Erwin Olaf

I saw a few of the photos from Erwin Olaf's series The Keyhole at Paris Photo Los Angeles.  I love the composition, color palate, background patterns, and body language of the subjects.  In person, the images are crisp, arresting and evocative.  According to Le Journal de la Photographie:

It is through the keyhole that Dutch artist presents this latest work on the theme of shame, inviting the viewer to become a voyeur. 
The subjects in Olaf’s ten portraits strike postures of humility and remorse—perhaps the result of private humiliation suffered on the other side of the lock. They refer to age-old fantasies, evoking in each of us the passing of our lives and the inevitable reckoning of one’s own fragility.

Docs

Watched two distinctive, yet equally disturbing (and well done) documentaries:  The World According to Dick Cheney and Girl Model.  Highly recommend both.

Paris Photo Los Angeles

Paris Photo, a seventeen year old expo, came to Los Angeles this weekend.  According to the fair's director, Julien Frydman, the city was chosen for the first iteration abroad for the following reasons:

If you think of one area that has a very strong relationship with images in a large and broad sense, it is Los Angeles. For us, this city, which in the last ten years has changed so much with so many galleries, was an obvious environment to create the fair. Once we secured the location at Paramount Studios, it was even more obvious because we were in this historical place where fiction meets reality.

Paramount was an inspired venue.  Several sound stages housed the many international galleries, but the magic truly happened on the streets of New York where store fronts and residential facades were turned into exhibition rooms.

x marks the spot

Monkey

On occasion, after a few days away, Monkey can be a little cheeky, seeking more time outside than by my side.  So when I returned from Big Sur, and I couldn't find him, I assumed he was on the roof tops playing.  I was disturbed when I found him hiding in the dark corner of the guest room closet, nose to the wall.  This was a very unusual hangout.  He only came out when I scooped him in my arms, and then quickly retreated when I put him down.  I force fed him milk and protein shakes, holding the bowls under his mouth until he took a few reluctant laps. Consequently, he was wobbly and listless, severely dehydrated and bony.  After routine tests came back normal, the vet posited that my recent three night jaunt disturbed his routine.  I gave up trying to explain our independent relationship, and his super cool attitude.  I embraced the one positive outcome from his dramatic behavioral shift; a calm disposition in the car replaced his typical high anxiety and panting.   I had a big victory on day six when he finally ate a few morsels of tuna.  Today he's been the most normal -- meowing for food, following me around the house, and curling up next to me on the couch.  I'll probably never have an explanation for what caused this peculiar change, but I truly hope it's behind us.

Scope

I love Rob Brezsny's obscure references in his weekly horoscopes.  Here's mine for this week:

In 1921, Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev -- born under the sign of the Bull -- premiered his opera The Love for Three Oranges in the United States. Here's how *The New York Times* felt about it: "There are a few, but only a very few, passages that bear recognizable kinship with what has hitherto been considered music." It's possible, Taurus, that you will get a similar reaction when you debut your new approach or endeavor. And that may disturb you. But I think it would be a good omen -- a sign that you're taking a brave risk as you try something innovative and unfamiliar.

Time

Impossible, I think, that two weeks have passed since I journeyed up the coast for a respite.  How quickly the days have unfolded since my return.  Busy, yet peaceful.  Productive personally and professionally.  Scripts read, meetings taken, yoga practiced, tasks completed, meals consumed with friends.  Clocked mother nature's mood swings.  Unnerved by Monkey's altered personality, and week of anorexia.  I head calmly into the unknown, move forward consciously with curiosity rather than concern.  If I do trip into worry, I quickly regain my footing, not having the energy to expend on stewing.  I surrender to the cliches:  time will tell, what will be will be, the right thing will happen.

Happy Earth Day

A cool Southern California winter and spring abruptly transitioned into unseasonably high temperatures this week.  Feels like July which is jarring since time is already going so fast without the weather playing tricks on my mind. 

Elephant Seals

Somewhere near San Simeon the coast was littered with elephant seals and tourists snapping their photos.  I joined the masses to watch the mammals soak up the sun and bury themselves in sand.  I'm not always drawn to the ocean as much as I was on this trip.  The mountains tend to be my tonic, but I was already nostalgic for the coastal landscape as I was nearing the turnoff for Paso Robles, and a more inland route home.

Big Sur Blooms

Big Sur in Black + White

McWay Waterfall

An easy walk from the highway to a perch overlooking this spectacular 80 foot waterfall.  I could have sat on a bench all afternoon, staring at the turquoise tidal pools and breathing in the sweet smell of eucalyptus.  In the early '80s a fire and than a landslide altered the topography of the coastline.  Originally the waterfall cascaded directly into the ocean but now it hits an inaccessible sandy beach.

Coastal Fog

One morning, driving the steep, windy road from the cabin I mistook a cloud for a plume of smoke.  I was most certain there was a fire smoldering in the canyon.  Concerned, I pulled over, but it was just a majestic cloud rising from the sea.  The fog is incredibly dramatic, and more than once it caused me to stop, pull over and examine its beauty.

Big Sur

Woke in time to watch the sun burst over the ridge, dappled light filled the cabin.  There was truly no need to leave, but in time I did.  I traveled four miles south to a trailhead in Andrew Molera State Park.  Blue skies, less windy than yesterday, and a warm 64 degrees made it a perfect hiking day. A path through a meadow of wildflowers dumped me at a spectacular beach.  I continued on a 2-mile path along the bluffs, waves cresting below.  A strenuous, uphill climb provided spectacular coastline views, and then the terrain dramatically changed.  I found myself in a lyken, redwood forest, a soft bed of pine needles under foot.

It doesn’t escape me that several weeks ago I was yearning for a mini adventure somewhere in nature, untrodden trails, and oodles of tranquility.  And then here I was, surrounded by abundant spring, my itch so satisfyingly scratched.  I don’t take any of it for granted.  

My feet were well aware that in slightly over 3 hours I trekked 9 miles.  I needed some cabin time, and a hot soak under the pines.  Renewed, I returned to Big Sur Bakery for a meal.  I sat at the bar for an early dinner, and  was very tempted to feast solely on bread.  However, I refrained, and ordered braised octopus with beluga lentils.  Heaven. Amazing to find such high-end food in such a remote location.  

My muscles felt wonderfully fatigued, exhaustion so enjoyable because I had nothing else to do but surrender, and give in to the feeling.  Time to stoke the wood burning stove and crawl under the covers.