A Lonely Summer

If I used to close my eyes
I would still hear
muffled voices.

If I used to sleep at night
I would still see
faces.

If I used to shout out loud
I would still hear
echoes.

But the echo has grown so faint.
These ears strain to hear again.
These eyes see only nothingness.
This place is as a ghost.

If I used to be alone
I would still insist on it.

If I used to laugh or cry
I would still be
comforted.

If I used to stare
out the window
I'd take in the silence.

But no, things have changed.
My sight is all faded.
Color comes with you
and you've been gone so long.

Portola Springs

March 13th, 2009.




Is there still wilderness in this county?


I had dreams once
of a place to the west
It was bleak
and beautiful.

But it's all been paved over
It's all black but there's no night
I've driven to the corners
But I can't find the end of it.

Maybe it was once
like I saw in my mind.
But people came
and years passed.

It traps me
Though I may run
I know it will find me
No one can hide.

I just want to feel young again
To see something new.
But places are being cloned
and I've seen it before.

I long to be happy when old
to be in peace.
But I fear by then,
silence is obsolete.

The Neighborhood

Life has been interesting these days. Best summarized as follows.

Six weeks ago:

Employed: Yes

Reliable Transportation: Yes

Miles driven per week: 330

Free time: Not so much

The past two weeks:

Employed: 5 hours/week

Reliable Transportation: No

Miles driven per week: See previous answer

Free time: 24/7

I know better, after knowing Jesus for 10 years now, than to call it coincidence and strip it of meaning and purpose. I know better than to panic and become desperate. This is to focus me and hone my purpose.

Remember just a few entries ago when I wrote about moving across the country? Welcome to my innermost thoughts. I thought I was long gone back to Pittsburgh, PA, the home of my family. I was already looking for jobs and apartments out there.

Well God has a funny way of speaking to us and working in our lives. You'd think that once I was laid off at work, that it would seem like a sign that I'm free to go, right?

Au contrare, mon frere. Since that day, it's been more clear than in quite some time past that I am exactly where He wants me. Just like in all those stories I heard in church and at Bible school, God is using this uncertain time to prove that He is our biggest certainty. I've seen enough money come my way to take care of all my bills, with just enough to spare. I've had time to slow down from the busy Southern California way of life and replace it with rest.

I've been able to do things I had always thought about doing, but fell by the wayside. I've been recording music. I finished reading a novel last night. I've been sleeping in. I've been taking pictures.

I found some beautiful horse trails right here in the neighborhood I live. I got to take a late afternoon walk and just explore and be free of any commitments or deadlines to meet. It has given me a new appreciation and comfort with the area I live in. The camera came along, of course. It was restful, and here is a sampling of shots that I got. It almost felt like fall, even in this mild west coast weather!

From Saturday's Mountain Drive: A Prayer

I am filled with your good pleasures:
Sun behind Jacinto,
skies over Gorgonio,
shadow painting on desert rocks,
endless peaks watching over cities,
a chill from altitude.

I see now
that you are in the barren as well as the flourishing.
Not a corner can I look without seeing you there.

Let me use my eyes and ears
my hands and feet
my fingers and toes
my flesh and bone
my strength and sweat
my soul and mind
my words and deeds
my love and longing,
to make you all the more visible.

Turn It Off

This picture was taken at Hume Lake camp in 2008. It represents a time of change, refocusing and renewal. It definitely was also a time for all of us (students and leaders alike) to "turn off" all the distractions and busyness of life and take a rest. This was during worship time. For me it represents the spirit of the poem below.

When you just want the phone to ring
put it down
turn it off
open the Bible and start to read.

When you just want someone to answer
put it down
turn it off
close your eyes and take a knee.

When all you want is that one person
ask yourself:
"Would this person die for me?
Or would they do even less for me?"

Reconsider the pursuits of your heart.
Redirect the objects of your affection.
Invest in what is eternal.
Seek the face of Jesus.

The Golden Hour

In photography circles, the "Golden Hour" is the name for the time just after sunrise and just before sunset where the sun is low on the horizon and casts a golden light on everything. This is unofficially regarded as the best time to take photos.

I could go on, but as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

An Authentic Question

One day, soon after moving to Orange County, I thought about the state of my life and these exact words came to me as I drove past this spot. 

