One of my personal commitments to this blog is the use of spirited photographs when possible. It is also no secret that my camera travels with me quite a bit, therefore it is a certainty that I am presented with questions pertaining to photography often. Usually, and most annoyingly, they inquire if I am a professional photographer, where/when my interest sparked, or why do I take photographs.

The answer to many of these questions is simple, yet difficult to communicate. Am I a photographer for example - no. I take photos as a method of escape, something that I enjoy and in my spare time. To rely on an income generated by photographs is the last thing I want to do, I even shun being accused of being a photographer for I am not that self-occupied or wish to be perceived as such. If you enjoy my photos, and simply let me know…I’d like to let you know that I am appreciative of your mention as well, but please - the photographer title is better left to the likes of Annie Leibowitz, Ansel Adams, or Shawn Starr (although he takes as much credit as I do).

This brings us to why I take photos. We’re taught early on that a photo is worth a thousand words, they hold a story of who, what, where, when, why and how. We visited Filoli this past weekend, and while touring its massive grounds Crystal’s feet became tired she found a midget sized bench of all things in the middle of a pathway. She sat, I laughed, she smiled, I snapped a picture. Images such as these bare a window into the past, moments that we’d like to remember, share, and treasure.

Behind all my photographs there is an untold story, and although just a photo to the average viewer they mean much more to me. We as a society is also trained to capture happy moments, and gleeful times. I set out for a couple weekends trying to capture suffering, pain, and raw emotion. To be less then critical, I absolutely sucked at it the first time. My second attempt was much better, however still was not able to capture that raw emotion I was trying for.

I try to convey passion and evoke emotion from my photos, something that the audience is able to connect with on some level and relate. It’s not always so easy to do, in fact most of my captures I still consider photos, not photography. They’re snapshots that tell a story, not photos that translate into feelings. To this date I’ve only snapped a handful I would ever present as photography, and this is also why I should not be regarded as a photographer, but rather an enthusiast of the discipline.

I hope you enjoy my photographs, for they are a part of me, and if you do enjoy the photos that is enough for me. I am happy.

-Wallace

It started with a question: How can we inspire people to take action on climate change?

The answer: Ask the people of Sydney to turn off their lights for one hour.

On 31 March 2007, 2.2 million people and 2100 Sydney businesses turned off their lights for one hour - Earth Hour. If the greenhouse reduction achieved in the Sydney CBD during Earth Hour was sustained for a year, it would be equivalent to taking 48,616 cars off the road for a year.

With Sydney icons like the Harbour Bridge and Opera House turning their lights off, and unique events such as weddings by candlelight, the world took notice. Inspired by the collective effort of millions of Sydneysiders, many major global cities are joining Earth Hour in 2008, turning a symbolic event into a global movement.

So remember. Tonight at 8pm.

See you at 9pm.

-Wallace

Every time I drove up California Highway 1 / 19th Street through San Francisco into Golden Gate Park this abandoned Victorian catches my eye. I believe the building originally fell victim to a fire, however the property was never renovated and eventually fell victim to weather, squatters, and obviously unsolicited urban improvements. Some time ago, its landscape changed, an Toyota FJ40 Land Cruiser graced its driveway. Totally abandoned. Although no modern marvel this vehicle is solid, highly regarded by many off-roaders and some will even argue the Japanese equivalent of the British Land Rover Defender 90. Make no mistake, this FJ40 had the more desirable 2F motor and all the toys. There is no doubt, this was once source for someone’s pride and joy. Today it sits on 19th Street as an sad empty shell of its once proud past.

There is a part of me which wishes I can pick it up and restore it to its once dutiful state, however the time, effort, energy and resources requires is just something I do not have. I hope someone will pick up this truck, and either utilize it as a piece of urban art or take it through Moab.

In many ways, this truck is a reflection on life…not just yours or mine, but life in general. We were all once young, energetic, and full of promise. Going through life we lose this youthful appeal, our energy levels drop, and we fulfill our allotment of promise. What’s difficult to bare is the realization of unrealized promise. That sparkle in everyone’s eyes slowly dissipates, only leaving a gloom, desaturated view on life. This truck’s promise is severely unrealized, these things are more sought after now today then when they were new. Many still stand tall, many are still on active duty, many are still their owners pride and joy.

It is a difficult thing to see, as I realize this is an important vehicle. However due to the cards it was dealt early on, it has lived a rough life. However, if there ever was a silver lining in a story, I truly hope someone decides to haul this truck out and put some serious work into it. It’s never too late to make good on promises.

Whatever happens to this truck, if any of you happen to hear anything about it, please be sure to fill me in as well.

-Wallace

PS. pretty huh?

