Signs are used to point us in a direction.

What is the direction we need to go?

Where do these signs point us to?

After several complete failures with my vintage Hasselblad 500 C I got though Ebay back in March, I have finally gotten back from the lab a properly loaded and exposed roll.  I am pretty happy with the results, they have spurred me on to take out for walks more frequently.  Most of these images are from the cherry blossom season back in April.

Got to find my pot under the rainbow.

Till the next adventure.

Back to one of my favorite subjects.  The political tricksters ant their posters.

I am not sure why I am so drawn to these gaudy posters.  It might be the challenge

in their pure horror, and ugliness to create something abstract and intriguing.  

I see photography as a process, which the goal is to create the best possible image.

This of course starts with the way the image was shot, which camera was used, exposures and 

what have you, but it does not end there.  One needs to keep on pushing and pulling the image

until the image satisfies something in your soul.  When it does it is ready to be shown.  

The sun was high in the sky.  The mercury is surely creeping higher and higher.  The haze

that engulfs Tokyo stretched as far as it would let you see.  

I journeyed back to Ichikawa station.  Wandering thought the same streets as last Friday.  The old decaying stores mingle with the freshly poured cement.  To wander the streets, is to heal my soul.  

Heal soul, Heal.

see you on my next stroll.

When is a Red Line not a Red Line ?

It is a image word play.  The answer is when the Japanese character for

red is printed over a line that is black.  So pictorially the the image reads Red Line,

but it is actually black.  

Nice Bokeh?  Don’t you think?

More and more close ups, segmentation.

I am becoming to see in abstractions.

Lying in the street, the poster once held some spell bound.

No all that is left are colors quickly fading and a smile that is full of black emptiness.

The Rotten Truth comes out.

The red Ribbon draped over a rusting side barrier.

The color calls out, to anyone who will notice under the gray filled skies.

3 more images from my stroll in the sun from Friday.  

As I sit with my sliding door wide open I can feel the cool wet

weather to come.  I look forward to the cool, but I am not crazy about

the wet.

Another image in the unending photographic project of lost and found objects in Japan.

Image was taken on the Urayasu Bridge between Chiba and Tokyo.

It has been 3 months since I walked down Duval Street with Jerry.   A beautiful breezy day in the most south one can get in Florida with out hopping on a boat.  The boom of bass coming from a convertible.  The lazy breezy days on a patio with paint slowly peeling away.  The picket fence that is slowly dissolving to gray.  The bicycle that floats from up above.   I miss you Key West.