Wednesday, March 25, 2009


Dedicated to Jimmy Page, who "dabbled a bit in the black arts," now didn't he? he couldn't have come up with "Stairway" on his own, could he?

Thursday, March 12, 2009

feet of bronze

One of my daughters saw this photo and said, "ewww!"

What's wrong with bronze feet? Or is that the kind of question that if you don't already know the answer then you should be ashamed of yourself?


So the folks out there who are voting on the poll don't seem too confident that folks are self-aware. Feel free (even if you didn't vote) to provide an example here in a "comment" section for what makes you believe that.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

reflections and non-reflections

This was a corner store with big windows. I aimed the camera to capture the street through both windows (at right angles). The image caught stuff in the store (the statues), reflections in the closest window, and images of the street through the other store window. Frankly, I can't quite figure it out by looking at it now. I think most of what you're looking at is the reflection. The "through the other window" stuff is directly above the statues. Dunno.

Then again, I'm tired and not especially sharp. And by "not especially sharp" I mean as sharp as a bowling ball.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

cigar shot collage

My first photo collage. I've layered before, but I've never done this. Toned it all brown for the "cigar-y" effect.

street angel

morning book and beer

cool posture, no? what caught my attention was how he was holding his smoke--somehow both natural and affection at the same time. (you may not have known i'm into hands.) i asked him whether i could take his picture, and he assented but automatically put his cigarette down. i had disturbed him enough and didn't have it in me to pester him to put it back to its last position. still, something about this guy says photogenic.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

love is the answer, and you know that for sure

I'm listening to "Mind Games," so let's talk about John Lennon for a minute.

Tuesday morning, December 9, 1980.

I was in 7th grade, and the weather had been cold cold cold. At the time I was wild for The Beatles, and still am. I was a sheltered kid and The Beatles were a new-found link to the adult world--their music was an avenue of exploration to new and nuanced emotions and thoughts that my parents let me pursue. My mom especially liked The Beatles and I'm pretty sure she got a kick out of the fact that I was enjoying them so much. In fact, I bought her a Beatles album for her birthday. I don't remember her ever listening to it, but I sure did; over and over and over I listened to it. My groovy new friends in Junior High loved The Beatles, and our familiarity with their music was a point of distinction (and superiority) for us when we compared ourselves to our unenlightened classmates. I liked all three of The Beatles (and Ringo), and I loved virtually all their songs. And still do. To this day, their songs are the only ones in the universe that I can remember the lyrics to. They tapped into my brain deeply and profoundly. Of them all, John Lennon was my favorite song-writer. McCartney could craft a gorgeous melody, and I loved him, yes, but Lennon provided the energy and brains to the group. He made them more than a rock group; he made them art.

My mom came into my bedroom on that December morning, the bright hall light making me squint. I was snug in my bed, and I wondered why she came in a little before my radio alarm went off. My first thought was--yes!--it must have snowed over night and we were going to have a snow day.

Mom sat down on my bed and said, "Mikey honey, I have some sad news." Pause. "John Lennon was shot yesterday and died."

A link to the adult world indeed.

swoopy curl

Oh you have no idea how lucky I am to be so simple--to have such simple tastes and to be so easily amused! Curves and shiny objects and shadows bring me such unspeakable pleasure.

If you could somehow give a six month old the ability to take shots of what he or she liked to look at, you'd basically end up with something looking like my blog.

So I got that going for me.

Just look at that curl! Look at it. It's just....perfect.

And sad, too. So very sad. So very very sad. Okay, not so very very sad. Just sad.


(Okay, very very)

it's not my fault....

there's a lot of creepy out there. i'm just a reporter of reality.

okay, i'm nothing like that. but there are lots of creepy things out there.

The Prophet....

crystal skeleton eyeball socket

A photo and its caption don't lie.

exit music

I love this. So beautiful. So violent. So calming.

The originl shot: a metal door with lots of grafitti in NOLA. I flipped the image and heightened the red.

I'm happy with this photo.