Three Cameras

On my way to the ATM yesterday I caught a glimpse of the Green Street side of the First Church of Christ, Scientist at Green and Oakland. The building is grand from all angles, especially on a sunny day, but Green Street not being its best side I decided to double back on my way home and park in front, on the Oakland side, to take its picture.

Kinda sparkly on a sunny day. If this building had a speaking voice it would be a big bass with a Mid-Atlantic accent.

I got lucky. A bride and groom were having their picture taken by three photographers, two of whom they were aware of.

ltdLive 2012

Pasadena Convention Center

Is it just me or is your calendar suddenly full, too? Yesterday morning I went to a seminar. In the evening I attended a meeting. Today I'm working and I have a meeting, and tomorrow there's more to come. Many events want my attention and some of them I'm even interested in. I think it's partly exuberance in the new year, partly a need to get something going in a tough economy.

Worth checking out at the Pasadena Convention Center on February 1st and 2nd: ltdLive 2012, a Conference for Entrepreneurial Women. ltdLive was created by Pasadena author and entrepreneur Nada Jones for "women who live at the intersection where business and life converge." Meaning, perhaps you're stuck at home with three kids and perhaps you'd like to occupy your brain with something else and make some money in the process. Or perhaps you're already an entrepreneur, and you're ready to take your business to the next level. Dance atop the glass ceiling in your glass slippers, as it were.

We used Nada's book, Sixteen Weeks to Your Dream Business, as a jumping off point for the Business Builders' Boot Camp in which I participated--goodness--two years ago. Nada came to our final session and helped critique business plan presentations. She's friendly and approachable, not to mention a smart business person who knows how to motivate others to stop sitting around dreaming and start doing the thing they've been dreaming about doing.

I was going to call her a sharp cookie but then I thought, that doesn't sound appetizing at all.

Visit ltdlive.com for details and to sign up. This might be your year.

Coffee Gallery on a Steep Hill

I was at the Coffee Gallery Backstage earlier this month to hear Will Ryan and the Cactus County Cowboys and write an article about them for Altadena Patch. (It was a really fun assignment.) I get to the Coffee Gallery pretty often.

The Coffee Gallery and Coffee Gallery Backstage are two separate but, shall we say, conjoined entities operating out of basically the same space. Both entities are institutions around here.

When John and I first moved to the San Gabriel Valley we rented a house in Altadena. We got married in the back yard there. We called the Coffee Gallery "Awake and Open" because of the sign hanging outside. It's always been part of our lives here.

Right now, both Coffee Gallery entities need to raise $20,000 by February 15th for their Conditional Use Pemit (CUP) and parking variance in order to keep their entertainment license.

They're having a fundraising concert on February 8th. Tickets are $18 and the artists, bless them, are donating 100% of the proceeds to the Coffee Gallery. Timothy Rutt wrote a good article about it on Altadenablog. If you can't make it to the show you can still make a donation.

$20,000. My god, that's steep. I think the Coffee Gallery will do it, but jeez louise, how's a small business supposed to survive in LA County with fees like that?

Boz (Not Boz)

Oooh, the face.

How many times have you said, "I wish I could have a dog like Boz, but there's only one Boz in the whole, wide world!"? I know! You're like a broken record! How many times have you wished you, too, could have a mild-mannered, easy-to-handle, calm-as-can-be Boxer like Boz?

Well, now you can! Yes, you, too, can meet Vinnie the Boxer at Boxer Rescue! He's available for adoption today!

Here's what Karin the Altadenahiker had to say when she walked Vinnie: "He was happy to mosey on the leash, but every so often would break into a sweet but tame happy dance. He wouldn’t lunge at other dogs who said rude things behind fences, but he wasn’t afraid of them, either. Was curious about everything, but not insistent about it."

Wow. "...all a boxer has to offer without the exuberance," as Karin says. Sounds like Boz to me. And Vinnie comes with a bonus even Boz can't match: he's an actual Boxer (Boz is actually a Mixer).
Here's another shot Karin took of our guy:**

I love that far-away look in his eyes, don't you? Soulful. So Clark Gable.

