I'm so confused, worst case of ADD ever
Too many distractions in the new space and lots
of busy things to do, inside, outside, now and in the future. On the other
hand, my studio is set up and functional - even if I've not got the time now to
engage in any activities within it. More photos of the city, the new space, and
a few odd shots of some night lights.
Wow, I don't think I was in endless work mode
with more diverse tasks and demands on me when I was my busiest on some mission
for NASA. Which means that my little kingdom is "almost" mine again and now
it's got to be tended to and the new volume filled and things like cleaning and
still eating and getting outside for a dose of ultraviolet all compete against -
not my time - but the finite cycle of a day. It's only 24 hours, other people
are around or willing for only fractions of that whole and things needed have to
be gotten from other places which have a slice of the clock all to themselves.
Couple that with a situation where I can now experience or intrude or participate in as many as two dozen simultaneous households and just keeping one's mind on the task at hand becomes a real effort of concentration. There's SO much distraction in the new space. I can hear every neighborhood sound - now instead of becoming accustomed to the creaks and groans of my own house, I have to become accustomed to the creaks, groans, late-night comings and goings of an entire set of blocks.
It looks like August 3 or thereabouts is the annual block party day - if I'm correct, the street in front of the new tower will be the picnic-smorgasbord patch and it makes perfect sense to invite everyone in (not all at once) for a "look see." There's no point in showing off the old part, which folks have been in or seen, but rather, the new part and the amazingly synoptic view of the entire neighborhood it provides on two interior and two exterior levels. I'm probably already on some military department's list of properties to take over through eminent domain. It'd be fun, but probably would cost me some trouble, to get a couple-watt gas argon or krypton laser and see if I could actually describe an entire circle on the terrain around me. Like I said, it'd cost me some trouble, but it'd sure be cool. Among the folks who would see it plain and simple are the controllers in the tower at SeaTac. I'm sure they've eyeballed me on the roof with their binoculars by now - I've sure thought of getting a telescope and peering in on them.
So, I'm distracted by living inside this huge vista-space. I can hear for blocks and see to the horizon or mountains, whichever it is. I think the skies over Puget Sound are every bit as busy as the skies were over the Chesapeake Bay-Balto-DC area were. I mean, you gotta love it when you're outdoors (DC was on bike all the time, here it's just like living outdoors) and some F-16 or F-14 goes cruising overhead at about 3,000 feet under full military power. Forget my political misgivings about the use of money for weapons and a standing military-industrial-complex, and just think about someone who loves airplanes and lives in a rich aerial environment. DC is one. Seattle is two. But, you've got to be able to see it - the DC advantage is everything is built low and the ground is rolling. I can see it hear 'cause I'm outside (essentially) on a high hill which happens to have a nearly complete commanding view. You can easily imagine how someone like me, who will multi-task until I stall, could get distracted. There's no room which doesn't have a sight-line to at least three quadrants ('cept the bathroom, which only guys can see Mt. Rainier - might install a strategic mirror somewhere - which means on Mt. Rainier one could see back into my upstairs bathroom).
Still I have more than twenty boxes filled with stuff. I've got about eight boxes filled with over 10,000 negatives, 5,000 slides (viewable - in cubes or carousels awaiting a show), and about 500 prints up to 11-by-14, some even mounted. I've thought of buying a hanging, classroom-style, reflective screen which I could pull down from the triangle window overhang and run either Bell&Howell cube or Kodak Carousel slide shows of my work as background video when I was in the studio and it was dark. That idea only requires time and money - time for the money to accrue. But, I've got to find some "place" to put all this stuff which was lingering safely and environmentally-correct in our basement in DC for twenty-three years. Now, I've got a space and a plan on how to use this entire era of my life. Almost all those images will show my Army through Texas days, which includes Old Seattle, and early DC (the most recent 23-year stay was late DC). Actually I can hardly wait. Katherine and I used to take these great five-day hiking and camping trips to the Big Bend National Park. In my mind's thinking, the "Great" national parks we've got are: Yellowstone, Glacier, Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, the Olympics, and the Big Bend. Each of these is phenomenally different and yet breathtaking and vast - and I mean vast - whole ecosystems. I've got some stunning color Ektachrome and Kodachrome shots of some of the colors and lights which only the Chihuahuan Desert can show <http://www.nps.gov/bibe/>.
That was also the era when Katherine and I were exploring North America in our first Volvo - a lemon which turned a year later into a replacement clone which became "trusty steed." We were amazingly young, fresh and only the slightest tinged with jade. The photos and images I captured in that era are some of my most expressive displays of raw enthusiasm and naivete - full of color, richness, to borrow a phrase - "smiling phases."
Plus, America was being bold and daring for a change and there were new forms of architecture and new highway designs. A lot of that era resides in these B&H cubes and Kodak carousels. Heck, back then I even had my own darkroom and turned out some bizarre experimental stuff which is about to be unboxed. Did I mention how much time simple yard tasks take. Just removing the dead, last-year's, growth on one area of ferns and removing more construction debris hidden under all that dead brush was two hours. Couple of jobs a day like that and your day is suddenly gone. When you add in the realization that it doesn't get "dark" here anywhere before ten o'clock and you're working and working 'causes it's still daylight and then you realize - "whoops, what about dinner?" And all of a sudden it's midnight and one or more of us needs real sleep. Next thing you know and it's daylight again except it's just past four oclock in the morning! Gheeze. And, it's another day.
