O, to be in England

Another dream. A cinematic one with a strong, if disjointed, story line. We are guests in a small cottage or hotel on the south coast of England. The front porch opens out on a wild bay with extreme tides. (Think 'Wuthering Heights'.) There is a small parlor furnished in a vaguely Edwardian style – lace curtains over the mullioned windows, antimacassars on the armchairs, a potted plant or two (an aspidistra perhaps?). I help another guest move a loveseat from one sunny room to a cozy crowded library where several guests sit and chat. Our hosts are an elderly couple we appear to have known a long time. One of the guests is a white-bearded sea-captain à la the old actor Monty Woolley, whose ancient Austin or Morris van I drive downtown. Yet another is a handsome young politician with a ready smile and charming ways. (The fellow in this dream may have been inspired by television coverage of a certain embattled governor currently in the news.) He smokes incessantly and crushes cigarette stubs on the polished parquet floor. There are dozens of crushed stubs all over the place. This part is so vivid that in my dream I even smell the cigarette smoke. A younger woman by my side has a deep tan and great legs. She objects to the pall of cigarette smoke in the air. A maid sweeps up the butts, but the smell lingers. The hotel guests all go down to the beach as the tide recedes with remarkable speed. There is a beautiful sunset. I point out to my companion the marks on the cliff face left by the tides or the Deluge. We feel anxious about the return of the tide, which could come about at any time. People are swimming in the bay, carelessly ignoring the danger. The politician is hitting on the young woman. I use the van to drive a guest into town. A police car passes by as I struggle with the unfamiliar gearshift. The rear of the van is open, and its interior is filled with all manner of junk including an elephant's tusk and a kettledrum (this is the sea-captain's old van). On return to the parlor it is teatime. Smoke billows from a small oven left unattended. I help put the fire out, and a lady rescues the food. There is a sound of thunder, and rain begins to pelt against the windows. I turn to my companion to offer my opinion of English weather. She smiles. The End.

(Will there be a sequel?)

Happy New Year to all.

***

Dreamin' in the Cyber-Age

Of late, there have been dreams. Some vivid, others bland. Bleak and barren landscapes may merge into vibrant colorful ones. Seldom does rain appear, but when it does, it is a cleansing rain. People show up from a distant past, doing unexpected things in settings that are either vaguely familiar or indefinably strange. The skies offer an ominous backdrop, as in a Dutch old master painting.

The scene is a foreign city with cobblestone streets. In a restaurant a waiter spills coffee on my lady companion. No matter, there is no damage and she is unfazed. In the distance, bombed-out buildings loom, skeletal silhouettes against a gray sky. Could this be Berlin 1945, Sarajevo 1992? In dreams geographical exactitude does not matter.

We dine in the dim glow of candles. A mariachi band plays nearby. But they play Mozart. And then we are in a boat and there is a high wind that impedes our progress, though the water is tranquil. A bird of dark plumage appears making loud noises, then flies away.

The boat floats into a tangle of papyrus reeds. There is an amorous interlude before we find ourselves on the edge of a high cliff. The mountain is unstable and there is a long flight of steps leading down to a green valley. We fly, actually fly, down the steps, our feet not touching them. Someone or something is pursuing us. A dark cloud hovers overhead.

Now a river must be crossed. We hold hands. She has changed into a dress and high heels. She greets a friend she has not seen in a long time. We part.

In my hand I have a mouse, which I click. Suddenly the scene changes to what it had been an instant before. Her friend is no longer there. We are still holding hands.

And so I awaken.

* * *

Bach Christmas Oratorio - Macau Orchestra and Chorus

A fine performance in the church of São Domingo in Macau.

O Holy Night

This Christmas song has a special meaning for me, for it always reminds me of my father's last Christmas, before he passed away at the very young age of 42. Here it is sung by Placido Domingo, Jose Carreras and Diana Ross




Cantique de Noël

Minuit, chrétiens, c'est l'heure solennelle,
Où l'Homme-Dieu descendit jusqu'à nous
Pour effacer la tache originelle
Et de Son Père arrêter le courroux.
Le monde entier tressaille d'espérance
En cette nuit qui lui donne un Sauveur.
Peuple à genoux, attends ta délivrance.
Noël, Noël, voici le Rédempteur,
Noël, Noël, voici le Rédempteur!

