Mulling in Multnomah County

It's funny how I ended up taking zero pictures of the city even though I was really excited to photograph Portland. The pressure to look like a native instead of like a tourist was overwhelming (so many hipsters!), I guess, but that's unusual for me. I guess it was that and the fact that I was in bed sick for a whole day of the trip. That is how trips go, I suppose!



And now back to working on my senior project. Here's the abstract for it (awkwardly in present tense even though it's not done yet; story subject to change without notice!):

“Blinds” uses poetry and short prose to explore the relationship of a pair of lovers, one whimsical, one practical, who, because of the outside world’s demands on their time, are rarely together. Their interactions are complicated by a large rainstorm raging outside which threatens to flood their home. The setting is limited to the bedroom, of which the focal point is the titular blinds over the room’s single window, the patterns of light and shadow that they project into the room and the thoughts that the couple projects onto them. The confusion of the worlds within and without the room permeates the dreams of the characters, and they come to understand each other and society through these dreams.

The form of the piece is unique. It consists essentially of two parts: the central short story of the pair of lovers above and a series of poems, prose poems, and flash fiction pieces that tell the couple’s dreams. Together the two parts will form a sort of frame story in which the telling of dreams and real life will alternate. As the story progresses, the characters increasingly incorporate into their waking life themes and ideas from their imaginings until all or nearly all of their interactions with the ‘real’ world are illuminated by their dreams.

This project is inspired by several fiction traditions, including magical realism, folklore and myth, and paranoid and speculative fiction. The project places these elements in a modern context and updates them for a post-9/11, digital, and ever-idealistically-divided world. To reinterpret Mexican literary critic Luis Leal, “Blinds” not only “suggest[s] the magical in our world,” but also suggests the magical in our world as an alternative to the black and white thinking that threatens society.

Light and dark.

I think it's interesting how light and darkness dance sometimes. How one step finds them in a passionate tango, and in the next step, the one has swooshed in and killed the other. Then you take two steps back, and you suddenly see that they were working together the whole time, that they had this all planned out. And that's when you either take a few pictures while thanking your kick-ass anti-shake lens, or you realize that you just regurgitated the plot of the last Harry Potter movie.

Neither here nor There.

Driving between Helena and Bozeman this summer, I've begun to feel like I'm cruising the main highway of the Twilight Zone. Don't get me wrong - I've yet to see a sentient ventriloquist dummy or become slave to a fortune-telling machine. It's just that, no matter the time of day or direction of travel, every trip I take is full of incredible, thought-provoking vistas that redefine the word "beautiful" with each mile. With clouds and mountains, fields and blackbirds, prickly pears and faraway rains, the landscape reinvents itself over and over.

But it's problematic. You see, there are at least 60 little white crosses between Helena and the interstate, a distance of almost exactly 65 miles. That makes US 287 one deadly little road. There are plenty of reasons: it's a busy two-lane with no shoulders that caters to slow-moving agricultural equipment, boats, and semis, after all. Seems reasonable enough. But does it really explain the little flocks of crosses that fly by my side?

I have my own theory about them: sometimes there are places too beautiful for people to survive.

Votivation

It's actually creepy how much this matches the new blog colors.


These two are in Helena, while the rest were taken last night while walking around in Bozeman with Ian. It's not the friendliest of towns, as we found out. One guy yelled at me for taking pictures of his porch. A few days ago, Ian was threatened by some dude in a truck. People in the grocery store mostly stare indignantly at me. Things didn't go well for this former GOP office, either.


Just look at that hoodlum.


Something makes me think this wasn't a sign of gang activity, though. It was in nice-ish neighborhood. Maybe someone got tired of their exercise regimen.


There was happiness in the details though. Bob's Burgers' barstools were festive!


And someone, somewhere in Bozeman, pays attention the the small things, too. Some unknown traveller had stuck this feather in a light fixture downtown.


Perhaps if Bozemanians (Bozemanites? Bozos?) cared a little more about the uplifting things (get it? it's a feather? oh, man.), they wouldn't have to spend so much time being angry at people taking pictures or biking or shopping.


Perhaps one day we'll be able to thank the feather-placer for his or her light of guidance in the darkness.

The Adventures of Lonely Tree

Driving back and forth between Helena and Bozeman, I have learned that I can depend on a certain lonely tree to grab my attention. It's stuck out in the middle of a field, all alone - not even a stray cow to keep it company. Each time I go past, I want to stop and go see it, take pictures of it, bake it casseroles, send it Christmas cards, make it less lonely.


