photography

Mountain Moss

Mustard colored oak leaves offer an Andy Goldsworthy moment.

Gilmer County Mindfulness

The Zen practice of stone stacking brings mindful awareness to balance, weight, texture and shape.

Resident trail guides Buster and Dixie collect stones from the stream, often carrying them great distances. Buster greeted the sculptures with growls and barks as the fur on his shoulders stood straight up.

Virginia Creeper, Parthenocissus quinquefolia

View more ivy, graffiti, and abandon…

White Calla Lily, Zantedeschia aethiopica

Mr. calla lily lives in the shadow of a cemetery in Valparaiso, Chile. His name comes from an Italian botanist, Giovanni Zantedeschia.

A group of artists tend this garden on the southwestern side of the cemetery. Beyond the lily grows an avocado, or “palta” plant. A sculpture dries in the sun.

Valparaiso, Chile

Mentor and Apprentice

Much of the work here involves restoration of marble headstones and statues.

After exploring the graves, we discovered a stairway leading under the cemetery.

A Friendly Host

The cavernous, open-air studio consists of subsections for a variety of creative trades, from sculpture restoration, to mosaics.

Random curiosities like this mummified cat greet visitors.

Mummified Cat Biting a Dwarf

Valparaiso’s labyrinthian escaleras are an endless canvas for local artists.

Dogs and Cat

Graffiti Porteño, Valparaiso

Rickety funiculars cut the time it takes to scale Valparaiso’s steep hills.

The old funiculars are loud and rickety, yet strangely comfortable and familiar. Listen to audio within a Valparaiso funicular on its way down:

Red Bougainvillea, Bougainvillea glabra

St Marys, Georgia

Elqui Valley, Chile

This bougainvillea adorned balcony in Santiago’s Barrio Bellavista rests around the corner from “La Chascona,” Pablo Neruda’s home named for his lover and third wife, Matilde Urrutia. The name means “the uncombed.”

Street art surrounds the curious homes in one of Santiago’s most bohemian enclaves.

In the center of Santiago, some college kids spent an afternoon of their winter break giving away free hugs, or “abrazos gratis.” In stark contrast to the youthful positivity, the man standing next to his bike was prosthelytizing about brimstone and hellfire, and the second coming of Jesus.

At times it was safer to pull out a handheld recorder, than a bulky camera that could easily get snatched. Listen to a stroll through the heart of Santiago:

Later, we came across a blind couple and their young daughter singing for change. The girl sat on the ground between her mother’s legs. Listen below:

Pearl Fryar’s Topiary

Last month I drove to Bishopville, a small rural town in Central South Carolina. It’s home to a kind soul named Pearl Fryar. Around three thirty, he was speaking to a group of middle-aged tourists. Unbeknownst to Pearl, his website states that the gardens close at four on Saturdays, but after the group left, our conversation lengthened with afternoon shadows.

After working more than thirty years in a can factory while sculpting trees and shrubs each night, Fryar has managed to transform pockets of the depressed town into fantastical worlds of living sculpture. Pearl’s self-taught craft began with discarded “junk plants” from a local nursery.