Just the Opposite

While I was at the Viewpoint today, the sun was shining, but along the edge, everything was in shade. There were cast shadows on the tops of the trees, many yards into the space above the park below, but then everything beyond this was drenched in golden sunlight. It occurred to me that this is just the opposite of the situation after dark, when all things along the edge--including the Sentinel, the Lovers, the ferns and the blackberry bushes--is illuminated, while after a certain number of yards of cast light on the treetops, you see nothing but darkness, except where there are artificial lights--or moonlight.

The Mountain Ash Tree and the Ceramicists of Rishtan

I stopped by the Viewoint just briefly today. Again, it was sunny there but overcast and windy on the bay. I thought I'd go again, a little later, to take some photos, but then it began raining in torrents. That doesn't always stop me, but today I'm not in the mood to get wet. I'll stay in until it clears up--if it clears up--and finish my Klatch drawing, which I didn't quite get done earlier today. Since morning I've been thinking about the ceramicists of Rishtan who were here this summer and their magnificent blue and turquoise pottery. Looking out the window, I see a gray house, which would almost match the sky in color, if the sky were a little darker or the house a little lighter. There's a tall mountain ash tree in the front yard of the house. The tree is laden with orange-red berries. When it's not so wet, the birds flock to it in great number.

Two Black Poodles

Although the sun showed itself any number of times today, it was basically an overcast day--and also a windy one. For a while it was sunny at the Viewpoint at the same time that it was overcast down on the bay. A woman came along with two black poodles. I asked how old they were. Although they looked just about alike to me, she replied that one was a year and a half, while the other was eight. She said that the year-and-a-half-old one was an eternal puppy. At least that's how I remember it--several hours from when she said it. It's terrible how easy it is to forget things. It would make more sense if she had said the eight-year-old was an eternal puppy. That would have made a more logical story, wouldn't it? One dog is young, while the other is old. But the old one is an eternal puppy! That has a little more poetry to it, doesn't it? And so my mind wants to remember it this way. This is just how stories get corrupted. Our memories have a tendency to go with what has a logical flow--a sort of balance--regardless of whether this was the case with whatever situation we encountered or heard about. This is why I don't put complete trust in anything I read. And that includes things I've written myself.

In My Mind's Eye

Today was a beautiful day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. But I didn't make it to the Viewpoint. However I can see in my mind's eye how it must have looked. No doubt, here and there I could have seen a little yellow in the leaves of the Sentinel. I started a Klatch drawing, even though it wasn't Tuesday. Maybe I'll entitle it In My Mind's Eye.

As the Sun Drops Lower

Union Bay, Early Evening (I), Sept. 23, 2009 

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Union Bay, Early Evening (II), Sept. 23, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Union Bay and Hunter's Point, Early Evening, Sept. 23, 2009

Copyright © Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

As the sun drops lower, I think of the music of Chopin. A sailboat with a white sail slowly makes its way across Union Bay. A man approaches with two little short-haired dogs with spots over their faces. It would have made a wonderful photo if I were a more skilled photographer, or at least quicker to react to the situation. I love the look of a dog being led on a leash around the curve of the edge.

A Somewhat Different View of the Same Thing

View of Union Bay from Lakeview Cemetery, Sept. 22, 2009 

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

From the cemetery you get a good view of Union Bay--different from the one you see from the Viewpoint, in that you're looking at it from a higher vantage point, and you see just little bits of water in between the trees, which makes for an interesting effect.

Crows

Crow on a Wire, Sept. 14, 2009

 Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

One can observe birds of a large number of species in and around the parks below the Viewpoint. Let's start with the crows. Sometimes huge numbers of them congregate in the treetops just below the Viewpoint, making a terrific racket. I'm always fascinated by this. They're very active in the cemetery across the street, too.

A Few Days Ago

A Few Days Ago, Sept.14, 2009

 Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

I almost forgot about this photo. I took it a few days ago, on my way to the Viewpoint. For me, these flowers speak to the bounty of fall and, at the same time, to the sadness I sometimes feel as the days grow short.