Don't get me wrong. Were I working for Microsoft and had a dog and that was my life it would probably be the same and I'd still be at odds with how much time was in a single day - or, perhaps more truthfully, how fast the Earth turns. I want it to slow down so there's more time in each day. Instead of going at 681-miles-per-hour, I want it to go 450 or even 300 <http://imagine.gsfc.nasa.gov/docs/ask_astro/answers/970401c.html>.
But, wait, you say. I've been at this for a week, surely something akin to order must have been achieved. True enough. My technical toys are all plugged in, turned on, connected, happy and functional. The studio does not yet feel cluttered and yet there two computer systems, a full-bore stereo, drum set, MIDI system and two separate mixer stations - all interconnected and tied into the separate phase power the electrician and I agreed upon for the "equipment" wiring. I am real pleased that the speakers, the drums, the desk, all are still open on all sides and easy to walk around and get by. I was pretty pleased to be able to psych Apple's OS X into retransmitting my wireless internet link out its ethernet port and into my old G3's ethernet port and have both machines able to surf the 'net at blazing speeds. They're tied in through a mixer to each other's input/output so I can use either for audio production/reproduction/experimentation. The MIDI only works through the iBook, but it's output can be directed to the G3's input. The top of the desk is pretty uncluttered too. That's an accomplishment. Not that I have any time to mess with GarageBand, or resume my editing of my second "Explore Washington" interactive CD. But the studio and systems are ready - and it IS nice to be able to hear my Quicktime movies in good stereo with bass again. Editing stuff with iMovie or Final Cut will be more fun just because the soundtrack will sound better.
I've got to clean and wax the concrete new floor downstairs and think about - maybe - beginning to clean up the downstairs. The last raft of carpentry and painting put yet another (third time?) layer of fine dust on everything in the living room, kitchen and dining area. The inside of the hanging pots and ladles have this coating of MDF (medium density fiberboard) and paint dust - just thick enough to write your initials in it. The books, too! Et cetera, et cetera. I'm getting really GOOD at using a vacuum cleaner.
Window coverings? Hard to say where I stand on that one. First off, I can't afford anything right now anyway, so it's almost a moot point. But, because the rooms have such a view out - out has such a view in, and once the sun goes down it "might" be nice to shield inside from the porch lights, street lights, headlights of cars coming in two directions on two streets, and anything else that goes "light" in the night. Or, to look at it from the outsider's perspective - there may be times when it would be more appropriate or desirable for outside to not be able to see inside. Remember the line earlier about the rooms having three-quadrant-minimum views. That usually means people on two different streets or from a whole range of other houses could see inside. So, being the complete exhibitionist that I am, the perfect public fool, I've not got a problem with leaving the window treatment until I can afford it and just figuring that "I see what I see," and others "see what they see" and leave it at that.
My stereo sounds good from the street. It has that high-quality, solid feel of a distant live band. That means, in "my" judgment, there shouldn't be any or much notice of it from either neighbors or passers-by. Now this is at "moderate" listening levels, you might have to speak up to converse in the same room but outside it would just be "the music." That's a good thing for two reasons: I probably won't come across as some neighborhood jerk; and the acoustics of the studio the speakers are in has a really good interface with the outside air - acoustically speaking, the room is properly loaded. No wonder it sounds so good. Volume, Watson, one must always be aware of the volume, not just the space. Been playing some of my records - Long Playing 33 1/3 RPM vinyl. The floor in this new addition is so solid that I need nothing to acoustically isolate the turntable. In DC, I had to use two layers of closed-cell mat with a triple-laminate wood layer in between to keep the speaker floor transmissions from sneaking back into the platter and into the cartridge. Here, heck, I just stacked the turntable on top of the preamp and nothing happens. Once again I'm reminded of how slick some of the modern building technologies really are. These TJI joists under the floor - on 16-inch centers - are a solid rectangle sitting atop the beefed-up walls and foundation of the original house. They're five feet above the other house on a new, sub-floor wooden frame which included several six-by-twelve laminated beams. On top of the TJI joists are five-layer, 3/4-inch thick, floor plywood which is epoxy-glued to the joist long-member and one-way nailed on 6-inch centers. I mean it's as solid as a concrete foundation floor and yet it's floating fifteen-feet above the ground.
It does make a great floor for a sound studio - that's for sure. Drums sound great - kick bass has real "kick" to it - I think it can even be felt in the yard with the windows open. There are apparently some neighborhood musicians who occasionally gig together. I'll probably meet all of them at the block party. So, back to the block party. This is a tradition, it seems, to enable crime prevention and neighborhood awareness. Every summer the Seattle Police Department and the (I'm guessing thousands) block captains connive to hold a picnic-party from 8:00 pm through, I guess, whenever it breaks. This will be my first one so I'm not sure what to expect but already I've picked up on some traditional things each of the many neighbors does or brings to the block party. My across-the-street lumberjack-turned-office furniture installer gathers loads of blackberries with a cousin and turns out what he describes as one huge blackberry cobbler - "but, you better get there early, it always goes fast." I'm figuring since we're the newbies, along with one other couple and their toddler, that we can get away with bringing anything but the biggest "thing" we could do is invite folks into the new space and let them see both the inside and what it shows of the outside.