On Sunday night, I was driving my beloved back to his lair in Bozeman when we spotted the tree once more. He saw my wistful look, and, noting the camera in my bag and the fact that we weren't on a schedule, suggested that we pull over. Boy, is he nice or what?


We pulled off the highway and wandered back to the tree. It wasn't so lonely! It had a rainbow for a friend.


Ian found a friend, too.


We couldn't get much closer to the lonely tree, but that was okay.


We took a few more pictures,


said goodbye to our friends,


and headed on our way.

Who loves this picture? I do!

I was doing some research on a paper when I ran across this gem. "Gay rights advocate Matthew Arnold-Lloyd of Albany, N.Y., right, meets nose to nose with an unidentified man opposed to gay marriage during a rally outside the Capitol in Albany, Tuesday, April 28, 2009. Gay rights advocates want the Legislature to approve legislation to legalize gay marriage in New York" reads the AP byline. 'Cause how better to show how much you dislike gays and gay rights than going nose-to-nose with a member of the same sex as if going in for a passionate kiss? Priceless.

Photo by Mike Groll.

I always fall in love with an open door

Here's Ra Ra Riot!, one of the bands that opened for Death Cab Friday night. The other was The Cold War Kids, who were okay, but not quite my style. This Ra Ra Riot song ("Ghost Under Rocks"), however, is quite deliciously awesome – these guys were very intense. I knew it would be a good set when I saw the electric cello and violin! Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of Ra Ra Riot! We were too scared that Security would come confiscate the camera because they had stopped us at the gates already - the Canon Rebel apparently looks too 'professional.' Are you professional? Well, no, Batman, I'm not.

After a while, though, we got more gutsy. I got a few shots of The Cold War Kids, whose bassist (center), without a doubt, was on drugs. My guess was coke, but who knows? Don't be fooled by his halo (full-size image if you click):


The CWK played a long (too long) set, then came the disgustingly long wait for Death Cab. After a few decades, they emerged. They played! Music! With instruments! And voices! We were waaay too far away for my taste, but that was okay. It was Death Cab For friggin' Cutie, and there's no complaining about that. I think this was the first time I'd ever even seen how they play live - I haven't ever watched any live videos of them, even. For me, DCFC falls into this strange category of being a band so perfect that they're possibly actually immortal. Before this, I only vaguely knew what they looked like because I felt that associating the music with faces and names would almost cheapen it; when I found out that one of the members of The Shins was abusive of his long-time girlfriend, it made me a little sick. I knew Ben by sight, and a little about his life, and that's about it. I don't even imagine him singing when I listen to the music. I'm not sure how to explain it. They have such perfect music that I can't associate it with actual people. So you can see how this concert was a bit surreal for me.

As a continuance of the surreality, Ben Gibbard (lead singer), the only person in the band I knew, was all skinny-like and had chin-length hair, which was weird, because the last pictures I had seen of him had been adorable Plans-era chubby Ben. Perhaps he is losing weight for his wedding to Zooey Deschanel? I love you Ian, but I have sooooooo much jealousy for Zooey. You do understand, I hope, that this is DCFC we're talking about. His voice was still nice, though, so I forgive him for the hair and the skinny.

And so, without further ado, the pictures:


Guitarist Chris Walla was the most popular subject of our photos for the express reason that he was closest. Also, the Martinez sisters (Angel and Amanda, our German-Mexican companions on the trip) really like him.


Soooooo far away.

The dudes:

Blood and eggnog are a natural mix, I think.

So. My friend Nik's boyfriend, Austin, accidentally let it slip that he had seen the movie Twilight. First mistake. Now, whether or not it's true, we tease him for liking that particular affront to feminism and literature. Then Austin trusts us when we tell him that we want to take his picture for these "Christmas pictures" we do every year with all the friends. Second mistake. So he goes happily along to have his picture taken alone, then with his boyfriend Nik (with Austin in the protective, male role), then with all of us in a V formation. Poor kid didn't suspect a thing, I think. So here's what he's getting for Christmas from all of us, thanks to Ian's Photoshop magic:



I know my readers have probably all seen this, but I feel that this particular bit of win deserves a spot here.

What it looks like where I am.

And this is all yesterday, before it decided to snow just an eensy bit more. Of course, this is the most snow I encountered on my entire trip across I-90, rivaled only maybe by Lookout Pass. It's enough snow to cancel the last two days of my little sister's semester and cave in our pool's winter cover – probably by tearing the brass fasteners straight out of our wood deck. Our poor bunny is living in our shop for the time being.




My dad's telescope mount (about chest high), which is buried up to the counterweight (mid-thigh high).

The most impressive, I think. Consider that that pile in front of you comes nearly to my hips.