Featured: At the Germany-Austria border, from Fellhorn mountain near Oberstdorf: 8 March.
Another year gone, another 34-thousand images made* …
As the image above shows, I also spent a lot of time this year at the Austrian-German frontier, much of it at altitude.
Below I look back at the year 2017 with a selection of 17 images. Each picture is a direct clickable link to the corresponding post on Instagram.
Above: (A) The Spheres, northeast from 6th Avenue and Lenora Street (HL).
Glowing glass forms appear around the corner as if they’ve risen suddenly from the ground, eliciting odd looks and interested inquiries from passersby.
On Amazon’s urban campus at the feet of towers Day One and Doppler, The Spheres are located in downtown Seattle on Lenora Street between 6th Avenue and 7th Avenue. The futuristic structures provide a highly visible centre of attention for the electronic-commerce and -computing company. Three intersecting glass and steel half-spheres will contain a botanic garden to include exotic plants, waterfalls, and treehouses, and workspaces to further cultivate creativity by and collaboration among Amazon employees. The grand opening is scheduled for 18 January 2018.
The construction development projects are part of the joint efforts by NBBJ and Amazon to regenerate the Denny Regrade area with ample office space for the world headquarters of Amazon, and additional space for retail and public facilities.
(B) The Spheres, northwest from 7th and Lenora (HL).
(C) Seattle Municipal Archives, item no. 4011.
Denny Hill was regraded and removed in multiple phases between 1898 and 1931. In the 1930 picture above (C), the 2017 Spheres in image (B) would be located to the right of the utility pole between the two cars in the foreground and the digging excavator in the background.
I made photos (A) and (B) above on 10 December 2017. This post appears on Fotoeins Fotografie at fotoeins.com as https://wp.me/p1BIdT-aVe.
“Fog”, definition: “a thick cloud of tiny water droplets suspended in the atmosphere at or near the earth’s surface that obscures or restricts visibility (to a greater extent than mist; strictly, reducing visibility to below 1 kilometre).”
Fog isn’t atypical for autumn or winter in the city of Seattle or in the Puget Sound region. While less effective than snow, the damping by fog on light and sound can still provide a modest visual and auditory sensation of silence. That is, until headlights and foghorns pierce the temporary cloak and illusion.
740am, West Thomas Street Overpass (20171211).
751am, West Thomas Street Overpass (20171211).
830am northwest, into Sound fog (20171211).
840am southeast, as the sun burns through (20171211).
I made the photos above on 6 January 2015 on board the WSDOT Ferry MV Kaleetan from Bremerton to Seattle, and on 11 December 2017 near Myrtle Edwards Park. This post appears on Fotoeins Fotopress at fotoeins.com as https://wp.me/p1BIdT-aYc.
I’m always interested and fascinated by movement, whether it’s mechanical, natural, or human. Must be why I can’t stop looking at the world through a lens …
I attended a preview of Ballet BC‘s first program for the new 2017-2018 season (season 32). Thanks to Ballet BC and Instameet Vancouver, registered participants were provided access to the venue to watch and photograph the preview performance. Season 32 Program 1 was held for open view to the public on three consecutive evenings: 2, 3, and 4 November.
With these pictures, I explored the perspective of witnessing a parent’s unstoppable decline to the end. I didn’t include pictures of my father in this set, but I gave voice to growing distress at his final journey in orbit around a downward spiral. My gaze drifted externally to the space and form of the hospital and to the surroundings outside.
On 19 July 2014, Dad was taken to Vancouver’s St. Paul’s Hospital after he had a minor fall down the stairs at home. No bones were broken, which was remarkable considering his worsening health in the final stages of cancer. He would never return to the house in which he and Mum had bought and lived since 1976.
By the 2nd week, he had been moved from to the Palliative Care Unit (PCU) on the 10th floor. The wonderful hospital staff took great care of him and other patients in the unit. Dad charmed the PCU staff by chatting with them in broken English; it was his way of exerting some measure of control. I also witnessed the inevitable “shuffle”. One day, a patient slept quietly in one of the other beds, surrounded by members of his family. The following day, the bed was cleared, cleaned, and prepared for a new patient.
Into week 3, his mind and spirit departed, and he became completely unresponsive to external prompts. Over the following days, his body remained, accompanied by sounds of breathing, often shallow and laboured. He was at peace, and thanks to the meds, in diminished pain. I’d been with Dad a part of every day for 21 consecutive days. Friday came and went, and so did the passing of the sun. As I’d done every evening, I leaned down and whispered: “good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The following morning, I awoke to a phone call. The nurse’s voice was calm and gentle. Somewhere in the universe, I heard faint echoes of the death rattle. I said to the nurse: “thank you for your phone call. We’ll be at the hospital in a few hours.”
I ended the call and looked down at my watch: 613am. The date was August 9. He had celebrated his 82nd birthday only a few weeks earlier.
Northern summers, especially July and August, mean something entirely different.
Fotoeins Fotografie 