Petaluma, the dancing children...until then, find them on the page, and imagine with me.