The Head of the Trail: A Second Version

Head of the Trail, Second Version

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

An Interesting Conversation

Approaching Couple, Sept. 20, 2009 

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

I had an interesting conversation with a couple I met at the Viewpoint today. I had my tripod set up and was taking photos when they came walking along. We talked about quite a variety of things, including Wisconsin, Walla Walla, German and Scots Irish immigrants, ancestors, DNA testing and much more. As we spoke, I took photos of the view. Other than a few clouds, low on the horizon, it was very clear today, and quite warm. I noticed a number of sailboat on Union Bay.

 

The Bay Today, Sept. 20, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

I took several photos of the "Lovers"--the oak tree with two trunks. I'm realizing all of a sudden that I'm not clear on whether this is actually just one tree, or two.

The Lovers, Sept. 20, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

When I look at the view, my gaze returns repeatedly to the bay. I'm not sure why, but I love to follow around the edge with my eye.

A Second Look At the Bay, Sept. 20, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

I've met so many people at the Viewpoint over the years that I can't begin to remember them all. People are strangely open when they step into its space. They'll tell you all their problems, their life story--whatever comes into their minds. It's without question a strange, beautiful and transformative place--as is the park below.

Generally, incidentally, light

The Dirty Shed

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Tonight was the last night of Generally, incidentally, light--Sol Hashemi and Jason Hirata's show at the Dirty Shed. Many thanks to Eric Fredericksen and Betsey Brock for exhibiting and hosting this very interesting piece in its many iterations. Above and below are a few photos I took at the event this evening. My thanks to Hirata and Hashemi for permitting me to take these photos and to post them here.

Entrance to the Dirty Shed

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

The Optigan

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

The Elephant

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Spectators

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Wearing Gloves (I)

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Two Spots of Light

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Wearing Gloves (II)

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Like a Sawhorse

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Watching the Action

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Floorboards--Like Dominoes

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

Looking Into the Crawl Space

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

The Garden

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

The House, With Lights

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

 

Looking Back In, On My Way Out

digital photograph by Paul D. Natkin, September 19, 2009

The Church Up the Hill, Sept. 19, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

The Viewpoint and the Cemetery

The Cemetery and the Viewpoint, Seen from Above, July, 2008

 Copyright © 2008 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

What Is This?

Where is this? (Sept 17, 2009)

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

I've mentioned some strong lights I sometimes see from the Viewpoint when it's dark. I think they're stadium lights, but if so, the stadium is definitely not Husky Stadium.

The Rock at the Head of the Trail

The Head of the Trail, Sept. 16, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

I've mentioned the rock at the head of the trail. It's next to a laurel bush. It's quite a large rock. Photographer after photographer has stood at this spot and taken photo after photo of the incredible scene from this vantage point. The view includes Boren Park, Interlaken Park, Montlake, the Arboretum, the University Bridge, the University of Washington Campus, Husky Stadium, the Wildlife Refuge, Union Bay, Laurelhurst, Lake Washington, the floating bridge (520) Kirkland, Bellevue, the Cascade Mountains and much, much more.

The Rock, Sept 16., 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Warmer Today

View of  the Bay, Sept. 15, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Today is definitely warmer than yesterday. I see less of the purplish, or lavender, hue in the air. There were four people at the Viewpoint when I dropped by today--all men in the range of about forty-five to fifty-five. They just sat and stared into the distance most of the time--or smoked. I took a few photos, using my tripod.

Around the Bay

 

Around the Bay, Sept. 14, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

 

Around the bay there was a little red in the leaves on some of the trees, and I observed a somewhat hazy and slightly lavender quality in the colors in this area. I saw a friend walking his small white dog and another on the way home from work. Several joggers passed through in the few minutes that I was at the Viewpoint. I took a number of photographs, but not one photo captured the essence of the place. As I've pointed out earlier, the problem is that when I take a shot that shows what an expanse the view encompasses, then the intriguing details are no longer visible. And when I focus on the details, the breadth of the view is no longer apparent.

The Viewpoint, Seen from Above

The Viewpoint, Seen from Above, July, 2008

Copyright © 2008 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Seen from above, the Viewpoint appears to be nothing of any great consequence. It's complexity cannot be discerned.

