it's actually rather difficult when you see how much has been done..
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Imagining the World With No People..
it's actually rather difficult when you see how much has been done..
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Random Campus Spot..
Looking for that perfect reading spot I came upon last month, I returned to sit and read and do some writing. I never found that log.. but I did "find" these stairs:
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
On Leaving the House to Write (when there's coffee & an outlet at home)
Sitting in a local Berkeley café trying to find another 800 or so words to concisely, yet accurately, answer questions given me and my classmates for a school paper, I find the words are not coming. Perhaps it’s the cold I seem to have acquired standing around in the cold, wet Berkeley night. If I were honest with myself, (and I usually try to be) I would say it’s because the words just won’t come. This paper should be the easiest thing for me. I’ve read the material; I’ve looked it over twice. I’ve even asked a friend who knows about these things, and he seems to think I’m on the right track. So I'm sitting here in this cafe wondering why I'm still here.
Maybe I should go home, but then I think. If I'm a writer I need to write. If I can't write my assignment, I should still write. I'm here, in my perfect little space (if not my favorite table.)
I took a bus up here because I didn’t feel the energy to walk. Now all I want to do is lay down.. But there’s other things I want to do. So I’m left with the decision, do I just give up writing anything all-together or do I just write for the pleasure of writing? Why do I even come to this café or any cafe, several times a week, when I could be writing at home? I could easily be passed out on the couch with my laptop asleep, my cat poking me in the face with his claws, oh yeah! That’s why.
The reasons I leave our airy loft on the edge of Emeryville to trek on foot or by bus (like today) is many-fold:
First and foremost is the furry love of my life, Alexander. He is not as calm and mellow as his namesake. No, his mindfulness only extends to his need to be the center of attention at his whim. I don’t blame him. Who wouldn’t, when the time is ideal, want the undivided attention of someone endearing to them?
Alexander Bunny (alias "Stinky" or "A Bun" as my friend Ed Branley calls him) sitting on me while I try and use my laptop..
Secondly, despite our having a large loft, we are forever in a state of moving in or moving out. The walls start to close in on me. There’s no door to shut and get away from anything. Referring to a book I'm reading for my current class, I find myself wishing for my own quiet place to hide away in and get away from the noise energy. Yes I could go into the bathroom and shut the door but that would only solve so much. There’s still the neighbor’s baby.. The barking dogs that bark at EVERY thing. Also there’s the fact that our bathroom just isn’t ideal for writing anything; definitely not a school paper.
Thirdly, the next thing to decent writing ambience for me is the silence. The right tone of silence depends on the individual. I like the sound of a few particular cafes. Not too loud, not too quiet, music that plays but isn’t overtly noticed. Other people like myself writing but not talking, the occasional cough or sneeze, or sound of the barista. There’s no constant grinding of beans. Occasionally, a glass or plate will rattle and remind others of the fact that real labor is going on in the background, behind the scenes. No one is taking conference calls. The local sports game is not being blasted from every available television screen. If a game is on, it’s muted.
Lastly to a lesser extent, is camaraderie of the pen. I may not know anyone in the café with me but if you come often enough you see the pattern. There’s the older gentleman working on his research. Maybe he’s writing a book, and is making scads of notes. Highlighting and writing into the margins. He orders the same coffee every morning. There’s the returning students sitting in the windows, occasionally one of their tutors will come along and help them with their calculus. There are the writers working on whatever paper that’s due, or perhaps the Great American novel. You’ll see totally unrelated people sharing a table all working in silence, all understanding that their mind is somewhere else, in various realms of academia, of fantasy, or literate passion; there’s no need to feel bad about asking one of your table-mates to use a random outlet, they get it. There’s the handful of older patrons, most likely professors or lecturers, pouring over their readings, journals, or working on their presentations while having their bagel. These are the folks that work alone, are uncomfortable putting their own sugar and cream in their coffee, the ones that puzzle over a table not properly bussed. These are the guys that worry themselves before turning and asking a nearby patron, “do you know computers?”
There’s usually no gushing teens making a fuss or having loud conversation. If a random couple come in and talk too loud, someone invariably looks at them. Not to say it’s a library, but if we all talked in outside voices, the ambience for working and writing would be shattered. We’d have to find another café. Berkeley has tons of cafes. However, once you find the "right" café for what you’re doing, and you’ve come to appreciate the mix of patrons, sound and coffee, it’s hard work to find another place. Best to keep going and support your local and your neighboring regulars of whom you may never know their names, but have come to appreciate in silent companionship.
