yesterday, i had one of those moments when life and art become one and the same.

Saturday started normally enough, and there was nothing to indicate that it would be different from any other weekend day. i got up late, noonishly, walked over to Brewed Awakening on Euclid for my daily fix of caffeine. and for the first time in two weeks, didn't have to worry about feeding my roommate breakfast, or about finding stuff for us to do, since he had gone home to Coalinga for the 4th of July weekend. (doubtless, to mollify his pining girlfriends. yes, that's plural. *chuckle* ... so I was alone again, and didn't have to concern myself with certain quasi-parental resopnsibilities, but i did miss Angel. i always do, when he goes home from Berkeley.)

anyway, i walked through campus, shivering in the fog which still hadn't lifted by noon, made my way down Telegraph, finally stirring with the presence of weekend street vendors putting up their stalls and stuff for sale. parked myself at Cody's for a while, leafing through magazines and checking out the newest books, mostly in the science and technology section. making mental notes of which ones to buy later, after the summer. or of ones to get for certain kids, matched to their intellectual temperature. for a long time, in my other past life in Berkeley, i bought books only for myself. these days, i look at books with an eye for a student or a mentee. i much prefer this now, particularly since i don't have a library any more, having given it all away a couple of years ago.

the normal day continued, as i found myself chuckling and giggling through the early matinee of Chicken Run, which i highly recommend. it was a really punny movie, in the classic Aardman style. lots of historical and movie references as well, which generally eluded the sensibilities of the little kids in the theater, but which tickled the adults no end. it was a wonderful Berkeley family crowd, and i enjoyed the screening as much for that, as for the movie itself.

after the movie, i went to Tolman Hall to check my e-mail and read a few weblogs, then collected my digital camera, as i felt the urge to walk all the way down University Avenue to the Berkeley marina, which is a wonderful stroll, another thing i highly recommend. as usual, i decided to exit Tolman via the back fire escape stairs. as i started walking down, i looked up and saw lights. blue from the outside, sepia gold from the inside. and i saw planes of concrete and lines of steel. ordinarily, i wouldn't have given the scene another glance, or even a mere thought. but the camera dangling from my shoulder was saying something: capture this. so i composed a frame, fired off one click, and walked down the stairwell, at which i could still hear littlehunter's echoing voice as he chased the blue rubber ball of earth down, down, down... weeks ago.

emerging into light and Hearst Avenue, i was pleased to see the fog had lifted fully, and that my walk down to the Bay was going to be an awesome one. and i had instantly forgotten about the arcs of light and planes of surfaces that were now hidden in the ones and zeroes of my digital camera. until much later, early in the evening when i was back at my office, and had downloaded the pix to my Macintosh: i was astounded at the quality of the image, doubly so because in its original state it was perfect. usually, i filter my digital camera images at least for Auto Levels and for a bit of brightness and contrast mixing.

this one didn't require any Photoshop tweaking at all.

(NOTE: clicking this link, or the pic above, will lead you to the full image, which is about 350k, so bear with the DL if you have a slowish connection.)

so anyway, what am i trying to say here? well, nothing more than this: my summer so far has been like this image. art in the midst of life. an epiphany in the midst of the daily round of work, play, discovery, friendship and learning, that happens at Berkeley in general, and in my Internet Classrooms in particular. you have all appeared in my life, without editing -- blemishes and all, instances of light, geometries of mind and self. you have just appeared.

and i, i have looked and taken the moment to 'capture.'

my teaching and mentoring being what it is, i know that this capturing is fleeting. what gives meaning to what i do is when i release you all to the winds and landscapes of autumn, to proceed verily on your own lives, hopefully to bring light, and lightness, to others. your peers, your loved ones, other adults.

i live for the moments of grace that, like the seemingly dull colors of a nameless stairwell somewhere, leak through to awareness, the way that good art always does.

i live for the moments of passion that appear, like novae, on the pages of these weblogs of yours.

i live. do you?

{ net.casting }
^