Pictures of Alleys in Seattle

I always find myself photographing urban decay.  When in Seattle the alleys draw me in and I inexorably end up documenting these gaps between buildings.  These places are where degenerates go to mug, bums go to die, and garbage go to...throw away.  Alleys symbolize shady places in the infrastructure; unmonitored and unattended. For every roll of film I shoot at least 10 out of a 24 exposure roll go towards alleys and the things in them.  Usually I wait for a person to walk through the alley.  This always gives the picture a forced implication of sadness.  No real incite here its just something I'm drawn to.

One of many dark dim alleys of Seattle 

Drove to a Coffee Shop in Bainbridge Island

I've penetrated the financial barrier and came out the other side of the tax bracket: Bainbridge Island, home of the parlor room socialist.  I like it here and I don't know how I deal with the cognitive dissonance this fact must bring.  Everything about this place is done in the form of independent specialized boutiques.  The coffee shops, the clothing shops, the ledger shops, the grocery stores - they're all locally owned, operated, and supplied.  The people here are rich enough to bring in giant chain franchises and rich enough to keep them out.  But, there is no free lunch as they say.  The money has to come from somewhere.  They make it off the island and use it to keep it off the island.  Now that is cognitive dissonance.  Every man here looks as though he's steped out of a J-Crew catalogue.  Theres a certain hubris of wealth here where the affluent treat poverty as a fashion style, an extension of their wardrobe.
With all that said, I like it here.  The people are intellectually leaning and their politics ironically liberal.  There is a laid back tone set in this place, one that implies a sentiment for family and free time.  The tables of this coffee shop are covered in brown butcher paper with a cup full of worn crowns.  Graphiti, it seems, has been assimilated.  Its the age old arms race of counter culture.  You rebel and they include.  Move outside the definition and they expand it.  You punch them and they hug you.

Too tired to sleep

I hate those paradoxical effects of sleep deprivation where your body can't get into the zone and keeps rejecting the rem.  Lately I've been inundated with radiation math problems at work.  My mind is starting to balance equations that aren't there.  Its like the so-called "Tetris effect" except  I'm placing imaginary equal signs between peoples' heads.   Fences look like square root signs and the road is a Cartesian coordinate system.  But all is as well as it can be with Jade gone.

There are these two ladies sitting next to me that keep slamming their palms on the table every time they laugh.  I'm trying to indicate that this displeases me without interacting with them.  This is difficult to do.  I'm thinking of putting on a morality play/ mime show to get my point across.  However, I'm am fairly excited for open -mike night to begin.  These commuter coffee shops do have something to offer.

Less negativeness this time

There has been some time since the last time has there not?  I just got ran out of the coffee shop that I usually go to because some old ladies were having a meeting.  So, I'm here at  Starbucks with a smile on my face and a good attitude.   I'ts hot in here and it prevents me from wearing my English cap which is costing me cool points.  Not only do I not look cool, but I'm also in Starbucks not looking cool  (我不但不是酷而且在咖啡馆打着字).  I'm sure there are some grammatical errors in my attempt at translating but that is the best I can do with my current level of dedication. I miss the Jade tree and its only been a month...hope everything stays the same.  Work has been getting more interesting lately.  I'll be doing my first class on radiac operation ( devices that measure radiation for the uninitiated).  The colleagues span a wide range of age.  As far as I can tell there are two main classes among us: the academics and retired military.  The retired military sneer at the academics for their lack of experience and scoff at their presumptuousness.  The academics seem...indifferent for the most part although this divide gets more apparent as the days go by.  The academics will move on soon and segue into higher positions, more profitable ones.  The retired military are solidified in their experience, the kind that is so specific they would be obsolete if the strayed beyond the familiar umbrella of the Feds.  Still, I find one guy in particular really interesting.  He is on the upper end of the wide age bracket;  A middle aged man with a jolly red face and a tobacco voice.  He sports a grey mullet and a mustache that might be distinguished and might be goofy.  He told us a cool story about this old couple in the 80's who would send President Reagan home made jam.  I 'm sure he never actually ate any but it apparently made the news a few times.  This couple lived in northern Oregon down wind from Hanford, Washigton a nuclear waist disposal site.  Eventually the white house began to frisk ( it means scan for radiation with a Geiger counter) in accordance with security measures that were new at the time.  Well, the jam they were sending Reagan was ,according to my co-worker, "Hot as shit."  "Hot" is an idiom for something that emits radiation above background.  Reagan was getting dosed via-radioactive jam.