Maybe I should go home, but then I think. If I'm a writer I need to write. If I can't write my assignment, I should still write. I'm here, in my perfect little space (if not my favorite table.)
I took a bus up here because I didn’t feel the energy to walk. Now all I want to do is lay down.. But there’s other things I want to do. So I’m left with the decision, do I just give up writing anything all-together or do I just write for the pleasure of writing? Why do I even come to this café or any cafe, several times a week, when I could be writing at home? I could easily be passed out on the couch with my laptop asleep, my cat poking me in the face with his claws, oh yeah! That’s why.
The reasons I leave our airy loft on the edge of Emeryville to trek on foot or by bus (like today) is many-fold:
First and foremost is the furry love of my life, Alexander. He is not as calm and mellow as his namesake. No, his mindfulness only extends to his need to be the center of attention at his whim. I don’t blame him. Who wouldn’t, when the time is ideal, want the undivided attention of someone endearing to them?
Alexander Bunny (alias "Stinky" or "A Bun" as my friend Ed Branley calls him) sitting on me while I try and use my laptop..
Secondly, despite our having a large loft, we are forever in a state of moving in or moving out. The walls start to close in on me. There’s no door to shut and get away from anything. Referring to a book I'm reading for my current class, I find myself wishing for my own quiet place to hide away in and get away from the noise energy. Yes I could go into the bathroom and shut the door but that would only solve so much. There’s still the neighbor’s baby.. The barking dogs that bark at EVERY thing. Also there’s the fact that our bathroom just isn’t ideal for writing anything; definitely not a school paper.
Thirdly, the next thing to decent writing ambience for me is the silence. The right tone of silence depends on the individual. I like the sound of a few particular cafes. Not too loud, not too quiet, music that plays but isn’t overtly noticed. Other people like myself writing but not talking, the occasional cough or sneeze, or sound of the barista. There’s no constant grinding of beans. Occasionally, a glass or plate will rattle and remind others of the fact that real labor is going on in the background, behind the scenes. No one is taking conference calls. The local sports game is not being blasted from every available television screen. If a game is on, it’s muted.
Lastly to a lesser extent, is camaraderie of the pen. I may not know anyone in the café with me but if you come often enough you see the pattern. There’s the older gentleman working on his research. Maybe he’s writing a book, and is making scads of notes. Highlighting and writing into the margins. He orders the same coffee every morning. There’s the returning students sitting in the windows, occasionally one of their tutors will come along and help them with their calculus. There are the writers working on whatever paper that’s due, or perhaps the Great American novel. You’ll see totally unrelated people sharing a table all working in silence, all understanding that their mind is somewhere else, in various realms of academia, of fantasy, or literate passion; there’s no need to feel bad about asking one of your table-mates to use a random outlet, they get it. There’s the handful of older patrons, most likely professors or lecturers, pouring over their readings, journals, or working on their presentations while having their bagel. These are the folks that work alone, are uncomfortable putting their own sugar and cream in their coffee, the ones that puzzle over a table not properly bussed. These are the guys that worry themselves before turning and asking a nearby patron, “do you know computers?”
There’s usually no gushing teens making a fuss or having loud conversation. If a random couple come in and talk too loud, someone invariably looks at them. Not to say it’s a library, but if we all talked in outside voices, the ambience for working and writing would be shattered. We’d have to find another café. Berkeley has tons of cafes. However, once you find the "right" café for what you’re doing, and you’ve come to appreciate the mix of patrons, sound and coffee, it’s hard work to find another place. Best to keep going and support your local and your neighboring regulars of whom you may never know their names, but have come to appreciate in silent companionship.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Raccoons in the Museum!
1000 Oak Street
Oakland, CA
Playing tourist and taking in a little history until I get back to class.. Spent a good time in the Art Gallery, had lunch and then took in the Museum.. and yes, they had raccoons in there. ;)
You can see the rest of my set (including food pRon) HERE
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Ain't I a Woman
Tuesday I needed to be in Downtown Berkeley before dinner time. I thought to go hiking in another city park (I still want to do Mortar Rock Park!), but had a late start (yet again) getting out for my walk. So, after I treated myself to lunch, I headed over to Live Oak Park to read. Despite it being closer to a residential area and playground, it's actually a rather quiet place to just sit on a bench, read, had a snack or watch some fat squirrels acting like cats in the trees... I meandered about and found this really cool mural under a bridge there on the far side of the park..
