Tag Archives: Photography

Daily Diversion #27: Duncan 0, Ghost Crabs 1,987

Posted on by
4

I’m still toiling away at my Colossally Annoying Studio Clean-Out Project, Version 2012. I’m 90 percent there, aesthetically speaking. It took many dedicated hours to reach this point. A mental weight of approximately 999 pounds has been lifted! Unfortunately, the hard work is about to begin: sorting through the papers and notebooks hiding away in drawers and cabinets. Egads, do not get me started on this or I will shrink away in horror from the task. To right my mind, before dutifully getting back to my boring task, I am going to leave you with some cuddly puppy photographs as my Daily Diversion. It beats a progress photo of my studio any day.

Jennifer over at Quirk’n It made me think about crabs and, when I think about crabs, I think about my honeymoon. No, do not go there. We are discussing crustaceans here. Focus, people. This is a clean web-site (well, mostly). Enjoy these photos of my sweet dog, and wedding present, Duncan, trying his mightiest to catch a ghost crab (any ghost crab) on the beach in front of our honeymoon condo. He tried for a week, and came up empty after every effort.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

A Year in Books/Day 174: Blumenfeld Photographs

Posted on by
6
  • Title: Blumenfeld Photographs A Passion for Beauty
  • Author: William A. Ewing
  • Year Published: 1996 (Harry N. Abrams, Inc., Publishers)
  • Year Purchased: 2010
  • Source: My lovely Momma
  • About: Before reading this book, I could recognize some of the more iconic images of Berlin-born photographer Erwin Blumenfeld as his, but I knew nothing of his life. Although I place value on my own emotional responses to art, music and literature, and as a parallel it could certainly be argued that the end product is all the biography we need, I love back stories, perspective; I’m obsessively curious about context, facts, and individual versions of the creative process. Artistic pathways fascinate me. The 235 illustrations in this thick coffee table volume are, of course, extraordinary. From erotica to fashion to adverts, it is all here; the experimental nature of his work is stunningly apparent. All are sumptuous, provocative, memorable. The biggest revelation for me-and it really was a revelation, make no mistake-is the extensive text, which, in forming a serious and detailed biography, echoes back to my love of concrete information. This two-sided approach gives us a bigger picture (ha!) than either traditional biographies or coffee table retrospectives usually offer. The result is aesthetically pleasing and deeply satisfying.
  • Motivation: I love coffee table books and vintage photography.
  • Times Read: Once
  • Random Excerpt/Page 32: “It is more than likely that Blumenfeld’s mind had not been entirely focused on his work. Ever since his arrival in the Netherlands-indeed, since he had fallen in love with Lena just prior to the war-he had been making art, partly to communicate this passion, partly as a release from the mundane pressures of daily life, and partly as a means of expressing his outrage over the war and the bankrupt values which, in his view, had brought it about.”
  • Happiness Scale: 8 1/2

Daily Diversion #25: Birthday Excuses

Posted on by
4

I’ve been celebrating my birthday since Tuesday. Although I will continue to do so for the rest of July (hey, that’s normal! Right?), I plan on reining myself back in tomorrow and return to cleaning the studio and write a little. I estimate that this project still has a week to go. Feel for me, lovely readers. It is truly a daunting chore and, so far, I have hated every moment of the project. Every. Moment. I promise to post a few reviews tomorrow. Until then, enjoy this slideshow of some of my little birthday adventures.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

*All of these images were taken on my Blackberry, which had a swiftly dying battery. This means that I did not stop to compose scenes, I just snapped away while I could.

Daily Diversion #24: Birthday Wishes

Posted on by
4

“Give me silence, water, hope

Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.”-Pablo Neruda

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

“I don’t want to go on being a root in the dark,

vacillating, stretched out, shivering with sleep,

downward, in the soaked guts of the earth,

absorbing and thinking, eating each day.”-Pablo Neruda

 

Tornado Maedez

Posted on by
8

This. This is the reason for my fewer than normal posts. Once I have sorted through the mess, and am properly organized, things will not only be back to normal around here…they will be better. Guaranteed. Once the clutter has been vanquished, my mental processes will be freed up to focus on what I like (and do) best: write. No need to worry: until then, you can expect at least a post a day. I promise to miss you more than you miss me.

Tornado Maedez?

Tornado Maedez?

Seriously, this is so out of control (at least by my standards) that all of my writing projects are threatening to come to a full-on, nasty stop. Since I do this for a living, that is a pretty scary concept.

Daily Diversion #22: How Long Can I Resist?

Posted on by
4
"An early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day."-Henry David Thoreau

“An early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.”-Henry David Thoreau

I’m not an early riser, but I like the idea of taking a morning constitutional. Not a plain old walk, mind you: a constitutional. Yes, yes…I know it means the same thing. The latter, however, sounds vigorous and lovely and a bit old-fashioned. As if it takes work, thought, planning. A clear head. For the last few weeks, I’ve been threatening to get up early (for me) and drag my husband to the cemetery down the street. A four-minute drive for an hour’s hike. After sunrise, but before the work day has dawned. It is such a tempting idea, in my head. On paper. The reality will likely find me achy and whiny and yawning for the first half an hour. Yet, yet… the destination is the above scene: vibrant, bright, wild. Serene. All in the shadow of the city. How long can I resist?

Daily Diversion #20: Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad*/My Neighborhood is Weirder Than Yours

Posted on by
28

This pig has been keeping watch outside the main entrance of our building since Friday. This is totally normal, right? Right?

What is this, you ask?

What is this, you ask?

I recently wrote about one of my main concerns as a writer, which is feeling at home in my surroundings. I’ve struggled with this since moving to the Queen City six years ago. I love our flat, and our building; if the whole thing could be picked up and moved somewhere else, my contentment would shine forth like a lighthouse beacon. I know that I am guilty of focusing on what I wish I could change about our neighborhood, even as I am faced with all that there is to enjoy in this weird little corner of town. Mr. Enormous Pig has reminded me of some of the perks of living in the CW. They are:

  • Sharing a building with an unusual museum (thus, Mr. EP).

    Come closer.

    Come closer.

  • The best (and wackiest) mural of George Washington you will ever see.
  • The ability to get chili at 3:00 in the morning, and the simultaneous people watching opportunity.
  • A giant gorilla hanging off the side of a costume shop building.
  • People watching. Oh, the people watching.
  • The beautiful park across the street (visible from all of our windows), especially the dough boy statue that was dedicated just post-war.
  • The handsome architecture of this neighborhood is truly impressive, even if many of the buildings are derelict or down-right abandoned.
  • The city salt barn directly across the street. Not only is it an easy landmark for guests, it is absurdly fun to watch news crews swarm the premises at the slightest indication of snow. Also, it looks like a voluptuous breast. At least a C-cup.
  • I love being surrounded by manufacturing businesses and a sea of trees. This area is not very residential, but is intensely lush.
  • The minimum-security jail behind the park (also constantly on view from our windows). It sits on the site of an old workhouse, razed many decades ago. Only the stunning stone wall remains. A jail in the neighborhood means that the streets are very well patrolled. Even though some people think the CW is sketchy, it actually means that we have the lowest crime rate in the city.
  • Diversity, diversity, diversity.

Looking out our wall of windows, nine stretching full-height in a salute to the ceiling, I see colour and character; zest and life; dirt and beauty. It’s always interesting. A writer could do worse than to have so much at hand.

Don't look into his eyes, or you will turn to stone.

Don’t look into his eyes, or you will turn to stone.

Belly of the beast.

Belly of the beast.

*This is a quote from George Orwell’s Animal Farm.