In the same booth of political memorabilia were the four men depicted here. Interesting one and all. Three were presidents. If you need to known who they were, then you are too young to remember. Goldwater ran for the office but never was elected president. He was considered way to radical in his day. Sadly, he’d not be considered too radical here and now.
Vending machines. No, those are not real (stale) packs of cigarettes. Classic brands! You don’t see these machines around any longer. We regulate and ban just about everything. But you can still legally buy cancer. Then, we have health care to take care of it. There’s one catch. You can’t buy health. And vending machines don’t sell cigarettes any more. Ah! Two…
Edward Hopper – Diner – I wish that I could paint…not. This fountain set up was in the back of an antique store in Oakland, Maryland. Ha! Old fashioned. Maybe it was an old “Five and Dime” at one point. Right now, it’s old and quaint. The staff were not wearing period costumes. That would have been cool. There’s one in Damarascotta, Maine. And the soda jerks dress to match. But Maine’s a long way to go from here. Hmmm. It was a girl who waited on us in Maine. What’s the female equivalent to a soda jerk?
A long long time ago… I saw this image in a travel brochure. It was a winter view of the falls with ice and snow and … oh my! It has been on my bucket list of images. Remember I’m a photo opportunist at heart. So it was not OCD enough for me to make a special trip. I was just keeping the image on my list. The point is to shoot the image yourself. Otherwise the internet will provide you with far better shots than I got. I did not hike down to the ideal location to capture the image. My OCD does not extend forever. I could have done better. I wonder why I did not go further. Time was limited. It was slippery. But, I was there, And, this is my shot. Done.
Not Holland. Not quaint. I came across a gallery painting which the artist had labeled “Change.” Across rural America, there are more and more windmills. Renewable energy. Will tourists be excited to photograph them someday? I really did like going across Holland. Ah, wooden shoes…they won’t be fashionable any time soon? Technically correct, they are windmills. Picturesque, they ain’t.
Here are some recent signs I’ve run across. Old brands are fun. You may remember some. Or not. If you are certain age, then this is silly stuff. Someday you will have your own history to recall. Hey! These are such old signs that some of them are meaningless to me too.
I shoot images of the American flag when I come across them. Recently there were a series of patriotic shots in a row. Nice. Yay team! Lately, I’ve wondered which team and whether I support the coach. Sorry, no. Boo, coach!
I go to antique stores. It’s loosely defined as something older than 100 years. Cars don’t often live to one hundred and printed materials are frequently centuries old. I did a typewriter series a little bit ago. Typewriters date back to last century. How quaint! My connection to typewriters is with term papers I typed in the middle of the night. Mistakes were not tolerated (OCD me). Correct tape and erasers were frowned upon. Ah, well, it was an old Underwood for me. You may have used another. There’s a really old one pictured. The label said, “Don’t touch. This is a $500 typewriter.” Ha! Well, I moved the tag. What’s the point? No one uses film cameras any more either. I saw an Argus C3 “brick” for $45 and it’s junk on eBay for $6. You can dream. A treasure is worth what someone else is willing to pay. Anyone want a $500 typewriter?
Is it me? I keep questioning the time – this time. Dreaming right? Nightmare? Indigestion? Does everyone else see and read something else? I’m bewildered. World opinion has been harsh and immediately polarized. “Ugly American?” Roughly 300 million Americans – 50 million voted for – and 50 million against. The rest… Look in the mirror. I don’t wake every morning to see an ugly American in my mirror. Check yourself. He’s been called the “White House apprentice.” Maybe it’s time? Late night talk shows and Saturday Night Live are loving this. They sell advertising based on the fact that audiences love this clown. Sorry, what else can you call the twitter antics? Obama got his Nobel. donnie got the cover of this mag. This year everyone will wear “orange.” You can’t make this stuff up.
Half the voters put him in the office. They still agree with the asshole. Anarchy. There’s not much I can do. It’s likened to shoveling shit against the tide. I’m nobody. But check around and see whom he denigrates. No one is too small. Let’s start a movement. No more caps for his name. it’s just trump. He doesn’t deserve caps. Let’s see if it will drive him up a wall. go donnie. I bet donnie will burn his ass too. Every journey starts with a single step. Pass it along.
Photo tip – move low with the camera to get a lower perspective. You get a different perspective. You can move the background out of distraction. It also helps if your eye can focus on a particular point in the pattern. I’m not perfect but it does catch your eye.
Today is protest day. Don’t buy anything. Do your part to disrupt commerce and let the government know you will not be silent in the face of outrageous behavior. Oh baby oh baby. Yeah! Sorry to my Republican friends, the few who remain.
I have been exposed. I have been there. I have seen them. Cool. Checked off the to do list. Sorry. It’s like smelling bacon. It is not something to be described but to be experienced. Words do not adequately describe a taste or smell. What I see goes through my occipital cortex. Where it goes from there… clueless – me.