Vinnie (you can name him Boz once you take him home) is 7 or 8 years old. I highly recommend a mature dog, especially if you yourself are not a spring chicken. Puppies are great if you have furniture to spare and if you are free 24/7 to train your young piddler and walk him/her several times a day so he/she will please god sleep for chrissakes. But Karin and I picture Vinnie with someone who appreciates the finer things in life--at a slower pace.

"In all the [dog] walks I’ve taken," says Karin, "I've never met a dog so well behaved and affectionate." And Ms. Hiker has walked more than her fair share of dogs as a volunteer at Boxer Rescue.

To learn more about Vinnie, read Karin's piece on Altadena Patch. Then call or visit Boxer Rescue and take Vinnie home with you. Then you, too, can have your very own Boz!**

Boz the Mixer, photographed by John Sandel

I guarantee it--you'll be so glad you did.

**Leash and tags sold separately. Available in colors shown. Boz not included.

Zen Monday: #180

Here at the old Pasadena Daily Photo blog, we celebrate Mondays with a bit of Zen.

Zen learning comes from experience, I'm told, rather than lectures or books. So please experience the photo and, in the comments, tell us what you've learned.

There's no right or wrong. We're here to have fun.

Rainy Day Mood

The Richard H. Chambers Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals Building, seen from the Lower Arroyo

It didn't rain all day yesterday, just all morning. Still, I was in a rainy day mood. I craved the cozy feeling of running the heater and drinking hot tea, and I indulged.

One cloudy day some time ago, PDP's resident geologist Becca and I took our dogs to the Lower Arroyo thinking it wasn't going to rain. It did, of course, as soon as we were as far from our cars as we could possibly get. We were the only non-wild creatures in the Arroyo between the Colorado Street Bridge and South Pasadena. Everyone else, wild or not, knew enough to find shelter.

It began to pour, rattling the leaves and forming puddles on the path. The stream ran full from north to south. Becca and I were soaking wet. We let the dogs run free and they were out of their minds with the joy of it.

Yesterday, Boz curled himself into the shape of a Lima bean and spent most of the day by the heater, with the exception of our neighborhood walk. Now that he's older he craves being cozy, too. Because I know the feeling I run the heater for him, but he turns up his nose at tea.


Here's another view of the Courthouse from the Arroyo, with Boz posing in the foreground.

Ars Brevis

Bright colors haven't been the norm on this scraggle-spit of ground, where Foothill splits from Walnut to begin its eastern trek. I like this area, especially along Walnut: it's where small industries and artist studios set up shop, and you can find old train tracks along the north side of the road.

Now you can also find art. This work is called Planting a Garden. It's by Margaret Lazzari and Lauren Evans, and it's part of Pasadena's Rotating Public Art program. Medians and scraggle-spits like this one are just the spots for works such as this one. Watch for them at your favorite (or least favorite) median around town. Each piece is displayed for 18 months before it's rotated out and replaced with a new one.

This piece looked to be in fine condition when I stopped so I'm not sure what the caution tape was for. But this brings me to the fact that I stopped--stopped the car, got out, and looked up close. I recommend it. I like the piece as a whole, but I like the details even more. Click on the photos to enlarge them.

Plus, when you look closely, you can see the materials. I like knowing how this piece was put together and with what.

I also liked seeing how the location interacted, however tentatively, with the piece.

One of my favorite things about art is its subjectivity. No single work will please everyone. That's one of the many appealing things about this rotating program. Don't like the art? Don't worry. Just give it a little time.

Best Things

One of those warm Saturday evenings a week or two ago:

Boz and I are having our walk. He sniffs his usual spots, as dogs do. We turn the corner and dusk has ditched us. Dark moseys down the sidewalk. A mom calls her kid to come in. End of day, end of day.

A gaggle of children still plays in a yard. One of them spots us when the street lights come on. "A customer!" she shouts. "Hi! Do you want to buy a free flower ring? Free flower rings for sale!"

