technicolour  conversation...


"the waves are small"

" Isn't the garden beautiful right now?"

"have you seen the hummingbirds on the orange cactus?"

"the bees are so loud."

" i think the waves will be bigger, later."

from the kitchen window i watch him learning

whilst i bake.

this is how they manage to finance their trip to oregon

for the shakespeare festival

hmmm ...

"what do we charge for a muffin like this?

and have you practiced your viola?"

"if owen is home i want to surf."

"the clothes will only be as nicely turned out

as you hang them"

"what time do we need to be there?"

"is there time for surfing?"

this is the pleasure 

of a technicolour conversation

with a son

on saturday.


  1. What I take away from this series is how the boy's cotton hoodie in "the laundry" speaks so accurately of the air in the sunshine of this marine setting just north of the Golden Gate. The same is true of how the muffins speak of the appetite which would have expired by now in beach settings of comparable latitude on the Atlantic coast or on inland lakes in later May. Both of these signals address the crystalline bracingness of this paradise in indispensable ways, which may be lost in landscape photographs of seemingly identifiable splendor, when so near to the west, just two low mountain ranges away, some of the most beautiful red wines on earth are grown for this very reason. Oh, no. It's very endlessly comprehensively fresh. I appreciate your inclusion of these variables. I cry, but I appreciate it.

  2. dear laurent
    one hesitates to even try here, at this time of year...
    but i have not said a word about spring
    and it's glory.

    as you know, it is not possible to make any sort of photo that doesn't seem like mere platitudes in this splendor.



  3. These make me sigh...
    And I know why.