* * *

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Joggers on the Promenade Deck

A young woman, hair flying, is being pursued by a guy in a red shirt.

Colores de Mazatlan

Eight Mexican Days

Photos of a holiday cruise in the Mexican Riviera. Above is our ship, the Oosterdam, and below the tenders being lowered to take passengers ashore at Cabo San Lucas.

Note the curvature of the earth on the distant horizon.
Or is it just the distortion caused by my lousy camera lens?

Water taxis and glass-bottom boats share the marina at Cabo San Lucas with luxury ocean-going yachts from as far away as Seattle and the Cayman Islands.





Three cruise ships showed up almost simultaneously at each of the three ports of call. The other two were the Carnival Elation and the Norwegian Star (above and below). So there were close to six thousand tourists in town on each of the days we were in port. On the hull of the Norwegian Star can be seen the shadow of the twin stacks of our ship, the Oosterdam.




I call this photo "The Mazatlan greeters". The large musician figures on the pier are probably constructed of papier mache over a wire framework. They aren't as ominous as the live Mexican soldier brandishing an assault rifle as he stands in the shade between two of the figures. The guy in the red shirt and shorts on the left is a returning turista.

A powerboat speeds across the quiet waters of Mazatlan bay.

The promenade deck of the "Oosterdam" where I spent a couple of relaxing afternoons on a deck-chair with a good read at hand, even though there wasn't much reading done.

Make Someone Happy

'Tis the season, so why don't we . . .

Chiaroscuro - Pomeriggio-SanMatteo

A pyramidal composition captured from my car window.

Ol' Man River - Soviet Style

I had never heard of Muslim Magomaev until today, when I discovered this while browsing YouTube for a good version (other than Paul Robeson's) of Jerome Kern's "Ol' Man River". He's a Soviet era singer who was very popular in his time. He passed away on October 25, 2008 at age 66.

obituary

In this song, though some purists might find the tempo slow, and the accent a bit off-putting, Magomaev gives it his all, doing wonders with his remarkable voice.

Take a listen.




"Old Man River"

Composer: Jerome Kern
Poem:Oscar Hammerstein

Let me go 'way from de Mississippi,
let me go 'way from the white men boss.
Show me dat stream called de river Jordan.
Dat's de ol' stream dat I long to cross.


Ol' man river,
dat ol' man river.
He must know sumpin'
but don't say nothin'.
He jus' keeps rollin',
he keeps on rollin'
along.


He don't plant 'taters,
he don't plant cotton.
And dem dat plants 'em
is soon forgotten.
But Ol' man river,
he jus' keeps rollin'
along.


You an' me, we sweat an' strain,
body all achin' an' racked wid pain.
"Tote dat barge!" "Lift dat bale",
git a little drunk an' you land in jail.


Ah gits weary
an' sick of tryin'.
Ah'm tired of livin'
an skeered of dyin'...
But Ol' man river,
he jus' keeps rollin'
along.

The Ant

Resting my hands on the parapet I saw a tiny moving thing that seemed to be a bit longer than an ant. On closer examination I saw that it was in fact an ant. But at first glance it had seemed longer because in its jaws it was carrying the carcass of one of its fellows.

I watched its progress across the top of the parapet as I did warm-ups before taking a walk. Its motions were curious. It seemed uncertain which way to turn; first it headed for the near edge, then the far edge, then right, and then did an about-face towards the left.

Unlike the stream of ants in single file that is usually seen at picnics and such, this solitary insect bearing the burden of its deceased brother seemed to be without purpose. There must have been no scents of other ants for it to follow, no means to message one another across antennae upon meeting in the way ants do.

It seemed quite lost. Yet it was also unable or unwilling to discard the carcass held in its mandibles. The carcass must have been equal in weight to its own, or close thereto, if it had lain desiccated for some time before having been recovered.

I could not wait to see where the carcass-bearing ant would finally go, but I hope that it found a proper resting place for its burden.

An old red Beetle

Just had a little bit of innocent fun using Photoshop Elements.

Writing for the Web

Here's some worthwhile information for the beginning blogger

http://www.useit.com/alertbox/9703b.html

Now to find the time to learn html.

