riding my bike

i passed a noisy tree.

it was singing, with many birds. all the other trees had no bird sounds.

the graduation of the horizon

moving downwards going west.

and then rising again, at times, when we headed north.

and looking up into the sky and seeing two planes move away from one another, as if they just missed colliding--moving out from that corner of potential meeting.

this will become lights on wheels. that move away from one another.

and balloons that i will not let touch the ground.

dropping a balloon out of a window

building up blue

this was meant for hauendae beach, but it is happening in philadelphia instead.

more of what went on in korea, everything i add first you see last, so the order could be strange

what i see ends up in the studio somehow (i swear)






do you like short cut or overgrown astro turf?
at the palace on a hot day. koreans kick off their shoes (im sure there is a reason beyond comfort) and rest, kind of just hanging out around the old buildings where they offer shade.

her apron matches her fish
supporting these graceful old trees (and the clapping man outside of the secret garden)

there is a kite man in heaundae that releases this extremely long string of kites into the sky above beach, and it it so long you cannot even see where it ends, he reels them in an out on giant spools that are anchored into the sand.
bringing the tripods down to the beach, and the horizon

green tea fields, mountians terraced bright green, i like the tree sort of peacefully disturbing the order. it was a rainy day and from above and below you could watch peoples bright umbrellas floating through the rows of green.

ferry ride to jagalchi, so many boats in the water. boats are so much stranger than planes. watching them float is so eerie and wonderful to me.

a cloud hanging off of a mountain
bags of pigment. thinking about color a lot after wandering through the markets. draping a space with it's colors, building up its density.

a whole lot of watermelon
one of the shops where why sew giant masses of this nylon material, sort of like tents or the soft sides of trucks. there is a man in the back, where it is dark at a sewing machine, working on this mass that is spilling out of the shop into the alley.

some very nicely displayed lettuce.


the potential for sound being held up over the lake

i had the length of string for the balloons wrapped around two rocks, when i let them unwind the balloons just swept away from me out into the hazysoft blue sky, until they got as far as they could. i do not know at what point the next day they dissappeared, and/or the bell sank into the water.








they use giant balloons to hold up messages here, on banners that flap in the wind.

behind, again

i like how the poppies have bowed little heads


and lady's mantel when it rains

so a lot more to come soon.

the flight back was another long trip of almost constant light. and keyholes.

the building with all the crashing down inside, rice paddies (that as you drive by them seem solid and green and then suddenly begin to become transparent and reflective. you can see the sky in them one minute, and intense thick green the next), the density of color and my parents backyard.

i have been enjoying the last two weeks at my parents house. my mom's garden is especially wonderful this year. it has been hot, and humid and one day last week I was laying down on our family room while my dad was outside mowing the grass and the fresh cut smell of it came in the room with the fluttering curtains. it was an overcast afternoon. it is peaceful here. after two months in a strange city it was nice to come home to the backyard and the garden and my dad mowing the lawn.

i have to see about getting some pots so i can at least plant some herbs.

weight squeezing out cracks of light

the sun and its shadow



clapping outside the door to the secret garden