“Merry” is one of those words which happened to be unfortunate enough to become associated with another, in its case - Christmas. We had, or at least I enjoyed a Merry Easter weekend. We had an Alexander’s reservation on Friday but had no real reason to go, so we celebrated our 1 year anniversary a week early (because we can.) over hamachi shots, an assortment of small plates, intermezzos, 28 day aged filet and Cakebread Cabernet. Richard has always made our dinners here amazing and has always found a way to up the par on every visit. This time he took Crystal on a restaurant tour and we wrapped up dinner by Crystal spinning her own cotton candy - oh, let’s not forget those gorgeous easter eggs with spun sugar and cookies for the road. Thanks Richard, always a pleasure…and the pleasure is all ours.

After dinner we made our way over to Cheesecake Factory to meet Larry and Clara for a celebratory drink, somehow we ended up with a bottle service of Cliquot. Figured it was to a good cause, and besides great friends is always reason to celebrate. Needless to say after a bottle of Cakebread, wine pairings with all our courses, and a bottle of Veuve Cliquot to top things off I was drunk, and I believe Crystal was too as we both woke up hung over.

We decided upon Whole Foods for breakfast, their new alcohol serving bistro is pretty awesome. I enjoy lunch here almost on a weekly basis but this was the first time I’ve wondered in on a weekend, and for breakfast. It’s so convenient to walk in, order sit down and have your own personal cook, or so I’d like to think whip up a meal for you. We split an order of ‘made to order’ omelets, pancakes and smoothies. Not exactly the greasy hang-over cure but it did its job. Now they need to mix up some bloody mary’s.

Many of you have been asking about Sniffy, so here she is bidding you a Happy Easter! I meant to prop her up with easter eggs or at least green grass but she wasn’t having any of that. Tried to dart under the bed a few times then break loose into the living room. She finally dug through Crystal’s underwear drawer and attempted to climb a dresser.

We woke up early, contemplated on outfits then attended Easter service at CCIC. The pastor was preaching something about finding Lamborghini keys in Bibles and I was day dreaming about bacon and eggs - go figure. When service finally ended we didn’t dart to the bacon and eggs as I imagined but over to Mitsuwa for some ramen, katsu-don, curry and inari (yes, we oink!).

Once back home Crystal wanted to tan by the pool, but I had a proposal to write. We walked only to realize that the pool area was consumed by shade, we had to move our operation to the lawn area where we both proceeded to sleep for over an hour. I fell asleep shortly after the photo…Tom Waits providing the soundtrack to a lazy Sunday afternoon.

5pm rolled around and I got to meet Crystal’s extended family over dinner up in Foster City. Extremely nice people, big hearts, and possibly the smartest baby I’ve met to date.

I thoroughly enjoyed this Easter weekend, I hope yours was just as merry. Oh…and Happy Nowrūz as well!

Cheers!

-Wallace

It would be fair to say that I really don’t want to do anything today. My weekend was exhausting. With Crystal in Tahoe and my only real commitment over the weekend being the DSF demo I planned to catch up on some much missed sleep, instead I did anything but. Friday evening Zagi called then dragged me up to Go Kart Racer in Burlingame to catch up and race Zane and Nick. I don’t think we got back till two something, of course by the time I actually fell asleep I some how whittled away another hour putting me solidly into 3:XX am.

The idea was to be up at 6:30am Saturday morning and arrive in Mountain View for the demo at 8am, when Sia texted me I noticed a timestamp of 8:04am. I slept clear thru my alarm and scrambled to Shoreline to meet the rest of the DSF team by 9am - giant box of coffee in hand. The actual set up, training, and demo actually went well. We had a fair amount of visitors, generated a bit of interest and got to know the limitation of the skid-monsters well. After the demo I bolted over to Crystal’s as she forgot to feed Sniffy then rushed over to Sunny’s as we had the Saber Cat’s opening night to attend. After the game, which we did win (63-43 cats), I somehow squandered 5 more hours not touching my bedsheets until 3am.

Due to Saturday’s demo I failed to make the Gough & Peterson memorial ride, not that I would have woken up in time anyways. Some 2500 cyclists, according to Francois’ count showed up, definitely one of the, if not the largest gathering of cyclists for a memorial ride that I know of. I decided to head up and pay my respects Sunday morning. I seemed like a nice day to ride, at least from the sheltered walls of my place, the moment I started to climb up to Foothill Expressway I realized it was not going to be easy. With headwinds blowing and cross winds threatening it was one of the more difficult rides of the year, not to mention exhausting. Instead of looping through Woodside as usual, I cut my ride short at El Monte and headed toward Stevens Canyon. That tailwind was such an relief, but as soon as I got to the accident site my hunger for more road ceased. The turn was not blind, it must have been awful, and extremely tragic for all involved parties. Enervated, I returned down and washed up. My phone rattles…it’s Larry.

