3503.
The tyranny of choice is a thing to contend with.
The idea of that is that having too much good stuff to choose from is as paralyzing as having too little. A multiplicity of options only stymies you because you have so many choices to make and you want every one to count, so you dither, dither, dither. Eventually you get as much done in as much time as having nothing at all to choose from.
I took what I considered to be a great many photos from the Sellwood Bridge last Saturday, the aim being to get some sort of idea as to what it's been like now that a year and a half had passed since the bridge dedication. Doomed mission from the start. So I've identified a couple-three themes and will post some themed sets over the next couple of days, giving you, my notional reader, and myself, something to come back to.
By now it should be obvious that one of my obsessions is The Iconic Skyline Photo of Downtown Portland, Oregon. Its something that, by its definition, can never be completely satisfied, especially with the speed at which Portland continues to mutate and change. While the top of the Sellwood isn't the most ideal viewpoint, is still is a superb one, as the view down the Willamette River is unobstructed and the natural geography provides incomparable opportunities for framing and atmosphere.
From the top of the Sellwood to that tall monolith with the vertical stripes ... the Wells Fargo Tower ... the straightline distance is about three and a half miles. By road, around five. For a city of national stature, Portland is compact, but for an Oregon city, here, where sprawl is a cardinal sin, it's glandular to a great many of us. This, to me, is a very long way.
The above shot I chose precisely because of the intervening objects. The rail-line and the Springwater Corridor Trail, leading into town ... the road to Oaks Amusement Park, just along side ... the welter of wires and supporting poles and trellises, all are still dominated by the green of the trees. Even that massive pile of construction has trouble competing, from this angle.
The river, which animates us. The Willamette has been through a great many changes, from when Tom McCall got the state to clean her up to hassles about sewage and CSOs, and more, and now the peculiar absurdity we call South Waterfront, still crane-enabled after all this time.
But still, we put our best face towards the Willamette when we can. We are a river town.
There's a little sandbar there in the river. It has a name. Toe Island. Just pointing that out.
Beyond the western margin of Ross Island, that's the Lloyd District, 2017. I count six high-rises here. Four of them didn't exist as recently as 15 years ago.
And boats. You can't keep us off our river.
And here, a wide-angle panorama. Downtown, crane busy puttins something else up. There's a city amidst those woods, but you wouldn't be completely knowing of this if someone didn't tell you. On the top of the hill in the upper left, that's Marquam Hill, and that's the main hospital complex of OHSU, and, if I haven't mentioned it before, we Portlanders love calling it Pill Hill, because wouldn't you expect us to?
In the foreground, the houseboats of the Macadam Bay Club. It must be of some absurd comfort, knowing that a flooded basement is the way things are supposed to be.
The idea of that is that having too much good stuff to choose from is as paralyzing as having too little. A multiplicity of options only stymies you because you have so many choices to make and you want every one to count, so you dither, dither, dither. Eventually you get as much done in as much time as having nothing at all to choose from.
I took what I considered to be a great many photos from the Sellwood Bridge last Saturday, the aim being to get some sort of idea as to what it's been like now that a year and a half had passed since the bridge dedication. Doomed mission from the start. So I've identified a couple-three themes and will post some themed sets over the next couple of days, giving you, my notional reader, and myself, something to come back to.
By now it should be obvious that one of my obsessions is The Iconic Skyline Photo of Downtown Portland, Oregon. Its something that, by its definition, can never be completely satisfied, especially with the speed at which Portland continues to mutate and change. While the top of the Sellwood isn't the most ideal viewpoint, is still is a superb one, as the view down the Willamette River is unobstructed and the natural geography provides incomparable opportunities for framing and atmosphere.
From the top of the Sellwood to that tall monolith with the vertical stripes ... the Wells Fargo Tower ... the straightline distance is about three and a half miles. By road, around five. For a city of national stature, Portland is compact, but for an Oregon city, here, where sprawl is a cardinal sin, it's glandular to a great many of us. This, to me, is a very long way.
The above shot I chose precisely because of the intervening objects. The rail-line and the Springwater Corridor Trail, leading into town ... the road to Oaks Amusement Park, just along side ... the welter of wires and supporting poles and trellises, all are still dominated by the green of the trees. Even that massive pile of construction has trouble competing, from this angle.
The river, which animates us. The Willamette has been through a great many changes, from when Tom McCall got the state to clean her up to hassles about sewage and CSOs, and more, and now the peculiar absurdity we call South Waterfront, still crane-enabled after all this time.
But still, we put our best face towards the Willamette when we can. We are a river town.
There's a little sandbar there in the river. It has a name. Toe Island. Just pointing that out.
Beyond the western margin of Ross Island, that's the Lloyd District, 2017. I count six high-rises here. Four of them didn't exist as recently as 15 years ago.
And boats. You can't keep us off our river.
And here, a wide-angle panorama. Downtown, crane busy puttins something else up. There's a city amidst those woods, but you wouldn't be completely knowing of this if someone didn't tell you. On the top of the hill in the upper left, that's Marquam Hill, and that's the main hospital complex of OHSU, and, if I haven't mentioned it before, we Portlanders love calling it Pill Hill, because wouldn't you expect us to?
In the foreground, the houseboats of the Macadam Bay Club. It must be of some absurd comfort, knowing that a flooded basement is the way things are supposed to be.
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