A house in the local light industrial area of the city. A few such structures remain, somewhat out of place.
The Meadow Along the Pathway
The Birds That Wait Forever
These birds, placed in this setting to give them a feeling of life and “the real” instead have a feeling of isolation, aloneness, and emptiness. There seems to be little hope, little future, in spite of the fact they will be there, on the same branch tomorrow, next week, and 5 years from now. Still, I am drawn to them because they don’t move as I study them and notice each feather.
Along a Pathway in the Forest.
A bedroom in the attic, Vancouver, British Columbia.
In the early morning rain.
I woke realising it was raining still, and it was early. I had passed by this little street that oddly enters a public park and abruptly ends. The light bluish paint on the last garage was waiting for the right light, and I knew it would come. Only 30 mins, there and back, but I am oddly happy with the image. It seems to say something quiet about summer, and early morning rain.
In the Forest at Sunrise.
Early this morning, right at day break, I returned to the small woodland at the delta of the Fraser River on the Pacific Coast. Some trees had recently fallen from the parameter of the woodland and light was streaming in where I have never seen it. Where five years ago there had been a Sturt of growth of vines and seedlings, all of those were gone. They had dried out, and crumbled to the ground. I wonder what happened then that brought about a change inside the dark forest, and why it has stopped.
The Back Yard.
The Studio Window in the Early Evening
The studio window, early evening. The light, in late July, already changing. The plants still growing relentlessly.
