Shed | Douglas, WA | 2013
At three weeks into retirement, I’ve begun to shed the veneer of career and rediscover my underlying self, a person I’d only glimpsed occasionally in the last four decades. Yes, this emerging me is (more…)
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Bur | East Wenatchee, WA | 2013
I found myself mesmerized yesterday by a veteran plumber who replaced our hot water tank. He had tools, knowledge and muscle memory to quickly detach pipes and wires — a dance of mastery — and reattach them to the newly installed tank. His skills were a good example of (more…)
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Resting Place | Wenatchee, WA | 2013
To me, the fate of this car mirrored the aging process. It sat for weeks in the same place (job, relationships) before the first parking tickets (warnings that time was running out) began to appear. Soon, the windshield was covered with legal admonishments to take immediate notice, to take action now or a greater power (the city) would take it away. The owner ignored those warning signs until, one day, the car was gone. Other vehicles parked in its place; memory of it faded. Then, months later, that same car rolled out of nowhere to pass me in a park. Its windows were down, hip-hop music blared, teenagers inside joked and laughed. Clearly, the car had gone to a better place. It had been reborn.
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Shapes | East Wenatchee, WA | 2013
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In the natural world, shapes repeat. I’m thinking of similar spirals in seashells and galaxies. Or the look-alike branching of tree canopies and river deltas. Or a leaf’s edge compared to a jagged ridge line. A botany professor I knew in college once gripped a sapling’s trunk to mimic, he said, a parasitic vining plant. Sure enough, the trunk’s lower half was wrapped in tendrils held fast with tiny three-fingered “hands” — the perfect living tool to reach and grasp whether you’re a human professor or mooching vine.
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Looking Up | East Wenatchee, WA | 2013
When the weather warms, homeless folks camp under our city’s bridges. The most popular spot is the river bridge near the 7-Eleven. Cheap coffee, nice bathrooms. So I was surprised to find a makeshift camp tucked beneath a high span miles from any conveniences. But then I spotted the homeless guy (casual in shorts and sunglasses) stretched in the sun looking up at the bridge — sky, clouds, shadows, textures. On a scale of luxuries, I suppose this view far outweighed the comfort of an indoor flusher.
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Markers | Waterville, WA | 2013
Each spring, Ben trimmed snow-matted grass from around the tombstones. He personally knew just about everyone who’d died in the last 30 years, could point to their resting spots and recount the highlights of their lives. Ben insisted the lawn grew greener, thicker around grave markers of “good” people, while (more…)
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Bag Handles | East Wenatchee, WA | 2013
Art often emerges from unexpected places. Take the plastic grocery sack, for instance. It’s common, useful and, in many ways, artfully pliable. Years ago at a local grocery, one “bag boy” — actually a retired gentleman with an appreciation for whimsy — shaped sack handles to mimic entwined swans, cute mice and TV antennas. “Every one of these bags comes with a set of rabbit ears,” he’d say, tying the handles with a flourish. “You just need to poke ’em right to perk ’em up.”
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Fenced | Ellensburg, WA | 2013
Everyday we discover new fences, our own barriers to thinking, creating, moving towards something new and better. We likely build many of these fences ourselves. You know, those sturdy, even pretty fences that keep us safe and secure. We’re reluctant to tear them down or even pry off a board for a peek at the other side. But remember: It doesn’t matter how we get past the fence — chop it, climb it, walk around it — as long as we’re working to go beyond.
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Structure | Waterville, WA | 2012
Central Washington’s high plateau is mostly defined by horizon — below the line is earth, above the line is sky — so the region’s few vertical structures are welcome geometric relief. My favorites are grain elevators, which rise to wedge their angles between clouds and seemingly anchor them in place.
IrwinFoto 