It was not the best time to be on the west coast. I had just gotten a gig in D.C. as a copywriter, although I think it was to remove the very young Communicating Arts, or its precursor, from the market, but the invitation to snatch myself away from the office came, and I got on the plane.
Probably every west coast tourist has something like this, the beautiful, big, imperfect and imperfectible sunset (with a seagull).
Scanned from the print, which went into a notebook with a lot of other print, I may one day find the negative.
It’s around here somewhere.
I’ve seen abandoned photographs referred to as “found treasures” (but in French), and they can be that, even not yet abandoned or dug out of one’s own old CD/DVD files.
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The little time I had there, I enjoyed, but the sense of being embattled and not transforming was there too. Although I spent a fair amount of “vacation” time poking around for work, such seemed even more byzantine back then then it might today. Then too, progress seems always to involve social process — getting to know People, being around long enough to become familiar and known — and I wasn’t there that long although, ever the writer, I did manage to cage a gig writing advertising copy against existing rolling stock for voice over. Nice.