9-20-07

Doesn't your life change completely
when you move across the country?
Or at least move place to place
with hundreds of miles between?

No, I've found that life only stays the same
as long as you stay the same.
You always reap what you sow
you always receive what you give
and in life, you always get out of it
what you put into it.

A Necessary Evil

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

¹ To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven: 

       ² A time to be born, 

And a time to die; 

      A time to plant, 

And a time to pluck what is planted; 

       ³ A time to kill, 

And a time to heal; 

      A time to break down, 

And a time to build up; 

       ⁴ A time to weep, 

And a time to laugh; 

      A time to mourn, 

And a time to dance; 

       ⁵ A time to cast away stones, 

And a time to gather stones; 

      A time to embrace, 

And a time to refrain from embracing; 

       ⁶ A time to gain, 

And a time to lose; 

      A time to keep, 

And a time to throw away; 

       ⁷ A time to tear, 

And a time to sew; 

      A time to keep silence, 

And a time to speak; 

       ⁸ A time to love, 

And a time to hate; 

      A time of war, 

And a time of peace.

Rain, and all our seasons, are a necessary evil.

Black & White

I wish right now
that all memories were black & white.
That they all took place in the fall
on a Sunday
watching football.

That the smell of noon dinner
permeated them all
that hooded sweatshirts and jeans
were worn into cool October weather.

That the trees in the back yard
and across the street
were failing to keep their leaves.

I wish all memories were black and white.
They are not colder, but somehow warmer.
Then we look to the other senses for memory.

Another Comparison Shot

In the first-ever post on this blog, I used the photo on the left. I revisited the spot one week ago today and took this almost identical shot, except the seasons were different! This makes it a completely different photo. 

More proof of why I prefer the "colder" season of Southern California.

All Things Come to An End

The end of the tracks, in Brea, California.

All things come to an end

But none of us know when.

If you don't know what's around the bend,

remember that all things come to an end.

We cling too tightly to that which we have

assuming it was something we always had.

But we forget we lived independently

not knowing that ever we were in need.

We dread the change and we dread the new

being so familiar with what we're used to.

And we fear the most what we can't control

blind to see our crutch: the old.

Before every beginning, another thing was ending.

Before every divine appointment, there was a disappointment.

Lying before you is a path brand new

And now you are free to do whatever you want to.

Don't shy away

and don't be afraid.

Seek to pray

and find the right way.

This is your time

and this is your chance

to do something sublime

and to make a difference.

All things come to an end

But none of us know when.

If you don't know what's around the bend,

remember that all things come to an end.

Speaking of Rain...

This is why I like winter so much in Southern California.

You may remember the top picture from this entry in July.

I very much prefer the clouds, green hills, cool weather, clear days and occasional rain of winter compared to the neverending brown, heat, lack of clouds and haze in the summer!

He is like the rain

You are like the rain
bringing dead things back to life

Saved in the Notepad of my phone - Sunday, May 30, 2010

President's Day 2010

"They're just showing off."

Though this was a holiday, getting a day off work was not my first thought for the day. It was "how am I not going to eat anything?" I had just started the Master Cleanse, and all I could eat/drink was water and the special lemonade for the cleanse.

But beyond that, the entire day was open. My roommate Jon can be very spontaneous, and when I suggested a trip to the mountains, it may have been only a few minutes before we were in the car driving there.

I took my (other) roommate's digital SLR camera and a 20 oz container filled with my Master Cleanse drink.

As we headed up Mountain Ave to Mount Baldy, suddenly traffic (the little that there was) stopped and the road was blocked. Apparently a rescue was taking place and the road wouldn't be opened for some time. So we had to change our plans.

To the farther mountain range we headed! This one I knew very little about and was thrilled to see new beautiful spots.

We took some extremely scenic roads, and then we ended up in this region. We parked and started walking, and I started snapping pics.

The way down was beautiful as well, and it was a very fun day for both of us. We were very pleased that we decided to be spontaneous. The day off felt like a very restful day.

I never regret a mountain adventure.

No Man Is An Island

Every little thing I do, there is a consequence.

No man is an island.

This little rock had a story when it landed in the sand, in reach only by the high tide. Each subtle wave would wash over it, then go back to sea. Each time a little bit of sand would be blocked by this stone. After enough waves, one small canyon in the sand was created. Then another small one began to form. Then another. Before long, there was this vast network of lines, rivers and ridges, all springing from this small stone.