That will be the quickest way for my neighbors to exclaim or realize "oh my god, he can see right into our (name the forbidden room or space)." That way, what I was saying earlier about "seeing and being seen" will have a more personal effect on everyone and everyone will probably act accordingly. I didn't realize how many of my neighbors had perches or hidden balconies until I could see all of them even when they couldn't see each other. The open house will be interesting for that element alone. If I'm really lucky, the block party will occur on one of those evenings when both Rainier and Baker are being bathed with late-day red sun rays and the Olympics later will turn a hundred shades of blue-gray while the sky behind them turns from yellow to gold to apricot to salmon to pink to blood red and then the darkness comes as layers of green followed by shades of blue followed by a pale blue glow underneath a black star-filled sky. I've seen dozens of such evening sunsets in the past few months. Probability is high that the block party night will be such a night. When that happens, and one spends the thirty or more minutes observing it, often, it becomes part of the day's markers. It's not just "night" anymore. Night has arrived, it was festooned by the fading sun in all its glorious shades of atmospheric color.
There are countless other neat-o views which everyone will find. Kids, of course, will have to be prohibited from the roof unless both accompanied and hand-held by an adult. It's a 28-foot fall straight down on three sides, down to the ground. I guess I'll also learn who in the neighborhood is acrophobic.
As if all this busy-ness isn't enough, there's this huge, three-week, road trip coming up. I must leave here by August 8 to arrive in North Carolina with Adam and Leif on August 14. Ah, and then do nothing for a week along the coastal Carolina sand and ocean. Wilmington, NC, is one of those towns which was "lost" for nearly half-a-century and came back even better than in its heyday. It was a leading port during the Colonial era and was a turn-of-the-century/Industrial Age railroad and shipping center of East Coast note and then after World War II it sort of just "disappeared." It was revived and has built upon its location, heritage of all those 19th century buildings which were "left standing 'cause no one had the money to tear them down," and some clever new industries based on the idea that creative types and service industries would like the proximity to one of the East Coast's finest stretches of ocean beach. It worked. Wilmington is a place where one can get a cheap and wonderful dinner of boiled crabs or breaded catfish or a five-star dinner downtown on the river. There's at least three local coffee house chains - local to the Cape Fear region. Plus, it's the hometown beach town of my youth and of my mom's youth and of her mom's youth and so on. That's what's cool about Wilmington. It's got Wrightsville Beach, and Kuri Beach, and Carolina Beach and so on and so on. Each of these is an authentic original beach town, not been Daytona'd or Ocean City'd or Myrtle Beached to death. Still the old-style beach house. Still the old-style boardwalk. Still the old and good restaurants and amusements. And, then you can go to Wilmington for all the sophisticated, East Coast liberal snotty things you'd want to do. And, Wilmington is all of a ten minute drive away.
Everyone who goes to these things loves them. My mom and her sisters and brother are the oldest of the lot now, all but two of my cousins have been regulars and everyone has been bringing their kids (first cousins once removed). Who knows where something like this will evolve. My mom was trapped because her mom came from a family of twelve which had been doing this for their entire lives and their forebears had done something like it for at least two additional generations back. Soon, I'll be the bearer of the name-standard (Culbreth - Scottish, derivative of Gilbraith) although one of my cousins has long decided that she's the bearer of the flame (which is fine because she lives like right there anyway). This will be one of the more fun reunions - last year was the scheduled "every two years" reunion but a bunch of us begged off to the point that we rescheduled it to this year and everyone's coming this year. It will be the first reunion where most of us will have digital cameras and probably bring our laptops so we'll be able to see each other's blackmail photos right after they're taken.
And when it's all said and done, Leif get's dropped off in DC and Adam and I get one more chance to plan an impromptu Cross-North America trip.
So, there's lots of things to distract me of late. Haven't been on a bike ride in a month mostly because if I walk I know I'll only walk for so long/far and then come home and I can bank usually on a random exploration by foot lasting no more than three hours. A bike ride, because one has more distance per time, can lead one far afield and a two hour trek in one direction can easily lead to a three hour diversion on the way back. Because I've not had what I would call "free" time, I've decided to keep the bike in stow for now and start on the bike when I can leave the house and not have the house linger on my mind while I'm peddling away somewhere. I know, strange self-philosophy, but I would prefer to get the stuff which "has" to get done, done, and then use my time for play than try and mete out play time while there's things which need doing. I plan on living a long time so there's no rush for some of these wants.
One thing I'm really looking forward to is the coming late Fall and Winter. I had heard about some really interesting and good Pacific winter storms but until I lived through a few of them this past Winter I didn't realize how much I would like this form of inclement weather. Not only that, but with the new upstairs I'll be able to face those driving rainstorms in the eye and still be inside, warm and comfortable. It will be so so so cool to watch the fog roll up the hill from the Sound and be able to see it the whole distance. Last winter I used to just go out and stand in the street and watch this stuff roll up hill and past me at what seemed like a 15 or more mile/hour pace. One could get wet very quickly in a rolling fog - fine mist really penetrates. So put me down as being a bad-weather-fanatic. No, I don't go chase hurricanes or tornadoes, but if one rolls past me I'll probably enjoy it just fine.
I've also been using the VR mode of the Canon a lot lately to take wide angle or very wide angle views of places, in addition to the usual VRs. Some scenes need an adjustable angle view to appreciate what's going on and with the stitch-assist mode, one can basically create whatever wide-angle view one needs for the image.
later
chas
Looking in from the doorway to the studio. That's the glass desk with the old G3 and somewhat-less-old iBook along with a bunch
of firewire devices and one of the mixers - MIDI keyboard was still downstairs when this shot was taken.