The Viewpoint in Summer

 

The Viewpoint in Summer, Summer, 2009

Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

It was sort of cold and gray at the Viewpoint earlier this evening. As so often, a group of teenagers was clustered around the three-sided bench encircling the laurel tree. As I approached, they dispersed like a nervous flock of birds. One of them--a guy--commented wryly as he walked away, "Great weather for photos!" It's hard to believe it was just summer.

Illumination, or Lack Thereof

If you go to the Viewpoint after dark, you see a beautiful array of lights in the great expanse that makes up the "view" one sees from the Viewpoint. Some of the lights are orangish, some bluish, others white. Some are red, some are green; some are bright, some dull.Without carefully examining their configuration, you might think that every night the lights are the same. In fact, just which lights are shining where changes a good deal from night to night. The more you know about where each light is, the more you can begin to understand about the social or demographic patterns governing their illumination or lack thereof. By contrast, the moon, planets and stars appear and disappear with no relationship to human activity, with the exception of the effects of pollution on the visibility of the celestial bodies in the night sky.

Thirty-Two, Two and Four

 

Burning Bright
Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

archival felt pen and watercolor on Arches 140 lb. cold-pressed paper; 4" x 6"

The main walkway at the Viewpoint consists of sections of concrete divided by wooden slats. There are thirty-two of these slats. The two smaller walkways at the south end of the park are also made up of sections of concrete divided by wooden slats. Of the two, the walkway that points a bit to the west, going out of the park, has two slats, while the walkway that points a bit to the east, going out of the park, has four slats.

I've mentioned the moon any number of times, but I've neglected a planet--the one I saw shining bright as could be as I looked south over the Viewpoint tonight. It's Jupiter, I believe.

Blue Genie

Blue Genie
Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved 
archival felt pen, watercolor and gouache on Arches cold-pressed 140 lb. paper; 4" x 6"

When I was at the Viewpoint this evening, I noticed that the five lights that illuminate the park after dark do cast some light onto the trees growing in the ravine below. You don't much see this cast light unless you walk under the laurel tree, where there's no light shining in your eyes, our you walk right up to the edge and look outwards, towards the view. I'll have to deal with this further.

White Sky

There was a little breeze at the Viewpoint when I stopped by about an hour ago. There were no unusual effects that I could discern. The sky was more or less white. I picked up a few stray cans and had a short conversation with someone I know, as he came passing by. Each time I see the Viewpoint, it's a painting in my mind.

Like Birds

I stopped by the Viewpoint this evening. There was a circle of five or six young people, probably in their late teens or twenties, sitting in a circle to one side of the laurel tree. They were talking up a storm, but once I walked into the center of the park, they suddenly grew silent. I didn't go any closer to them. It's like birds--you don't go too near, or they might take off in a hurry.

Waning Moon

The moon has waned a bit since the other night, but with the clouds this evening, the scene at the Viewpoint was nevertheless spectacular. I took a couple pictures with my phone, but I don't know how much of an image I'll get on either of them, once I upload them. And to try to put in words such a complex and unfamiliar arrangement of light and dark and various subtle colors would be almost pointless. Let me just say that it was an image worthy of the most vivid dream.

There was no one else at the Viewpoint except for some teenagers in an SUV on the neighboring street, and they disappeared soon after I arrived.

The smell of sage was in the damp air. As I walked, I encountered a snail. How easily I could have accidentally crushed it under my foot! The word "hapless" crossed my mind.

Sunny and Windy

Green and gold and blue and gray and white and pale red. Not pink--but pale red. These were the colors I saw from the Viewpoint today. It was sunny and windy. Large cumulus clouds passing quickly overhead made for a very dynamic light and color situation, especially in the area of the bay, where the water was visibly choppy, even as seen by the naked eye. I took a couple photos with my phone.

Sol Hashemi and Jason Hirata at the Dirty Shed

A week has passed since I last saw Jason Hirata and Sol Hashemi's work at the Dirty Shed--a DIY gallery at the home of Eric Fredericksen and Betsey Brock, in a more or less empty garage adjoining their back yard. Since I took some notes that night, and it was my second visit, I'm not going to completely forget the experience anytime soon. But, because memory fades--or shifts--as the days go by, I'd better get around to writing something about the show before it starts to be too late.