Despair not. You have a purpose yet. You may feel like a small stone that was thrown into the sand. But be careful of your actions. Each one has a consequence. And who knows but God where it will lead?

As Often As You Can

Escape as often as you can.

Drive.

Find a place where it is quiet. Turn off your music. Turn off your phone.

Talk to God. Empty your heart. Return to square one.

Ask Him what is most important in your life. He will show you.

Stay there. Stay there.

Start walking. Find a path. Make yourself work a little.

You will find something interesting. Take a picture of it.

Put it on your wall at home. Put it on your computer's desktop.

Keep the memory of your escape nearby. Let it take you away. Let it remind you what you learned when you were there.

What is most important in your life?

In Keeping With Tradition...

Taken on 35mm film with a Canon AE-1 Program.

To keep going with my theme, here's another picture from Vantage Pointe. This was the first time I had ever been up there. Clouds were heavy, winds were chilly, and it added up to feel quite far away from the city, though we were quite stuck in the middle of miles of concrete. It is a small section of hilly escape. I think I've come here over 10 times since I discovered it.

The West

This is what I thought California would look like.

When I first moved here, I was a little surprised. Orange County was much more city-like than I expected. One night during my first summer, I was on top of a hill at dusk, and saw the mountains and sky bathed in purple light and wrote something like this:

California, I've searched for you but couldn't find you. You have deceived me. But for this one night, you are exactly what I expected.

Well tonight was another night like that. I was driving at dusk, and I saw the purple sky, the mountains glowing, and the moon was rising just over them. It was just too perfect. This is the west. Away from all the concrete is a land of grand mystery and wilderness. It's that land that I dreamt of seeing in California. I'm grateful for the chance to see it some nights even when I don't seek it out.

This pic was taken from Vantage Pointe, one of my favorite spots that I know of.

The Next-Door Neighbors

It looks like this right now.

I moved away from Pennsylvania for the first time in 2005. I came home for the whole summer, then went back to Chicago for the fall semester.

In the summer of 2006, I lived in Chicago. I came home in May and in August.

In 2007, I moved to California. I was home in May, September, and October.

In 2008, I surprised the family by showing up at the 4th of July party at my parent's house.

In 2009, I made it home at the end of July.

It is 2010. I have not been home since December.

Every year, getting to go to Southwestern PA in the summer is refreshing. It's a break from busyness. It is quiet, it is beautiful. The air is fresh. The stars light up the night sky. The paths in the woods are all overgrown. Usually I have a bonfire in the yard with friends. It is country living, and it's perfect. I miss it right now.

This picture was near the end of one of my walks through the woods. Being that the paths truly are overgrown in the summer, I tend to find my way back differently every time. This time I emerged in the field next to our house.

This was taken with a generic wide angle/macro/zoom lens on my Canon AE-1 film SLR. The extreme vignetting on the edges is completely real, not added digitally. Just a few steps after taking this picture, I changed lenses again and put this one in my pocket. A few minutes later I put my foot up on a rock, and this lens fell out of my pocket and bounced off a rock. After a lot of fiddling with it, it finally works again. But I've moved on to other lenses. :)

And one more to complete the trifecta...

And so I went on a return trip to Evanston in the spring of that year. This time I took my buddy Tony, who is also a photographer. We got more great shots on this trip, but I knew I had to revisit the bridge to see the difference a few months makes. Behold!

I promise tomorrow I will resume posting pictures from somewhere else.

More from Evanston

As promised in the previous post, here is another photo from Evanston. This was the bridge that I crossed on the L before getting off at the final stop on the great Chicago train system. This one does have a little color left, to show you just how bleak it was that day.

Evanston

Note: the picture is at the bottom of this entry. I feel the story lends itself to showing it at the end.

This was one of my favorite adventures ever. Why is it that the cold makes such a memory?

We're back to 2007. My last semester in Chicago. A Thursday with one morning class, chapel, and the rest of the day left for exploring. And explore I did.

The U-Pass was one of the best parts about living in Chicago. It was included in my room & board for the semester. It allowed me to ride public transportation as often as I wanted. This includes the buses and the "EL" elevated train/subway system.

