Found Paintings: Mount Tam
Magical lighting
Welcome to Found Paintings, where I photograph the beautiful, wondrous, mysterious gestures produced by the world around me.
California’s coastal hills will always be home for me. When I lived in San Francisco, I would drive up to the North Bay as often as time allowed: over the Golden Gate Bridge, through the tunnel, smacked with the smell of dry Marin grass or wet soil after the rain (I can still summon the sensation). I would shoot up past the headlands, dive into the redwood forests, and jut out over Mount Tam, while Stinson Beach spread its smile across the horizon.
I’ve never found a place with a comparable quality of light—equal parts saturated and misty, spare and bursting with color.
Why do East Coasters long for seasons?
Until New York, the only place I lived for more than a year was San Francisco, where seasons are subtle; so in my mind, they’re just a part of the rolling ongoingness of life, no different than changes in scenery, people, or projects. This spring in New York might as well be my first spring anywhere.
Now, I long for a different kind of rhythm, the rhythm of a Northern California day: misty blue mornings, aromatic golden afternoons, nippy evenings. On a hot New York morning, with a slight sheen of sweat on my skin, I bring to memory the mist and hills and evergreens.
Walking into the forest, a shift in the melody…
Every corner, every patch of stone, moss, and bark, explodes with color.
Even a single grain of sand.
If you hung these photos in any room, New York would transform into San Francisco. They’re gorgeous.
And as expected, the titles of the photos are the best!
Awesome photos. Insightful observation. Great.