Shadows

Stairs, West Hollywood. (c) Jared Fortunato | Photography

I'm obsessed with the shadows.

I watch them transform the surfaces of our little house, creating geographic typography on the walls and floors, casting everyday objects with a mysterious form.

The quality of light as it moves through the day is what gets me the most. It's unexpected. Fantastic. Mutable beyond imagination, a hard an unforgiving glare that can give way to the most unbearably tender glow. 

I'm fascinated. 

It seems an appropriate time to be consumed with shadows. It's almost Halloween here in the City of Angels. Entire blocks look like a decent into Inferno. Devils, ghouls and ghosts of every manifestation adorn the sidewalks, and to enter many a bar or restaurant means to pass through the maw of some supernatural creature. It's disconcertingly festive.

And oddly comforting.

The ultimate celebration of the dark places that give depth to the light. 

Bud vase, West Hollywood. (c) Jared Fortunato | Photography

Stairs: Late afternoon, West Hollywood. (c) Jared Fortunato | Photography

Sofa, Mid-morning, West Hollywood. (c) Jared Fortunato | Photography

Palm tree with hide, West Hollywood. (c) Jared Fortunato | Photography