This was the start of the last Super Sprint, which is what my company calls bringing our mostly-remote team into the office every quarter or so to work in a focused environment, with all the engineers and stakeholders in a room. It’s pretty intense.
But, in planning for this, I decided I didn’t want to spend any more time in hotels and eating at crappy chains in Irvine (where the company is located for some reason). So, instead of flying in on sunday and sleeping there, I flew in on monday morning ass-early. My friend Mike says, whenever the subject comes up, “They have a 6AM?” as in, that time exists? I’m here to tell you it does, and it’s just as bad as you think. I had to be at the airport at 6 for a 7am flight; I think I got up at 4. So, by the time I’m on the plane, I’m all hyped up on caffiene and can’t even nap properly.
It’s a morning flight, and I’d chosen my seat so that I could look out to the east, flying south. I always try to do that; imagine what side of the plane will have a better view and sit on that side. Sometimes I don’t get the seats I want, but sometimes that works out in my favor anyway. This time I guessed right, facing away from the rising sun was just the ticket. I couldn’t believe the color that came through in the photos. It was just as unbelieveable in person, the whole world bathed in pink light. You wouldn’t believe so much of any color could exist, but there we were, right in the middle of it.
I say we, but I might have been the only person looking; the flight, being ass-early on a monday, was pretty empty. I know at one point I looked up and I was the only person with an open window. I’ve heard there’s a direct flight, 16 hours, from Charles de Gaulle to SFO, that is this, the whole way (assuming you catch it at the right time of year, I suppose). I’d love to do that some day.
Posted on 2018-04-13T06:21:27Z GMT
So for a while there I thought I was doing a project on construction in the city. In the end, I decided it was boring and abandoned it, simply because I wasn’t getting close enough to the subject. You can only shoot one or two kinds of pictures from the outside of a construction site. I did a passable job getting photos of the early parts of the construction of the transbay terminal, since that was right on the walk from where casual carpool drops to the office I worked in at the time.
No, though, the real problem with the photo essay on cranes is it does nothing to talk about what the cranes mean, in terms of the growth and change of a city; the gentrification of large swaths of the people that have lived there; or the political forces that allow such things to happen. It’s hard to make pictures that are about YIMBY and NIMBY. My take: doubling the density, going from 3 to 6 stories for most residential properties, would be amazing, but only if the city started doing mixed-use zoning again, allowing for ground level retail and restaurants; how are you going to live without a car if you can’t walk a block to the bodega to get a sixer of beer and then a slice from the place next door? I am not an urban planner, but I do miss NYC sometimes.
Posted on 2018-04-12T06:55:48Z GMT
This was a super brief visit to WildCare, where things were pretty chill at the end of a Saturday. Looking at the Pelican, and having spent no small amount of my younger years staring at dinosaur skeletons, drawings, simulations, and the movie Jurrassic Park, I don’t know how anyone can not see that these are 100% dinosaurs. They don’t move like reptiles. They’re not even shaped like reptiles.
The photos of the bird were taken through the cages; none of them save the last one was in the open. The trick to getting photos that aren’t completely blocked up with fence is to get as close as you can to the wires, open your lens all the way up, and find a hole. Pay attention to the viewfinder, and move around until the picture looks the most clear. It should go without saying, but here I am saying it anyway: don’t do this in the case that it might put you in danger. As Clayton Cubitt said on twitter:
Famed war photography Robert Capa once said "If your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough" but he also died at 40 when he stepped on a land mine, so "closeness" is not always what it’s cracked up to be.
https://t.co/4LZtkL0nTo pic.twitter.com/INWxIDrk2d— Clayton Cubitt (@claytoncubitt) April 3, 2018
I’ve gotta say, though: Capa was making important pictures; he knew that; he also knew the stakes. Vitam impendere vero.
Peregrine Falcon; if and when I ever get a bird tattooed on me, it’ll be on of these. 
The aforementioned pelican before feeding. 
Pelican, getting fed. 
Owl doesn’t give a shit. 
This guy was a former resident, nests in the nearby woods now. Always comes back at feeding time, even though they haven’t given him food in a long time.
Posted on 2018-04-10T05:29:46Z GMT
