Saline Drip

Asilomar: Tidepooling

Face In The Water

Face: 
sculpture mix; transparent black and shino glazes.

Gazebo Rocks: Memorials

Hi Mom and Dad!

Lunch View 2

Lunch View: Asilomar

Tuna and Irish soda bread (separately).  With water.
Tasted great.

Isla Blanca

I like water-and-rock shots like this to feed my imagination.  I picture an island and I put my characters in play there.   This time, there's been a murder, and now that the fog has pulled back out to sea, well, Tom Dacre is about to wish the sunlight wasn't quite so bright.  Though that's not fair, he . . . .

Asilomar, actually.
Looking north toward what I call the Gazebo Rocks.
Perspective?  Memory for mourning?  Story-telling?  Uh-huhh.

Fangfish

Fangfish: sculpture mix; green and sea foam glazing, layered.

This piece was meant to be a rattle, but the clay balls ended up glazed in place. You can see one such ball just behind the teeth in the bottom shot.

Lovely Tentacles

Anchorite

Hello Mom and Dad!

Gazebo Rocks, Asilomar, CA.

Happy New Year!

Finity Pool

There's a story here, though I haven't quite worked out how to tell it best.

Ovid would know how, or Aesop.

Perhaps, Virgil would tell it best: "sunt lacrimae rerum."

And yet, look at all that life in that pool: matter at its finest? What did Steinbeck say? "And yet the impulse which drives a man to poetry will send a man into the tide pools and force him to report what he finds there." He was talking about marine biology, in a strict sense, but Steinbeck would have been at ease with the scene in the photos.

This entry is definitely a rough draft, a work in progress, a couple of images and a bare handful of notes.

Mr. Limpet

Asilomar Coast

A January afternoon: surgy, with a swell running, but sunny topside.

It's raining today, so I'm dream-beachcombing.

Memorial Lane

Or, that's what I call it. Right next to my mom's viewpoint when she was still alive and checking the coast--clear or not--as often as she could.

Almost head-high wave, I'm thinking, and a few weeks back now. Maybe a bit bigger--but only knee-high Hawaiian, of course. Looks good for body-surfing, if I could improve my entry and dodge all the rocks on the way in. (There's a line of toothy bits and boulders beneath the white water there in the middle of the scene.) Gorgeous view; glorious in motion.

I'd like to dive out there, to dodge some breakers and the rocks, to shoot some fish and a crazy surfer or two with my water-camera. To search for shards of the sculptures sacrificed out here. Mermaids; duck-heads; masks. I'd hardly expect to find anything still whole, not with that pumphouse working through the seasons.

I ought to take a look, though. Maybe on a flatter day. Slightly flatter. I wouldn't want to miss all of that energy. Would you?