Looking back toward main entrance to studio. I've got a lot of cables strung all over the place and in an attempt to "not trip" people, have
installed these floor cable mats. Still has a very spacious feel to the place, though.
Looking over the desk towards drums and stereo. Cabinets on the left contain about two-thirds of the CDs I own (more still in boxes); the
cabinets on the right contain cassettes (top row) and albums (LPs). Lots of money paid to the thugs at the recording an publishing houses
so when I want to invoke "Fair Use" I've got thousands and thousands of dollars behind me.
From the drum set perspective showing the other mixer. Microphone stands will eventually be placed strategically somewhere here.
Every month I attend a couple of meetups. This is one of the tables at Uptown Espresso (Belltown - 4th & Wall)
with a portion of the group. At the photo/photoblog meeting everyone brings cameras and other toys and a few laptops.
A couple different views of members of the group clowning around - left image shows us trying mirror shots, right
view shows "people taking pictures of people taking pictures of people taking pictures," or something like that.
This is a view of the the last exit off the Alaska Way Viaduct before it dives under
Battery Street, disappears, and reappears as Aurora Avenue. View is looking straight south
along Western Avenue toward the rest of downtown.
Left view is looking south along Western right under the Aurora-Battery Street overpass right before Aurora goes into the Battery Street
tunnel. Right view is looking north at the other end of the median strip. In the right view, the area under the overpass is one of the places
where "pick up" labor folks hang out hoping for day jobs.
Walking north along Western one gets these late afternoon reflections off the buildings in Belltown. Right image buildings were facing west
and catching the late sun, left image buildings were facing east and looking somewhat forlorn.
Just north of Pike Place Market, on Western Avenue, is Gallery Mack. Inside presently is this functining, whimsical
wind sculpture along with a lot of other great pieces of art - none of which I can afford but a lot of which I wouldn't
mind having on display or on loan.
Here's another view of the "flying art" sculpture along with one of dancing creatures. The
gallery has windows into its art space from three sides of the plaza it's on - which has some
pretty nice views over the Viaduct and out into Elliott Bay - along with a nearby Tully's
Coffee Shop and some of the area's more interesting furniture and import stores.
An embroidered, Texas-style, fashion shoe for the ladies, found in one
of the stores along First Avenue in Belltown. No price but these kinds
of items usually have three digits before the decimal. Because this one
is strapless and has no security holding it on the foot, it would NOT be
a good shoe to use to "kick some butt," as the shoe would fly off.
More First Avenue silliness - manikin legs detached and used in a disarray to highlight
fashion hand bags - not sure of the result of this designer's idea.
Inside Metsker's new shop in the Pike Place Market area, also on First, with the Showgirls marquee reflected in the
window. Metsker's moved from First Ave. in Pioneer Square to the Pike Place Market area earlier this year. Haven't seen
any new clients in Metsker's old building, though. It seems like their business is maybe twice what it was when they
were further south by about a mile. The new space doesn't have as many nooks and crannies as their old space but
does have more tourists who drop in.
Just some fun captures of one of those "lightning" lights, this one being used to advertise "X Gym," a high-tech
muscle toning factory on Wall Street in Belltown.
From the West Seattle Bridge, a view of the harbor from inside a moving bus with camera on about one second exposure.
About two years ago there was a notice in "The Stranger" about new bus security cameras
which would be installed on Metro buses. The new buses which Metro has purchased
had these "holes" in the ceiling until recently, when they were filled in with these $7000
micro-security cameras. The left one points toward the driver and the right one points
toward the rear - this is at the rear exit. Just so you know.
Wide angle shot along Western Avenue just north of Steinbrueck Park with the condo on the right reflected in the
glass-sided building on the left. Seattle's Belltown, for being a relatively new settlement, has some eclectic and rather
interesting shops as well as a huge variety of condos, apartments and townhouses. Roughly 20,000 people live in this
"downtown" neighborhood.
Right at the end of the Pike Place Market area there's this new development overlooking Alaska Way Viaduct and the harbor. This view is
centered on the courtyard with the harbor on either side. Gallery Mack features some outstanding - and very pricey - modern metal and
glass sculpture, much of it which "works."
A view looking north along Western Avenue at Stewart Street - the "end" of downtown and the beginning of Belltown.
Under the Alaska Way overpass right before it goes beneath Battery Street is this street sculpture of concrete "waves."
This area is used by itinerant labor, who stand and wait for day jobs or week jobs. In the morning there are several
score of such would-be workers lining this area and along First Avenue at Stewart.
Right at the end of the Pike Place Market outside vendor area, after hours. The market closes at 6:00 pm and everything except the
cafes and restaurants are closed and the vendors pack up their vegetables, fruits, other consumables and art, clothing, etc., and
head home to return the next day. This is right where Pike Place merges into Western Avenue and a block away from where
Western splits again to create Elliott Avenue. The trees on the left are Steinbrueck Park. Peter Steinbrueck, Sr., was instrumental,
along with his son, now a city council member, in saving the Market in the 60's when development forces were pressing to
tear down the historic structure. The entire market complex is now on the National Register of Historic Places.