"Just one more," calls a mom to whatever kids in the batch are hers, "then you're coming inside." She stands in the doorway, warm light spilling out from behind her onto the porch. I wave to her. She says "hi." She can't wave back because she's holding a baby in her arms.

Five or six children, of varying sizes but all smaller than I am, gather to meet me, discuss Boz and hawk their free flower rings. I ask to see the merchandise.

The children have a tiny table set on the lawn. (It might actually be a footstool.) On it are displayed in orderly fashion about twenty of the loveliest, most aromatic flowers. The kids have coiled the stems into rings.

"Take this one. And this--this is a good one. One for each hand."

"No, two for each hand."

"Do you think Boz wants one?"

"If the lady gets four then Boz gets four."

"Wait," I say, "how much?"

"They're free!" the children squeal. They are so pleased with themselves.

"Free?" I say. "But they're so beautiful." They truly are.

The kids could not be more thrilled that I'm thrilled. I lavish praise on their works and thank them profusely. Mom calls again. "That was the last one," she says, and calls "have a good evening" to me.

Boz and I walk on. I have a dog leash and a full bag of poo in one hand, and eight pretty flowers in the other. I can't believe my good fortune.

Oxymora

The last bit of sunlight bleeds off the treetops even as the moon rises. Opposites uniting in the natural world to make a thing of beauty.

You can find online lists of oxymora (nice word, that). "Military intelligence" is a popular one but it's sarcastic, which means it's only an oxymoron if you believe the military is not intelligent. A better example is the ever popular "jumbo shrimp," or my new favorite, "butt head." These are oxymora in fact, not opinion. (I also like "Congressional action," but there we go again with the sarcasm.)

Let's hear yours today, sarcastic or not. Oxymorons unite!

Everybody Needs a Break

Coworkers can be lifesavers, no matter where you work.

The Whole Staircase

Of yesterday's photo Dive asked, "So what was around that corner, Petrea? Did you sneak a look?"

I did. Speedway was prescient when she quoted Dr. King, "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."

I took both photos a couple of years ago. I was pretty mad at myself when I forgot to use yesterday's picture for Martin Luther King Day last year.

I did climb the stairs. They led to private property, which I did not invade.

But I remember where they are.

Zen Monday: #179

Even holiday Mondays are Zen Mondays. That's the day you tell me what the photo's about instead of the other way around.

The man whose life we celebrate today wasn't famous for his sense of humor, but he's said to have had one.

Tree Story House

We complained about losing thousands of trees when hurricane-force winds hit Pasadena November 30th, but we didn't lose every tree in town. In fact, most of them are still here. It's not that we exaggerated the loss. It's just that Pasadena had so many trees to begin with that although losing so many was painful, we still live in a blessed urban forest.

Boz and I passed this giant on our dog walk yesterday evening. The tree dwarfs its yard partner, making it look like a tiny tree house.

Sometimes when I'm walking--okay, always when I'm walking--I glance through gates into back yards and, if the curtains are open, I peer into windows. It's part nosiness, absolutely. But mostly it's like looking at the pictures while reading a fanciful storybook. I peek at a world I don't know. I imagine what it's like to live inside that story.

Boz doesn't fantasize. He's strictly a non-fiction dog. But I'm sure I'm not the only one who does this.

I couldn't see into this house. Like a treehouse, it's raised over the sidewalk on a yard of ferns, heightened above the everyday like fiction itself. But the golden light from the windows was enough.

Home Studio

Lately my multi-talented husband's been doing some drawing work (animation, logo design) and yesterday he had an on-camera job. No, he's not launching an acting career. John's arm and hand were filmed at high speed while he drew, to be pixilated in a web video for a new website.

For one day, John's home office became both animation studio and filming location. This would have been claustrophobic for a big crew, but there was enough room for both set and crew because the cinematographer, lighting designer and post-production supervisor are all one person named Denny Kukahiko.

