Tag: urban photography

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 17, 20228:01 pm

Pizza Face

D you recall that scene from movie Poltergeist where the dude picks apart his face? I feel kind of the same way about the Featured Image, captured today using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/400 sec, 28mm; 1:09 p.m. PST.

Looked at from a different gruesome perspective, how is self-cannibalism an effective way to sell pizza? You tell me. The mural is on the same side of building as yesterday’s two slices but closer to the street and behind a temporary fence; the new eatery isn’t yet open for business—but soon, presumably.

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 16, 20228:53 pm

Cheesy or Queasy?

Do you remember this mural from the abandoned Twisted Taps? The building art is gone—replaced by what you see in the Featured Image. I see something disturbingly dystopian about the pizza slices, representing the new restaurant taking up residence. The drawing style immediately makes me think of something out of Invader Zim.

Also appears to be missing, and I will need to walk over to Louisiana Street and El Cajon Blvd in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood to confirm: The tree behind the building, visible in the photo from August 2021. Is it really gone, or is the slightly closer perspective enough to hide the towering thing?

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 15, 20228:44 pm

Whither the Homeless Maine Coons?

After the August 2021 clearcutting of their backyard habit and sale of the property two months later, I assumed that kitties Mimi and daughter Sweet Pea would make their home elsewhere—particularly in the outdoor space provided by the woman who cared for them. But as grass, plants, shrubs, and trees regrew, the Maine Coons clung to the territory where they had lived for the better part of a decade. Mimi unexpectedly posed for me on Jan. 2, 2022. Vitals for the Featured Image, captured using iPhone 13 Pro: f/2.8, ISO 32, 1/126 sec, 77mm; 11:17 a.m. PST.

I saw one or the other longhair in the yard several times a week, last month; now, likely no longer. Looks like the new owners won’t raise the house to build a massive multi-unit structure on the massive lot—increasingly commonplace for San Diego real estate. Instead, renovation is underway, and it is structurally extensive. Debris and building materials currently occupy portions of the backyard where roamed the cats. The foundation is being massively reconstructed, which surely is sign the house will remain.

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 11, 20228:34 pm

Mission Valley, a Dozen Years Ago

For reasons only guessed and not remembered, on July 16, 2010, I stopped at one of the University Heights overlooks and pointed Leica X1 at Mission Valley below. The view is much changed 12 years later, as apartment and condominium construction has transformed the horizon.

Dramatically more development is ongoing and the number of projects increasing. In autumn 2019, San Diego City Council approved a plan to add 50,000 more residents to Mission Valley by 2050, bolstered by the building of even more high density housing.

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 9, 20228:42 pm

The Humiliation Games

On the same day the 2022 Olympics opened, February 4, I passed by something appropriate and timely: discarded pair of thirtytwo brand snowboarding boots. Their abandonment, along the North Avenue alley in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, could be a metaphor for what’s being chucked away in Beijing right now: fair competitive spirit, human dignity, and truthfulness. It’s all humiliating.

Let me count the ways: Humiliating that, because of surveillance, athletes were instructed to bring burner phones to China—and, for their own safety, not to publicly criticize the host nation. Humiliating that China presented as propaganda a token Uyghur during the opening ceremony; what genocide? Humiliating that Russian President Vladimir Putin joined Chinese President Xi Jinping, while Western nations, including the United States, chose not to send diplomatic delegations. Humiliating that Chinese officials dragged away a Dutch reporter during a live broadcast. Humiliating that athletes quarantined for positive SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 are mentally and physically impaired by poor food quality and living conditions. Humiliating, and convenient, that some foreign gold medal contenders test Coronavirus positive and can’t compete. Humiliating that most NBC Sports commentators and hosts are broadcasting from the United States rather than China.

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 6, 20229:27 pm

The Teardown

The massive redevelopment of my San Diego locale advances so briskly that today’s cute business or residence is tomorrow’s demolition. In December 2021, while walking along the University Heights side of Park Blvd, I saw that vintage clothier Frock You! had closed. Strangely. On the door was an eviction notice from the county sheriff, while clothes and debris littered the business’ (uncharacteristically exposed) outdoor shopping area, which had attracted a cadre of the homeless. The adjacent businesses were shuttered, too, suggesting a soon-to-be teardown before the build up of something new.