A few paces further north along Pike and we're at Western and Lenora. Sort of the beginning of Belltown and the interesting mix of
furniture and other outfitting stores along Western. Cost Plus, the store on the left, is an amazing import imporium - lots of good stuff
for cheap and lots of weird, hard-to-find stuff for a reasonable price. View is looking straight north and is a 360-degree pan.
Couple that with a situation where I can now experience or intrude or participate in as many as two dozen simultaneous households and just keeping one's mind on the task at hand becomes a real effort of concentration. There's SO much distraction in the new space. I can hear every neighborhood sound - now instead of becoming accustomed to the creaks and groans of my own house, I have to become accustomed to the creaks, groans, late-night comings and goings of an entire set of blocks.
It looks like August 3 or thereabouts is the annual block party day - if I'm correct, the street in front of the new tower will be the picnic-smorgasbord patch and it makes perfect sense to invite everyone in (not all at once) for a "look see." There's no point in showing off the old part, which folks have been in or seen, but rather, the new part and the amazingly synoptic view of the entire neighborhood it provides on two interior and two exterior levels. I'm probably already on some military department's list of properties to take over through eminent domain. It'd be fun, but probably would cost me some trouble, to get a couple-watt gas argon or krypton laser and see if I could actually describe an entire circle on the terrain around me. Like I said, it'd cost me some trouble, but it'd sure be cool. Among the folks who would see it plain and simple are the controllers in the tower at SeaTac. I'm sure they've eyeballed me on the roof with their binoculars by now - I've sure thought of getting a telescope and peering in on them.
So, I'm distracted by living inside this huge vista-space. I can hear for blocks and see to the horizon or mountains, whichever it is. I think the skies over Puget Sound are every bit as busy as the skies were over the Chesapeake Bay-Balto-DC area were. I mean, you gotta love it when you're outdoors (DC was on bike all the time, here it's just like living outdoors) and some F-16 or F-14 goes cruising overhead at about 3,000 feet under full military power. Forget my political misgivings about the use of money for weapons and a standing military-industrial-complex, and just think about someone who loves airplanes and lives in a rich aerial environment. DC is one. Seattle is two. But, you've got to be able to see it - the DC advantage is everything is built low and the ground is rolling. I can see it hear 'cause I'm outside (essentially) on a high hill which happens to have a nearly complete commanding view. You can easily imagine how someone like me, who will multi-task until I stall, could get distracted. There's no room which doesn't have a sight-line to at least three quadrants ('cept the bathroom, which only guys can see Mt. Rainier - might install a strategic mirror somewhere - which means on Mt. Rainier one could see back into my upstairs bathroom).
Still I have more than twenty boxes filled with stuff. I've got about eight boxes filled with over 10,000 negatives, 5,000 slides (viewable - in cubes or carousels awaiting a show), and about 500 prints up to 11-by-14, some even mounted. I've thought of buying a hanging, classroom-style, reflective screen which I could pull down from the triangle window overhang and run either Bell&Howell cube or Kodak Carousel slide shows of my work as background video when I was in the studio and it was dark. That idea only requires time and money - time for the money to accrue. But, I've got to find some "place" to put all this stuff which was lingering safely and environmentally-correct in our basement in DC for twenty-three years. Now, I've got a space and a plan on how to use this entire era of my life. Almost all those images will show my Army through Texas days, which includes Old Seattle, and early DC (the most recent 23-year stay was late DC). Actually I can hardly wait. Katherine and I used to take these great five-day hiking and camping trips to the Big Bend National Park. In my mind's thinking, the "Great" national parks we've got are: Yellowstone, Glacier, Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, the Olympics, and the Big Bend. Each of these is phenomenally different and yet breathtaking and vast - and I mean vast - whole ecosystems. I've got some stunning color Ektachrome and Kodachrome shots of some of the colors and lights which only the Chihuahuan Desert can show <http://www.nps.gov/bibe/>.
That was also the era when Katherine and I were exploring North America in our first Volvo - a lemon which turned a year later into a replacement clone which became "trusty steed." We were amazingly young, fresh and only the slightest tinged with jade. The photos and images I captured in that era are some of my most expressive displays of raw enthusiasm and naivete - full of color, richness, to borrow a phrase - "smiling phases."
Plus, America was being bold and daring for a change and there were new forms of architecture and new highway designs. A lot of that era resides in these B&H cubes and Kodak carousels. Heck, back then I even had my own darkroom and turned out some bizarre experimental stuff which is about to be unboxed. Did I mention how much time simple yard tasks take. Just removing the dead, last-year's, growth on one area of ferns and removing more construction debris hidden under all that dead brush was two hours. Couple of jobs a day like that and your day is suddenly gone. When you add in the realization that it doesn't get "dark" here anywhere before ten o'clock and you're working and working 'causes it's still daylight and then you realize - "whoops, what about dinner?" And all of a sudden it's midnight and one or more of us needs real sleep. Next thing you know and it's daylight again except it's just past four oclock in the morning! Gheeze. And, it's another day.
Don't get me wrong. Were I working for Microsoft and had a dog and that was my life it would probably be the same and I'd still be at odds with how much time was in a single day - or, perhaps more truthfully, how fast the Earth turns. I want it to slow down so there's more time in each day. Instead of going at 681-miles-per-hour, I want it to go 450 or even 300 <http://imagine.gsfc.nasa.gov/docs/ask_astro/answers/970401c.html>.
