It's late now as afternoon turns toward evening, sun still shining brightly. City sounds outside, mostly sirens and airplanes overhead, the cable car that rings its bell now and then. Soon I'll pour a glass of wine and finish the tuna sandwich from lunch - the one I bought earlier at the organic market. Later I'll figure out a late dinner. Maybe the Thai restaurant a couple of blocks away.
photography in Mexico
Thinking about the Photography in Mexico exhibit I saw yesterday at SFMOMA. From the 1920's pictorial world of Weston, Modotti, Bravo and others, to recent photojournalistic investigations of "the complex region surrounding the country's border with the United States." It is an amazing exhibition that closes on Sunday. Edward Weston is one of my heroes. Not just his innovative way of revealing beauty in the mundane (toilet bowl, peppers, ollas) but the way he wrote every day. It was his daybooks that inspired me to start keeping journals. What struck me about breadth of the show is that Mexico has always been rife with aesthetics and turbulence, art and politics, scenery and diversity, revolution and class disparity. And a kind of sober loneliness. Just check any news report today (yesterday or tomorrow) and it's all there. The city of SF was, however, shining in the sun. There was music in Yerba Buena Park across from the museum, and lots of traffic and conversations in several languages blowing on the wind. I love the architecture in this city...
I see the leaves fall in spite of
my noisy chattering mind.
...this is the magnanimous life!
Jakusho Kwong
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