Ah Chu He Say

Something came along only in recent days, but it has become an annoyance of notable concern. Upon arising, the second thing I do is to boot up the computer and check the mailbox. It's a daily ritual, like going outside to pick up the newspaper (yes, we still subscribe for home delivery), but it can extend into a long session of browsing the web and reading the blogs, though now that the election cycle is completed things have become quieter.

The annoyance referred to in the previous paragraph (which is not something you often find in these postings—I mean, the reference to an item in a previous paragraph) is this:

After sitting at the keyboard for a minute, I suddenly explode in a series of violent sneezes, six or seven or even more, which are immediately followed by watery eyes and a runny nose requiring the application of many pieces of absorbent facial tissue.

It may be the allergy season, or dust emerging from the many hiding places in the keyboard or the humming CPU sitting atop the desk, but the annoyance is that the sneezing has itself become a component of the daily ritual. Maybe it's time for a through cleanup with compressed air. Or, maybe it's a sign from the heavens that I had better spend less time reading all those recycled jokes, and going outside for some fresh air.

Tejon Pass, Tanker Truck & Giovanni Arnolfini

A rather ordinary view of a stainless steel tanker at a gas station 4,166 feet up in the Tejon_Pass, which is the start of a precipitous descent from the Tehachapi range to the Central Valley of California to the northwest. What may be interesting is that (1) the still photo was taken with a small video camcorder with a 3 megapixel imager, (2) the reflected image on the tanker side would suggest a flat desert landscape rather than the surrounding mountains, or even the photographer in a rented SUV, and (3) if you are ever driving on a freeway behind one of these polished steel tankers, the image reflected on the convex, oval-shaped rear panel of the tank can be disorienting, providing a wide-angle and distorted view of your own vehicle, as in a funhouse mirror, or the mirror shown in the back of the famous painting by Jan van Eyck called "The Marriage of Giovanni Arnolfini and His Wife". The Arnolfini_Portrait

Pictures from Past Travels

Vienna - Stadtbahn passenger

Heidelberg - The Hotel Ritter

Heidelberg - The Castle Entrance

Heidelberg - The River Neckar

Horseback riding

Just south of San Francisco, on a promontory overlooking the Pacific Ocean, with the Marin hills in the distance, and not a shred of fog to hide the view, a young woman rides her horse on a bridle way through the ice plants. To the right, behind the power pole, a container ship from the Far East heads towards the Golden Gate bound for the vast terminal complex in Oakland, across the Bay. A few clouds dot the late afternoon sky, and for a change there is no wind.

Pilobolus

Someone sent me this link a while back. An amazingly talented ensemble, no?

The Excelsior

[click to enlarge]

A view from the top of Faxon Street in The Excelsior neighborhood of San Francisco. Like many another street in the City, this one is so steep that residents' cars have to be parked at right angles to the curb [the one I'm standing on; the opposite curb has a 'No Parking at Any Time' sign]; this as a precaution against brake failure and runaways. In the background is Mt. Davidson, with the large cross visible on its peak, where Easter sunrise services are held. Some of your conservative talk show hosts may decry the left-wing liberal politics of the Board of Supervisors, same-sex marriage, sanctuary for illegal immigration, the homeless population, and various bizarre Barbary Coast aspects of this great city, but the majority who live here would not want to live anywhere else.

Especially on a day like this.

A Look Backward

This gives us a little peek back into an earlier era. The scene is Fourth Avenue in San Mateo, California, 1985. The time is about 6:45am. This is where I took the early morning bus to work in San Francisco. The Chevron gas station is no longer there, and neither is the Mobil station across the street. (I'm still here, thank Heaven.)

This Belongs to Us

Cloud Shadows

An Abode of Good Cheer

Drove up to Golden Gate Heights in The Inner Sunset neighborhood of San Francisco, just before the fog came in from the ocean a mile or so away. Saw this house, whose striking paint job cannot help but attract the attention of anyone passing by. Whoever lives here must be of a lighthearted and cheery temperament, I suspect.

The Japanese Maple

Visitacion Views

Being it was such a lovely day, I drove in to San Francisco. Had my camcorder with me, could take stills, and here are a couple of them.

In the distance are the towers of downtown San Francisco. The big blocky building is, of course, the Bank of America, and next to it, the Transamerica Pyramid.


