Weathered Pylons: Introduction

Every day, I look out of the window at an old industrial channel in South San Francisco, and make sure I daydream for at least a few minutes.  I stare at the sky, the hills in the distance, and the water. 

On this channel are the remnants of maritime loading docks, such that only the weathered stumps of the wooden pylons, or support structures, remain.  Over time, through wave-action, chemical exposure to sea-water, and the bioprocesses of certain marine organisms, these wooden stumps were eroded, as well as covered with barnacles and mussels.  In fact, very little of the original wood remains, as the empty shells of the sealife have gradually replaced the wood.

During my daydreams, the pylon shapes emerged from the water every day when the tide receded.  At first I took them for granted, but later realized that their reassuring and peculiar shapes had seamlessly merged with my daydreams.  And then when I let my mind wander, sometimes the shapes would reappear in my thoughts.   On some days I would look out of the window and obsessively wait for them to emerge, as if waiting to meet old friends. 

The pylon structures managed to infiltrate my psyche without any effort, perhaps satisfying a subliminal need, in the way any surrealist found object would.  It was only until I started consciously looking for them during low tide that I realized their poetic energy when they wordlessly communicated with each other every day.