Photography by Vladimir Shapovalov

  • Elsa She tried not to think about he approaching meeting, but it just seemed that none of her favorite occupations were as interesting as they they used to be.
  • Contemplation
  • Danaë
  • Mirror That thinnest of the borders between the real and the imagined.
  • Don Calixto
  • El Porvenir
  • Elijah
  • Lines in the water 12
  • Lines in the water 37
  • The Sun Pillar The last beam of the sunlight pierces the darkening skies.
  • A Lone tree
  • A Place of Reflection The coastal fog often enveloped the little hill. It absorbed the light, the sound, and the smells. At such moments it seemed that this small piece of Earth was the only existing thing in the whole Universe.
  • The Pigeon Point Lighthouse The old lighthouse was looking towards a sunny clearance in the clouds. It wanted to shake off the salty spray, to stretch higher, reach above the clouds. But the sense of duty have won over this foolishness, and the tower stood still, proper and dignified.
  • The Blue Hour As the day was about to begin, the skies were filling out with color, and the Moon, having already lost its domain, rushed to hide beyond the horizon.
  • Eternity The rock was what gave this place its lasting quality. The ocean ebbed and flowed. The Moon changed day after day. But the rock - the rock remained the ancor that fastened it all together.
  • Hetch Hetchy The stars spill across the sky, and somewhere behind the mountain flow into the lake like a waterfall. The deer pick the stars out of the water, and with their antlers push them back into the skies, so that the Heavenly stream doesn't stop.
  • Davenport There is an abalone farm in Davenport. When an abalone shell is opened we can admire the iridiscent colors of the nacre - pink, blue, green, purple. Then the abalone's spirit rises up to the sky, and creates a star - pink, blue, green, purple.
  • Discuss
  • San Francisco City Hall
  • The Port of San Francisco
  • Rain on Lake Merced
  • Rain in San Francisco.
  • Americana

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Images and text ⓒ 2009-2015 Vladimir Shapovalov