A view up a dead-end street off of Arleta Avenue in the Visitacion Valley. I'd call it your typical San Francisco townscape, with all the stret signs and jam-packed parking, and the pastel-colored houses.

The Leaves Turn

A New Day?

The nation made its choice yesterday, and we have a new President. Senator Barack Obama, the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas, is to be our new Chief Executive. We wish him every success in his administration.

He ran on a platform of change, and the people no doubt expects that there soon will come the promised changes. We trust that the changes will include real movement away from partisan intransigence, from profligate spending programs and deficits,and movement towards governance from the center, which has always been where our country longs to be.

A Leica shot

This is from a colorslide taken in 1984 with my Leica IIIf with a f/3.5 Elmar lens. There's something about a Leica lens photo that's quite distinctive, photographers say. I think so too.

Now I must get me down to our polling station to cast my ballot in what pundits call one of the 'the transformational elections' of all time in this country. We shall see.

Ascot Gavotte

The charming divertissement from "My Fair Lady".

Why don't they make musicals like that anymore?



Every duke and earl and peer is here
Everyone who should be here is here
What a smashing, positively dashing spectacle
The Ascot opening day

At the gate are all the horses
Waiting for the cue to fly away
What a gripping, absolutely ripping
Moment at the Ascot opening day

Pulses rushing, faces flushing
Heartbeats speed up, I have never been so keyed up
And second now they'll begin to run,
Hark a bell is ringing, they are springing forward look, it has begun

What a frenzied moment that was
Didn't they maintain an exhausting pace?
'Twas a thrilling, absolutely chilling
Running of the Ascot opening race

Ah, yes. Spam

I get dozens of e-mails every day from people I don't know (and really have no wish to know). They have names like Krishna Gillis, Abbot Gore, Dulcinda Lala, Chaim Haleluya, Hugibert Fulawa, Aguinaldo Germaine, Beulah Bottleby, Ferril Darnworth, Marcellus Stanton, Traci Winemonger, Roxanne Murieta. Some names are more imaginative than others, but the more outrageous ones cannot be reproduced here, for reasons of propriety.

What these individuals (if indeed that's what they are) are contacting me about covers a whole spectrum of products and services, many having to do with pharmaceutical items intended to enhance performance or correct specific dysfunctions. But there are others that try to sell computer software, fake Rolex watches, college degrees, or offer debt relief in these trying times. These e-mail messages are known as 'spam', which is the brand name for a kind of luncheon meat I recall eating around the time that World War II ended. It's still around, but you have to be careful, as the fat and salt content in Spam is way up there.

Getting thirty to forty spam messages in one day is not unusual, but here I may have myself to blame, as I use more than one e-mail account. My e-mail server has a spam guard that filters out what it suspects to be spam, and that's good. What's not good is that sometimes the filter doesn't only weed out spam; it may also throw good, legitimate e-mail messages into the Spam folder, and if I'm not careful, these may be trashed forever without having ever been read. Has happened, to my chagrin and that of friends.

So now I don't automatically empty the Spam folder, sight unseen. Instead I examine the senders' names carefully to make sure that among the phony e-mails there isn't one that I really should open and read.

A Riverboat ride

I made this short video about our boat ride on the Li River in South China last April.

There was a steady drizzle throughout the day, but that gave the scenery the very magical quality that you get in Chinese brush paintings, with the low clouds weaving through the fantastic peaks of the karst landscape.

Shanghai Market

Here's a video of a short visit to a food market in Shanghai, China, during our tour earlier this year.

Landscape, Autumn, Northern California

Belly Dancing

For a respite from the monotonous economic and election news, how about something different


Shunyata from Patrick on Vimeo.

Old House, New Front

This is a part of the front of an old building in San Mateo. The paint, windows, and utilities box look new.

A Thought for Today

Behold the child, by nature's kindly law,
Pleas'd with a rattle, tickled with a straw:
Some livelier play-thing gives his youth delight,
A little louder, but as empty quite:
Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage,
And beads and pray'r-books are the toys of age:
Pleas'd with this bauble still, as that before;
'Till tir'd he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er.

