Light, colors, air, and water create a mesmerizingly stunning seascape. All is beauty. All is love. Staring out into the deep abyss, I am reminded of the last time I was at this place. It isn't the same, ever the same. Everything changes. Everything changes, I die a living death. I am renewed, I like to think, but the void remains.

It was rush hour. I sat inside my car in bummer-to-bummer traffic on the 10W heading back to Santa Monica. With the AC blasting I did not feel the scorching heat, though I know it was in the 80s. I looked out of my side window into the blinding light and saw buildings east of downtown backlit, creating an breathtaking skyline that represent the industrial parts of Los Angeles. My sun-kissed face felt the sun's magnificence and warm. For a moment, I exist oblivious to the long drive ahead. I lived in the beauty of that moment, how lovely I felt to be kissed by the sun. How lovely it feels to be kissed by the sun.

Up in the pristine mountains, nature achieves its own balance. Snakes, lizards, bees and trees coexist, each living and helping each other. Spider webs abound. The catch of the day could be seen between their entanglements, as sunlight shines through their tenuous threads. Their sheer beauty, intricacy, and simplicity fascinate me. I stand humbly between the towering trees in awe of nature's order, chaos, and magnificence. All is love. All is beauty. Simply perfect.

In the darkness of night, the head and tail lights from fast moving cars on the freeway become paint brushes as they create enchanting designs. The sense of time and space captured in the photographs reveal the uniqueness of each moment.

I've been interested in free association and the ways perception affects conception. Using random photographs from my personal library and the sortable feature from Thomas Fuchs' Scriptaculous library and modifications to Greg Neustaetter's lists, I've assembled a sortable photo collage. Does the order in which the images appear affect our conception? Do we weave different stories in our minds based on the order and size of the images? Does the subject of the set of images change as they are rearranged? Drag the images to reorder them and see for yourself.

The conditions of the different neighborhoods I passed through were hidden from view. The freeway cut through areas populated by people of varying different racial and financial background, yet it all looked similar from the freeway. At speeds of 65-70 miles, most things seemed a blur. Houses, cars, palm trees, advertisements, and signs came in and out of vision. The high speed strung them together into a continuous stream of objects that meant very little to me as I headed towards my destination.

Firework displays turned into competition among neighbors as we each tried to out do the other with bigger and louder explosions. Hanging out in the backyard, the pool-side view was spectacular, especially the ever changing reflections of the sparks on the surface of the dark water. I had a great time, hanging out with family.

Westwood is under construction. The landscape is changed and more beautiful, revealing the earth underneath the buildings. Soon the landscape will change again, as new structures dominate the skyline.

As I crossed a bridge, I noticed a man sitting on the steps, having a moment of quiet.

Heavy rain, thunder, and lightning cast a gloomy, dreary feel to Los Angeles. While I was out driving, I noticed the catastrophe that has fallen upon one unlucky car. The tree branch broke and landed on a car that was parked along the street. How unfortunate! As I stopped my car to capture the moment, I caught a man on a bike who was equally facinated by the sight of the fallen tree. Though I don't know him, we shared the moment together. Now I share it with you.

The sound and movement of balls shooting out of rectangular opening combined to make an exciting scene. It created a randomness that was never the same.

Standing in one spot, I turned clockwise to capture the full spectrum of what I saw in the sky. The simple composition of the poles and birds flying overhead captured my attention. I appreciate the pure forms and colors. Pure joy.

This was one of my more pleasant morning drives in Los Angeles. It was a clear day with light traffic, though the opposing traffic was heavy. I was able to just drive and enjoy the sun and clear sky. The mountains to either sides of the freeway added to the pleasantness.

I have always loved the Los Angeles freeways. They are amazing in their intricacies and simplicity. I see beauty in their structures and how they interact and divide communities. Everyday, I appreciate them for the efficiency they provide, for their functional purpose. But artistically, they represent something beautiful to me. They seem to be alive to me. People who travel on them breathe life into them. They represent the veins of humanity in a very impersonable urbanscape. They enable people to develop relationships and physical contact outside of their own isolated communities. I took the photos while driving on the 405 South on a cold, cloudy, and rainy day.

