March 16, 2010
A vista, plus one you can hear.
Driving on the south end of this island mid-morning today, I was stunned (as always) by the immense view from the coastline on which my tires, myself and my latte were planted, looking out to Canada’s Vancouver Island directly across the Haro Strait. I liked the unwitting visual symmetry of the space above the horizon until the clouds became dark, and the space between the sea and the bluff on which I stood. The foggy March haze draped itself around the mountains so beautifully. I’d like to go through life draped like that myself. Forget about fabric clothing altogether, and just adorn myself with cloudwear.
I know. You can’t really see all that in this little photo. Trust me: those mountains are really big when you’re standing there. About three times as high, at least. Really.
Turning my head 90 degrees to the left, I could see another, more distant mountain range: the Cascades, making a dramatic backdrop behind several of the San Juans. But of course, in my little snapshot, that backdrop doesn’t look nearly as dramatic as it is in person. You’ll just have to trust me again. Drama baby, drama.
But I can at least give you an inkling of all that craggy, snow-capped drama, taken on another, sunnier day from almost the same spot, but with a 300 zoom lens attached. I liked the dance between the edges of the driftwood and those of the peaks. Voila, drama!
So I’m off on the morning ferry to Seattle, where I’ll be at this wonderful concert on Friday night hearing the fabulous Karen Bentley Pollick do some amazing things with my violin and electronics piece, Vista, as well as with quite a number of other beautiful new works composed by visibly living and breathing composers. Like the mountains, they too tend to look much smaller in photos than they are in person. About three times as high, at least. Really.