What would I call these guys? Painters of night? Surgeons of Light? Orchestrators of Fun and Fright? If Hirata and Hashemi's work were a painting, it would be a Neo Rauch. And if it were a T.V. show--Home Improvement. Well, maybe a dream you'd have if you watched a re-run of Home Improvement, looked at a book on Neo Rauch and then fell asleep at a party in a Seattle back yard on a balmy evening.

By now, several other people have written about the show, which is entitled Generally, incidentally, light. They did a much better job than I did of finding out how various elements of the show were made. Rather than duplicate that sort of information here, I prefer to refer you to their pieces, which are accompanied by photos:
Joey Veltkamp: http://joeyveltkamp.blogspot.com/2009/08/generally-incidentally-light.html, Jen Graves: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/in-art-news/Content?oid=1976340, Regina Hackett: http://www.artsjournal.com/anotherbb/2009/08/passing-strange.html.
(Have I missed anyone?) If a critic's job is to write about shows succinctly and incisively, comparing, contrasting, drawing connections between the work at hand and the work or practice of other artists, living or deceased, then I have little chance of becoming a critic. Anyway, this blog was just supposed to be about the Viewpoint and the phases of the moon--and remembering things that have been forgotten.

There's so much to tell about this show, it's hard to know where to begin. Well, at the entrance, I guess. In the driveway leading to the back yard, there was a slab of marble--or was it concrete--tilted backwards somewhat and facing the street, with the words "Dirty Shed" painted on it in roughly-painted blue letters. You walked past this sign, down the driveway, and then you had to open a gate. It took me a second to decide whether to pull it or push it to get in. I'm still not sure I did it the right way. Then you had to walk a few more paces through the remainder of the driveway before entering the back yard. I think I've got that right . On the south side of the yard, near the entrance, was a wheelbarrow full of small slabs of marble of different hues, which looked like they could have been castoffs from someone who engraves headstones. Just beyond this wheelbarrow, you came to a portable basketball hoop.

The back yard, with its various decorations, had a vaguely Japanese-paper-lantern, vaguely German-beer-garden atmosphere--but at the same time was so Seattle. Odd, repetitive music with more or less no melody was playing, Christmas lights of a couple colors were strung up, and many plants were growing in pots and flower beds, and on walls. A number of people, mostly belonging to Seattle's art crowd, were chatting while standing around, or sitting in wooden chairs, which were arranged in a circle around a trough containing logs for making a fire. A table was set up for serving drinks and snacks. And there was something like an electric toy piano to the side of the snacks and drinks area. I'll get to the yard in more detail after I describe the inside of the shed.

The "Dirty Shed," painted gray, is situated on the east side of the property, with its entrance on its west side. In other words, the shed is immediately east of the yard. What follows is a rough inventory of its contents--at least those that were brought in for the show. It was sometimes hard to tell what was a piece by the artists and what was a permanent part of the shed. In the end, it didn't really matter. The entire environment became their work, including all that happened from the beginning of the evening till the end.

Dirty Shed, West Wall, North Half:
A small tinsel piece, colored green, purple and gold--something like a Christmas-tree decoration or party favor. This was tucked into some crevice or crack, I think.

Dirty Shed, North Wall:
A four-pronged pitchfork hung, prongs up, on the wall. Intersecting it were two rows of little rectangular wood plaques with droll vignettes made from stickers on each. These included, but weren't limited to, the following images:
A dog with a cracker box (or did it just say "Crackers" over the dog?)
A werewolf (represented by just its head) with a yellow-glitter-centered white flower in its hair
A Tyranosaurus Rex skeleton with a red and white target superimposed on it.
A rake with a flashlight hung from its handle.
A giant diamond ring behind a cordon.
Three gold coins, labeled "25 cents," "50 cents" and "$5," dropping from above onto a maroon gurney.
A dog with a shopping list. (Was this dog a collie?)
A solemn figure, or figurine, (of the Pope, or a cardinal???) on a pedestal surrounded by something with three-sections--a mirror or screen, I think.
A camera with glasses
A rifle with a gold snowflake (and a glass?) over it.
A red car (a Chevy?) with camping supplies and a campfire on top of it

To the right (east) of this was a video of the highway as seen through the rear window of a truck, or SUV. Spare tire on right. (Reading Regina Hackett's review, I learned that this is a video of Hashemi and Hirata on their way to the Dirty Shed with neon light bulbs.
A silver computer tower with a Secure-A-Pen on top of it.
Photo of composite images of stained concrete, with an off-white trapezoid form painted on top of it.
A vertically placed piece of marble with a sticker towards the top reading:
HORROR
MOVIE NIGHT
In the corner: a fluorescent light bulb.