Night is the most interesting time of the day for me. It's how I like to see the world. I spend a lot of time in my car, who doesn't in Los Angeles. I drove up to the fence and it made me feel a sense of desolation and isolation. The fence, the dividing line, drew the line between me and freeway traffic. Colors can overwhelm my senses, so I decided to make these images black and white.

I often take for granted the beauty in the city that I live in. It's not until I have someone visiting that start seeing my town anew, from a refreshing perspective. Living in this city too long, sitting in traffic, and dealing with angry, bitchy people have taken a toll on me.

Most people only see photos of movie premiers in Westwood in magazines. I live in this city and take it for granted. I disdain premiers. They cause street blockage and traffic jams. All the years of going to UCLA and having to drive through Westwood Village have left a bitter taste in my mouth regarding the hoopla surrounding premiers. Though I realize that they might be a bore to me, some people would die to see a star in person.

From my log, I see that I get a lot of traffic to my site from outside of the U.S., so I need to keep in mind that something I find boring might not be boring to someone who doesn't live here. So, here I have captured one of my favorite activities, going to movies at big theaters late at night. Fox is a great theater to watch a movie in. I have many fond memories associated with the place. It is also the theater that many movies make their debut. Long lines surround the building during those times as people flock to catch a glimpse and mingle with the stars. We all want our 15 minutes of fame. In this city, most girls I know live by the saying: If you can't be star, go sleep with one.

I love going to the laundry mat to do my laundry when I have time. It's where I get to know the neighborhood that I live in. People spend hours there with little else to do but to wait, load and fold. Not too exciting. I spend most of my time observing the interactions between people, between couples who take the opportunity to show each other affection, children who are helping their parents out, and singles who are checking out the good looking people there...hoping they are single, available and interested.

The laundry mat is one of sources of entertainment. I enjoy watch my dirty laundry spinning, swirling, swish-swashing inside the machine. Thank god for modernity and technology, for the invention of the washing machine. Now, instead of washing my laundry by hand, I have the luxury to sit back, think, and observe. As I sit on the bench or table where people fold, contemplating, I would sometimes think about all those people who have washed their dirty laundry in the machines before me.

In a way, the laundry mat is place for communal cleansing. I go there and often leave feeling more connected. Too bad I don't do my laundry that frequently. The laundry mat is one of the last places, besides the park, that people, families can hang out and get to each other and bond with members of their community. I find that I really get to know someone by seeing their bed sheets, towels, clothes, and undergarments. These articles reveal people's taste, style, way of life, and relationships. They offer me an intimate snapshot of the people who share the space with me. I find meaning in the most ordinary and mundane things in life.

Golden rays of sunlight bounce off windows and casts long shadows that turn me into a tall green giant on the grass. It's that time special time of day before twilight that I can still enjoy the warm glow of the sun. I looked up and noticed the buzzing powerlines that clutter the airspace around me.

Amid the array of lines that supplies the energy for the city, that provides people with their entertainment and productivity, erupts the cross. I almost missed it amid the busy traffic of lines and tall buildings. In the city, the church and all that it represents fight for air space. It also fights for spiritual space. Many people in the city are too busy, too caught up in their pursuit of happiness to heed the call of religion, at least organized religion.

I once heard that Los Angeles is a soul-less place. I disagree. It has a soul, even a spiritual one, though maybe that favored spirit. God isn't the only force at work. In Los Angeles, sometimes God's nemesis takes over. And people forget that we are all bound in a common destiny. We share in a struggle for happiness, fulfillment, and perhaps enlightenment. I sometimes lose sight of what's important in life. It's easy to do in the city, which offer as many opportunities for self-enlightenment and well as self-destruction.