So this Thursday, I decided I wanted out of the city. I wanted to see if it was un-city-like way at the far end of the L. This took an hour by train, though it was just 12 miles. But Chicago is so dense that 12 miles makes a big difference. 

So I went from downtown (A) to Evanston (B).

Or from the loop to the far north, the end of the Purple Line.

So I got way out of the city. Before the last stop, out the window I noticed that the train crossed on a bridge over a river, which looked like solid ice at this time of year.

I stepped off the train, and while it was still a populated area, now it felt like a town, not a city. I felt the rush of adventure, and started walking.

This was one of those walks where I got so many good pictures that I will inevitably post more from the same day. As I was wandering aimlessly, I decided to go east and see what the beach looked like in this area during winter.

I finally got to Lake Michigan, and this is what it looked like. Bleak, cold, gray and beautiful. The cold Chicago wind was blowing. The sand was snow. From the sand/snow to the water to the sky, it was quite a monochromatic scene.

Look for another picture from this walk tomorrow.

The woods of Pennsylvania.

This is something I wrote when I still lived in Chicago. I was longing for the quiet of Pennsylvania (like I still do oftentimes). This picture was taken on a walk just about a minute into the woods beyond our yard. It is also one of the first pictures I took with my Canon point & shoot that I got that Christmas '06.

I've been there so many times that I can almost see it. I can almost smell it, feel it, hear it, sense it. The reward of 10 minutes of walking through rustic forest. Why do I long for it so much? Because I am sick of all the noise. The never-ending rush. Take me back to that place where nothing seems to matter, nothing seems to move. All is so silent and the air is so clear. The bed of dried leaves makes each step soft. The faint sound of trickling water in a small stream clears away my concerns and my worries. There I can meet with God.

Everything here is so convoluted.

Ice Skating in the City

This is "the bean." It's a sculpture in Millennium Park in Chicago. Quite the landmark.

This night was pretty memorable. It was a "double date" with some friends. There was a couple named Heidi and Matt (mentioned in the previous post about California), and I'm Matt, and we had another friend named Heidi. So I asked Heidi if she'd be in for a Matts & Heidis night, and she was. There is an outdoor ice skating rink just a few blocks from this structure. On the way back to the train after our fun night, we stopped here for a few pictures.

If you look closely in the reflections, you can see quite a few things:

• On the left side, there is the building with a steeply sloped roof. You can see it in the wide city shots of "Gotham" in the newer Batman movies.
• Another ice rink just below where I'm standing for this picture
• My reflection against the railing, silhouetted against the rink
• The lights of Michigan Ave. endlessly in both directions
• On the right, the tall LCD screens that show a human face, then spit water out of the mouth.
• Also on the right, various vague footprints in the snow.

Tens of thousands of other people have taken photos of this object, but I think I was fortunate enough to capture it at a somewhat unique moment.

Sunset Beach

Could there be a more appropriate name for this beach?

The first summer I moved to California, I had a few friends that I knew from Moody in Chicago who were from Southern California. One evening I drove down to hang out with Heidi & Matt. We got in Heidi's dad's BMW convertible and started driving up the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway). This is always a good idea. If you have never been on the PCH, I can summarize it pretty quickly: you are driving alongside the ocean.

We got to this beach town and parked, and walked out onto the sand. As is usually the case with photography, if you look the opposite direction of the obvious subject, you can usually find some pretty interesting pictures. I thought it was perfect how the windows of these amazing houses were all the same color as the sunset.

That night we drove all the way to Long Beach with the top down. This memory still has a warm place in my heart. I was now living in California, driving up the coast with the top down, and with good friends. Can't beat it.

Winter in Orange County

Taken with Canon AE-1 Program on Fuji 200 ISO film.

Winter in Orange County is the best. Having grown up in Pennsylvania, I got used to snow & cold weather from late October through March. If we had a 50 degree day somewhere in those months, it was a nice surprise.

"Winter" in Orange County is like September or early October anywhere else. Some days it doesn't get up to 70, it gets cloudy more than usual, and (my favorite part) the days are very clear. You can see the snowy mountains on the horizon any day the clouds don't take over. The mountains might be my favorite thing about living down here.

This picture was taken from Vantage Pointe, a hilltop with a 360 degree view. My roommate and I came up here at sunrise one day in February, and it was absolutely beautiful (and cold!).

