The Gist of Things

Perspective is everything ... both in art, and in life. I was thinking a lot about perspective when I took this photo. My subject? A contemporary fountain in a neatly trimmed yard in the Monterey Hills section of South Pasadena ... the kind of fountain interior designers always install during hip shows on Home and Garden Television. It's a nice fountain. But up close, the fountain becomes something else. It's not even a fountain anymore. It's a circle on top of an inverted triangle. The water makes it look like wet plaster or unbaked clay. Without an explanation, we might not even know exactly what it is, but we'd be able to make out those shapes. And those shapes are pretty. And familiar. And comforting.

When minimalist artist Ellsworth Kelly presents a subject, he deconstructs it down to its most basic geometric shapes. His vibrant segments of color represent the structure of something. The gist. I think we could all take a lesson from Kelly and his abstract contemporaries. We've grown so used to viewing the high definition picture of the world we forget about the simple foundation. We can't see the big green block of forest for all those pesky trees.

Think about it: in our lives today, we're inundated with depressing details. We're told that we must judge our happiness by the numbers in our 401K or the equity (or lack of it) in our homes or the relative security of our jobs. We're told that even if we feel good, or happy, our blood pressure, cholesterol, triglyceride, homocysteine and bathroom scale numbers insist otherwise. We're told that things have never been more dire, even though we live in a time where we can fly from Los Angeles to New York in about 6 hours; when infections that not so distantly decimated entire populations can now be wiped out with a little Cipro; when the great libraries and museums of the world are as close as Google and the Eiffel Tower has a webcam; when we can buy a tasty bottle of wine for under $10 and put what we don't drink in a refrigerator where it will keep until we feel like drinking the rest of it.

Perspective.

Without being told how bad things are, we might just think things were pretty good. That's not to say we should ignore warnings or turn a blind eye to danger. But I do think we'd do well to get right down to the gist of things more often. Take a look at the foundation -- the pretty shapes and textures, the reality beneath the scary veil and spin -- and we might realize the bigger picture, the basic truth, is not so bad. Actually, it's quite beautiful.

Loquats in the Shade

As San Diego Farmgirl recently pointed out, citrus trees can be found in most Southern California yards. But this is the first time I've seen them in window boxes under an awning. Leave it up to one of my favorite restaurants, Wild Thyme, to make great use of this space. (I'll bet loquat jam would be great with those famous crepes...)

Viewfinder

I've received a lot of email lately from former South Pasadena residents asking for more shots of the mountains as seen from Monterey Hills.

As you wish!

It doesn't take much arm-twisting to trek up and point the camera out at this view. And for those of you who live far away but still think of South Pas as home ... this is for you.

Low Maintenance

California is now in its third consecutive year of drought. Recently, Governor Schwarzenegger proclaimed a state of emergency and ordered immediate action to manage the crisis. (You can read more about it here.) With water in such scarce supply, I'm glad I decided last year to plant succulents in many of my containers and flower beds. They thrive on being ignored ... and they look like otherworldly creatures from a science fiction movie. Who says you can't have a colorful garden with little water?

The Good Life

The ancient Greeks called it Eudaimonia -- a melodic sounding, high-brow word that loosely translates to happiness, but that refers to an ideal existence where humanity is flourishing. Thriving. Living The Good Life. No matter how fortunate we are, we will always strive for the idea of something better.

Plato was convinced The Good Life could be found in walking a virtuous path, free of desires. Buddhists seem to share that line of reasoning. Thoreau insisted it was woven into the fabric of nature. Marx thought it could be found only after the end of capitalism. Milton Friedman believed it would happen at the hands of an ever-bountiful free market. Poets, musicians and artists have looked for it in any number sunsets and moonbeams -- and a few hookah pipes, wine glasses and pill bottles. The nightly news would have us believe that our economy -- sad, listless, terminal thing -- no longer offers any hope of The Good Life, that we are headed for another great Depression. (And that thought has given everybody great depression.)

Back in the late 80s, I worked for a writer who was born in 1900. She had been a struggling mother with a sick husband during most of the years of the Depression. I asked her once what it had been like to get through it. She laughed and said something like, "Well, we didn't sit around at the dinner table and talk about The Depression. We didn't even know that word. We just had fun and did the best we could. We got by during the bad times, and waited for the good times that eventually came." She was so optimistic, despite many devastating aspects of her life: losing a child to disease, losing a brother and a son in two different wars, losing a home during a hurricane, losing the sight in both eyes, losing her husband to Lou Gehrig's disease. But when I knew her, during the last of her many years, she always said, "This is the good life." And she was right.

I'm sure the little girl in this picture will look back on this time not as the year when the stock market fell apart and the sub prime mortgage crisis instigated a terrible economic downturn. Nope. I'm pretty sure remember it the year she was a princess at her birthday party. The one where she got the biggest pinata she'd ever seen, that spilled out more candy than she could eat.

Now that's The Good Life.

Rock On

I don't know if it is a mystical experience like some insist, but stacking rocks certainly has become an unlikely Luddite-style pastime in these technological times. (YouTube has at least 27 videos dedicated to it!) I've seen these miniature Stonehenges on hiking trails, at the beach, in parks ... and here alongside a South Pas driveway.

Walking on El Centro...

On this stroll toward the Arroyo, you'll see a lot of familiar things: a couple of Craftsman bungalows sandwiched between two Victorian era American Foursquares, uneven sidewalks next to heritage trees, white picket fences, a smattering of river rock, citrus growing in a yard, and -- of course -- a palm tree. (The only thing missing is a vintage car...)

Just add water...

The brief rain yesterday may have kept me from taking many pictures ... but it also provided a lovely opportunity to indulge into my inner lomographer. If you'll recall, this philosophy of photography began with a simple point and shoot Russian film camera, and the motto, "don't think, just shoot."

I didn't think. I just shot out of my car's sunroof. And I like the resulting poetry of those elegant wet palms peeking through raindrops.

Subliminal

If you ever need an excuse to skip your commute and play hooky, you might be tempted by that message on the platform. Decisions, decisions...

Spiffy Ride

And to think... before I moved to South Pas I used to go weeks and even months without seeing a vintage car.

I wonder how long I can keep up this trend?

Top of the World

Okay, kids. We know that South Pasadena has a lot of interesting home architecture. Let's review. Craftsman? Check. Victorian? Check. Spanish, Traditional, Midcentury Modern? Check, check, check. That leaves cool contemporary houses precariously clinging to the side of the hill...

Check!

Dark View (and Bright Glass)

"In photography," August Sander once said, "there are no shadows that cannot be illuminated."

True.

But on nights like this ... why on earth would you want to?

UPDATE:
The first of every month is Theme Day for those participating in the City Daily Photo blogging community. This month's theme is Glass.

And this month I completely spaced out and forgot about it.

I suppose I can pretend that I intended this image to be included because it showcases those pretty glass store windows playing with the shadows along the sidewalk. But who am I kidding?

So instead,Click here to view thumbnails for all participants of Theme Day who actually remembered to post appropriate pictures!