On the property of United Rentals stood a container of propane shooting up into the sky.

While I was shopping today, I stumbled upon a destruction/construction site. I started poking around, trying to figure out what is being built and more interestingly, what was being torn down. I noticed the piles of stones, pipes, and metal beams that were used to support the wrecked building.

As I walked around the enclosed construction site, I saw a sign that explained the whole situation. It was the death of a United Rentals building. I have never noticed it until now. It's one of those things that you don't miss until it's gone. The sign read,"Moving to Our Van Nuys Location. Eminent Domain has forced us to move to Van Nuys United Rentals." I sensed a hint of bitterness in the sign. There was another sign that announced that the location will be the future site of the new West Los Angeles Animal Services Center.

Seeing the destruction of United Rentals prompted me to question if we truly own anything. I found out that under the United States Constitution, the government can take and use property for public purpose. In exchange for the land, the government provides landowners "just compensation" for the property. According to the sign, this is what happened with United Rentals.

It saddened me to see the destruction.

Early mornings, hours before I awake, I often hear garbage trucks coming by our neighborhood emptying trash cans full of waste. I wonder where they come from and where they go dump the trash. I still don't know what unfortunate neighborhood they dump our trash at, but the trucks may come from a lot where they I found them parked.

Walking along the beach, close to the undulating waves, I took in the view from underneath the pier. It was quiet and solitary there and I could hear the waves crashing on the shore. I could smell the vast, salty Pacific ocean. My face was covered by a thin film of mist from the sea. It was cleansing and refreshing. The ocean beckons me and I continually go back to it. I am drawn to its vastness, mysteriousness, and dangerousness.

Skaters are one of my many loves. Growing up in Los Angeles, CA, most guys I meet are skaters or surfers. The beach was a big part of my life when I was growing up. I go back to the beach repeatedly for the inner peace that I feel there. I love watching and taking pictures of guys doing tricks on skateboards. They represent that carefree, experimental, and rebellious nature that I grew up with. Through the lens of my camera, I can stop their motion. If I could only stop the progression of time...

While I was at the beach admiring and capturing the sunset on film, I noticed another photographer doing the same. He was using his camera to record that magical moment he was experiencing. I documented him for what the image says about the photographer focused on his art. It's a photograph about the process of photography. Photography, to me, is about capturing a vision, making that vision come alive on film. I am intrigued by both the process and the end result.

The highlights of the parade were dancers in kimonos, beauty queens on floats, and anime characters. Unexpectedly, I saw my friend as an anime character in the parade. She was Super Sailor Venus, the one in the orange and white outfit (see below). I called out her name and when she saw me, she yelled out mine in disbelief. It was a special moment. I felt like running onto the street and giving her a hug but I was blocked by people sitting on the ground. I haven't seen her in so long. It was nice seeing her again. The people around me laughed at our expression of joy and excitement. I knew she was really into anime. I had told my boyfriend that she might be in it before I saw her. We met up later after she was done with the parade and took pictures.

The event was special in that it brought out generations of Japanese Americans. I liked seeing old women and young girls performing the traditional dances to Japanese music. I loved their kimonos. Their outfits looked so simple and elegant. The wooden shoes, however, didn't look practical for modern day use. They were definitely not made for running, but then, women wouldn't run in kimonos either.

After an afternoon of being bombarded by different images and sounds of Japanese culture, I found peace in an alley. I observed an old man on a walker strolling down the alleyway towards a buddhist temple. It promised refuge, safety, and serenity. It was inviting, but closed.

I saw these melons at the market tonight and decided to try one out. I am quite adventurous when it comes to trying out new fruits and vegetables. Initially I wasn't sure if the melon I was looking at was considered a fruit or vegetable. Some looked like they were part of the squash family. The one I ended up buying appeared to be a cross between a watermelon and a cantaloupe.

At the checkout counter, I learned that the one I chose was called a Santa Claus melon. What a funny name! I felt like it was Christmas in the August. I wonder why they are called that. I am looking forward to see what it looks like inside. Hopefully, it tastes good. It's not ripe enough to eat yet.