Alexander Pope – Essay on Man, Epistle II

Abstract Art

Took an out-of-focus picture and distorted it using some of the filters and tools in Photoshop Elements, which I'm still trying to learn. Here are the original photo, and the abstract 'art' that resulted from the experiment.

With a bit more work and added colors, I might be able to approximate one of those wonderful photos of the cosmos taken by the Hubble telescope.

Construction

It is dawn outside the parking garage, and already the construction crews are at work, hoisting great steel beams for the structure that will shortly become part of the hospital's new wing.
After my overnight stay, I am ready to return home for a shower and breakfast when the opalescent light and the silhouetted cranes catch my eye. With a 3x telephoto attachment on the old Nikon Coolpix 4500 I carry in the car, I grab this shot in between a parade of cars bearing construction workers and hospital staff to and from work. The night shift is over and the day shift begins.

The economy may be crumbling all across the world, yet here a splendid modern hospital is under construction, and as far as I'm concerned, it's a good metaphor that all will soon be right again.

Ghena Plays - Chopin Nocturne F Sharp, Op 15 No 2

More music for relaxation

Lawn Bowling

Here's a short 1 minute video of some friends at the San Francisco Lawn Bowling Club in Golden Gate Park. While the tournament was going on, there was a rock concert nearby that shattered the quiet of the lovely autumn afternoon. So I substituted some music for the horrendous background noise in the video.

Is that a sigh or what?

So. . . . I've refrained from commenting on the global financial meltdown, and been just waiting and waiting for some sign of recovery. And it came today.

I'm a cup-half-full kind of guy for the most part, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this Columbus Day surge will signal a steady return of confidence in the economy.

Highland Cathedral

I try to include interesting musical performances on YouTube that visitors to this blog might enjoy. This one, played by the Massed Bands of different countries, is called "Highland Cathedral." It was the tune played by the Hong Kong Police Band at the departure of the last British Governor, Chris Patten, when Hong Kong's sovereignty was returned to China on June 30, 1997. (It still brings tears to my eyes each time I hear it.)

(Allow a minute for the video to load, so that it will play seamlessly.)

We'll Always Have Paris

Okay, okay. So I'll admit it. I'm a sentimentalist. But 'Casablanca' remains my all-time favorite movie.

Bilbao, Spain

This was taken in the city of Bilbao in the Basque country of Northern Spain. Bilbao is today probably better known for its showpiece museum, the modern Guggenheim Bilbao, designed by Canadian-born architect Frank Gehry. The older part of the city, where the cathedral is, still possesses the charm of an earlier period.

The storefront's marble façade has been cleaned of graffiti, though some vestiges remain visible. The store sells things like microscopes, telescopes, and other devices of an optical nature, and accepts VISA and American Express as well as Eurocards.

The young woman employee busily wielding a mop at the entrance has begun her workday early, having just opened the glass doors. The man with a folded newspaper in his right hand appears to be waiting for someone or something. Or perhaps he is just standing there because he has nothing else to do.

The building is a modern one, but the wood panels on the second floor are badly weathered, displaying an underlay of shabby plywood. The second floor appears to be occupied by a business office of some kind. Reflected in the windowpanes are the buildings across the street, of which one is the cathedral, whose enormous Gothic rose window can be seen.

Music of the Andes

This is an original arrangement of a Bolivian song by a talented young musician. Sit back and enjoy.

How to get financing for a car

We recently heard this story from a friend who knows something about the financial crisis this country is undergoing.

A couple of years ago, a guy went from bank to bank to try and get a loan to buy a new car. His credit rating was lousy, and he was turned down each time.

He then decided to buy a house, and even with no down payment and his terrible credit record, he nevertheless got the financing to go ahead and become a homeowner. This was, of course, when home prices were sky-rocketing. Now, he could use the equity from his house, and go back and buy his car. And so he did. Instead of a Honda Civic, he went for a Lexus.

Ridiculous? Makes you wonder how many others with abysmal credit histories did the same sort of thing before the house of cards collapsed.

La Viuda Alegre

For those of us who are romantically inclined, 'Vilja' from Franz Lehar's "The Merry Widow" sung by an attractive young couple.

Dinner Dance

This past weekend we attended a dinner dance organized by our social club. There were over eighty people there, of which better than seven-eighths were seniors. The music was provided by a two-man group which I thought did a remarkable job.

