You'll learn to "stop acting" and instead start living in your work in a progressively deeper, more truthful and courageous way with each class. The focus is not on a "method" applied to each actor who must subscribe to one way of working, but instead follows Universal Laws of Quantum Mechanics.
Yes, Mike is finally able, utilizing Hali's nice little netbook, to sit at the Starbucks on Melrose Avenue whilst sipping his tall half-caf: leisurely perusing the web and responding to blog comments, looking like one of the Real People.
The trail ride back not only tested Mike’s saddle endurance on the steep granite downslopes, but also gave Hali & Mike a chance to study the site of a memorable 1976 backpack they had taken. As Mike has written:
When we reached the banks of the San Joaquin we halted and stared in dismay. The river was flowing in flood stage, at least two feet higher than it was when we had crossed it three days earlier. And, of course, memory does not serve: some recall that the rain stopped at the point of crossing the river; others believe that the rain was still continuing. And now? Now, we simply call it "the Rain Trip." Details of the Rain Trip, a long-planned backpacking event in August, 1976, have now faded into the mists of time, but taken as a whole the experience of a flooded High Sierra still remains remarkably fresh.
The backpackers had camped on the banks of Shadow Creek (now prohibited as being too close to the water) and had struck a bad patch of monsoonal moisture that drenched both the deserts to the south and the Sierra. After all members of the party were thoroughly soaked, the decision was made to leave:
What followed was an actually quite dangerous flight by the whole party that included wading through water waist-high and an extremely hazardous crossing of the San Joaquin River, this last involving a human chain across the river.
. . . the subsequent (dry) trip back to Los Angeles only served to heighten the trip’s seeming unreality, which the intervening years have only enhanced. And now? Now, we simply call it "the Rain Trip."
Photos: "Rain Trip Meadow"—Sierra Nevada, 1976; "Rain Trip Meadow"—Sierra Nevada, 2009; Mike on Redneck—Sierra Nevada, 2009
As I have recounted elsewhere, California and the West by Charis Weston was one of my earliest photo books. My favorite chapter in the book was Chapter V: High Sierra, Lake Ediza, her account of a mule-packing trip she, Edward Weston and Ansel Adams took in 1937.
Therein, Ms. Weston recounts her struggle to hike the distance: "The trail ran easily along a hillside, down to a river fording, then zigzagged steeply up two thousand feet of sheer mountainside." Apparently after reaching the lake a titanic battle with mosquitoes ensued [pre-deet days]. Later, her description of the scenery is still apt: "Volcanic Ridge, a dark forbidding mass, closes off the east; south, the Minarets—a line of jagged black spires, patched with snow that looks like cut-out bits of paper—tower in the sky; to the west Mt. Ritter and Banner Peak, both around thirteen thousand feet—story-book mountains neatly cut triangular masses of snow and rock." Lake Ediza ended up being the scene for some of Edward Weston’s most famous photographs, including Charis—Lake Ediza, False Hellebore—Lake Ediza and Iceberg Lake.
Mike had been to Lake Ediza several times before on various backpacking trips and wanted to go again: thus, this year’s trail ride. After much—yes—zigging and zagging, Hali, Mike, Dave the wrangler and the horses arrived at Lake Ediza. Hali and Mike wandered down to the shore for lunch and pix while Dave attended to the steeds. After an hour, they mounted up and began the trip back.
Photos: Lake Ediza—Sierra Nevada, 2009; Minarets from Lake Ediza—Sierra Nevada, 2009; Hali & Mike—Sierra Nevada, 2009
During their latest camping trip Hali & Mike took a trail ride out of Agnew Meadows up to Lake Ediza using the trusty steeds and guide services of the Reds Meadows Pack Station. Hali rode "Coors" and Mike rode "Redneck."
Luckily, Mike brought up the rear, thus being able to take pix of the riders up in front.
Mike wanted to return to this campground on the banks of the San Joaquin River, in recognition of his first camping experience at the same location in 1959.
So it was that Hali & Mike found themselves in a fairly nice campsite, away from the river and any late-summer mosquitoes. The only caveat was that it was too close to the road in and out of the campground. Since the campground is fairly small, you would not have thought that there would be any real traffic going in and out. But you would be wrong. Mike speculated that a lot of the traffic was due to fisherpeople driving into this location for trout fishing opportunities.
Hali’s camping style is much more organized, elaborate and gourmet-ish than Mike’s, with great salads, BBQ shrimp on skewers, etc etc.
The Minarets form part of California’s Ritter Range—intertwined with, but separate from, the nearby Sierra crest. I first visited this area, near Devils Postpile National Monument, in 1959. At that time my friend Howard and I camped at the Minaret Falls Campground and hiked up to Minaret Lake.
I’ve taken a number of photos of the Minarets from Minaret Outlook, near the Mammoth Mountain ski area. I’ve even been able to sell some!
Photos: Minarets During Storm—Sierra Nevada, 2007; Minarets, Afternoon—Sierra Nevada, 2009
I had earlier posted on a Kamakura hummingbird sighting. However, alert blog reader Barbara notified me that hummingbirds occur naturally only in North and South America.
A few minutes on Google led to the inexorable conclusion that the "hummingbird" was no hummingbird! It was a "hummingbird hawkmoth." From the Japan Times:
Adults hover over flowers to feed on the nectar, sucking it out with a proboscis (tongue) up to 30 mm long. The moth has to remain a constant distance from the flower in order to take up nectar, so it has very finely tuned reactions and highly controlled flight ability. If there is a gust of wind, the moth instantly and precisely follows the movement of the flower head.
But you know, it's cool. I see hummingbirds every day here, have to chase them away practically.
But I've only seen one Hummingbird Hawkmoth. (Blog post originally published 2008.)