My tomato plant nearly killed itself by producing the bright red, delicious tomatoes. All the tomatoes have ripen. Before they end up on my dinner plate, I wanted to capture the tremendous effort of my tomato plant. I will probably have to get another one after I pick these tomatoes. I derived so much pleasure from watching my plant grow. I witnessed its cycle of life and I learned from it.

I am a subscriber to simplicity when it comes to design. Walking up the stairs today, I noticed the bold and strong lines the rail made on the steps. Very graphic, monochromatic, and basic. It stopped me long enough for me to take this photo. Design is all around us. I appreciate the design in nature, everyday products and architecture. I see beauty in everyday materials.

Perhaps that's why the Dutch Masters appeal to me. They heroicized the mundane, the everyday. Through their genre paintings they celebrate our commonality. In that commonality, of course, is death. Invariably, that was a central theme in their work - the memento mori. Our economic and social status in life might vary, but death binds us all.

They gallopped and pranced elegantly around the field. With their mane perfectly groomed, hoofs polished, they displayed their artistry and perfection of movement as they lept over obstacles set up to test their speed and precision.

Using the Nikon Super Coolscan 9282 Film/Slide scanner, I scanned in my color chromes of horses. Seeing the high resolution scans brought them back to life. I can see them in my mind, galloping and prancing about. I remember how they would sneeze at me, with that green hay coming out of their nostrils. They look magnificent. Seeing the chromes I took of them brought back the joy I experience around horses. They are one of my favorite subjects. They bring me much joy and serenity. I can spend all day with them watching them go about their day - eating, sleeping, roaming around the field.

When I am around them, I feel as though time has stopped and all that matters is my relationship with them. I gaze into their eyes and we seem to have an mutual understanding. At the stable, the smell of hay and horses nostalgic for simplier times, for a time when they roam freely around the wilderness. Now they've become our pets, and that makes me sad. We have taken away their freedom. We have invaded into their wilderness. They are the most beautiful creatures. My love affair with horses will last forever.

(I was thinking of "Paradise City" by Guns and Roses.)

The lockers caught my eyes because they had character. They are rusted and faded from exposure to the harsh elements of nature, if one could call the elements of nature in sunny Los Angeles harsh. The gray ones were the ones I used. I've never seen blue lockers until now. They even designated ones for handicapped people. That's so P.C..

Seeing them brought me back to my high school days, when between classes I always made a visit to my locker, that I shared with my best friend, Tina. It wasn't that there weren't enough lockers to go around. We just enjoyed seeing each other and catching up on the latest gossip and problems in our lives. I miss Tina.

Outside MOCA at the Geffen Contemporary, in the middle of Los Angeles' Little Tokyo, I was inspired to take these photographs of me and my boyfriend as we walked through the parking lot to my car. The shadows give me a new perspective on myself. Devoid of recognizable facial features, the self looks very different - refreshing and less distracting. The focus falls upon the shapes and lines, the interplay of lines and contours. Drama can be seen in the movement of the shadows, created by our movement. This series of photographs involving me and my boyfriend was taken in April.

I love self-portraits. I like the fact that I have control over access to the subject and permission to do as I want with it. Another important aspect to it is that I own the copyright to all the photos I take. I could be nude, I could be role-playing or acting. Art is personal. Many artists draw from the personal. I believe in that. I've learned from my feminist classes at UCLA that the "personal is political." The saying is cliche by now, but its implication remains powerful.

My art is autobiographical for the most part, for now at least. I am interested in taking it elsewhere. I explore myself through self-portraits, as Cindy Sherman has explored herself and issues through her self-portraits. Cindy Sherman developed and delivered her commentary about female existence through photos of herself in different situations and as different characters. She reaffirms one's self as a worthy subject. I think that's a big part in feminist art. From a female and feminist perspective, Sherman gets into character and comments about herself and the plight of women in society. She by trying on different roles as she attempts to find herself and her voice in the process.