… with George. A Sunday on La Grande Jatte — 1884. Pointillism, George Seurat. It was part of the title of a musical by Sondheim. Enough? Look closely and there is no actual detail. It’s “pointillism.” Get the point? Been there more than once. Seen it. I believe I missed the “art gene.”
I had no art work for show and tell – parent visit on conference day in kindergarten. Forced to confront a blank sheet of paper I took a single color and proceeded to paint a twisted path all over the paper in one color with a single brush. Asked what this was, I replied, “A rollercoaster…” I do believe I remember the steam rising as the teacher silently walked away. I was not asked to produce another piece of work the rest of the year. Every kid needs the right button. Points of paint – that would have intrigued me enough to experiment with the science of art. Some people are art and others – not.
Before I belt in I have my camera on my lap. You never know. Gotcha! Yeah, you can get some interesting shots. Arresting. Be careful or you might be….arrested. But clouds never obscure your view of the sunrise or sunset. However, sometimes the clouds will help to make things more dramatic. You can’t get the shot if the camera is not in your hand. It’s ain’t photo lessons. It’s opportunity.
Everyone laughs when I take out my camera on a plane. It’s not good – the conditions. You are at altitude moving along at 500 mph shooting through scratched plexiglass with sunglare and cabin reflections. Try a night shot? Oh brother! It’s a slow shutter speed that will surely blur your image. “Every once in a while a blind squirrel gets a nut.” Never give up. I go with a shutter speed of 1/100 sec. Let the ISO run on auto. Press the shutter and hope for the best. Nuts! Yup!
Very bad joke – not PC – sorry to you “trumpers” –
What to you call a boy with no arms and no legs hanging on your wall? – “Art.”
I’ve been to many a museum. You go to appreciate art. But, I ponder the photo op. How? What? You go to the source to see the painting. Brushstroke? Texture? Cracks? Detail? Is there some connection to the original that supplants the image in a book, online, or from my camera? I still don’t know. What? I’ve shot full frame and detail. I’ve seen iconic art in different museums. I saw the Mona Lisa in Paris. Try as I might it’s still a work in progress for me. I go. I look. I photograph. None are keepers for me. I keep going so I guess I haven’t given up.
… a boy with no arms and no legs on your doorstep – “Matt”
A broken clock has the right time twice a day. My sad tale begins with that grandfather clock (see previous post) gaining an hour a day. My friend adjusted the pendulum. That failed. The next thing you know – “boing…” – as in cogs and wheels all over the place. Be careful what you unscrew. I have no lack of ego or confidence. Wrong! Bad! The “cat is outta the bag.” I got a lot of parts like an impossible puzzle that needs to be put together. Online – the replacement is $649. No way! Ebay! The choices were poor. And the prices were high too. Ebay auction – the price started at .99 cents. One week later I won the auction at $10.50. Let’s see if the part fits and works. Otherwise my bargain clock is now a very large paperweight.
Romano’s Macaroni Grill – there’s a difference when you have a good manager. I ate in the place in Wilmington. It was bad enough for me to write off the chain. Too bad. However, I was persuaded to try another branch in Frederick, MD. Better! Much! Enough that I will return. It’s not as good as the Filipino’s cooking in Jeddah. Hey! You ‘d never know the extent to which I would go to get something so simple as chicken parmesan. The other dish pictured is goat cheese stuffed pepper glazed with balsamic vinegar. Yes, I had a nice meal in a chain restaurant.
It reminds me of American Gothic. Sorry, it’s not too similar. But…it fits for me. They pose. I shoot. Everyone is happy. These days happy is good.
New! We took apart silk worm cocoons. Yeah! That’s an actual worm inside. Don’t ask. PETA will be all over me. I eat meat too. Steak! Ham! Chicken! I’m not against them. (Ambiguous?)
Okay, soak the cocoons and then wind the silk off. I watched the YouTube. And then we screwed it all up. What I know? Wet warm water. A single fiber has great pull apart strength. We started with a couple – three strands and got it up to six or so. It worked pretty well. It looks a mess but in a beautiful way. Now too wash and then process. It’s not over. More to come…
Cute! Now I know what it’s like to be “cat proud.” In lieu of speaking of your kids, it’s an obvious option. Pets can calm you. Therapy! I’m in need of sedation. This pair of characters are at least friendly enough. Lulu and Cassie were never buddies. “Friends” are better.
It becomes felt when you lie on it exerting heat, pressure, and rubbing. Willow was just visiting and rolling in the fleece. Plan? Washing and processing to make spun yarn. After that we will turn it over to a weaver. No felt please. Go back. Can you tell the difference between Willow and Patch? …not me.
It’s a soft sided basket a bit too small for Patch’s wide body eighteen pound frame. He’s a big boy even though there’s a lot of fur too. He loves his basket and sleeps there for hours at a time. He’s laid back. Shares. Someone else comes along and sleeps in his spot, Patch is cool. He’s got good taste. We can’t seem to find another like it. Go figure.