I took this shot of John and Denny before they started shooting. You can see the camera suspended above the drawing table. The lamps are called China Balls. I know they resemble what my parents had in their dining room when I was in high school but these are slightly different and they give a sugary, diffuse light.

There wasn't quite enough room on the set for producer Kendall Kanoa Hawley, who set up her laptop in the dining room. Kendall, Denny and Denny's brother Chad Kukahiko make up Superfreako Productions (rhymes with Kukahiko, see?). You met them here when I told you about their short film, Carefully Descending. John met them through his participation in the Hollywood film collective, We Make Movies. John's got more projects coming up with WMM, so I'll have more to tell you soon.


Update 1/17/12: Cinematographer Denny Kukahiko posted about the shoot on Superfreako's blog.

Update 1/20/12: Hey! Here's the final product.

A Light Touch

the Westin Hotel in Pasadena

Sometimes another person can rub off on you. Spend half an hour with the guy who's always freaked out and you come away needing a cigarette, whether you smoke or not. By contrast, a brief exchange with a store clerk who's got a sense of humor can loosen the clench of your jaw and keep you smiling for the rest of the day.

I don't know about you but I never think of myself as that person--the one who's rubbing something of my own off onto other people. How dare I rub people, how rude! Especially strangers, especially the wrong way.

But I am that person. We all are, every time we come within rubbing distance of each other.

It's something to keep in mind, this unconscious rubbing we do. (I suppose if we keep it in mind it's conscious then, isn't it?) Perhaps a nice pat-pat now and then instead, eh?

Guest Author: Douglas Kearney

My sole contact with poet, librettist, performer and teacher Douglas Kearney has been online, and it's all been a pleasure. Read his post, click his links and definitely watch a video or two. This is one poet who doesn't just stand there and read.

Many thanks to William Goldstein of Pasadena's Red Hen Press for putting me in touch with smart, funny and thoughtful Douglas Kearney.

Horses mill before liquor stores that scowled with St. Ides posters.

Jump cut to a mile of deodar decked with light as pistols and champagne corks drum New Years’ Eve.

Turn to a tuning dial teetering between stations, song to hiss to talk to bzzzzz.

Altadena, right?

Sometimes—ok, a lot of times—I wonder what it means to be a poet of place. Home, block, town, city, state, region and on. How does one write of a place? “Of”, of course, as “about” AND as “composed from.” Like some of those dudes around those liquor stores would ask, “What you claiming?” which, for them, was a question of geography, allegiance and too often, life. For me, it’s a question of how to see and how to be seen seeing.

I set myself to write about Altadena. I cull my memories and I do the external research. I exaggerate, I lie, I shift a street, say Calaveras, back into its Spanish mouth and a skull leers back. And in that skull’s teeth are photographs of times I can’t remember in the house behind the house, next to the babysitters’ and ivy ivy ivy and daddy long legs. I write Altadena this way sometimes, about it. I’ve got poems that show it off like a forearm tattoo or a customized t-shirt. I boosterize like those license plate holders trilling “Beautiful Altadena” to everyone who lives anywhere else.

But more often, I write of Altadena. Composed from. The clash of coyotes and cockapoos; of the Tudor on my street and the ranch home a few doors down. Of mispronounced boulevards and illegible graffiti tags. The horses, Christmas trees and what the foothills used to do to my radio. Tension, juxtaposition, coexistence in the face of contradiction. I find that more and more, my work is of Altadena; my poetry, libretti, performance style, all seem to locate their syntax in this land.

I moved back about a year ago and I’m leaving again in a week. It costs too much, I wrote in a poem. But then I was writing about keeping the Christmas Tree Lane lit in war time. And I was writing about the darkness in my father’s house after my mother died.

She’s in Altadena’s earth.

Like some of those dudes who claimed some of its concrete and dust.

Like my poetry.

Altadena. Write.

