Have a Hope

Hydraulic Mountains

A step to the left or the right, and the mountains always look different. Go far away, and they become a backdrop. Go close and they seem to loom above you like some sort of overweight deity. Go close enough, to the top, and you can look down and see the world from its perspective. "Stand on the shoulders of giants". Gain perspective.

Even the things you move around on the ground in the view of the mountain change the way it looks.

First Crush

I wasn't expecting to enjoy the food and drink of Anchorage so much when I was planning my trip. I didn't expect to not like it, but I didn't expect to be floored by it either. But I was summarily put to ground on going to Crush. For how great it is, Crush is settled in an odd place. Set in front of a mall across the street from a Nordstrom, the quality food and drink being served there would feel more at home in downtown New York. That last statement might just be a secret wish that the restaurant were closer to me, thought.

Crush offers a wide array of flights - a selection of three wines - that are meant to pair well with different foods. I tried the Pinot noir flight, which had a good mix of light and more complex wines.

My tasting notes: The Franz Keller was like unexpected analingus accompanied by burning pitch on the elbow. The second, the Okanogan, smelled like a respectable old man's smoking jacket and tasted like bark. Which went very well with the figs. The last, the J Vineyards, tasted like and filled me with a feeling of existential doubt.

I'm not the sort of person that usually cares too much about what wine I'm drinking with what food, so I was glad that our server was knowledgeable enough to help plan our meal. Alana (who drank tea) basically picked all of our food and let our server suggest a wine, and all of the pairings felt really good. The baked mac & cheese was really savory and spicy and worked well with the lighter Franz Keller, and the white bean pate worked with pretty much anything. There was nothing on the table that I wouldn't like to have piped directly into my brain.

In all, the meal was pretty surprising, and surprisingly affordable - just 33 dollars before tip.

More surprising food and nature to come.

Flattop Mountain

Just got back from a ten day trip to visit Alana (+Adelyse) and James up in Anchorage. Had what you might refer to in idle conversation as a "good time", but that phrase doesn't do any justice to the things I experienced. It was the first time I've ever seen mountains which was a little shocking at first, having a constant backdrop far in the distance. I imagine it was very much like the experience someone growing up on a farm might have if flung forcefully into Times Square.

It initially felt like I was in a movie set, like you could just reach out and touch the mountains and tip over a very detailed painting. That illusion was shattered pretty quickly when James and I hiked up to the top of Flattop Mountain. I'd never hiked at all. 'Hiking' wasn't even a verb that I could recall ever having used. James was extremely hospitable on the way up, stopping when my lower body threatened to shut down in response to the climb. He'd mentioned before we started that this was the kind of thing that he regularly ran up for exercise, cementing my belief that he was probably some sort of alien or magician.

All the burning and aching on the way up quickly went away - or at least temporarily subsided - when we reached the top. Partly because of the much colder winds at the summit numbed some of the pain, but mostly because of the amazing views of Anchorage and surrounding mountains, which I'm told are also climbable. By people with magical amulets or powers as the result of experiments gone awry, I'm sure.

The views were more than worth the climb. Thanks to my guides (both human and animal) on the way up for these photos, and many more that will be coming during the next few weeks.

City Frames

New York frames its own art.

She Will Carry Them All

Wood Writ

Birch trees have short fibers, making the bark easily usable as paper. Some Gandharan Buddhist texts from the first century were written on birch bark. In Russia we've found fragments of birch bark with an archaic dialect of Karelian written on it, unspoken for hundreds of years.The Ojibwa people of North America used the tree's bark to record their rituals, their families and the motion of the stars.

It's a tree with special significance to writers, so it's only fitting to shoot Sara on one. A writer and a poet with a real ability to conjure up feelings in people, Sara's been a real inspiration over the past week.

She oozes ideas, and we haven't properly sat down to plan a shoot yet. At least not very far in advance. Everything's been straight up improvised and off the cuff based on the location and light that was available, in addition to some wardrobe pilfering. She took to being in front of the camera really easily, like she was made for it.

I can't wait to try some more experimental things. I want to bring some lights on our next shoot and see what can be done with them - this series was a little limited by the setting sun. We moved indoors to the D'Angelo Center to continue, but I'd like to return to that location again with some more equipment.

So excited.

More to come.