But, wait, you say. I've been at this for a week, surely something akin to order must have been achieved. True enough. My technical toys are all plugged in, turned on, connected, happy and functional. The studio does not yet feel cluttered and yet there two computer systems, a full-bore stereo, drum set, MIDI system and two separate mixer stations - all interconnected and tied into the separate phase power the electrician and I agreed upon for the "equipment" wiring. I am real pleased that the speakers, the drums, the desk, all are still open on all sides and easy to walk around and get by. I was pretty pleased to be able to psych Apple's OS X into retransmitting my wireless internet link out its ethernet port and into my old G3's ethernet port and have both machines able to surf the 'net at blazing speeds. They're tied in through a mixer to each other's input/output so I can use either for audio production/reproduction/experimentation. The MIDI only works through the iBook, but it's output can be directed to the G3's input. The top of the desk is pretty uncluttered too. That's an accomplishment. Not that I have any time to mess with GarageBand, or resume my editing of my second "Explore Washington" interactive CD. But the studio and systems are ready - and it IS nice to be able to hear my Quicktime movies in good stereo with bass again. Editing stuff with iMovie or Final Cut will be more fun just because the soundtrack will sound better.
I've got to clean and wax the concrete new floor downstairs and think about - maybe - beginning to clean up the downstairs. The last raft of carpentry and painting put yet another (third time?) layer of fine dust on everything in the living room, kitchen and dining area. The inside of the hanging pots and ladles have this coating of MDF (medium density fiberboard) and paint dust - just thick enough to write your initials in it. The books, too! Et cetera, et cetera. I'm getting really GOOD at using a vacuum cleaner.
Window coverings? Hard to say where I stand on that one. First off, I can't afford anything right now anyway, so it's almost a moot point. But, because the rooms have such a view out - out has such a view in, and once the sun goes down it "might" be nice to shield inside from the porch lights, street lights, headlights of cars coming in two directions on two streets, and anything else that goes "light" in the night. Or, to look at it from the outsider's perspective - there may be times when it would be more appropriate or desirable for outside to not be able to see inside. Remember the line earlier about the rooms having three-quadrant-minimum views. That usually means people on two different streets or from a whole range of other houses could see inside. So, being the complete exhibitionist that I am, the perfect public fool, I've not got a problem with leaving the window treatment until I can afford it and just figuring that "I see what I see," and others "see what they see" and leave it at that.
My stereo sounds good from the street. It has that high-quality, solid feel of a distant live band. That means, in "my" judgment, there shouldn't be any or much notice of it from either neighbors or passers-by. Now this is at "moderate" listening levels, you might have to speak up to converse in the same room but outside it would just be "the music." That's a good thing for two reasons: I probably won't come across as some neighborhood jerk; and the acoustics of the studio the speakers are in has a really good interface with the outside air - acoustically speaking, the room is properly loaded. No wonder it sounds so good. Volume, Watson, one must always be aware of the volume, not just the space. Been playing some of my records - Long Playing 33 1/3 RPM vinyl. The floor in this new addition is so solid that I need nothing to acoustically isolate the turntable. In DC, I had to use two layers of closed-cell mat with a triple-laminate wood layer in between to keep the speaker floor transmissions from sneaking back into the platter and into the cartridge. Here, heck, I just stacked the turntable on top of the preamp and nothing happens. Once again I'm reminded of how slick some of the modern building technologies really are. These TJI joists under the floor - on 16-inch centers - are a solid rectangle sitting atop the beefed-up walls and foundation of the original house. They're five feet above the other house on a new, sub-floor wooden frame which included several six-by-twelve laminated beams. On top of the TJI joists are five-layer, 3/4-inch thick, floor plywood which is epoxy-glued to the joist long-member and one-way nailed on 6-inch centers. I mean it's as solid as a concrete foundation floor and yet it's floating fifteen-feet above the ground.
It does make a great floor for a sound studio - that's for sure. Drums sound great - kick bass has real "kick" to it - I think it can even be felt in the yard with the windows open. There are apparently some neighborhood musicians who occasionally gig together. I'll probably meet all of them at the block party. So, back to the block party. This is a tradition, it seems, to enable crime prevention and neighborhood awareness. Every summer the Seattle Police Department and the (I'm guessing thousands) block captains connive to hold a picnic-party from 8:00 pm through, I guess, whenever it breaks. This will be my first one so I'm not sure what to expect but already I've picked up on some traditional things each of the many neighbors does or brings to the block party. My across-the-street lumberjack-turned-office furniture installer gathers loads of blackberries with a cousin and turns out what he describes as one huge blackberry cobbler - "but, you better get there early, it always goes fast." I'm figuring since we're the newbies, along with one other couple and their toddler, that we can get away with bringing anything but the biggest "thing" we could do is invite folks into the new space and let them see both the inside and what it shows of the outside.
That will be the quickest way for my neighbors to exclaim or realize "oh my god, he can see right into our (name the forbidden room or space)." That way, what I was saying earlier about "seeing and being seen" will have a more personal effect on everyone and everyone will probably act accordingly. I didn't realize how many of my neighbors had perches or hidden balconies until I could see all of them even when they couldn't see each other. The open house will be interesting for that element alone. If I'm really lucky, the block party will occur on one of those evenings when both Rainier and Baker are being bathed with late-day red sun rays and the Olympics later will turn a hundred shades of blue-gray while the sky behind them turns from yellow to gold to apricot to salmon to pink to blood red and then the darkness comes as layers of green followed by shades of blue followed by a pale blue glow underneath a black star-filled sky. I've seen dozens of such evening sunsets in the past few months. Probability is high that the block party night will be such a night. When that happens, and one spends the thirty or more minutes observing it, often, it becomes part of the day's markers. It's not just "night" anymore. Night has arrived, it was festooned by the fading sun in all its glorious shades of atmospheric color.
