Saturday, November 15, 2003
Art walk. My friend Gloria is having an open house at her studio, which is two blocks north of me. I could have driven, if I was really lazy, because driving is what people in Arizona do best. Instead I walked up Palomas, waited at Congress until the crazy traffic had cleared, and then continued on Palomas to Alameda. On the way there I noticed little things. One neighbor has a grapefruit tree heavy with fruit. I live in a Mexican neighborhood so several houses have small shrines with Madonnas and saints, tall cylindrical votive candles.
Gloria and her hand x-ray prints.
Gloria's studio is in her backyard in a corrugated metal and glass window shed. She had experimented with a variety of art forms since retiring as an English teacher. Right now she is working on engraving copper plates, brushing ink across them, wiping the excess ink off, and then pressing the plates onto paper to transfer the image.
Thistle print.
She showed me some great prints stashed away- and until recently I didn't know she was an artist.
On the way home I walked down the west side of Palomas. I paused at Congress, again as the traffic whizzed by, and shot this image of Sentinel Peak (often called "A" Mountain due to a large, ugly A placed on it by the University in 1913). I've played with the image a little, unfortunately the digicam I have takes dark pictures, so I'm constantly having to play with them.
Skyscape, November 2003.
All of my neighbors on my side of the block have dogs and they all barked at me on the way home. A brown long-haired retriever, a brown pitbull, a tiny chihuahua, a bassett hound, a white and brown pitbull. Actually, the dogs at the house directly north of me didn't bother barking. I've bribed them with doggie biscuits enough so they actually like me.
I like my neighborhood. Sure there are the occasional gunshots. And sometimes I am exasperated by the amount of trash that blows into my yard. But I have a cute house and a plain, small front yard. This morning I found a prehistoric pottery sherd washed out by the recent rain. The poppie seeds I planted have sprouted. My orange tree has lots of orange. It just feels nice to know I have this place to come home to.
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Gloria and her hand x-ray prints.
Gloria's studio is in her backyard in a corrugated metal and glass window shed. She had experimented with a variety of art forms since retiring as an English teacher. Right now she is working on engraving copper plates, brushing ink across them, wiping the excess ink off, and then pressing the plates onto paper to transfer the image.
Thistle print.
She showed me some great prints stashed away- and until recently I didn't know she was an artist.
On the way home I walked down the west side of Palomas. I paused at Congress, again as the traffic whizzed by, and shot this image of Sentinel Peak (often called "A" Mountain due to a large, ugly A placed on it by the University in 1913). I've played with the image a little, unfortunately the digicam I have takes dark pictures, so I'm constantly having to play with them.
Skyscape, November 2003.
All of my neighbors on my side of the block have dogs and they all barked at me on the way home. A brown long-haired retriever, a brown pitbull, a tiny chihuahua, a bassett hound, a white and brown pitbull. Actually, the dogs at the house directly north of me didn't bother barking. I've bribed them with doggie biscuits enough so they actually like me.
I like my neighborhood. Sure there are the occasional gunshots. And sometimes I am exasperated by the amount of trash that blows into my yard. But I have a cute house and a plain, small front yard. This morning I found a prehistoric pottery sherd washed out by the recent rain. The poppie seeds I planted have sprouted. My orange tree has lots of orange. It just feels nice to know I have this place to come home to.
