As the regular blog readers might know, when blues guitarist Eric Sardinas comes to town I sound like a little fanboy and rave about his “sold his soul to the devil” guitar-playing abilities. Today (29 June 2008) he was at the Irvine Lake Blues Festival. Only 15 minutes from Tustin Ranch and El Toro (and all their citified glory), Irvine Lake (CA) feels like it’s 1000 miles away in rural nowheresville. Harleys abound, and cowboys are as common here as in Fresno.

“Eric Sardinas and Big Motor” went on around 2, and it was hot out … and daytime. There’s something odd about a band playing in the daylight; it’s just not as intense as when they’re in some dark club. There was a substitute drummer (the drummer for Edgar Winter, apparently). Normally I wouldn’t have paid any attention … but he made the most intense, somewhat unsettling faces. Most of the time you could only see the whites of his eyes… and in the couple of pictures posted below, it might have been better NOT to see his eyes. But he made up for it by being dead-on with the band, an amazing feat for never before playing with them.

Sardinas was great. If blues were rock and roll, his style would be considered heavy metal; it’s brash, fast, hard-edged … and intense, even in the heat of midday Irvine.

Here’s a quick clip shot by my friend Anthony with a small still-camera that does video. It ends abruptly and doesn’t have the best sound… but you can get a little idea of how Sardinas uses the pole to play his guitar, creates Hendrix-like feedback, and generally just rips it up.

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Saw this quote today. Don’t know who the guys is, but love it anyway.

“I’m kind of jealous of the life I’m supposedly leading.”
- Zach Braff

So, today I “served” my civic duty, jury duty. (I say “served” in quotes because I didn’t actually get chosen for a jury, but I did finish my obligation.) Anyone who heard I was going wondered why I hadn’t found some excuse to postpone. I do believe it’s an obligation to the community, though, and had postponed several times in the past. So I went (fortunately, just a few blocks down the street).

It was intriguing. Yes, there was a fair amount of waiting. But there was wireless internet connections, so it wasn’t bad … I just worked most of the time. In the courtroom, one lawyer (defense) was silver-tongued and not too visually polished … but likable. The other (for the State) was a jury-trial virgin, extra slick-looking … yet very amateur-sounding. He wasn’t really helping the State too much, I don’t think. The judge seemed eminently fair, what you would hope for if he was your judge in a trial. And as poor of an opinion as I have of some of our US citizens, I was actually really impressed by the fair, reasonable, and generally intelligent nature of the jury pool that I saw.

The one thing that I would complain about is the breaks … between 8:00 am and 2:00 pm, there were (in reality) nearly 3 hours of breaks. If the courts were a little more efficient in the “break” arena, they’d probably only need half the jurors.

Was today a costly (to me) exercise in democracy? Yes … but worth it.

(written in Rocky Point Mexico on about Sunday, June 1st … and just now getting posted)

After catching a dozen or so fish in the Sea of Cortez, I usually feel like eating a great lunch, then reading a book until I fall into a nap. So that’s exactly what I did.

(I might even have had dreams of these crazy vans — no, better — crazy tractors driving boats named Rambo into the sea)

After such a long day, we did some of our retreat work (hours, actually) followed by a very nice dinner of local shrimp.

And after the previous night’s ocean experience (glowing tide) I’d been dying to go midnight kayaking.

Paddling straight away from the brightly lit house, we headed into a land of visual deprivation. A thin fog made the water indistinguishible from the sky, and I could see nothing sharp nor faint ahead.

Soon the previous night’s magical glow began again. With each dip of our paddle into the water, a green glow of bubbles would give color and life to the moonless, monoworld in front of us. The bow of the small ’sit on top’ kayak left a colored glowing V in the water. A couple startled fish appeared to be glowsticks shooting through the water.

When we stopped paddling for a moment, the silence, the dark, the mist all only enhanced the lights which popped on and off all under and around the kayak … looking like a million fireflys under the water, like reflections of a night sky performing the Christmas tree dance, like fairy dust you would see in a Tolkien-based movie. (And no, this recounting was not made nor recorded under any influence.)

