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Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Down in the Willamette...

We found the greatest store ever.


It was full of the kind of stuff I love to photograph. Fortunately the camera batteries died before I could drive Olaiya totally nuts.












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5 Comments:

At 9/05/2006 01:11:00 AM, Blogger Diane said...

The pile-o-doorknobs shot is really incredible. The dullish luster of the patinas, varied colors, juxtaposition and jumble of circular and linear shape, composition of knobs heading off into the upper right distance but yet focused on the lone burnished silver knob in center...I think it may be my favorite of all your photos.

The drinking fountain shot is quite good as well (esp. like the shadows & rust and angle of approach), with extra emotional impact: reminds me of the schools in which I both sat as a student and taught.

 
At 9/05/2006 08:05:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Johnboi that store looks like something out of the Laura Ingalls Wilder “Little House” books. It has a rustic charm whittled out of weathered time and tempered in simplicity. I'm not a nostalgic sort but it definitely has an earthy feel that connects with a part of me that longs for a slower version of this present life. All of your shots are fantastic because they’re unassuming and capture a quaint humility I can only associate with quiet country life. I apologize for this moment of softness, but perhaps I’m waxing so sentimentally because I’ve become somewhat disillusioned by city living and how fast things move. It’s easy to lose track of what life can mean in the bustle of commuter traffic and amid the deafening indifference of the average city dweller. More often than not I’m awakened to this loud reality with the clashing of trains outside of Emily’s and my Magnolia flat. What scares me the most is that I’ve become so accustomed to them that they sound like a normal part of our surroundings.

When I moved to Seattle I thought I would find a culture and sophistication that was lacking in the suburbs of Tacoma. But the more time I spend here the more I realize that life is more powerful when it’s taken at face value. That everything I thought I would become is equally as possible in the unpretentious kingdoms outside of the city limits.

“I suppose the pleasure of country life lies really in the eternally renewed evidences of the determination to live.”

~Vita Sackville-West, Country Notes~

Clay – A new age gangsta just tryin ta thug

 
At 9/05/2006 08:09:00 PM, Blogger Johnbai3030 said...

Thank you both. Clay, that's exactly how I felt the whole time I was there. Olaiya and I spent this afternoon sipping a post-tennis game drink and talking about how to get people to move down to Portland. We could start a community farm and renovate a ranch house to accomodate a restaurant (which would use the farm produce.) Any takers?

 
At 9/06/2006 12:41:00 AM, Blogger Diane said...

Sorry pal, outside of Portland and Corvalis, Oregon is way too redneck for my taste.

And even Portland, where I have lived and worked, is too provincial.

 
At 9/06/2006 05:48:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

My bags are already packed bro, metaphorically speaking. This isn’t an idea I plan to bandy about for the sake of mirth and good conversation. The city to me is a massive engine run on the souls of its citizens and it’s not a question “if” I’m going to get the fuck out but when. I’m bored to death of the same old same, the dull eyed resignation of this culture of haste, waiting impatiently for red lights to turn green. The illusion of enlightenment stretched thin over the carcass of glutted materialism. Fuck that.

Maybe one day people will see it’s not about the concrete, mortar, and steel but it’s about being able to honestly connect with people that will hold society together. I don’t feel like I can do that over noise progress.

I actually want to get the fuck out, do you?

“Cities force growth, and make men talkative and entertaining, but they make them artificial.”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson~

Clay – The hesitation before the final countdown to Armageddon

 

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