Culturally, red is said to scare lions. So, red is common to most garments of a Maasai warrior. But I detect a tartan influence. Scottish? This photo was snapped in Delaware. It was chilly. Beneath the cloak was a warm set of western style clothing. How does a well dressed Maasai warrior dress? I don’t know. I was too shy to ask.
Too numerous to pick. I was taking shot after shot. Mostly good. Pick one, or two… shots. I was not doing catalog work. I was looking for an image to stand out. Ah! Well, here’s my pick. As I say, too many images, not enough space. I don’t discard. But there is only so much time (too little) to acknowledge one’s work. Don’t spend too much time. I don’t obsess. I let gestalt prevail. View the lot and let one image catch your eye. It’s no beauty contest. No one will hate you if you do it.
In the National Portrait Gallery there is an atrium. And this was the venue for a large orchid display. Beautiful! Enjoy! And there were people to see it too. I missed the shot of a short white polka dotted dress on a tall young man with sideburns. Drat! But I got this one of a guy mimicking one of the flowers. Thank you for being there for me.
We went to the exhibit in the National Portrait Gallery on the women’s movement. I was vaguely aware. Now I am a bit more informed. A little bit of knowledge…? It started after the civil war and did not get women the vote until after WW I. Men stopped it, prevented it, did not see the need for it. Whatever! We still do not have an ERA – equal rights amendment. Who’s still out of it? How about Saudi Arabia? Things don’t change as much as they remain the same. Sad.
You can’t go back? Think. The women of Saudi have never had the right to drive. Oh! Yes! That has all changed? It was a show vote. There are no women driving around. Yes, and the women of Saudi vote too. Are things changed? Are they even less worse?
Fortunately, my file system was more antiquated and I actually labeled my images with names. Eric? I got a bunch. He’s much older now. Jules was an infant. Now, she has an infant, Noa. A lot has changed. And we are old. Happy birthday.
Protest! It’s your right. Folks love to converge upon Washington DC to make a political or social point. Dress in orange. Coordinate! I’m not sure what the orange shirts were protesting. There ample banners in the background. One and all? They were hardly noticed and scarcely drew a crowd or any attention. No doubt their photographer was documenting for ample social media coverage and use. Too many causes, so little time.
“To commemorate Women’s History Month, the National Museum of the American Indian presents The REDress Project, an outdoor art installation by artist Jaime Black (Metis). Showing in the United States for the first time, the installation of empty red dresses centers on the issue of missing or murdered indigenous women. Black hopes to draw attention to the gendered and racialized nature of violent crimes against Native women and to evoke a presence through the marking of absence.”
It’s not isolated nor limited to indigenous women. It’s worthy of note. It deserves more than a tsk tsk. What will you do? This museum, of all the Washington museums we passed, was the only one with a security check at the door. There’s not much controversy in dino bones. But here…
Don’t look. But there are signs all about. The homeless are invisible. Right here in the park, and right beside the parked cars, you can see the signs. Ignore them. People walk past. There is no protest. Live and let live. Invisible? The DC license plate admonishes “Taxation without Representation.” So, who’s problem is it? Federal, state, or local? No state? Pass the bread and praise the lord.
It fascinates me in Delaware. We are in the middle of intersecting jet trails that cross my sky. Everyone is on the way over Delaware to somewhere else. Out of NYC, Baltimore, Philly, DC. From overseas. The jet trails cross hither and yon. But DC? It seems they are also at an intersection as well. I don’t feel so left out watching the rest of the world pass by.
There’s a plastic beer cup in the corner. The tableaux is on a fashionable street in Georgetown. Peering into the grassless backyard there is a grill and more empties lying on the ground. It’s nice to see an equal opportunity drinking establishment. For a while there every other post was cats. I was cooped up too long this winter. I’m getting out again. That’s good for you all too.
You just can’t saunter onto to the porch and just sit down. Enter through the door please. When we passed by about an hour later the place was full up. And, the door was open. It was enough that we both commented when we saw the arrangement. Different, strange, practical, noticeable.
The Japanese cherry blossoms are not the only blossoms vying for attention in late March April. The problem in photographing is to get a quintessential image. I failed. But I got a representative image that is more indicative and offsets the glory of Washington’s blossoms. Weeping cherries were easy to find and spot walking DC. They just did not seem to draw the crowds.
It’s hard to love and photograph forsythia. They are brief but brilliant blooms in early spring. The individual flowers are not particularly photogenic compared to the whole bush. The rest of the year the bush is ignored. Forsythia tend to be planted in locations suitable to be ignored the rest of the year. Hence, they seem to have a secondary place of charm in spring.
You want crowded? I do not. No longer! I live in Delaware. It’s a sparse around here except for summer at the beach. Look up. Look down. Saturday. Cherry blossom time. Good weather. It’s great to be out and about in the nation’s capital. Yup, you’re gonna see crowds. It was my norm in New York City. I like it peaceful now.
