Brian Taylor—The Art of Getting Lost

This work portrays certain walks Brian takes in search of peace in the West. Rather than portraying the most sweeping or spectacular views of a landscape, Brian reveals an authentic "essence" of place-often from a quiet vantage point. The images are produced using the  beautiful 19th century Gum Bichromate process. Each print is coated by hand with "non-silver" photographic emulsions directly onto watercolor paper in multiple exposures of different colors creating a very unique work of art.

View images

291 Geary Street, San Francisco, CA 94102   415.291.9001/T   415.291.9010/F

Here is Brian in his darkroom, working assiduously towards his upcoming show at Gallery 291 in San Francisco.

We're really eager to see Brian's new work—so we'll be staying in the City and attending the opening on May 14. The exhibition runs until June 30—so remember that when you're in the City, too.

In the meantime, here's a link to Brian's own website—a treat itself—where you can see more of his striking and innovative work.

Walking

I walk all the time, but even in this wild place I love so much, most of the walking that I do is along familiar paths that I follow nearly every day. It's true that I walk further afield, too, sometimes much further, where everything is new—new in a different way than these madrone blossoms and douglas irises and lupines are new. And yet I don't walk like this nearly enough—just heading out the door in favor of what comes up next.

Instead, how often we make some list of tasks fixed and determinant—just like that other list we carry with us, the one with all the expectations we imagine that others hold for us.

But when we walk just for the helluvait, we can become as fluid as the world is—as fluid in the world as we are meant to be. 

Below are two quick reading suggestions for helping you walk out the door...

The first, Edward Abbey's "Walking," is full of memorable one-line slogans to slap on your bumper, and typical of Abbey, is sarcastic as hell. 

Abbey on walking:"Whenever possible I avoid the practice myself. If God had meant us to walk, he would have kept us down on all fours, with well-padded paws...He surely would not have made mountains...read more 

The second, by Kurt Vonnegut, is no less funny...or poignant. You'll be reminded that it's as easy (or as hard) to get off your butt and ramble in a city as it is in the wild.

Vonnegut: "I work at home, and if I wanted to, I could have a computer right by my bed, and I'd never have to leave it...read more

The other day I met a guy from Tuscany wearing this t-shirt: "The internet is down...so I've come outside a while." (He's the guy on the far left—with his back to you.) We were all working side by side clearing brush along the Rocky Creek road—the one way a vehicle can get in and out of here. And we did some good work together, too. But tomorrow morning I'm heading out a different way.

Pilgrimage and Spring

“Spring fever” is too anemic a description altogether—especially compared with Chaucer who says that it is now, when Aprille with hise shoures soote is engendering such flowers...and the yonge sonne has run half his course through Aries,

…exactly now that longen folk to goon on pilgrimages and palmeres seek out straunge strondes and distant shrines in sondry londes.
 
But read—or better yet, hear—Chaucer’s lines yourself below.

And then if you need to parse a phrase or two, you can go here.  In the left hand column, under “Edition,” select “Enface ME-MO.” Under “Pagination,” check the circle for “30.” Hit “Go.” A side-by-side translation of Chaucer’s middle English into modern English will appear—and you can look at whichever lines or phrases that you'd like.



"Learn how to meditate on paper"

"Learn how to meditate on paper. Drawing and writing are forms of meditation.

Learn how to contemplate works of art.

Learn how to pray in the streets or in the country.

Know how to meditate not only when you have a book in your hand

But when you are waiting for a bus or riding in the train..."

-- Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, 1962