Douglas Kearney’s SkinMag, a new chapbook from A5/Deadly Chaps will be out in January. Come to the release reading at Machine Project January 28 at 8. His second book, The Black Automaton (Fence Books), was a National Poetry Series selection in 2009. He has also written a chapbook as broadsides as an lp called Quantum Spit (Corollary Press, 2010) and his first collection, Fear, Some (Red Hen Press) was published in 2006. He’s performing around town. Visit www.douglaskearney.com for details.

Photographic History

the Curtin House at Pasadena Museum of History

In conjunction with the exhibition Southern California’s Evolving Landscape: The Photography of Helen Lukens Gaut (1872-1955) at the Pasadena Museum of History through Feburary 26, the Museum is offering some pretty cool photography workshops next month. Three different teachers, three different workshops, three different perspectives.

Saturday, February 4: Working the Angles with James Staub,
Photo Services Specialist, California Institute of Technology
Staub will focus on what he calls "Moving the furniture around" -- framing the scene, dealing with lighting to your advantage, color balance and other methods to enliven a photo through simple changes to your camera and yourself.
Participants will meet at the Information Kiosk in the East entrance of Pasadena City Hall.

Saturday, February 18: The Basics of Composition with Ibarionex Perello,
Adjunct professor at Art Center College of Design and author of the bestselling book, Chasing the Light: Improving Your Photography with Available Light
Perello's workshop will teach students to improve their compositions. You will learn how to carefully consider what to include and exclude from the frame as well as how brightness, contrast, sharpness, patterns, and color saturation shape how we create and see photographs.
This workshop will take place in Curtin House at Pasadena Museum of History.

Saturday, February 25: Phoneshots with Eliot Crowley, Santa Barbara-based commercial photographer
The best camera is the one you have with you. As Eliot says, “It’s not the camera, it is the photographer.” In just a couple of hours you'll learn some of the capabilities of your phone camera. Be ready at a moment’s notice to make the image, set up the composition and lighting to flatter your subject just by pulling your phone out of your pocket.  Equipment needed:  Cellular phone with camera.
This workshop will take place on the Colorado Street Bridge. Participants should park on Grand Avenue and meet at the East entrance to the Bridge.


Museum Members, $25 per session; Non-Members, $30 per session; Museum Members, $60 for all three workshops; Non-Members, $75 for all three workshops.
Reservations are required. Call 626.577.1660, ext. 10.

I've never gone wrong at the PMH. They're cool people who care about offering quality programs.

Stinky in a Good Way

If you follow the Saga of Boz (and why wouldn't you?) you know he had eye surgery about two and a half weeks ago. He had to wear a (shameful) cone for two whole weeks, during which time there were no none zero zip trips to Hahamongna Watershed Park (for his sake we call it JPL because it has fewer syllables, though I doubt he'd find the real JPL nearly as interesting).

First we inspected the Devil's Gate Dam. The County has dug out a good deal of silt in what might end up as an ongoing project. If you enlarge the picture you can see, left of center, a bunch of ducks ("bunch" being the scientific term), swimming as far away from Boz as they can get, even though all he ever says to them is "murph."

We usually walk all the way from one end of Hahamongna to the other, or at least from the dam to Johnson Field and back, but it was our first trip out in a while and the Pooper was easily pooped. You would be, too, if you had to stop and smell every damn thing in the whole watershed.

********

Now, this is totally off the subject but if you like cowboy music, the Coffee Gallery and Rocky the Flying Squirrel, I hope you'll read my latest article on Patch.

Zen Monday: #178

Zen Monday's the day you experience the photo and give us your thoughts rather than me telling you what I think the picture's about. There's no competition, no right or wrong. We're here to have fun.

Sorry about the quality. My iPhone is very, very old. 


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(p.s. I have a new piece on Patch that has nothing to do with Zen Monday.)

Pique Cadillac

Yesterday was different.

I usually work at my desk. I didn't.

Lately it's been sunny and hot. It was foggy and cool.

My dog, no longer forced to wear a cone, was happier. 

We received a spontaneous dinner invitation and accepted it.

Routines serve a purpose, but sometimes you have to break them.