Her untitled series of black and white photographs is my favorite. I am thinking about her because she was part of the exhibit, "Street Credibility," that I saw at MOCA in April. She's one of my biggest inspiration.

Another photographer who made an imprint on me from the exhibit was Lee Friedlander. He and fellow street photographer, Garry Winogrand, were part of the "Street Credibility" exhibit. I love Lee Friedlander's photographs of people on the streets of downtown New York. He's my other inspiration.

Sitting in a restaurant late at night, I love looking out the window and watching people and cars drive by. In the darkness, their forms and outlines, stand out as stark, sihouetted figures, mysterious and interesting. I feel voyeuristic as I sip my hot tea with lemon and honey, contemplating the relationships between different people I see just outside the window. The window pane shelters me from their existence. Their shadowy forms show details only when bright lights from cars and lamp posts fall upon them. People come in and out of focus depending on distance and illumination. I find forms in the dark fascinating.

Shapely vases on the tables and desks caught my eyes. Instead of being interested in furniture - couches, tables, chairs, etc. - I was more interested in the decoration on them. They evoke a calmness through the natural curvatures, colors, and placement.

It's never dark in the city, even at night. I look up at the night sky and it's not dark. There are lights on every building, on every street corner. I get so used to them that I barely notice they exist. Here's my tribute to the lights that I've come across at night - the lights that guide my every step as I take a stroll at night. They give off different colors, some greenish, some yellow, some whitish. They are interesting to look at.

I used to hang out in Chinatown with mom when I was a kid -- shopping for all the Chinese vegetables and food that are hard to find elsewhere. Those were the carefree, innocent days. Passing through it made me nostalgic. It has changed a lot. The community is always changing, in flux. Different groups of people have claimed it as their own for a while. The look is still very old Chinese, with the red pagodas and old Chinese men and women walking around. The young Chinese aren't really here. They have forsaken the place that their ancestors had stake their claim on. Chinatown is a place that is both familiar and foreign to me.

The streets of Downtown, Los Angeles on a Saturday afternoon are bustling with people shopping, working, and just hanging out. The buildings and people have a lot of character. I enjoyed being among them. The tall buildings create shadows that loom over the pedestrians on the street. They contribute mystery to the scene. The architecture in the city reminds me of the greatness of human creation. People in these buildings add life and character to these structures.

I am not sure what is being built, but probably something monstrous will be erected along Santa Monica Blvd. I miss the nice, green hills that were here before construction started.

3:15pm, June 27, Los Angeles, CA - I was crossing the bridge that connects one side of the Westside Pavilion with the other and noticed this amazing view of the Westwood Blvd. and the light traffic. I've presented a little analysis of trafifc in Los Angeles on a Sunday afternoon. It's not the madness that it usually is during the weekday. How refreshing!

Harry Potter flying in the air caught my eyes as I was walking by a toy store in a mall today. He was propelled by a little fan attached to the end of his broomstick. I tried to suspend his action as he was whirling by. It must have appealed to the kid in me. I can't wait to see "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban." I've read good reviews.

Driving at night and photographying people and interesting light patterns from lights around me, I was reminded of one of my favorite songs from Tori Amos, "A Sorta Fairytale". Shown below is painting of the night sky by lights from cars on the freeway, seen from the top of Hollywood Hills, CA.

Night shot of Shell Station in Los Angeles, CA.

Trees were chopped down after the fire in Southern California.

Self-portrait in store front featuring sewing machines and spools.

The dark skeletons of trees remain standing after the fire has scorched off their greenery and life. Nature has a way of taking care of itself. Life is sprouting all around the scorched trees.

Driving through the fire-scorched San Bernadino mountains, I saw this cross when I stopped for a break. A young man has died here and I wonder from what? Was it from the fires, a car accident or something else. His death made the place special. Someone's life ended at that very spot I was standing.

