Paris, what a city.  A city so vibrant full of life, beauty and something to catch anyones interest around any corner one chooses to turn.  That was the greatest thing.  The endless wandering from street to avenue to the broad boulevards.  Again a big shout out to Patrick, Sophie and Frederic who made our trip to their city even more enjoyable. 

Another Holga view of Paris.

The seemingly random nature of the Interconnectiveness of all things is not as random as it may appear.

Dripping water, flowing down a pillar at the station  creating the Rust, Water,and Abstraction

filled with intentional scratching left behind, leads to the deliberate defacing of

a political poster.

The Interconnectiveness of it all is summed up in this lonely lost pin, discretely placed, intently waiting to be claimed by its master.

Is it all random?

Do we look for some tangents to be drawn between them?

I don’t know.  But I do know that by exploring the nature of image creation as a means of expression I will attempt to find it.

YES! 

Scratched deep into the layers of paint at Urayasu station.

The anguish, the pure expression, reaching out of the cold, damp

just to say YES!  

And then there is the  arrow.   Scribbled on a post caught about on

one of my wanders.  Pointing in a direction that I will never travel.

We all must choose the way to journey.

All those politricksters scream for change!

But all I see is an never ending flow of non change.

So let us be the change.  Let us transform the unknown

into the known.

Let there be blue light that surrounds us all.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, you have seen this before.  The one and only self portrait.

But what can i say?  I love the challenge of making a self portrait a little bit out side

the lines.  

Oh, yeah!  Fingers need attention too.

Red.  Big bright bushy red.  The kind of red that only appears in dreamtime. I hadn’t seen the the scarlet color of the Bottle brush tree since I was a youth in Miami, Florida.  The yellow pollen from the thousands of trees would form haphazard swirls on the floor.  I was quite surprised to be wandering back to Shin Urayasu station when my mouth dropped in awe of those vision from times passed.

Time passes to red blurs with yellow powder sprinkles.

It was about two years ago when I and my wife climbed aboard a jet and headed to Paris.  It had been a dream for so long to venture to the city.  The city were Eugene Atget once wandered the empty morning streets. I too wanted to roam the streets.  See with my eyes and my lens the city of culture.  I walked the streets, rode the subways, wandered though museums.

Meeting wonderful friends, Patrick, Sophie, and Frederic.  With their guidance we were able to see Paris from the vantage point as a native, not a tourist.  

In actuality, besides not speaking French I was quite at home.  Wether it was sipping cafe on a street side table or grabbing some bread from the baker.  AHHHH.   I miss it so.  I will return to my beloved Paris.

The skies began to turn purple as I was Walking back home from the station.

The clouds rolled in so fast for a moment I thought I was back in the San Fran Bay Area,

rather than the Tokyo Bay Area.  The clouds swallowed the sun whole.  POOF the warmth was

gone.  Then a eye opened up and Gabriel smiled at me.  I smiled back.

Thursday afternoon in Kasai, Tokyo Japan

It seems to me the older I get the less I fall victim to political hot air.

This is exactly what led me to investigate, flip, and abstract the political

posters in Tokyo.

The posters often fall prey to vandalization which I completely understand.  Ripped, torn

defaced, all add to the uniqueness of each image.

Just a a tattered remains of a poster pasted up about 18 months ago.

Yesterday I felt like this.

Today I saw this ( I don’t feel like it, but at least I was fortunate to see it )

I was inspired to dig though my recent wandering pictures when i cam across my friends article on the IDP website.  Please take the time to read it.  It will make you think.  I Buried Paul: From the Desk of Minimofo

I love subverting the images that the politicians use to try to corrupt us.

another in the glorious series from the series of political poster abstractions.

Up and over the journey begins.  Sometimes toes slip though the crack, or one slides back a few step.  However, we keep on striving to get to the other side, where we can say, ” WE MADE IT”  only to realize that the journey to the other side was making it.

Headaches makes one take stock, reevaluate, stand up and be counted.  This past week being troubled by headaches even though I am officially off of work, and suppose to be able to relax.  Not able too.  I started thinking back to my trip to Paris in 2007, the trip and love of a lifetime.  To be surrounded by such beautiful culture, good people, like Frederic, Ann Sophie, and Patrick, who helped to introduce my wife and i to their city.  All was beautiful.  My only worry was which film to load, and where should we stop to have a noisette.

This all leads me to here.

Where are we going before our bones lay under the cities walls.  There is so much joy in between.

We need, I need to seek out the joy.  Love the precious life that we are given.

Love