Blurry book text is one of those things I inexplicably love.

In photographs, not in real life.  Just to be clear.

(Source: guzellesbeolum)

Dear Mother Nature: I was fervently hoping you would make everything grey, and you delivered.  (I would have been even happier if you had done it without the rain and suddenly made all the branches bare, but I know I can’t have everything all at once.)  However, you lost all your cool points with the horribly humid mugginess that came afterward.  (I came home and threw a tantrum after that.  Not my finest moment.)

I’ve had enough of it being warm, I think.  That plus looking at some of my photos from last winter has made me wish we could just skip straight to that season.  Even though autumn is usually my favorite season.

—-

Phipps Conservatory, Pittsburgh
1 September 2014

  1. Camera: SONY NEX-3N
  2. Aperture: f/5.6
  3. Exposure: 1/800th
  4. Focal Length: 24mm
medievalpoc:

lrthreads submitted to medievalpoc:

So I’ve been looking through a bunch of my art books lately as part of a book downsizing effort.  I stumbled across this painting in one of them (Painters of Reality, which is online and searchable here) and thought it might be of interest to the readership here, because of the woman in the center.  I’m not sure if this is actually the right kind of thing for this blog, and sadly I am not able to offer any info other than that the artist is Giacomo Ceruti and that the painting is thought to be from the 1720s.


I might or might not have squeed when I saw that this submission was accepted.  (And that Ellen Kushner, whose books I like very much, liked it.  I’m terrible at acting like I’ve been there before, at least in my head.)
I exhausted my easily available resources (in English, freely searchable and/or on the visible Internet) and came up dry for any more detailed info.  Eventually, hypothetically, I should have more time to do a more extensive check, but that’s gonna take a while.  So if anyone beat me to that, I would be thrilled. medievalpoc:

lrthreads submitted to medievalpoc:

So I’ve been looking through a bunch of my art books lately as part of a book downsizing effort.  I stumbled across this painting in one of them (Painters of Reality, which is online and searchable here) and thought it might be of interest to the readership here, because of the woman in the center.  I’m not sure if this is actually the right kind of thing for this blog, and sadly I am not able to offer any info other than that the artist is Giacomo Ceruti and that the painting is thought to be from the 1720s.


I might or might not have squeed when I saw that this submission was accepted.  (And that Ellen Kushner, whose books I like very much, liked it.  I’m terrible at acting like I’ve been there before, at least in my head.)
I exhausted my easily available resources (in English, freely searchable and/or on the visible Internet) and came up dry for any more detailed info.  Eventually, hypothetically, I should have more time to do a more extensive check, but that’s gonna take a while.  So if anyone beat me to that, I would be thrilled.

medievalpoc:

lrthreads submitted to medievalpoc:

So I’ve been looking through a bunch of my art books lately as part of a book downsizing effort.  I stumbled across this painting in one of them (Painters of Reality, which is online and searchable here) and thought it might be of interest to the readership here, because of the woman in the center.  I’m not sure if this is actually the right kind of thing for this blog, and sadly I am not able to offer any info other than that the artist is Giacomo Ceruti and that the painting is thought to be from the 1720s.

I might or might not have squeed when I saw that this submission was accepted.  (And that Ellen Kushner, whose books I like very much, liked it.  I’m terrible at acting like I’ve been there before, at least in my head.)

I exhausted my easily available resources (in English, freely searchable and/or on the visible Internet) and came up dry for any more detailed info.  Eventually, hypothetically, I should have more time to do a more extensive check, but that’s gonna take a while.  So if anyone beat me to that, I would be thrilled.

Half the fun of going to estate sales is seeing other people’s questionable but relatable decorating choices.
Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh9 February 2014 Half the fun of going to estate sales is seeing other people’s questionable but relatable decorating choices.
Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh9 February 2014

Half the fun of going to estate sales is seeing other people’s questionable but relatable decorating choices.

Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh
9 February 2014

Oops, I missed that this week’s No Edit Friday has a theme and it is portraits. I don’t know if portraits of toys count so … second post!  Shadow selfies are one of my favorite ways to indulge my vanity.

  1. Camera: SONY NEX-3N
  2. Aperture: f/18
  3. Exposure: 1/30th
  4. Focal Length: 16mm

Yep, I’m a flower photographer.
Kinder Egg toy (unidentified yellow monster) in Queen Anne’s Lace
10 August 2014

  1. Camera: SONY NEX-3N
  2. Aperture: f/4.5
  3. Exposure: 1/160th
  4. Focal Length: 28mm

Being asked “Are you a flower photographer?” should not result in weird spinning artistic identity confusion.  But someone asked me that yesterday and … yeah.  (Not to stereotype but I think he was English.  Trace of accent plus he looked like a very nerdy young Burn Gorman.  Also (more stereotyping) my impression is that there is a large segment of the English population that is obsessed with gardens, so I feel like an English person would recognize the species.  If flower photographers are a species.)

Yeah, I like to photograph flowers, but I also like to photograph signs of urban decay and weaknesses in the social fabric and commercial processes in motion and interesting-looking humans and their interactions and proof that other humans like to do creative things.  I mean, I could keep going but you get the idea.

What fell out of my mouth instead (because I seriously doubted the laundry list was of interest) was “It’s a hobby.” 

"Does this memoir begin with daily ladlings of drinking water from the stationary tubs and wringer-topped washing machine in the basement because the St. Patrick’s Day flood in the mid-thirties forced the water company to shut down the pipes, creating ten days of no baths? Or does it begin when you walked to high school in the smog? You were barely able to perceive the ghosts of telephone poles as you hurried by them. The mute cars snailed along like vehicles under water, their probing headlights fusing into a single beam before them like eyesight. If you held your hand straight ahead of you in the dawn murk, you could just perceive the vague and flexing fingertips. You arrived at school with your nares filmed and fuzzed with smogsoot, and the white collar of your shirt was outlined with the same film and fuzz. Even though that Pittsburgh is forty years dead, it is still the same one you hear about from people who prefer to believe that Pittsburgh is what it was and not what it has remarkably become."
— Samuel Hazo, The Pittsburgh That Starts Within You (1986)
  • me: If wishing I lived closer to you so we could hang out and eat popcorn and watch fire burlesque girls is wrong, then I don't want to be right.