About Urban Abstract

Urban Abstract
These photographs emphasize the colors, textures and shapes in the urban landscape: deteriorating surfaces, odd piles of stuff, remnants on which other humans have left their marks. Nature still plays a large part in enhancing the scene, using the agents of decay, time and gravity to add texture to what man has neglected. On the other hand, man tries tirelessly to maintain the appearance of his property, and that too is chronicled in these images. Every photograph in this collection was shot within the urban growth boundary of Portland, Oregon, and are named for the closest intersection to the image. Urban hikers can have fun finding the actual sites, although many have been painted over, cleaned up, bulldozed down or piled upon. It's the nature of a city.

How It All Began.
It all started when my car didn't and I was forced to leave my usual ride at Broadway Toyota. Like some weird combination lock, the 6-72-85-77 bus sequence somehow got me to work and home again later that evening. I'd hopped Max to Blazer games or sometimes downtown, but this bus business was a crash course in transit etiquette where I learned about exact change, seat sharing and right-of-way for exiting passengers versus those who enter. As the next day dawned and I was again confronted with timetables and transfers, I decided to walk to the dealership to pick up my car. This time the tumblers fell street by street: 47th-Halsey-39th-Broadway. It was on this last leg of my journey that I saw the Green Ear, one of many faux head-handles mounted on sticks above the audio electronic store's gold and blue façade. Flash bulbs went off in my brain and the sound of morning commuters became the whine of high speed film advance. I eventually collected my car, but not my thoughts, because I was already planning to retrace my steps with camera in hand. I did, and for some intuitive reason I also decided to snap the nearest street sign to chronicle the location. This has become standard operating procedure each time I depart Hollywood Transit Center bound for some untrodden neighborhood. Now, each photo is named by its closest intersection and the points they make on a Portland map have become an abstract of their urban environment.

What the Cat Dragged In.
Chances are better than average that this project would not have gotten this far if it wasn't for the addition of a second cat. The first cat's name is Boo, receiving that moniker from the character in Harper Lee's only novel. Not unlike Nathan Radley's child, this cat got in trouble with its guardian. Instead of being locked in the courthouse basement prior to home incarceration like her namesake, the cat was unceremoniously shipped off to the Oregon Humane Society. After we adopted her, Boo spent most of her time under the bed, so it was decided that a buddy might make a difference in her reclusive personality. Enter Mooji, another adoptee from OHS. Mooji was named for Mujibur Rahman. He is one of the Bangladeshi shopkeepers turned celebrities who, at the time, appeared regularly on The Late Show with David Letterman. Mooji's presence did change Boo's behavior, unfortunately uncovering the real reason she was originally given up for adoption: aggressive territoriality. Mooji is yang to Boo's yinginess, ignoring the antagonism up to the point of attack. Given the choice, Mooji would rather nap on the window sill and perhaps crack a wary eye. But commotion abounds when the two inhabit the same room without adult supervision. As a result, Boo wears a bell to let everyone know her whereabouts. It's merely a matter of human inconvenience to keep them happy and healthy; a small price to pay. Even with constant monitoring, French doors to divide the house and innumerable litter boxes placed at opposite ends of their territorial spectrums, there has never been one thought to giving a cat back. OHS places hundreds of previously unwanted cats and dogs in new homes, with people who appreciate the gift of companionship. I'm two-times appreciative, which is why I give a donation to OHS with every photo sold. Besides, the fuzz-faces both participate with the photography. Boo sits in front of the monitor when the web site needs an update. Mooji sticks her puss in the lens any time there's a still life to be shot.

	\| showing \| portfolio \| photographic art \| about \| contact \|

Urban Abstract These photographs emphasize the colors, textures and shapes in the urban landscape: deteriorating surfaces, odd piles of stuff, remnants on which other humans have left their marks. Nature still plays a large part in enhancing the scene, using the agents of decay, time and gravity to add texture to what man has neglected. On the other hand, man tries tirelessly to maintain the appearance of his property, and that too is chronicled in these images. Every photograph in this collection was shot within the urban growth boundary of Portland, Oregon, and are named for the closest intersection to the image. Urban hikers can have fun finding the actual sites, although many have been painted over, cleaned up, bulldozed down or piled upon. It's the nature of a city.
How It All Began. It all started when my car didn't and I was forced to leave my usual ride at Broadway Toyota. Like some weird combination lock, the 6-72-85-77 bus sequence somehow got me to work and home again later that evening. I'd hopped Max to Blazer games or sometimes downtown, but this bus business was a crash course in transit etiquette where I learned about exact change, seat sharing and right-of-way for exiting passengers versus those who enter. As the next day dawned and I was again confronted with timetables and transfers, I decided to walk to the dealership to pick up my car. This time the tumblers fell street by street: 47th-Halsey-39th-Broadway. It was on this last leg of my journey that I saw the Green Ear, one of many faux head-handles mounted on sticks above the audio electronic store's gold and blue façade. Flash bulbs went off in my brain and the sound of morning commuters became the whine of high speed film advance. I eventually collected my car, but not my thoughts, because I was already planning to retrace my steps with camera in hand. I did, and for some intuitive reason I also decided to snap the nearest street sign to chronicle the location. This has become standard operating procedure each time I depart Hollywood Transit Center bound for some untrodden neighborhood. Now, each photo is named by its closest intersection and the points they make on a Portland map have become an abstract of their urban environment.		What the Cat Dragged In. Chances are better than average that this project would not have gotten this far if it wasn't for the addition of a second cat. The first cat's name is Boo, receiving that moniker from the character in Harper Lee's only novel. Not unlike Nathan Radley's child, this cat got in trouble with its guardian. Instead of being locked in the courthouse basement prior to home incarceration like her namesake, the cat was unceremoniously shipped off to the Oregon Humane Society. After we adopted her, Boo spent most of her time under the bed, so it was decided that a buddy might make a difference in her reclusive personality. Enter Mooji, another adoptee from OHS. Mooji was named for Mujibur Rahman. He is one of the Bangladeshi shopkeepers turned celebrities who, at the time, appeared regularly on The Late Show with David Letterman. Mooji's presence did change Boo's behavior, unfortunately uncovering the real reason she was originally given up for adoption: aggressive territoriality. Mooji is yang to Boo's yinginess, ignoring the antagonism up to the point of attack. Given the choice, Mooji would rather nap on the window sill and perhaps crack a wary eye. But commotion abounds when the two inhabit the same room without adult supervision. As a result, Boo wears a bell to let everyone know her whereabouts. It's merely a matter of human inconvenience to keep them happy and healthy; a small price to pay. Even with constant monitoring, French doors to divide the house and innumerable litter boxes placed at opposite ends of their territorial spectrums, there has never been one thought to giving a cat back. OHS places hundreds of previously unwanted cats and dogs in new homes, with people who appreciate the gift of companionship. I'm two-times appreciative, which is why I give a donation to OHS with every photo sold. Besides, the fuzz-faces both participate with the photography. Boo sits in front of the monitor when the web site needs an update. Mooji sticks her puss in the lens any time there's a still life to be shot.