Photo credit: Trevor Dyck

Some Things Just Make Sense

Taken with a Canon AE-1 Program on Kodak 200 ISO film.

Steven stayed at my house this weekend.

A few posts down, you'll read about Kyle moving up to the Central Coast. When I drove him up the coast, I met Steven. Steven and Kyle were in a band. I played two shows with that band.

I love Steven's musical spirit. Every musician has one; some are casual about it and some are serious. With the serious ones, it doesn't take long to feel it. His voice is absolutely full of feeling. He's not precise and he's not calculated, that's for sure. But as soon as he begins to sing, I'm hooked. There is something about his voice that is so real and so honest. I know he's missing the exact notes...I don't care. I want to hear more of it.

We recorded a song over the last two nights. I can't stop listening to it.

This picture was taken in Cambria, California. It was 95 degrees 20 miles inland, and we came to Cambria and it looked like this. Overcast and cool. We needed hoodies. They took me to this beach, with rocks and cliffs jutting into the water. I could hear Steven's voice, distant over the crashing waves and wind. Being that it was taken on film, I had limited chances to capture the perfect shot. I remember pointing the camera at him and waiting for a wave to crash. One did, and I snapped. This picture wasn't developed/printed for 6 months after I took it. When I looked at the prints, I was in awe of how this turned out. Gotta love film.

The End of an Era

This picture was taken within hours of me moving out of the city of Chicago. My last 2 days there are filled with memory, and this night I stayed up all night until sunrise. I looked out my window, and there was this spider in front of the colored sky. Picture-worthy, I knew it.

Here is also a poem I wrote a few days before leaving. Looking back 3 years later, it still makes sense, and I've fulfilled the parts about making new memories in the next phase of my life. Hope you can relate to it.

I could go into the stairwell
and scream
21 floors of echo
and it would fit.

Bare walls
tall concrete
I am leaving this world
hard and barren to see, to touch, to smell
but the memories are warm
pleasant
cozy.

What will I find in the next world?
Different to the eyes, the fingers, the nose
but there too, in my heart
it will be a lush palace
a heaven
a history of mine.

It is the memory
that makes all the difference.

Wonderland.

This is wonderland.

This was taken on the Devil's Backbone Trail on the way to the peak of Mount Baldy. The view from this picture is on the way back from the peak.

They call it Baldy for a reason. Where many mountains are covered in trees or even brush, this mountain is, well, bald. This area of the hike is right before you round a corner and see the massive peak staring you down, challenging you to conquer it at 10,064 feet above sea level. This is the last wooded area before it all turns to dust and rocks.

Notice how all the trees are bent in the same direction. Their branches come mostly out from the uphill side of the tree. This is because in the harsh winter months, the cold icy wind blows up the side of the ridge causing these trees to bend. Then it snows and the weight of the snow compounds the problem further.

But I don't see it as a problem. I've called it Wonderland ever since the first time I took this hike (which this picture is from). It makes me feel like I'm some place far, far away. In some ways, being on the mountain ridge is already a stark contrast to the concrete world of Orange County. But Wonderland is bizarre and unique, even to the wild mountains. I can day dream about being here on those days I feel trapped by the smog and traffic.

Wonderland.

Mountains of Southern California

There are 4 main mountain ranges in Southern California: The San Gabriel, San Bernardino, San Jacinto and Santa Ana ranges. While I'm not an expert on them, I do spend some time studying them. Here is my personal way of sorting them in my brain.

• San Gabriel - The main ones (to me at least). These are closest to LA, and the most visible from where I live. Mount Baldy is here, and I've been up in these mountains a lot.
• San Bernardino - The "Big Bear" mountains. It takes a while to get TO these mountains, and then it takes almost as long to get INTO them. Lake Arrowhead and Big Bear are in this range. Also SoCal's tallest peak is in this one. Only visible in the winter from certain vantage points.
• Interesting note: In the narrow flat ground between the above and below mountain ranges is where the scene from Peewee's Big Adventure with the big dinosaurs was shot.
• San Jacinto - These shoot straight up from the ground to form the western border of Palm Springs. They are stunning to behold because of the flat ground they arise from starkly. Not visible from Orange County.
• Santa Ana - These are half the height of the other 3 ranges (peak is around 5,000 feet), but they are the closest, and the only range in Orange County. They are greener and look like they're out of a western film. To me they seem very unexplored, which is very good. The Santa Ana mountains are mysterious, and they've been growing on me.

