Week of South Pasadena Noir #4

"No object is mysterious.  The mystery is your eye."  -- Elizabeth Bowen

It's a black and white world of South Pasadena mysteries this week, folks.  Check in for a daily dose of Halloween eye candy.

Want to leave a message?  Go here.

El Centro After the Rain

A simple street corner, a little rain, a setting sun. Nice how something so ordinary can seem so ... extraordinary.

Duel

Look out for that one on the left. He's little, but quick...

Twilight: El Centro and Fremont

It's been a while since I prowled around at night with my camera. (Note to self: Prowl around more at night with your camera!)

Daily Observation (after daily observation after daily observation...)

I've mentioned it before: You have to be a little crazy to be a daily photoblogger. 7 days a week, 365 days a year, even on Christmas or if you have 103 degree fever!

Maybe we're just inspired.

If you're a San Gabriel Valley local, check your nearest newsstand for the September issue of Pasadena Magazine. You'll find an article featuring fellow daily photobloggers Petrea Burchard, Ben Wideman, Kat Likkel and little ole me. We're all driven to photograph this fascinating part of the world, and the new article helps explain why we do it.

(Because we're crazy! Or maybe just inspired. Or probably a little of both.)

By Request

I got an email from someone wondering if I'd post a picture from El Centro, looking toward the water tower. "I've been away from home for a long time," he wrote. "I'd just love to see it."

Here you go. (Also, this.)

Curbside Hope

The colorful old houses along El Centro are even prettier when my favorite Gatsby car is parked nearby.

This is one of the sweetest vantage points in the entire city. Looking down this street is like gazing at an iconic image of the 20th Century American dream. It's like watching Our Town with a tall glass of lemonade next to a girl scout who is reading an old Saturday Evening Post. There's nothing snarky or ironic about this place. It's just happy. And hopeful. (You might want to click on this one to make it bigger.)

My Pretty Things Week continues. Nothing serious or startling -- just lovely little bits of eye candy. Consider it my rebellion against ugly news and humid weather.

by strange unexpected acts...

"I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution thousands or even millions of young Americans wandering around with rucksacks, going up to mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and old girls happier, all of 'em Zen Lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads for no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures. "

--Jack Kerouac
The Dharma Bums

A Quiet Moment

I've always been moved by the subtlety of Edward Hopper. The way he carefully constructed diagonals and shapes in so many of his paintings (Nighthawks, is a great example) brought a great modern aesthetic to his realism. The way he painted hope through a filter of melancholy always summed up what it is like to be a child of the twentieth century. I always think of Hopper when I look at the houses in today's photo. The archetypal setting, the muted color scheme, the little teacup shrubs, the wonderful lines, lines and more lines would have been great if translated by Hopper's brush.

Art historians always speak of the way Hopper's works exist in "quiet moments." Art scholar Deborah Lyons said it well, "Our own moments of revelation are often mirrored, transcendent, in his work." Hopper found epiphany in the mundane.

It's in the Hopper spirit that I study South Pasadena. The classic American symbols here are set pieces for our own revelations. Our ordinary things --the Craftsman houses, the topiary bushes, the mid-century driveways promising freedom and adventure not far from home -- have been quietly beside us in our moments of grace and wonder. They provided a backdrop for generations of lovely, commonplace history. They still do.

It's still raining...

and raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, and raining...

(By the way, for musings on a rainy Christmas, check out my latest at Patch It will be up sometime before lunch.)

Brrrr...

Brisk winds. Rain showers. Nights in the upper 30s. I actually wore my coat outside for two days in a row.

It might not be this, but for Southern California it sure feels like winter.

Homes, Sweet Homes...

Tudor and Craftsman make grand neighbors on this stretch of El Centro. I can never decide which one I love the most. Even on cloudy days, these cheerful homes shine.

(For a darker view of South Pas, check out my latest column and video at South Pasadena Patch. You all know how much I love night prowling...)

Red Rover

I wish I had a more elegant background for this mack daddy red Cadi, but even without luxe surroundings, this car could make you feel like a million bucks.

Right on Cue...

I was admiring the multicolored bricks of the school administration building. Often, after Kaldi or the library, I'll take a moment and look at the arches. This day I lingered. Hmmmmm, I thought to myself, too bad there isn't something interesting in that bright doorway.

And then there was.

(This is the second time a cyclist has made the shot.)

Classic with a Twist

I love the peace sign sticker on the window...

Bikes and Roses

I couldn't help but grab this shot outside Barristers Garden Center. Ordinary stuff, true. But so pretty!

Saffron Diffusing

I noticed the glow of these two as they seemed to blend right into their golden background. Then I happened upon this poem:

A Life's Love Song

As the sun-beams with amber tinge shine
Through the sheaves that responsive are glowing,
Thy heart lends a glad hue to mine,
In Love's golden bloom ever growing.

Thy radiance with Love's ripening powers,
In the gleam of warm glances alluring,
Endows me with fruitage and flowers
Of a sweetness and fragrance enduring.

O Love, may thy vital rays glow
Like the sun-beams their saffron diffusing--
All thy tints on my being bestow,
My life-growths forever suffusing!

-- Henry O'Meara (1848-1904)

(I'm going to be bummed if I find out they're just friends...)

Camera Crossing

I've posted before about the abundance of film and television location shoots in South Pasadena. (Even in my own neighborhood!) Here, crew members wheel a camera across El Centro at Meridian. I bumped into three separate productions around town on the day I snapped this shot. Some may find it annoying, but I love it that my city serves as a back lot. Then again, you guys know how much I like to imagine scenes from movies...

Red Zone

Sylvia Plath saw it one way:

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Springsteen sees it like this.

My daughter calls it "mermaid hair" after Ariel's locks.

I just call it way cool.

Round Midnight

It sounds something like this.