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infinity, to the power of 6

to the power of 6, originally uploaded by young@art.

I’ve been facing inward somewhat, lately, so it hurts a bit at the end of the day to look at some of the photos I took of the kids this weekend. I see the boys, living loud as they usually do, resilient to being ignored from time to time and obviously overlooking my inconsistencies as a parent.

They stretch so far! Infinity is a new favorite word with Ford. On a 6×6 yellow card, I write a note to him, late at night: a just-love card, with a footnote of grief. I could always respond better, be more consistent, listen every time. That I don’t, I think he forgives. I stare at this picture, listening to the sleepy sounds of the house at night, hoping that he always understands the infinity of my love or him.

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our backyard friend’s silhouettes

our backyard friend’s silhouettes, originally uploaded by young@art.

A warmup set, and part of my new silhouette obsession: Winsor & Newton Black Indian Ink atop delta ceramcoat atop gesso atop the pages of a Moleskine (heavy stock) sketchbook.

We have no more critters in our backyard than anyone else, but I wage that ours are the cutest, because of the quail. There’s a family, about 20 of them, that run the perimeter at dusk. The California Thrasher couple have a nest somewhere in the hedge; when we lay in the sun by the bird bath, one of them will watch us from the grapefruit tree, sometimes with a red worm in his mouth, for a half-hour or more. Hummingbirds are always fighting, and the woodpeckers have assaulted the old olive tree on their continual hunt for boring insects.

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bathroom, Laurel’s Cuban restaurant, SF, originally uploaded by young@art.

My next bathroom visit of the evening wouldn’t be so pretty. Damon would have the camera and my jacket and my soul outside the warfield ladie’s room while I rejected grilled sole, habanero salsa and mojitos.

 The rest of the photos are up on Flickr, even those tights and shoes I promised 😉