As I mentioned in the first post of this blog, I enjoy taking the long way home from work. Well, I found a longer long way, and it takes me right to the edge of the Santa Ana mountains. So go ahead, take a guess....yes that's right, I had to explore them.

This picture was from another detour on the way home from work. It's off Santiago Canyon Road, and it is all the things I wish Orange County still looked like.

The Enchanted Forest

I met Kyle in Orange County. We got along well. He played bass on one of my recordings. But then Kyle had to move.

He was moving back up to the Central Coast of California, where he was from. This is 4 hours (or 250 miles) north of Orange County. He had no car, and therefore no way to get back. So I offered to drive him, knowing that I would also reap the benefit of exploring more of the Golden State that I have not seen.

The drive was beautiful, and inspired the name of the song that Kyle and I did together: "Ocean, Left." Once we moved his stuff out of my car, we began exploring. Unlike Orange County, San Luis Obispo has open space everywhere. And being that it was February, everything was green. Driving through the quiet hills and seeing green everywhere was absolutely refreshing for me. It felt like back home in Pennsylvania.

One of our adventures was a walk in the "enchanted forest" right on the edge of a cliff in San Simeon (in view of Hearst Castle). We climbed the huge trees, and when I looked down at Kyle, I saw this spider web. So here is my view from the branch of a tree.

Away

I'm interested in the night

unlit, narrow old roads

and moonlit hills.

I want for rust, history, memory

the winter

the fall

and things away from here.

Much to explore and little already found.

Things away from here.

Memories Founded on History

Taken with a Canon Pellix on Kodak 35mm film.

This is a magical spot. Kind of like today was.

As I mentioned in the previous post, my cousin was in town. I get to see him once every two years or so, and it's been this way as long as I can remember. He lived in Georgia, I lived in Pennsylvania. Now I live in California and he lives in Alabama.

But last night he slept at my house. Today I got the chance to show him some of my favorite spots in Southern California. This was a no-brainer.

I have been obsessed with the mountains since I moved to California. When I moved, I arrived on May 31st, and I had no idea that 10,000 foot mountains were in the area for a few weeks. The very first time I saw those mountains (the first day there were clear skies) I was filled with an unstoppable desire: drive to those mountains.

So I drove in who-knows-what direction, as long as my car was pointed at the looming monstrosity on the horizon. Eventually I ended up on "Mountain Road" which I thought was a good indicator that I'd end up somewhere in the right area.

Well, that one incredible night when I first discovered the beauty and awe of such creation has inspired a continued interest. One of my first adventures after obtaining a 35mm SLR camera was driving up to the mountains.

One way or another, I discovered this beautiful wooded area just off the road to the peak. Where all the surrounding mountains and terrain are gray, rocky, and filled with only brush, this area is green, lush, and full of trees. This is like an oasis in the harsh desert mountain environment.

Today, Joe and I came down here and lingered for a while. The natural spring water tasted delicious, and felt refreshing to dip the feet into. Our entire mountain experience today was quite perfect and magical, and everything worked like it was supposed to. We drove for hours in the San Gabriel mountain range, and were in awe the entire time.

More pictures from this spot forthcoming, once I can get the black & white film developed. ;)

More from the North Beach photo walk

As promised, another picture from the cold walk north in Chicago. This one shows the iciness (and danger!) of the pier. I walked on this to get these pictures! What sacrifices I make for the sake of art. ;)

See the previous post for the background story on this. Sorry about the briefness of the post, my cousin from the other side of the country is staying at my house in California so this got pushed to the back burner! Forgive me!

Chicago Winter

I knew that the spring semester of 2007 would be my last at Moody Bible Institute. I had a realization near the end of the previous semester that I needed to change the course of my life. So I allowed one more semester to give myself a buffer of time to figure out what that meant.

Knowing this full well, I wanted to make the most of my (tentative) last 5 months in Chicago. I decided to take a walk every day, and that I would also take my new camera with me. But it was winter in Chicago.

In January, two weeks into the semester, I set out on one of these daily walks. I knew of a spot a bit north of the school where I could always escape to. It was a beach on Lake Michigan with a pier that went far out into the water enough that the noise of the city was barely audible over the gentle waves. This was my favorite place in the city, and more than one girl accompanied me on various walks there.

