Tippy toe

Man is destined to search. And for varied reasons. Like a ballet dancer, this man tippy-toed if only to make the move more poetic. After all, life is what we make it.

The pretty weed

Who said you have to be "somebody" to stand out? And who said you're not attractive if you're a weed? This weed has bloomed, and buds are sprouting. I was going to de-weed the backyard when this "weed" caught my attention. Instead, I took out my camera and captured its beauty and elegance. It wasn't cultivated to come out this pretty, yet it percolates your senses: sight and touch. In life, we tend to ignore the lowly and small. Yet we forget that the grand things in life could be hiding behind our backs. Pretty weed, isn't it?

Where to?

Like a swan, one can glide through traffic with ease and grace. But its webbed feet get caught in a fishing net, there is a loss of freedom. And the water seems to be at a standstill, until a movement is executed and the concentric circles get wider, like spreading the news. What good is a bicycle when it's tied to a post. Then again, with its grace "frozen" like this, one can only admire its skeletal frame so meticulously designed for people to enjoy. Let's ride!

Spread your wings and fly

What it boils down to is how graceful your flight is. Didn't matter what altitude you're flying into. The smell of the sea water makes your mind wonder why the seemingly unreachable skies merely reflects what's down here. Look at the waves: don't they resemble the clouds at times?

Heavy on the nuts

The sky was clear. So smooth, so serene. Not even a breeze--and the day smelled like Saturday. Around lunch time, I can see the competition of nearby eateries, vying for that special clientele to step in. The waitresses swayed to and fro--a rather inviting gesture to bring in customers. Hey, drinks anyone?

Tree on the sidewalk

This is Pasadena, California--right across the street from a fine Thai restaurant. Thought I'd share this photo that I snapped earlier this afternoon while dining there with friends and relatives.

Fly me

... to the moon and let me play among the stars. (1/1000 sec. at f5.6 with Nikon D70s using Nikkor 70-300mm lens)

A Poem

THE PAINTER'S BRUSH

scattered clouds, boasting
with pride one can't really feel
the periods of the mind that allow
us to crave for that certain smile
are but lost without wonder.
i still see the sky as an artist's
palette--one that allows a mixture
of colors
to unite as one.
i believe in the magic of the brush
as you perform the mystic abundance
of heartfelt gestures
one can only dream of.
more of everything isn't good
but the few sips of freedom we have
justifies the climactic overtures of
your laughter.
i long for the sun to set before us
telling tales we dreamed upon
and perhaps the sky will again come out
with a rendering only you and i could
interpret.

1.29.06

$9.99

Headless mannequins seem to scream out their "wares" at $9.99 each. I loved their stance--a la Sunset Boulevard!

Want some?

Front yard?

The elegant Victorian house in the background has been around for more than a century. And so are the fields that are now planted with vegetables for future harvesting. Note the very tall trees around the residential lot. The mountains in the background are the Topa-Topa mountains of Ojai (California). If you look closely, on top of the nearer mountain range are the same two trees shown on the upper photo.

Mystic Abundance

As the sun hides behind the clouds, I know I am
Still the same but without mantra
And as quick as a wink I leave behind
Another day well-spent with a smile
Longing to hold you still--
Learning from you that I
Can always make it more fun
To see the sun so sublime.

In your hands I see a camera
Deep within your soul there's an uproar
Of sweetness and love so fine
Would I be chosen
And get invited to the panorama
That your love bestows?


1.25.06

Vanishing gondolier

I took a picture of the above scene at a slow speed (1/2.5 second), f20. Then turned the lens to make the picture go "farther"... thus creating this effect.

Time passages

But you're all alone
In these time passages
I know you're in there
You're just out of sight
Oh, time passages
Buy me a ticket
On the last train home tonight.

Rock hard

I looked at it again.

The rock has cradled the waves

in its womb.

Beneath its structure,

the soft and gentle memories

of life has its roots

beyond the pages of time.

The afternoon has since silenced

the seas, and the sun has vowed

to leave once more.

I looked at it again.

Will it ever look at me

again, as well?

Among the flowers

Guess you didn't like the answers that were muttered. If the last of you have been heard, please remember that the love you felt is true. Maybe it's more than difficult to put down in words how wonderful life is when you're around.

When the last trumpet has growled among the flowers
The sun never lifted the clouds if only to dream another dream
Closing the door is not the end of the dream.
Let the rains come, and the silent thunder just won't let me hear
The echoes of laughter that were never heard.
Loving someone: can it be understood any easier?

Almost there

Few hours earlier there was a good amount of rain. Although it didn't keep me indoors, I decided to stay home and read. Then just as I was about to go out, I noticed how the sky was changing--from overcast to clearing up. Rushing out with a camera, I took several shots of the sky only to find out that a low-flying bird was in my viewfinder.

I snapped it. And I would like to share it with you.

AMBIVALENT CLOUDS

Like an artist's working floor, different colors mingle with each other as if insinuating another idea of an art design. Here, the clouds don't seem to make a pattern--and like the weather, it could rain. Or shine.

Raining today

The predicted rain (60% chance) came. But without pomp and circumstance. Gentle drizzle it was. Enough water to wash away the dirt on pavements, and give enough shine to reflect an almost leafless tree.

WAVIN' GOODBYE?

Have you ever stared at a single wave as it comes towards the shore? You focus on it as it rushes towards you. And as it reaches your bare feet you feel its caress--its life-giving worth, its enormous magnetism as it ebbs and flows from over yonder. You'll soon notice that it makes a sound. Something that qualifies as a screaming silence. Only because it quiets down as quick as it roared. Then it's eventually gone, its sound muffled. You feel its immediate absence--that which puts a dart in your heart. Something you don't feel until you're just as numb as a tree trunk. Then you realize its playful approach, its seemingly endless touch, and the awakening it bears with it as it once again feels you. Have you seen a wave waving goodbye?

I have. Yes, I have.

MACH 2?

IT WAS HALLOWEEN night and as I sat in my car at a parking lot, I SAW THIS! What could it be? A "fast-moving" trick-or-treat'er?