An sign of early spring, the pansy comes in all colors. It’s a delightful photo op. no complaints. I find them plentiful and in full color. How can you resist? I don’t.
The tulips are an easy target. Spring! Focus! The stamens are the key. If you can get them in focus, the rest of the pattern of the spots will fall into place. Lately I shoot them in singles rather than opting for a pattern of color.
Commercial or picturesque? You can have whatever you like. I have seen the cherry blossoms twice now. Once was enough? One wonders? We did not hike all among the trees. But the crowds are large and never diminish. Year to year, the same photographers or different ones. Many many iPhones, more than any other device. But, there are cameras of all sizes and shapes. I carried two, plus our iPhone. Iphone was for uploading instantly. One camera did wide angle and the other did telephoto duty. I still think that the real glass in a camera is way better than that tiny iPhone lens. But I could be wrong. Commercial? Food trucks take advantage and indeed make lots of money catering to the crowds that come. I saw lines of people at each and every truck. Nice business if you can get a spot.
Conspiracy? The top of the monument on this bright sunny morning looked like a hood. Symbolism? There is no hate in this country….
Choose. There’s too much. One cannot really pick upon a single flower. A single tree? Or a tree with a national monument? Sensory overload? I have a tried and true image. Deep blue sky and a branch of buds. It never gets tired. Not great, just good. Not special. But unmistakable.
It started when I was about 5 years old. A girl visited us and declared she hated fish. She proceeded to eat fish despite her pronouncement. But I followed through and never ate/preferred fish again. Before that, I can remember eating the leg meat from blue crab when my mother painstakingly extracted the morsels as she picked…. Of course, the cousins picked a fish place because of the specials. I don’t drink either. That would be a root beer… No doubt, you already know (see yesterday!) that Colleen likes to eat out. I’m the cook, she doesn’t do the dishes often. Maybe she just likes eating out! She’s happy. That’s enough to make me smile.
Colleen likes to eat out. Wouldn’t you? No cooking. No dishes. Someone does all the work. And you reap the benefits! Besides, it’s fun to eat different. As I mentioned, I try to take a picture every day. Some days it’s restaurants and food. Ummmm… I like to eat out too. Too much can be bad for your diet. Diet? Eat out? Sometimes the temptation is too great!
I have a thing about ordering Thai curry puffs. They are no particular big deal. But, the restaurant in NYC never had them though they were on the menu. They were always out. It’s like being hungry when you were a kid. Later in life, you just can’t resist ordering them because you can. So, I do!
What do you do on a slow day? I write about my cats. I try to take a picture every day. Some days it’s cats. Presently I’m food obsessed. Writing about food would only make me hungry. Elle is now the smallest. She’s oldest too. It doesn’t stop Spice from picking on her. Elle holds her own. Spice goes in ‘timeout’ if I catch her whopping Elle. Détente! (I know what you’re thinking [Spice]. Don’t even think about it!)
Look online and it’s easy to find a ring guard. Of course, if you are a surgeon you adapt. In the garage if you don’t have a hammer, a screw driver will do. Don’t laugh – too hard. You know you’ve done it too. Our wedding rings were too large – about ½ size each. Imagine that? It’s just how it is. I lost mine within 24 hours after putting it on. Oh my!! Colleen found it. Lucky!! And so as not to repeat the mistake, I set out to find a low-tech solution. A rubber 0 ring. Works! Not stylish – at all. And for Colleen? No! No “O” ring. Tacky! Ok, one trip to the antique store, (oh no! $$$), but one ring, one try, fit, done. Yes, there was only one ring in that case… and for under $10. Everyone went away happy. Sometimes there is a bit of luck involved. Both rings are in place and safe.
Would you believe that Colleen and I both had a Gilbert Microscope set as kids? Ditomaceous earth, it was stuff they gave you that appeared iridescent under the microscope. Of course, I had a much better medical microscope years later. Unfortunately there is no glowing report or any story that this whetted my desire to become a physician. Colleen and I both exclaimed when we saw the set for sale. She had a great time looking at all manner of things. Somehow I knew this plastic thing was too juvenile for my eventual adult pursuits in medicine.
Here’s a shout out to the worst restaurant I’ve eaten in quite some time. Service – poor. The waiter couldn’t get us silverware…until eventually…. Food – made by underage kids. It could not have been a cook. Fried zucchini – they dumped batter over the pieces. And then fried the whole glop. Egg rolls – they didn’t even separate the frozen things before they deep fried them. They arrived as a lump of oily glop… on a bed of lettuce. I guess they did not think we would notice how horrible the food was. They thanked us for coming in. The table across the way – they never noticed – father and daughter were on the phone their whole meal long. Good way to miss the errors. No, no, there will be no second chance.