Fast forward to this afternoon and my first venture that way in more than six weeks. A fence cordons off the former strip of shops and what had been a beautiful home converted into several residences—the Featured Image and companion. The exposed kitchen appliances piqued my interest enough to pull out iPhone 13 Pro and point it through one of the spaces among the chain-links.

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 4, 20229:07 pm

The Painted Garden

Around University Heights and adjacent San Diego neighborhoods, I see more murals like this one: Painted on personal property, not necessarily a business. They add magnificent charm and character—and individualized flare that pops compared to nearby houses.

I feel for the homeowners, who deserve to stake out some semblance of freedom and peace. The mural faces the forever commercial construction site across the alley separating Georgia Street and Park Blvd at Monroe. In June 2015, a house sitting on that corner at Park sold for $525,000. The worksite has existed for so long that I can’t recall dates when. But using Google Maps Street View snapshots over time, I see that demolition and early construction commenced no later than June 2016—for a lumbering, three-and-a-half story mixed-use business and residential building far from finished.

Photo by Joe WilcoxFeb 3, 20229:02 pm

The Urban Jungle Gym

What qualifies as a park in one of San Diego’s supposedly trendier neighborhoods? Answer: North Park Mini Park—and, yes, that’s the name of the community seen in the Featured Image. When I think of a park, particularly in a coastal region with three Summer seasons (Early, Mid, and Late), lush space with grass, greenery, and trees comes to mind. Apparently, not in North Park, where cement rules.

Say, can some stereotypical, anti-carbon emissions, stop climate change citizen living there explain the environmental benefits of building another edifice that absorbs heat and in the process quite likely also contributes to global warming? Wouldn’t heat-reducing, carbon-dioxide absorbing, oxygen-producing plants, shrubs, and trees make more environmental sense and be more interesting a refuge for residents?

Photo by Joe WilcoxJan 28, 20229:59 pm

The House on Cleveland

Today’s question: How much longer before this lovely home is demolished and replaced with something ill-suited to the street? On Dec. 2, 2021, I used Leica Q2 to take the Featured Image, after my wife read about the property in University Heights Community Association News. Photo vitals, aperture manually set: f/4.5, ISO 100, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 12:18 p.m. PST.

According to public property records, the place sold for $1.595 million during October 2021. UHCA News reports: “This charming Victorian home at 4350 Cleveland is 2,000 square feet with 3 bedrooms and 2 baths and built in 1905, according to the 2015 Uptown Historic Resources Survey Report”.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJan 26, 20228:10 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Muncher

We continue to work through the backlog of sighted and photographed kitties—some held back in hopes of identifying them. Meet the eighty-fourth feline found behind door or window. For privacy purposes, I edited to prevent peeping into the room behind and also choose to withhold the street.

For months, I have walked by and wondered what that ceramic-looking thing was on the cat tree. It’s a food dish! The shorthair munched away (hence, the nickname) as my wife and I walked past on Jan. 2, 2022—the first and only sighting, so far. Two minutes later, at 10:10 a.m. PST, Muncher finished breakfast and posed.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJan 24, 20229:33 pm

Surprise in the Sky

Importing the Featured Image into Adobe Lightroom Classic revealed unexpected dirt on lens. Where did those specs come from? But zooming in close revealed something else: A flock of birds set against the clouds—and half-Moon. So I cropped to give you another peek at the amazing detail Leica Q2‘s 28mm f/1.7 Summilux lens captures. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/400 sec, 28mm; 9:24 a.m. PST, Dec. 26, 2021.

The close-crop won’t win awards for composition, but it’s not meant to. There’s a certain satisfaction to how the intended object, and story about it, becomes something more. Since crane also is a bird, surely there is a clever way to describe the happenstance (not that I can think one; perhaps you can).

Photo by Joe WilcoxJan 19, 20228:41 pm

Blasting Bureaucratic Bungling

For the first full day since San Diego road crews etched “North Park” into two traffic circles located in University Heights, the correct community name is displayed. I asked “Who Authorized This?” on Oct. 1, 2020, regarding the, ah, mishap at Alabama and Louisiana streets along Meade Ave. The city constructed the roundabouts as part of the Mid-City Bikeways project.

Restoration at Alabama started before Christmas 2021 but was repeatedly delayed by rainstorms. Work there completed last week and at Louisiana yesterday. The process was arduous and messy—and not just from the actual physical disruption; clutter and confusion replace the previous clean etching of letters and design. As such, I wonder if all the money and industry invested to correct the misnaming was wasted.