|The house is OK, but the tree steals the show.|
|Kennst du das Haus? Auf Säulen ruht sein Dach|
|Law and order|
|Not quite upright|
|Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn ?|
The cathouse. There are always three to six cats on top of the stairs, quite cute, and some really friendly.
But God is against any of their portraits – they move, I move, there is stuff in front that my camera focuses on, etc...|
But eventually I got them
|A little knotted, a little buckled, but Victorian|
|Watercolor hides all blemishes|
Cats continue to be my main consolation on the walk. If I get to pet one, I know that
a minor, Egyptian
God loves me.
Cats continue to be my main consolation on the walk. If I get to pet one, I know that a minor, Egyptian God loves me.
|From the cathouse. The picture was so blurry, I turned it into pointillist art.|
|kitty – crayon|
|Leni, our cat|
|There is a big wire fenced field, with the cat always enthroned in the center – the Lord of all he surveys.|
|Just a different focus – his Presence may not be approached.|
|This is one of the unfriendly residents of the cathouse. It was hiding from me behind the barrel, but had to see what I was doing.|
This cat retired to the safety of the fence, under all the signs proclaiming its fame.
But the cat below, without any fear, allowed me to take its portrait.
This cathouse kitty is the negative of Hitler, thus the most benevolent deity.|
But sometimes even Gods get the itch.
From the cathouse
|Two different cats, and none of them ours. Both very friendly, just across the street.|
Quite a fancy house. There is actually a coat of arms "Sable, a bend sinister argent" on the wall.
|A random piece of polystyrene that fell into a bush. But now the green twig leaves stand out strikingly delineated on the white backround.|
This is how the whole project began. As I was walking – when I was walking – I picked some pretty quiet streets in San Jose, with gardens and old trees, and sometimes villas. Houses are, however, depressing – debt death and taxes – so I concentrated on the flora. In particular, the variety of color and shape of even the most banal trees' bark struck me, and eventually I started taking pictures; then got quite crazy about prettifying them, adding pointed titles and arranging the pictures in some meaningful way.
Unfortunately, just the bark alone didn't work for me
As I was looking for some quotation for bark I jumped to the Looking Glass , The Garden of Live Flowers:
Alice didn't like being criticised, so she began asking questions. 'Aren't you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody to take care of you?'I was sure the tree would bark, but, alas, not such is the case.
'There's the tree in the middle,' said the Rose: 'what else is it good for?'
'But what could it do, if any danger came?' Alice asked.
'It says "Bough-wough!"' cried a Daisy: 'that's why its branches are called boughs!'
If I could, I would erase the car in the foreground. |
Let it stay, as a contrast between natural and technical, organic and inorganic, begotten and made ...
|The most spectacular bark. To me, it suggests paper industry. And I found it in our complex yard.|
All the other trunks are alive. This one is just a telephone pole.
My mother mentioned this once – she actually heard it in medical school – and I never forgot.
|Munched by squirrels, picked by birds|
|Bark and flowers – living and dead – and shiny trash|
|Garbage with a graceful bend|
|Trash, with a sense of color|
|Wilted, brown, plainly garbage; but shall the leopard change his spots ?|
|Ten — hut !!|
|Le réel parce que vil|
Bel castel.But none of the above will do; must needs have bella castelo.
|Strawberries on black and white — but then the composition gets spoiled by the utilitarian tomato.|
|I can't decide if I like or hate this castle, with its fake roof and turret. But then it is clean and neat, and what could be authentic in California ... The missions have some sedated majesty, but aren't pretty.|
|I love the pot and the purple circles on the leaves, but the hose house in the middle ...|