Cigarettes butts found in an ashtrash was the most interesting thing I encountered at the Getty. The photo exhibit was worthwhile, but I got tired of the place. It is so sterile.

From the "Photographers of Genius at the Getty," I appreciated the photographs of Edmund Teske.

"Anything is art, depending on what attitude you bring to it," Edmund Teske said. "Art is a matter of picking up on the mundane and giving it form at a higher level of expression."

My obsession with trash makes me feel like Oscar from Sesame Street. He always found beauty in some dirty, smelly shoes. I saw this chair and thought it was a pretty sight. Actually, I identify more with the main character from American Beauty who was captivated by the beauty of a bag blown by the wind. Likewise, I find beauty in the simple things.

Why would I want to go in after reading this warning.

Nature is irrespressible. These pretty, pretty flowers bloomed in the little dirt that is around. They brightened up my evening. They almost look like a Monet painting. Simply beautiful.

Looking at the high security of the concrete factory, I wonder if the shoes along the side the street belong to the poor soul who tried to break in.

Wood crates carry random slates. The are random and orderly at the same time.

Interesting sculpture of man-made items.

Rods on a shelf, ready to be used as support beams in construction. I happened upon a concrete factory that produces parts that make up the skyscrapers.

Another tree was chop down to make room for the concrete city. I am sad as I look at the tree stump.

Slabs of concrete can be seen through the fence. They compete with Mother Earth, and winning, it seems like. They are beautiful in their own way.

Zhang makes big locks. Yet another deterence to entry. I wonder what is going on in the factory. Perhaps I will never find out. I am content just to photograph its surroundings.

Locked gates serves as another deterence to entry. I thought the number 6 on the gate looked interesting. It's weathered and rusty.

Barb wire fences keep trespassers out of the factory.

Silhouette of a factory against the evening sky illustrates the beauty of industrialism. The clean, bold lines create great design.

I had a good dinner tonight and took this picture of lazy sue to remember it by. Though I didn't use any of the sauces there, it's their arrangement that I found appealing.

The wheat and weeds wavering in the wind represent nature left alone. When people stop fretting over their lawns and preening their vegetations, it's a beautiful sight. The natural order and chaos enchant me.

Computer moniters littered an empty lot.

The side of the car has become someone's canvas. Myke left his mark on it. He made turned the old abandoned car into his piece of art. I love grafitti art and initially drawn to the car because of it.

The headlight looks interesting. Who knows how long the car has been sitting in the lot. That's what makes it intriguing. It raises questions in my mind and piques my curiosity.

When I saw this old abandoned car in an empty, I can imagine a family driving and using it all these years. It was loved. I looked through the windshield and could see, in my mind, the person who once drove it.

Seeing a tree stump always makes me sad. I wonder how old it has been around and what gives man the right to kill it. I am reminded of our destruction of nature. We are paving the world with cement. Nature will fight back one day. There aren't that many trees in the big city, so when one is cut down, I take notice.

Some have carved their names and messages of love on the bamboos. How romantic!

Friendly squirrel remains calm and continues eating as I slowly approached it.

My walk through the woods has awakened my sense and filled me with renewed hope. I see the beauty of nature. I appreciate my own beauty and the beauty of life all around me. I was pleasantly surprised to come upon a creek filled with turtles.

A cart. A pitcher. A piece of art.

Here's a squirrel looking right back at me.

Don't ask why I have it, but I do. It's growing on me. :)

American flags flew in the wind at the Riverside National Cemetery on Memorial Day. It was a day of remembrance.

I found these mushrooms growing under a tree at the Riverside National Cemetery.

Too bad this little tomato fell from its tree before it had a chance to ripen. :(

Venice Beach, CA - If only I can sit on that bench and take in the sun.

Venice Beach, CA. Business as usual on the boardwalk.

Floral couch reminds me of something my grandmother owned when I was a kid. I saw it on my drive around the neighborhood.