I recall in my dreams last night a scene where I was looking through a fence at the perimeter of a NASA airfield. A foreboding of some calamity contrasted with the peacefulness and serenity of the lights in the distance.


It was warm last night. Two fan warm: one fan drawing cool air into the bedroom, one fan moving it redirecting it over the bed. I’d been at a gathering of photographers in the evening and gone to bed early, dog tired from enjoying myself a little too much. The noise of the fans slowly droned into my skull and I awoke, restive, at 3am. 

I knew I’d have to get some more sleep but it was escaping me for that moment, so I padded out to the living room and opened the laptop. I remembered that I had some pictures on the laptop that I was working on, casually, and went to them. An early morning walk in the luscious fog of Anacortes, Washington greeted me. I was there for a workshop hosted by Brook Jensen of LensWork magazine. A grand time, an excellent workshop. I want the workshop I am doing this week to be of a similar inspirational nature … a high water mark to aim for, for sure, but there you have it. I’m hard on myself. 

In the fog, beyond the fence, materials and structures of the shipyard across the street from the magazine’s quarters softly, serenely wait for the activity of the day. I love this time of morning. 

No foreboding present. Excitement only: the Photoshop workshop starts tomorrow evening. This is going to be fun! … 


I love the fog.