All photos taken within a year or so of moving to Portland. I became interested in colors and lines, apparently.
(I’m not sure when or why I stopped taking photos like these; I don’t have any after 2010, but I’m unsure if that’s because I stopped taking them, or I stopped keeping them. Either way, it’s a habit I wish I hadn’t gotten out of. I like these investigations of my environments.)
A library book I borrowed recently had this on the inside front cover. It’s a wonderful artifact of the way library books used to look; I had to take a photo, not only for nostalgia purposes but also the aesthetic purpose. I mean, look how wonderful this looks.
Playing in the morning/As you may need a reminder of where I am/And if it’s morning/It must be morning. (“Returns Every Morning,” Lilys, 1996)
I remember telling a lot of people, at the time and in the immediate aftermath, that last year’s San Diego Comic Con was a very strange and emotional experience for me, but what’s interesting looking back at it was how true that was without me realizing it at the time — but it was San Diego that crystalized a lot of feelings that I was having about where I was (and wasn’t) in my life, and just as importantly, opened my eyes to the potential that was out there that I hadn’t really allowed myself to really think about before. I’m very self-conscious about it, to be honest; who has a week of emotional epiphanies at a comic book convention? The answer, I’ve learned, is me. I’m not sure if these images are actually both from the flights to and from Comic-Con that year — they almost certainly can’t be, that’s almost too perfect that I had them on my phone — but in my head they are, and that’s pretty much all that really matters, in a strange way.