There are countless other neat-o views which everyone will find. Kids, of course, will have to be prohibited from the roof unless both accompanied and hand-held by an adult. It's a 28-foot fall straight down on three sides, down to the ground. I guess I'll also learn who in the neighborhood is acrophobic.
As if all this busy-ness isn't enough, there's this huge, three-week, road trip coming up. I must leave here by August 8 to arrive in North Carolina with Adam and Leif on August 14. Ah, and then do nothing for a week along the coastal Carolina sand and ocean. Wilmington, NC, is one of those towns which was "lost" for nearly half-a-century and came back even better than in its heyday. It was a leading port during the Colonial era and was a turn-of-the-century/Industrial Age railroad and shipping center of East Coast note and then after World War II it sort of just "disappeared." It was revived and has built upon its location, heritage of all those 19th century buildings which were "left standing 'cause no one had the money to tear them down," and some clever new industries based on the idea that creative types and service industries would like the proximity to one of the East Coast's finest stretches of ocean beach. It worked. Wilmington is a place where one can get a cheap and wonderful dinner of boiled crabs or breaded catfish or a five-star dinner downtown on the river. There's at least three local coffee house chains - local to the Cape Fear region. Plus, it's the hometown beach town of my youth and of my mom's youth and of her mom's youth and so on. That's what's cool about Wilmington. It's got Wrightsville Beach, and Kuri Beach, and Carolina Beach and so on and so on. Each of these is an authentic original beach town, not been Daytona'd or Ocean City'd or Myrtle Beached to death. Still the old-style beach house. Still the old-style boardwalk. Still the old and good restaurants and amusements. And, then you can go to Wilmington for all the sophisticated, East Coast liberal snotty things you'd want to do. And, Wilmington is all of a ten minute drive away.
Everyone who goes to these things loves them. My mom and her sisters and brother are the oldest of the lot now, all but two of my cousins have been regulars and everyone has been bringing their kids (first cousins once removed). Who knows where something like this will evolve. My mom was trapped because her mom came from a family of twelve which had been doing this for their entire lives and their forebears had done something like it for at least two additional generations back. Soon, I'll be the bearer of the name-standard (Culbreth - Scottish, derivative of Gilbraith) although one of my cousins has long decided that she's the bearer of the flame (which is fine because she lives like right there anyway). This will be one of the more fun reunions - last year was the scheduled "every two years" reunion but a bunch of us begged off to the point that we rescheduled it to this year and everyone's coming this year. It will be the first reunion where most of us will have digital cameras and probably bring our laptops so we'll be able to see each other's blackmail photos right after they're taken.
And when it's all said and done, Leif get's dropped off in DC and Adam and I get one more chance to plan an impromptu Cross-North America trip.
So, there's lots of things to distract me of late. Haven't been on a bike ride in a month mostly because if I walk I know I'll only walk for so long/far and then come home and I can bank usually on a random exploration by foot lasting no more than three hours. A bike ride, because one has more distance per time, can lead one far afield and a two hour trek in one direction can easily lead to a three hour diversion on the way back. Because I've not had what I would call "free" time, I've decided to keep the bike in stow for now and start on the bike when I can leave the house and not have the house linger on my mind while I'm peddling away somewhere. I know, strange self-philosophy, but I would prefer to get the stuff which "has" to get done, done, and then use my time for play than try and mete out play time while there's things which need doing. I plan on living a long time so there's no rush for some of these wants.
One thing I'm really looking forward to is the coming late Fall and Winter. I had heard about some really interesting and good Pacific winter storms but until I lived through a few of them this past Winter I didn't realize how much I would like this form of inclement weather. Not only that, but with the new upstairs I'll be able to face those driving rainstorms in the eye and still be inside, warm and comfortable. It will be so so so cool to watch the fog roll up the hill from the Sound and be able to see it the whole distance. Last winter I used to just go out and stand in the street and watch this stuff roll up hill and past me at what seemed like a 15 or more mile/hour pace. One could get wet very quickly in a rolling fog - fine mist really penetrates. So put me down as being a bad-weather-fanatic. No, I don't go chase hurricanes or tornadoes, but if one rolls past me I'll probably enjoy it just fine.
I've also been using the VR mode of the Canon a lot lately to take wide angle or very wide angle views of places, in addition to the usual VRs. Some scenes need an adjustable angle view to appreciate what's going on and with the stitch-assist mode, one can basically create whatever wide-angle view one needs for the image.
later
chas
Looking in from the doorway to the studio. That's the glass desk with the old G3 and somewhat-less-old iBook along with a bunch
of firewire devices and one of the mixers - MIDI keyboard was still downstairs when this shot was taken.
Looking back toward main entrance to studio. I've got a lot of cables strung all over the place and in an attempt to "not trip" people, have
installed these floor cable mats. Still has a very spacious feel to the place, though.