Larry finally returned from Nola after some awful traveler’s luck. I made my way over to Santana Row to sync up with him and Clara when ironically I find out Sia and Shebani were at Vintage. It would have been rude not to say hi, so I did. An hour or so later and a cup of coffee I was on my way over to Crystal’s for dinner and shut eye. I’m tired, I don’t want to think.

-Wallace

PS. I’m finally on Facebook. add me. wewts!

Tom Waits and I first crossed paths as “San Diego Serenade” danced on, then through my ear drums. From that moment on he has fascinated and in a sense even captivated me. With all the noise on the radio today I constantly find myself flipping back through history to find heartfelt song writing. You know…Soulful, Touching, Connecting (as opposed to “apple bottom jeans, boots with tha furrr, reeboks with tha strap…”) Tom Waits is certainly one of these absolutely amazing, talented, and absurd characters. I shouldn’t be amazed that a simple ballad written and performed a decade prior to my birth, but it does. However I wouldn’t go as far as to say he and his era is long gone. He has inspired a talented few in our generation, most notably John Mayer.

Waits has that ‘Bad Ass’ appeal, and more notable so did Cash. I have to admire those who wonder through life keeping with their morals, personified via public or not. After listening to literally three decades of his music and seeing how he sways from classic ballad to experimental funk; he’s nothing short of stunning for the range he’s able to express. He’s able to draw raw emotion out of ballads such as “Ol ‘55″ and still my favorite “San Diego Serenade” to the more funkified story telling format of “Filipino Box Spring Hog,” and he does it all extraordinarily.

Bad Ass Tom Waits. Bad Ass.

-Wallace

Just a warning, if you continue reading you may huck your stomach contents out onto that fresh new keyboard in front of you. Things got off to a funky start; Sia, Shebani and I waited at Cascal for a seemed eternity for Crystal to figure out what shoes to wear before she met up with us then were rather filled up on alcoholic libations when she finally arrived. Cute, but superstar late. Crystal had a salon appointment on Saturday, you know…to upkeep her superstardom, and I met up with friends for a brisk lively ride through Woodside. Weather was fantastic, and we kept a good pace. Once back I met up with my superstar and caught dinner at Gochi. The normal pressed salmon sushi, oyster shooters, sour plum crispy rice balls, deep fried pork belly with egg plant and plenty of Ashai to wash this all down. This was the beginnings of a great evening.

My folks decided to leave town for the weekend and thus freed up their Jigu! tickets, they insisted that Crystal and I go observe traditional Chinese theatre, so we figured why not? I fell asleep in the first half, not because it was boring but the booze finally kicked in. For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the performance. We had great seats, a suite in fact (to boast). Second floor, unobstructed view, and actual armchairs - not the flip/flop theater seating. We hopped out with smiles plastered to our faces. A fun evening, the following day could only get better.

Outstanding in the Field by Jim Denevan was an event I longed to attend last year, but due to lack of planning on my part and busy schedules - tickets sold out and events booked up well before I was ready to commit. This year I’m hellbent on attending, and in doing so I crafted up a site and invited 14 others to none other then Jeff’s ocean front abode. Uhhh…I digress, we drove up through hwy17 and had brunch at Gabriella’s Cafe, a restaurant which Denevan is involved with. I wanted to test the waters, and even you have to admit…this is pretty romantic with the Pacific ocean a few blocks away and all. The place was absolutely charming.

Who ever thought of making a sandwich with french toast? We all knew bacon is magical, but did you ever thought of calling it ‘magical bacon?’ Gabriella’s did, and we’ve become fans. Although Crystal swears her duck egg, was actually the best chicken egg ever(it was a duck egg), you should make time and visit. One note - skip the mimosas, they sound wonderful especially with fresh squeezed organic oranges, but in all frankness they reminded us of airborne.

Next up, Crystal has never been through downtown Santa Cruz, at least not in detail. In an effort to better her Santa Cruz knowledge we strolled through the shops and boutiques all the while I consumed a yummy cup of Peet’s drip. Who knows…maybe I will just enter that contest. Crystal ended up with a few pairs of tights and some bright colored flats. Now, it was time for the beach.

Instead of overpopulating the already over populated Santa Cruz beaches, we decided to add 2 more to the overpopulated Capitola beach instead. More boutiques, more shops, and of course ice cream! Now…since I’m somewhat self-centered I would have preferred to just stick around and grabbed dinner on the ocean as the sun set over the Pacific, but it’s times like these which I’m reminded that I don’t actually own Crystal and that she has her own group of friends as well.

We headed back up hwy 1 and over hwy 17 so she can catch her girl’s night out in Palo Alto. I personally find Sundays, especially the evening to be something magical. We have such hectic schedules and it’s difficult for us to meet, not just Crystal and I, but all of us in general. Sundays are the day which I usually refuse to plan anything, I leave open and wait to see what the wind blows in so to speak. I need to re-think this philosophy through, however I’m rather charmed. Charming huh?

-Wallace