August 26, 2010, 6:48pm Route 10, Osaka

Uh...time .... sometime sounds scary ...

One moment out of eternity, never to be repeated. Scary or wonderful or both - or neither?

Makes me think how worthwhile it is to stop and smell the roses sometimes, even on a city street . . . especially at dusk. Though fumes were probably in the air instead of something more floral, what we see is worth taking that moment. Something special about the nothing so special. It glows.

This is really worth viewing larger to fully appreciate the details that create the mood the picture inspires. The warm sunset colors and the light have been beautifully treated . I find the details in the sky wonderful.

I think Fred is on to something here: this photograph reminds me of some of the photos you took in California on your last stay--photos I liked very much for the sense of "the moment" and "being there."  One of the things photography does well is to suggest experience so compellingly we actually feel as if we are there for a moment.  Of course photography does all sorts of things well; I don't wish to oversimplify, but the evidential quality attributed to the form early on is not that unlike the experiential quality I find so moving. 

Inspirational and aspirational.  It's heaven on earth, and I'm not just blowing sunshine.

First off, I really do appreciate the thoughtful comments. This is a picture I labored long and hard over though I don't really know why. There's really nothing here but an empty street and some cars passing by, a few lights  and illuminated signs beginning to take hold in the gathering dusk and the whole thing cut in half by a solitary traffic light. Even I have my doubts. In a comment on a companion picture to this one, Dan referred to "the ineffable moment" and I think that is what interests many of us. It's the moment that emerges briefly from the dream, a moment when we are aware of our own existence and conscious that we are present as actors on this stage. And just as quickly the moment is gone and we are swallowed up by the dream again.

When I was a kid in San Francisco there was a merry-go-round at Playland at the Beach. Jutting out from the circular wall around the carousel was an armature loaded with brass rings. As we whirled passed, we kids would reach out and try to grab a ring. and then if you could throw it into the clowns mouth, you would win a free ride. It seems as artists we are still reaching out for that brass ring as the world whirls by but now, even if you catch one and score, there is - alas - no free ride,  but just a few more circles of the ponies and the unicorns before the bell sounds and the ride is over. Still it's better to have ridden, reached for and occasionally caught the ring, than to simply to have sat on the bench and watched all the fun.

Jack, after reading your note, I was looking into the image for a long time. I need not comment on the beautiful light and capture of a moment in eternity. It has been taken care of by other more competent persons. But what attracted me is the capital letter' P'. For me 'P' stands for poet-philosopher-painter-photographer Jack.

A delicious dish which contains something I have no clues about.