The dance tunes were familiar ones from the years of our youth, stirring nostalgic responses as we filled the dance floor after dinner. The fact that the music makers were in our age group gave their performance an added fillip, for they interspersed the numbers with an occasional quiz about the music — which performer made the piece famous, in what film did it make its first appearance, in which year — and the audience participated with enthusiasm.

Considering that there were only two people making music, one with an amplified accordion and synthesizer, and the other on percussion (a third, the vocalist, was indisposed with a strep throat), the sounds that emerged in that large hall were full-bodied and varied. Clearly the advances in electronic audio enhancement have added a richer layer to two-man bands.

We shared a table with friends old and new. True to the solid manners of our generation, the ladies did not lack for dancing partners, however much their menfolk's aging joints may have preferred sitting to dancing. For, as we all know, it is the fairer sex that prefers that particular activity, and what can the guys do but surrender to that preference. Exercise is good, don't you know?

It was an evening warm with shared memories, which will likely increase in frequency as we enter the last quarter of our year.

Items of Interest

Several close friends have remarked upon the diversity of material that I have accumulated in three years of maintaining this blog. I feel honored and pleased that they took the trouble to comment. (They did not do so via the 'comment' feature at the foot of each entry, but that's fine.)

At inopportune moments when I can't jot them down, ideas may occur to me as possible subjects for blog postings. The old memory being less reliable than it was a few years ago, if I don't write the thoughts down right away, it's likely I won't recall them later.

But enough may slip randomly through when I am at the computer, as I am now, and these tidbits may suggest a Google search or two. One thing will lead to another, and soon, with a bit of effort and a touch of luck, the tiny thought could grow into something worth posting.

The Internet can be a marvelous resource to help overcome writer's block.

Just think about it.

Rachmaninov Prelude Opus 32 No.5

A beautiful piece beautifully played

Tough shopping

Shopping at the local supermarket this morning, I overheard the following conversation between two men, presumably strangers, who looked to be about seventy years old:

First Man - "I can never remember which of these brands I'm supposed to get for the wife."

Second Man - "Yeah, it's always tough doing the shopping for a woman, even if it's your own mother. There's always a fifty-fifty chance you're gonna get it wrong."

Hard to disagree with that gem of wisdom.

Siempre en mi corazón

A familiar tune from when we were young, played to an appreciative audience.

Anniversary

It's been five years almost to the day that I have posted tidbits on this blog. Starting out as "The Daily Muse", perhaps an overly optimistic name, it morphed subsequently into its current form as "The Occasional Muse."

Tried to keep my entries as mostly original ones, but I have resorted to linking to other blogs or websites when appropriate, and quoted the works of others as well. More recently the links have been to musical pieces which are now so abundant on YouTube, and which are often so charmingly performed by little known individuals or groups. Providing the pleasure of a musical interlude now and then, when I can't seem to offer up any original words or images.

Photos of the places to which we have traveled have made their appearance, either in the blog itself, or linked to a photo-hosting site. Some early photos were lost when one such site shut down. Maybe one day I'll repost them. Maybe.

The subject of this stream of reminiscences is of course Time, as stated in the masthead. For those of us who watch calendars and clocks (and this means everybody), Time becomes ever shorter with age. (References to this sad fact appear frequently in this blog, don't you know?)

Projects that had been set for myself, as outlined in some of the earlier postings, have yet to be completed. There are many reels of old movies, scores of video-cassettes, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of old photos, that await digitizing and converting to DVD. A catalog of all my oil paintings will have to be prepared if one day I am to have a retrospective exhibition (I'm not even sure the names of the people who bought my early work are still known).

My camera collection has also to be catalogued and appraised. A big task. And the biggest of all is my library. There are books all over our house, including in the garage. Many of these need to be boxed and given away.

There would, should, could be Time to do all that stuff. Maybe next month. Or next year.

The warm weather has given way in these parts to a balmy Fall. The leaves are beginning to turn.

And seven years ago tomorrow, on just such a day as this, America was attacked by Islamic religious fanatics. We will not forget. Never forget.

O soave fanciulla

Siegfried Horn Call

This is an impressive young musician with a big sound.

