Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Mission Dolores

The Mission Church of Saint Francis of Assisi, commonly known as Mission Dolores, and the adjoining churchyard, where Alfred Hitchcock shot some scenes for the film 'Vertigo'.



Six-word Short Story

This is said to have been written by Hemingway. Some claim it is his best short story, in six words.

"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

More Streets of San Francisco

Downtown seen across the industrial areas south of Market.



Streets of San Francisco

A small house in Noe Valley with a long narrow driveway.

Back stairs of an apartment building in the Sunset neighborhood. Beautiful late afternoon hues.

The downtown skyline viewed over an empty lot overgrown with weeds.

A vacant parking spot. Hard to find in San Francisco.


Monday, July 28, 2008

A Matter of Inspiration

One can't tell when one will run out of original ideas. One can only hope that when that accursed day finally arrives, one may have recourse to other measures then available. It is conceivable, certainly, that by that fateful day one's computer will already have installed in it, or have access to, an idea generator that will provide original ideas at the click of a mouse or the tap of a key. One wonders whether such a thing may already exist.


In the meantime, one can continue to rely on one's faithful old dictionary or encyclopedia as sources, making word associations at random or maybe not so random.


teabag matchbook viability liability fraudulent conversion age of consent celestial spheres of influence economic downturn breakwater breakneck speed express train minutiae referential reverential providential daycare caregiver silk cravat white tie swallowtail whiteout blackout archive achievement connector surge protector Oscar Hotel Lima Peru factotum headstrong Gondwana continental drift Benguela current clone drone nomadic tribes travel document charge card charge field Occam's razor bedroom community bedroom privacy download upload forum bulletin board RSS feed instant messaging instant noodles bar sinister heraldic device lion rampant leopard passant double eagle field of gold cultural icons Byzantium Hagia Sophia Istanbul seraglio abduction Mozart Requiem charge coupled device conundrum panjandrum paranormal paradigm Mercator's projection Galileo Papacy imprimatur stamp of approval philately Johnny-come-lately (as in Hugo Chavez) et cetera.



Sunday, July 27, 2008

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Between Heaven and Earth

Old-time engravings have always fascinated me, and this one is magical in its medieval imagery. A traveler with a staff in his left hand has pierced the barrier at the joining of the Earth and the heavens. The flat earth is contained in a bubble or shell which also holds the stars, the moon, and the sun, all of which are seen together as connected to the terrestrial plain, with its plants and trees, mountains and rivers and cities.

The traveler's head and right hand are outside the bubble, reaching toward curved bands of celestial wonders in which clouds mingle with spheres and spoked wheels, and what looks like jagged stalagmites. Is he falling through to the heavens, and holding his hand out to prevent his complete exit from the earthly bubble, or is he striving to reach Paradise without having to undergo the pain of death?

One wonders what the artist's intentions were. But whatever the answer, this beautiful and enigmatic engraving compels our interest.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Rachmaninov's 2nd Symphony (excerpt)

Just sit back, relax, and let Rachmaninov's sumptuous melodies wash over you. Romanticism at its most gorgeous. Suitable for purposes of meditation and reflection. Even seduction.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

'And this is my beloved'

The third movement of String Quartet No. 2 by Aleksandr Borodin. Romantic, huh?

Shostakovich: Waltz from Jazz Suite #2

Here's some easy listening from Shostakovich, played by the Banda Sinfónica Universitaria de La Laguna of Tenerife, Canary Islands, conducted by Felipe Neri Gil Marrero.


Thursday, July 17, 2008

Nautical Words and Phrases

Here's a link to a glossary of some everyday words and expressions which have their origins in seafaring. You'll find them interesting, I'm sure, as I did.

http://www.fortogden.com/nauticalterms.html

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Layers of Light




More late afternoon images.

Millbrae 5:30PM

Took a little walk along a back alley in the suburban town of Millbrae this afternoon, and got a few compositions in yellow ochre and blue.



Tuesday, July 15, 2008

'Signore, ascolta'

This is one of my favorite arias from Puccini's "Turandot" -- 'Signore, ascolta' sung by Barbara Frittoli.

Hygiene - Personal




There are many things around the house that we tend to take for granted. In the past I had posted a few on this blog, and here I'm adding a couple more.

One is the familiar nail clipper, which I think is one of the cleverest of tools man has ever devised. Just think about it – before these came on the scene, how did we manage to trim our nails? Scissors? Pocket knife? Neither is as efficient and effective as the nail clipper.

The other item is perhaps less familiar. It is an earwax remover. It is purpose-made, so that we no longer have to bend paper-clips or hairpins for the job. Speaking from experience, I will say that it is a pleasure to use, and easy to clean.

Both of these items were manufactured in Germany. The clipper bears the J.A.Henckels name; the earwax remover is unnamed. I got them on our first trip to Europe in the 70's, and they have stood the test of time.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

"Don Juan"

Here's the first part of "Don Juan" by Richard Strauss, performed by the Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra, conducted by Philippe Jordan. One of Strauss's lushly beautiful tone poems, energetically played by talented young people.

Wisteria

It's the small things, I always say, that eat up so much of our time. The little chores and distractions which, when added together, will consume the better part of an hour, an afternoon, or a day.

Take for instance, what happened yesterday. I was out on the deck. Over the deck is the trellis, or arbor, which had been erected some years ago to provide shade on hot afternoons such as this one, of which we do not have many, at least not in this part of northern California, blessed as it is by cooling breezes that come over the coastal range from the Pacific Ocean. But I digress.