As a visual artist, it kills me that this experience can only be shared via words. I know that it doesn’t read like much, but it was a really amazing moment … a highlight of the trip (if not the year). Once again, experiences like this are — like I mentioned in the previous “wax sentimental” Mexico piece — are The Why of it all.

By the way, have you ever seen the human-like hard-as-a-rock, can-bite-your-finger-off teeth of a trigger fish?

Or maybe a fishing trawler with 1000 people on it for the local Sea Festival?

Or maybe the deltas left by 24-foot daily tidal variances?

Have you ever had those times when no matter what you did, it just wasn’t meant to be?

I was determined to watch the Lakers vs Celtics in Game 4 of the NBA Finals tonight. But I was supposed to do some consulting. Consulting gets cancelled … perfect! But then dinner plans interrupt. So I Tivo (not actually Tivo brand, but who uses DVR as a verb?) … I record the game.

Post-dinner: It’s 11pm, and I’ve managed to be on news blackout so that I don’t hear the final score. I head to the Tivo and watch the game, most of it anyway, the Lakers up by 24 early, then losing their lead. As the Celtics make a huge and dramatic comeback … and finally tie up the game with about 8 minutes to go … I realize that my Tivo only has 11 minutes of recording time left. There’s no way that the last 8 minutes of a basketball came can be seen in 11 minutes … more like 16 minutes. Damn it. The Tivo stopped recording before the end of the game … with only about 2 minutes left of gameplay!

But, I think, at least I can watch the next 6 minutes of the game, and maybe find a way to watch the last couple of minutes online. But no … right then the TV — my beloved 42-inch flat screen HD beauty — right then it POPS and I smell something … and sure enough: It’s dead. Yes, seriously, the TV just keels over dead at this point.

I begin to search the internet for ways to watch replays of the games, but I’m trying to search without coming across news about TONIGHT’s game, because knowing the final score of course pretty much kills the fun of watching the last 5 minutes of a great game. I finally end up reading someone’s play-by-play blog … but really, it’s not anywhere near the same. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

(A few hours from Saturday, May 31 at a business retreat in Rocky Point — at the top of the Sea of Cortez)

The fresh-cooked enchiladas are followed by a rousing game of Jenga (surprisingly fun, especially with a few modifications). We realize that with no moon and no major cities in 100 miles, the Milky Way is actually milky — amazingly bright as it arcs over the house and sinks into the pitch black ocean just 50 feet away from our table.

The music plays over the sound system as various people drift off to bed. A few lay out watching the stars, and I and a friend head down to the water. It is eerily dark as I wade in to the midnight sea, but warm and somehow safe.

The stars are the only reflection, but little starbursts of light surprise us. As I tread water a million little stars of bioluminescent plankton bloom and fade around me, as if they were a magical spell cast in a movie.

We flick on the little flashlight for a few seconds. It attracts jumping fish, which startle as at first and then amuse us with their rock-skipping antics.

A fast-moving light in the sky gets my attention, and I see the tail of a large shooting star streak then disappear, already only a memory practically as soon as it was seen.

We head up the beach and chat more with the friends as Pink Floyd plays on, then head in to luxurious bedrooms and a 7am wakeup to go fishing.

This is what all the work is for, the headaches and stress of a business, the sacrifices over the years … it’s the simple magic of the moments like these.

A few images from earlier in the day…

As if we really had a downtown … and as if it were here …

Here are just a few new shots of the Santa Ana Water Tower (sounds exciting, huh!?!?) as well as the Santiago Street Lofts (in Orange County, California).

May 22, 2008 - Three days ago it was 104 degrees as I commuted to a project near Moreno Valley in Southern California. Today I left Santa Ana in the midst of a near flash flood. The rain was coming down so hard I had to turn around at Tustin Ave. or risk being swept away in a river of water crossing the road. Wild weather for Southern California … even in winter.