Sojourner Truth.. "Ain't I a Woman?"
Sojourner Truth.. "Ain't I a Woman?"
Monday, April 14, 2014
Codornices Park and Bay View with Fog
Monday's Adventure had me hiking back up to the Rose Garden with the camera and zoom lens to take some views of the Bay from the Berkeley Rose Garden and to check out Codornices Park.. I got a late start and the fog had already rolled in..
Remains of the Berkeley Pier and Alcatraz in the distance..
Fortunately the fog played no role in my day at the park..
1201 Euclid Avenue
Berkeley, CA.
The park was a fun place to shoot.. lots of gnarled trees, pathways, streams and light. It's a busy park though, so it's full of noise and family and sound.. water, birds.. not so much squirrels... There's even a really great concrete slide all the kids slide down with pieces of cardboard. I made sure to keep people out of my images, but trust me, they were there!
Here's a lovely shot of the City as I headed back down the hill..
Karl the Fog and the SF Skyline..
the rest of the photo set from the day can be seen HERE
Remains of the Berkeley Pier and Alcatraz in the distance..
Fortunately the fog played no role in my day at the park..
1201 Euclid Avenue
Berkeley, CA.
The park was a fun place to shoot.. lots of gnarled trees, pathways, streams and light. It's a busy park though, so it's full of noise and family and sound.. water, birds.. not so much squirrels... There's even a really great concrete slide all the kids slide down with pieces of cardboard. I made sure to keep people out of my images, but trust me, they were there!
Here's a lovely shot of the City as I headed back down the hill..
Karl the Fog and the SF Skyline..
the rest of the photo set from the day can be seen HERE
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Cal Day 2014
I didn't take near as many photos for Cal Day this year.. and the few I took you can see HERE
Instead I wanted to share some of the images I took of South Hall which for whatever reason, is my favorite building on campus.. Built in 1873.. it is the oldest (and only building remaining of the original campus structures.) I love how it looks like part of the exterior is corroding on itself. ;)
Instead I wanted to share some of the images I took of South Hall which for whatever reason, is my favorite building on campus.. Built in 1873.. it is the oldest (and only building remaining of the original campus structures.) I love how it looks like part of the exterior is corroding on itself. ;)
Tuesday, April 08, 2014
Live Oak Park
After a morning of what felt to me would be another comedy of errors.. missed meetings and opportunities, (everything pretty much worked out eventually!) I decided I wanted to try finding Live Oak Park again.
Rather than trying to retrace steps I only vaguely remembered from a month or so back.. up Vine.. turn on Arch.. no wait. hmm. Google maps had Live Oak Park straight up Shattuck, no need to wander from Peet's as a starting point, as I did last week when I got lost and ended up giving up and just meandering to the Rose Garden.
OK, so up Shattuck! Here we are.. beautiful trees, rough stone, aged wrought iron bits, the sounds of water as the creek makes it's way under the footbridges and street overpass, funked up graffiti.. all around you the sounds of kids playing in the distance (there's a center nearby, not to mention the park's in a residential area)a wide open area to sit and enjoy the sounds of birds, flowering shrubs and possibly a quiet tree to read under, (which I wish I had done).
stairs up to the picnic area
footbridge
a bee sat still long enough to let me include it in the shot..
I didn't take that many but you can see the rest HERE
I will include this last shot of a grouping of trees I told my dad it looked like a family of some kind could have made a treehouse out of if they were so inclined (assuming they were of the tree climbing raccoon or bear variety):
Rather than trying to retrace steps I only vaguely remembered from a month or so back.. up Vine.. turn on Arch.. no wait. hmm. Google maps had Live Oak Park straight up Shattuck, no need to wander from Peet's as a starting point, as I did last week when I got lost and ended up giving up and just meandering to the Rose Garden.
OK, so up Shattuck! Here we are.. beautiful trees, rough stone, aged wrought iron bits, the sounds of water as the creek makes it's way under the footbridges and street overpass, funked up graffiti.. all around you the sounds of kids playing in the distance (there's a center nearby, not to mention the park's in a residential area)a wide open area to sit and enjoy the sounds of birds, flowering shrubs and possibly a quiet tree to read under, (which I wish I had done).
stairs up to the picnic area
footbridge
a bee sat still long enough to let me include it in the shot..
I didn't take that many but you can see the rest HERE
I will include this last shot of a grouping of trees I told my dad it looked like a family of some kind could have made a treehouse out of if they were so inclined (assuming they were of the tree climbing raccoon or bear variety):
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