I read pages of Dhalgren in the late-season sunlight wafting in through the main window: it filtered through glass, thorough neon-tubes, inert and colorless; it stumbled across and around support struts, casting shadows in half-regular and rigid geometries. I drank coffee, twiddled with my camera, and marveled at the presence of a Christmas Tree so long after the end of the season. One year lay dead and dry in the gutters of the city. By spring, the remnants of the previous year would moisten with mud, wash into drainage cisterns, and lend themselves to garden mulch. The newer, younger year would feed on the remains of the previous twelve months: and in winter, yield itself to the following span of season: the following year. I wasn’t contemplating the passage of time and the advent and decline of years. I was thinking about Samuel R. Delany’s sprawling, enigmatic masterwork of a novel. I was also thinking of painting. It’s been years since I’ve handled a paintbrush: years since I’ve enjoyed doing something to a blank expanse of stretched canvas. Though I still love paintbrushes, it is the camera that occupies most of my visual attention. I still love brush strokes and bursts of color, and I wondered (while looking across the coffeehouse, at two strangers engaged in whatever it is that commonly engages strangers) if I might paint a photograph. I nabbed a few clandestine shots. One doesn’t pass up the opportunity to photograph beautiful strangers, after all. Those shots lingered in a kind of in-camera limbo. I’d saved and deleted a number of shots, and the one painted here, was one of the long term survivors. I’m glad of that, and for numerous reasons. I can’t say that this is a successful digital paint, but I cannot say that this isn’t a successful digital painting. It’s something, and it intrigues me. There will be more from Emerald City: a coffee-house situated underneath the el tracks at Sheridan Avenue. I’m sure of it. And until then, I hope you’ve enjoyed this distinctly 21st Century tableau. My interest in anachronisms has prompted a few minor tweaks to the structure of this image. There are numerous anachronistic imports: two of which are photographs of my own, hanging on the wall behind the guy with the Apple laptop. Others are both overt and hidden, and hopefully, they all add to the overall vibe of this image. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting; and, as always, I hope you’re having a great week.