Looking over the desk towards drums and stereo. Cabinets on the left contain about two-thirds of the CDs I own (more still in boxes); the
cabinets on the right contain cassettes (top row) and albums (LPs). Lots of money paid to the thugs at the recording an publishing houses
so when I want to invoke "Fair Use" I've got thousands and thousands of dollars behind me.
From the drum set perspective showing the other mixer. Microphone stands will eventually be placed strategically somewhere here.
Every month I attend a couple of meetups. This is one of the tables at Uptown Espresso (Belltown - 4th & Wall)
with a portion of the group. At the photo/photoblog meeting everyone brings cameras and other toys and a few laptops.
A couple different views of members of the group clowning around - left image shows us trying mirror shots, right
view shows "people taking pictures of people taking pictures of people taking pictures," or something like that.
This is a view of the the last exit off the Alaska Way Viaduct before it dives under
Battery Street, disappears, and reappears as Aurora Avenue. View is looking straight south
along Western Avenue toward the rest of downtown.
Left view is looking south along Western right under the Aurora-Battery Street overpass right before Aurora goes into the Battery Street
tunnel. Right view is looking north at the other end of the median strip. In the right view, the area under the overpass is one of the places
where "pick up" labor folks hang out hoping for day jobs.
Walking north along Western one gets these late afternoon reflections off the buildings in Belltown. Right image buildings were facing west
and catching the late sun, left image buildings were facing east and looking somewhat forlorn.
Just north of Pike Place Market, on Western Avenue, is Gallery Mack. Inside presently is this functining, whimsical
wind sculpture along with a lot of other great pieces of art - none of which I can afford but a lot of which I wouldn't
mind having on display or on loan.
Here's another view of the "flying art" sculpture along with one of dancing creatures. The
gallery has windows into its art space from three sides of the plaza it's on - which has some
pretty nice views over the Viaduct and out into Elliott Bay - along with a nearby Tully's
Coffee Shop and some of the area's more interesting furniture and import stores.
An embroidered, Texas-style, fashion shoe for the ladies, found in one
of the stores along First Avenue in Belltown. No price but these kinds
of items usually have three digits before the decimal. Because this one
is strapless and has no security holding it on the foot, it would NOT be
a good shoe to use to "kick some butt," as the shoe would fly off.
More First Avenue silliness - manikin legs detached and used in a disarray to highlight
fashion hand bags - not sure of the result of this designer's idea.
Inside Metsker's new shop in the Pike Place Market area, also on First, with the Showgirls marquee reflected in the
window. Metsker's moved from First Ave. in Pioneer Square to the Pike Place Market area earlier this year. Haven't seen
any new clients in Metsker's old building, though. It seems like their business is maybe twice what it was when they
were further south by about a mile. The new space doesn't have as many nooks and crannies as their old space but
does have more tourists who drop in.
Just some fun captures of one of those "lightning" lights, this one being used to advertise "X Gym," a high-tech
muscle toning factory on Wall Street in Belltown.
From the West Seattle Bridge, a view of the harbor from inside a moving bus with camera on about one second exposure.
About two years ago there was a notice in "The Stranger" about new bus security cameras
which would be installed on Metro buses. The new buses which Metro has purchased
had these "holes" in the ceiling until recently, when they were filled in with these $7000
micro-security cameras. The left one points toward the driver and the right one points
toward the rear - this is at the rear exit. Just so you know.
Wide angle shot along Western Avenue just north of Steinbrueck Park with the condo on the right reflected in the
glass-sided building on the left. Seattle's Belltown, for being a relatively new settlement, has some eclectic and rather
interesting shops as well as a huge variety of condos, apartments and townhouses. Roughly 20,000 people live in this
"downtown" neighborhood.
Right at the end of the Pike Place Market area there's this new development overlooking Alaska Way Viaduct and the harbor. This view is
centered on the courtyard with the harbor on either side. Gallery Mack features some outstanding - and very pricey - modern metal and
glass sculpture, much of it which "works."
A view looking north along Western Avenue at Stewart Street - the "end" of downtown and the beginning of Belltown.
Under the Alaska Way overpass right before it goes beneath Battery Street is this street sculpture of concrete "waves."
This area is used by itinerant labor, who stand and wait for day jobs or week jobs. In the morning there are several
score of such would-be workers lining this area and along First Avenue at Stewart.
Right at the end of the Pike Place Market outside vendor area, after hours. The market closes at 6:00 pm and everything except the
cafes and restaurants are closed and the vendors pack up their vegetables, fruits, other consumables and art, clothing, etc., and
head home to return the next day. This is right where Pike Place merges into Western Avenue and a block away from where
Western splits again to create Elliott Avenue. The trees on the left are Steinbrueck Park. Peter Steinbrueck, Sr., was instrumental,
along with his son, now a city council member, in saving the Market in the 60's when development forces were pressing to
tear down the historic structure. The entire market complex is now on the National Register of Historic Places.
A few paces further north along Pike and we're at Western and Lenora. Sort of the beginning of Belltown and the interesting mix of
furniture and other outfitting stores along Western. Cost Plus, the store on the left, is an amazing import imporium - lots of good stuff
for cheap and lots of weird, hard-to-find stuff for a reasonable price. View is looking straight north and is a 360-degree pan.
Posted: Sun - July 18, 2004 at 12:08 PM
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Published On: Jul 04, 2005 05:41 PM
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Published On: Jul 04, 2005 05:41 PM