Two wisteria bushes have grown up along this trellis and the supporting posts, and their tough tendrils and vines have taken over most of the structure. Though the pretty blue flowers are pleasant to look at when they come out in the spring, they soon give way to a proliferation of rather unpleasant looking pods that hang like pendants from the vines. The pods look like large green pea pods, and often are heavy enough that when they fall, as they do from time to time on an unsuspecting neck or shoulder, the impact can be alarming.

Despite the heat of the day, I decided to remove as many of the pods as my enervated state could withstand, by plucking them down one or two at a time. I had gone through forty or fifty pluckings when I felt a sharp sting in the palm of my hand.

On close examination I found that a tiny splinter, no larger than a fourth of the size of this hyphen - had penetrated the tough (or what I had hitherto regarded as tough) skin of my palm, right there in the Plain of Mars, midway between the Heart Line and the Fate Line.

The splinter evidently came from the protective covering of the wisteria pod, and my mistake was to have grasped the pods without wearing gloves. Miraculously, for all my efforts at denuding the wisteria of its pods, I was pierced only once. In spite of its tiny size, and perhaps because it entered my flesh in a sensitive spot, this tiny splinter is very painful.

I went indoors, found one of my wife's tweezers, and tried to pluck out the offending splinter. It was not an easy job, because I am right-handed, and that was the hand in which the invader was embedded. In the course of several attempts at withdrawing the splinter, I succeeded in breaking it into two parts, and ravaging the skin around the point of entry, to the degree that blood was drawn, and what should have been a minor operation turned out to be more than that. In the end, only about half of the splinter was extracted. Afterwards I applied salve and found a large flesh-colored and rubbery-textured Band-Aid to cover the hideous gash.

The other splinter half is lodged in the palm, where it is likely to remain after the skin heals over it.

The whole point of this story is that an afternoon was wasted by good intentions, acting on an impulse, being sidetracked by an accident, and botching a repair job.


Thursday, July 03, 2008

Street Scenes

Here are some photos taken today in and around The Castro in San Francisco. How about those gas prices, huh?

The above were taken where Market and Castro Streets meet.

An interesting bit of architecture (right) on Church Street,
and a Victorian triplex a few doors down (below).

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Storyboard

A beautiful young widow. A scraping chair leg. A crafty relative. A cup of tea. A cigarette. A tearful scene. A rainy afternoon. A conspiracy. A sinister look. A satin cap. A stained bed sheet. A sly smile. A jade pendant. An alabaster elephant. A bamboo grove. A river scene. A pigtail. A sandalwood fan. A signed document. An opium pipe. A dark cloud. A bird's shrill call. A woman's guile. A paper kite. A careless remark. A flash of anger. A man's beard. A tearful outburst. A sense of failure. A public outcry. A baby's sniffles. A hot stove. A blue canopy. A cup of wine. A memorial plaque. A barefoot boy. A farmhouse. A favorite toy. A carved stone tablet. A secret meeting. A faithless servant. A shrewd lawyer. A sudden urge. A four-poster bed. A harsh reprimand. A furtive visitor. A black coach. A long journey. A distant city. A gathering storm.A foolhardy challenge. A younger brother. A flushed cheek. A stolen kiss. A hushed conversation. A hidden weapon. A light in a window. A cresting wave. A brass gong. An anguished scream. A drawn curtain. A thread of smoke. A dragonfly. A long wait. A second letter. A mosquito net. A stiff wind. A gray dawn.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Barenboim and Elgar's "Nimrod"

Here is Daniel Barenboim conducting the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in Edward Elgar's "Nimrod" from his "Enigma Variations".

Summertine in The City

A visit to San Francisco's North Beach-Chinatown
neighborhood netted some shots
on a particularly glorious afternoon. I'm uploading the photos
-- which are clickable to enlarge -- to this blog to give you a sense
of what a very attractive part of The City looks like
on a cloudless and fogless summer day.
The shot above was taken on Stockton Street
looking eastward to the Bay.
You can see part of the Bay Bridge and beyond,
the Oakland container terminal with its massive cranes.


Shoppers on Stockton Street in Chinatown,
not quite as busy as earlier in the day;

most of the shops are getting ready to close.

So now they've renamed Green Street to Beach Blanket Babylon Boulevard,
for the benefit of tourists who may be heading for this
'very San Francisco' revue in North Beach.


An impressive mural painted on the Stockton Street side
of the Chinese community hospital

(or at least that's what I think the building is).

And here the Transamerica pyramid, as much a symbol
of The City as the Eiffel Tower is to Paris,
sticking up over an apartment building next to the hospital.


Another shopper carrying the purchases
she has made for tonight's dinner.


A large billboard which is long past the time it should
have its tattered message replaced by another one.

A late afternoon look down Broadway
from Stockton Street.


Montgomery Street, the heart of the financial district: not much different
than that of many another North American city.


I love red cars.

Corner of Washington and Grant Streets. Bay Bridge in the distance.

Just a composition that caught my eye. I guess the light and
dark was what made me take a second look.


A man looks for his dog at the edge of
Washington Square Park on Columbus Avenue.


Bricks and mortar, drain pipes and
shadows shaped like pelicans.

Loungers in the Park, with a zero-emission trolley bus in back.

One way to enjoy a warm afternoon,

if chatting or reading is not your cup of tea.

They call this VW a cabriolet

Here on Columbus Avenue, the last rays of the sun 'strike
the Sultan's turret with a shaft of light'.