Photo Album

Here's a link to some of my photo albums on Webshots.com

gentilhombre

A Home Run

The Vice-Presidential nominee for the Republican Party, Alaska Governor Sarah Palin, spoke at the convention tonight (September 3) , and made a wonderful impression on the conventioneers, and likely on the voters as well. Mayor Rudy Giuliani, who made the keynote speech just before Governor Palin's, was also very effective in his own inimitable way. (By contrast, the Democratic campaign's rejoinder sounded a mite ill-humored.)

Tomorrow it will be Senator John McCain's turn to speak at the convention.

(P.S. I said before that I have been trying to keep politics out of this blog. But really it's quite difficult not to get caught up in the excitement of it. After all, that's what this country is all about, and there's such a lot at stake.)

Late Afternoon

Possible subjects for painting

A Place in the Country

In the hot stillness of a September morning, in the hills not far from the thriving community of Walnut Creek in California, a man in a red shirt and straw hat tends his vegetable garden. Oh, you can't see him? Click on the photo to enlarge it. He's there in that fenced-in area in the lower left. The fence is to keep out the deer and the raccoons, and the occasional mountain lion.

Green Beetle

This one looked so pretty sitting there in the morning sun that I just could not resist taking its picture. The license number has been blurred to protect the innocent.

McCain's VP Pick

Much as I have been trying stay away from political topics, I think Republican candidate John McCain's pick of Alaska Governor Sarah Palin to be his vice-presidential running mate will prove to be a really smart move. Last night's big show at the Democratic convention in Denver, fireworks and all, and Senator Obama's stirring speech, should quickly be eclipsed by what follows next week at the Republican convention. It will be an exciting couple of months ahead for this country.

A Touch of Consolation

On this hot afternoon here in the Bay Area, I thought the soothing melodies of Liszt's Consolation No.3 with Horowitz at the keyboard will provide a cool antidote.

Vila Nova de Gaia

A tranquil early morning scene scene on the Douro river, Portugal.
On the far bank are some of the famous name port wine houses located in the town of Vila Nova de Gaia.

Theme and Variations

The above is the original photograph, and below are three variations done with Photoshop Elements. The subject is a sylvan hillside in Contra Costa County. I think the middle one will make a good subject for a painting. Agree?

Hindsight

We must reach farther back
with each passing day
to seek out the vague shapes
of what were once
immediately
recognizable

Demo VEEP Choice

I try not to post political items on this blog (not because politics does not interest me, because it does), but because there are already so many blogs out there that offer nothing but politics.

Last night presumptive Democratic presidential candidate Senator Barack Obama picked Senator Joseph Biden to be his running mate. The party's convention takes place next week in the mile-high city, Denver. It promises to be interesting.

Then it will be Republican Senator John McCain's turn to announce his own running mate. That should be very interesting as well. As will the Republican convention next month. And the presidential and vice-presidential candidates' debates will follow.

As the election cycle heats up along with the political rhetoric, the weather here in northern California has cooled a bit with the fog creeping in "on little cat feet," in the words of the poet.

Shall I compare thee . . .

to a Summer's day

Easy Bookshelf

I stumbled across this do-it-yourself video demonstrating how to make a simple bookshelf. Suitable for a college dorm, maybe, if you're moderately handy with tools.

Glurge and Such

For some time I have been getting a large dose of what's known as 'glurge', enough to give any healthy person diabetes.

Here's the snopes.com definition of glurge

So, my friends, if you read this, do please give me a break.

Flowerbed, Evening Sky

The sky looked so beautiful that I just had to get some shots. The one with the hummingbird was most fortuitous.

Summer Fog

click to enlarge

Just south of San Francisco, the bedroom community of Daly City lies partly covered by a blanket of summer fog blown in from the Pacific. You can imagine what it must be like up ahead in The City itself for the unsuspecting tourists in tank tops and shorts, shivering as they wait at Powell and Market to board the cable car for Fisherman's Wharf.

Queima das Fitas, Coimbra

At graduation in the University of Coimbra in Portugal, the students sing their sad farewells.

SFMOMA

Visited the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art today to see the Frida Kahlo show, the Logan Collection of Chinese Contemporary Art, and the photographs of Lee Miller. They did not allow photographs inside, so I took some outside the galleries. Went with my wife and our granddaughters. Everyone enjoyed the art.