I went to Colma today with Brigid and Alice. When Alice and I drove down there in the fall I became obsessed with the small colorful lichens and scruffy mosses growing all over everything in the 19th century Anglo-Saxon section, but this time Brigid and I ventured into the Polish/Russian section of the Holy Cross Catholic cemetery and I fell in love with, predictably, pictures. I think these small ceramic pieces are so lovely and something to think about. How do pictures extend or limit immortality? I took over 100 photographs and am still going through them to see what worked and whether I need to go back next weekend. At first I thought I would use these images as the genesis of a drawing series, but now I'm thinking they may well exist as photographs on their own (look at them when they are BIG-- they're GORGEOUS!).
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