But the weather was against me. It could not have been over 20 degrees Fahrenheit, and it was your typical windy day in Chicago, leaving your wind chill probably somewhere around 10 or below. I got a little past halfway and stopped to consider my future for a moment. I was COLD. I was about to turn around, but the inner artist/rebel won the battle, and I continued walking. From that moment forward, most of the pics I snapped were above average; and it only got colder once I got to the lake. Now there were no buildings blocking the wind for me.

I pulled my jacket tight and kept going. I walked out onto the pier, and after 30 or so feet, it became a solid sheet of ice (from the waves that occasionally crashed over the concrete pier and on top). I have pics of this that I will almost definitely post at a later date...maybe even tomorrow.

But another perk of my favorite spot in Chicago was this view. On a day this cold, it was extraordinarily clear, and the short winter day was already waning and the sky had this lovely pinkish hue that you see. This is a panoramic of 3 photos stitched together to give you a sense of the huge, wide skyline of The Windy City.

Let's try that again...

Sorry guys, had to take the post down. My artistic mind doesn't really think about trademarks and legal issues.

I'll try to have another post up this morning, and if not this morning then it'll be this evening.

Smokey at Sunrise

From my journal of the Moody Symphonic Band Spring tour 2007:

3-19-07

Bainbrook, GA

I'm sitting in a huge lodge. Pictures tell the story.

We had trouble on the road today. It ended up in a lot of killing time, and a big hurry to set up for the concert. The room sounded fantastic (it was small!). We watched Casino Royale tonight. A bunch of fun.

Brief because it was late and because of the events of the night prior to journaling.

What this picture alone does not tell about the story was this: After the concert that night, we went to stay in our host homes (as per usual for the tour). However, on this night, all of the guys in the band were staying in the same place: an enormous hunting lodge situated on a lake in the woods of Georgia. Hardwood everywhere. Hunting trophies covering the walls and used as furniture. An outdoor deck and fireplace with fishing poles leaned up against the railing.

Need I say it was a fun night?

I planned to wake up early the next morning to take pictures of the lake at sunrise. I took a bunch, but this is the obvious winner. This is our bus driver for the entire tour, Smokey. How appropriate that the morning fog has a smoke-like appearance in this silhouette.

The Maiden Voyage

The first post on this blog! Hopefully the first of many. Hope you all enjoy this image and the accompanying story.

(Editorial: this blog will definitely keep my mind occupied; it took me like 20 minutes to decide which photo to do first!)

In December, I took a new job in Newport Beach. For those unfamiliar with the geography of Orange County, the drive from La Habra to Newport Beach should be a 25-mile, 35-minute drive due South using the series of freeways that lead directly to my new workplace. But alas, rush hour traffic in Orange County is nothing to sneeze at; any and all plans are at the mercy of the millions of workers (with about one car per person) trying to find their way home from their jobs.

So, still being a relatively new resident to the area (3 years now), I take pride in exploring and finding new roads.

The freeway route The scenic route

Sure, it still takes over an hour to get home but...it's worth it. For me, to drive 45 mph with my windows down, driving through hills during the golden hour and reaching the occasional vista is completely worth it, compared to sitting in traffic on a freeway with 100,000 other cars.

There's one section that is always my favorite...downhill & residential on my right, steep uphill & open space on my left. I spotted a tiny little dirt path cutting through the cacti up the hill, and I always thought: "one of these days, when daylight is longer, I'll walk up there and take some pictures."

Enter March 29th, 2010. Something was seriously wrong with my brakes. Every time I stepped on the pedal, a stress-inducing grinding that I could feel in the seat was heard. I got to this very area, and knew I had to pull over and let the brakes/damaged rotors cool down. So I parked the car on one of the streets to the right, and began walking.

After the uphill walk that wound through hundreds of cacti, I reached the top and the view was incredible - I could see snowy mountains, the ocean, and desert hills/mountains depending on which direction I looked.

I'm truly in the Wild West.

So this picture fulfills my inner need for strong leading lines winding through brush and/or natural terrain. When I get a picture like this, I feel complete.

So to end, I feel this bible verse (as suggested by my sister Kaylee) is an appropriate caption for this scene.

‎"...But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." Matthew 7:14