Dirty Shed, East wall:
A piece of marble with a red sticker leaned against the wall. The text of the sticker read:
RETURN
OF THE KILLER
GUITAR

A photo, unframed, of a chocolate birthday cake with big flakes of shaved chocolate on it and different-colored trick candles with a connecting strip in back. (I've forgotten the name for these candles.) A black plastic cake holder underneath the cake. A human hand (of a male?) holding an orange BIC lighter coming in from the top of the right side. The photo was pinned with clear plastic push-pins, just at the top.

Another marble piece, with a sticky at the top.

A photo in a plastic container, placed high on the wall. The photo said in black letters at the bottom: "Surprise." The image was of a little boy with somewhat spikey blond hair lying on a brown bench with three slats for a back. He was wearing a shirt with black stripes around the torso and red stripes around long sleeves. He had a red suspender showing on his left side. Or was it the strap of a bag he had over his shoulder? A tawny-colored dog was asleep on the floor in front of him, its head facing toward the right side of the photo. To the left of the boy on the bench was a large potted plant on a pedestal. Swedish ivy and red philodendrons were jumbled together.

Dirty Shed, South Wall:
As you rounded the bend to the south wall, you came to a piece of black plastic. This was there for utilitarian purposes, it was explained to me.
Four drawings pinned to the wall. Roughly drawn geometric figures in blue paint on white paper. Underneath them another small slab of marble with an inscription at the top: "EEK!"--in red letters, I believe, although I forgot to record it.
A leaning piece - cut glass. A chandelier ball at tend of silver beaded chain, suspended over mini-flashlight illuminating pointed upwards balanced on a large, mostly red with blue and yellow matchbox with a flame logo and the inscription, "FRED MEYER Matches for Camp and Kitchen."

Dirty Shed, West Wall, South Half:
On a piece of pegboard, painted white:
Two vertical rows of miniature beer cans, a gold bungee cord, a miniature red ax with a silver rim and another ax, higher up. A black reel of light blue nylon fishing line. A necklace--or a section of a necklace--with linked gold rings -- in each of them a little white dove.

Sliding Door (Door of the Shed):
A drawing, adhered to the inside of the door, of a sunrise (or sunset?) over the sea, in pale tones, with three silver quasi-geometric asteroids in the air. (See my description, below, of the photo on the side of the house. These two pieces were somewhat similar.)

Actions by Hirata and Hashemi Within the Shed:
At times, both Hashemi and Hirata wore gloves, but most of the time Hashemi had his off. The two artists talked back and forth, asking for each other's opinion on what they should do next, etc.
Three-way neon piece.
Lifting floorboard in back. Inserting light fixture.
Domino effect with lifted floorboards adjacent to south wall of shed.
Light fixture upside down _______. (I've forgotten something here.)
Lifting up other floorboards exposed broken-up concrete.
Crawl space underneath with dried and live weeds, grass and cobwebs.
An operation with a three-pronged neon light bulb that ended up getting broken. It's still not clear to me whether this was accidental or intentional.
Little blue elephant with flashlight at rear end: It wandered.
Two balanced fixtures of two neon bulbs each with a chain with another faceted crystal ball at the end.
Three more neon bulb fixture pieces.
One balancing piece between a computer monitor and what looked like a white/gray marble tombstone with no inscriptions.
Lots of power extension cords connecting to a central four-switch, 2 x 4 plug outlet.
Suede gloves.

Outside the Garage:
As I exited the garage, I noticed that just outside the garage door, to the north, was a little slab of marble with a a design painted on it. It was a pattern of concentric circles, broken by radials at 12 o'clock, 3 o'clock, six o'clock and nine o'clock. The outer circles were pinkish red and orange. The inner circles were blue and purple. I guess you could say it was something like a rainbow of concentric circles.