At 8:30pm — on my way home — I pull off at Moreno Beach Dr for gas. ($4.17/gallon, by the way). I see what looks like dirt on the side of the road … lots of it … and it appears to be steaming. I realize, as my lights hit it, that it’s white. I realize that it’s snow. Lots of it.

There’s a good 4 inches of snow covering the ground, everywhere. It covers the plants, has piled up in the parking lot, it’s everywhere.

So, like any good west coaster, I act like I’ve never seen snow before in my life and take cell phone pictures of it … and then post them to the blog. (Wouldn’t you?)

In other news, I bought 2 airplane tickets from Florence, Italy to Romania today for approximately 3 cents total (2 euro cents to be exact), including tax. Now I just have to figure out how to get to Florence .. and how to get out of Romania. (Yes, it was one of those random days.)

At last, I finally have a conspiracy theory of my own … and it’s TRUE! I can prove it.

Secretly the designers of the iPhone clearly hate certain locales. One of these locales — albeit deservedly so — is Hemet, California. For instance, try to type Hemet in a text message. THE FINAL “T” WILL NEVER WORK. The letters around it work, but you cannot directly type the final letter T.

hemet ……. H … E … M … E …. R (?!?!?)

They don’t hate it so much that autocorrect won’t work, and it usually fixes itself. But still … clearly a conspiracy.

Now, I’ve only tried this so far on 3 iPhones, so perhaps it’s somehow localized… but really, it’s the strangest thing. There are probably other words out there, so if you want to add to The Great iPhone Conspiracy, add your “untypeable” words to the comments below.

(PS: I have a theory on why this happens, but that’s no fun. For now let’s just keep it a secret little conspiracy, just between you, me, and our 80,000 past readers.)

It’s really easy to take good pictures of my nephew Branson, he’s soooo cute. Here are a couple from Mother’s Day (May 14, 2008):

But it would also be easy (actually, easier) to mess up these shots. My mom (shown with Branson in the next picture) asked me what it is that makes my pictures look good. There are 4 basics — including the easiest “trick” of them all — that anyone can do to make their images look great:

1. Have a great subject that tells an emotional story. Clearly this is the key to any great photo … if you can tell a story and if you can interact emotionally with the viewer, then you’ve done your job as a photographer. Have a great subject, know the story you’re telling, and make sure you capture it.

2. Be able to identify the great shots. I take a lot of shots. On Mother’s Day I was hardly took any pictures … for me. That means I only took about 100 shots throughout the day — of which I liked perhaps 4. This is THE BIGGEST SECRET TRICK of all good photographers: Eliminate 98% or more of your shots, and only show the very, very best. With this trick, pretty much anyone’s work can look good. Of course, this requires that you can IDENTIFY the great shots, that you’ve got the technical aspects handled, and that you captured a good subject … but this is the easiest way to improve your photography: Only show your very best images.

3. Find great light. Always, always be looking for great light. Where is it coming from? What is its quality? Is it hard light or soft light, one source or multiples, dramatic or bland? I actually bought my loft based upon the quality of the light here: huge windows with the sun coming in just right means it’s easy to shoot here. But no matter where I am, if I see soft, natural, beautiful light then I can’t but help think about pictures. My “trigger finger” actually gets itchy … it’s funny. Know what good light looks like, and start recognizing and mentally cataloging those places where you can find or make it.

4. Know your tools! As in any art, you cannot seamlessly create what you want unless you have a mastery of the tools. Start with the basics: read your camera’s manual and buy Photoshop’s “Classroom in a Book”. Practice and drill both. Know your tools first, this is the foundation for being able to accomplish any of these points.

In the photos here, the reason the pictures look technically okay is (a) I used a good lens for portraits (50mm) with a low aperture setting to create a shallow depth-of-field. If you don’t know what this means, then you don’t know your equipment… and therefore you’re not going to get the shots you want, and (b) I used Photoshop to its full capabilities to create the beautiful black & white tones.

There’s always more, of course, but if you capture an emotional subject technically well and in great light, and only show the best images from your shoot … then you’re 95% of the way to an amazing photograph.