Next I noticed a red humming bird feeder, hung from the eaves of the Dirty Shed, to the north of the door. My notes say something about yellow or white flowers. I believe this refers to a flower pattern on the humming bird feeder.

There was another piece of very tangible artwork outside the garage. This was a photo against the east side of the house. In my notes I've described this as a "mechanical hardware asteroid with bungee cords on a light blue/aqua background, with white borders, adhered to the wall with strapping tape in four places." I remember this piece, but not well enough to decipher the phrase "mechanical hardware asteroid." I do recall thinking for a second, when I saw it, of Magritte's floating rocks (http://www.walkongrass.com/xperimental/projects_new%20atlantis/new_atlantis.htm).

On the north side of the back yard: beans--or no, maybe a clematis plant--on a trellis against a white garage. Artichokes in bloom: purple flowers. Tomatoes? No--potatoes, I believe. Tall cabbage plants, corn and something like chard. A little fruit tree. Cedar seedlings. Cosmos. Orange nasturtiums. Red flowers somewhat resembling African daisies, but not exactly. Two more little fruit trees.

Fire in a metal trough. Made me think of pigs. Christmas lights: one string of pink and white illuminated one tradiational at garage entrance not. The white lights were draped from the house to--I think--the white garage with the trellis. Four wooden chairs and one matching stool. "Stereophonic sound maker," also labeled "Optigan," which is the official name of this instrument, if I'm not mistaken. Many of us took turns playing a ditty or two on the Optigan, but for much of the evening, it was played by means of stones set down on its keys for long periods. This instrument is sort of the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang equivalent of a piano--or Wurlitzer.

I enjoyed conversations around the fire with several acquaintances, old and new. I had a sparkling lemonade or something and ate a number of fortune cookies. Most of them were ones where the dough never got folded. But there were three that were folded. The fortunes were:

Great fortune is coming your way.
You will be enlightened today.
You will find some money.

This time, unlike the previous time, they didn't run the generator. Although it was an interesting idea, since I'm allergic to it, I wasn't disappointed.

Towards the end of the evening, our attention turned to the walnut tree (a black walnut?) in the southeast corner of the yard. Hashemi had suspended chairs upside down from its limbs somewhere above, and these fell, one by one, at various times. And then, suddenly, we were graced by the presence of a surprise guest.

Like a Pearl

Late last night I finally found the moon, full, and high in the sky--like a pearl in a murky sea. I wait for every full moon. Each one is different. No two are the same.

Mostly Obscured

It was a bit muggy today, but not really very warm. In the evening, I went to the Viewpoint to look at the full moon. But by the time I got there, it was mostly obscured. All I could see of it was a couple bands of light in the cloud cover, which was a dull purple. A man was walking a short-haired, medium-sized white dog with some black markings on one side of its face. It stopped along the edge a few feet northwest of the Sentinel and several times rubbed its head and the front part of its body against the ground while elevating the back of its body. What a comical sight!

Another man was lying on his back on a bench, reading a book to the light of the lamps. I don't know how he could see what he was reading, because the light was coming from above, but he was staring upwards at his book. On another bench, there was a quart-sized plastic container of orange juice. I couldn't tell if it belonged to the reader, or if it had been abandoned. Husky Stadium was illuminated, but there was something even brighter, with a lot of lights, that looked like it was in Laurelhurst. As many years as I've looked at the view from the Viewpoint, I couldn't figure out what this was. Maybe it's a high school stadium somewhere. I'll look for it again by day.

Five Women in a Circle

I stopped by the Viewpoint just briefly. Five women were sitting in lawn chairs, in a circle, just to the right of the laurel tree. I looked more carefully at the samaras on the Sentinel. They're actually mostly still partly green. But there is some yellow or brown on many of them. Soon it will be time for me to finish my painting of the photographer under the Sentinel in fall, when the leaves are yellow. I'm always fascinated by how people come to this place to look, to emote, to act. Somehow by stepping into this little space, they feel they're in a different world from usual. But why is this?