I love stories and think it's important that there be beauty in the world.
Every once in a while some seriousness creeps in, but this is mostly overflow from my fevered fannish brain, geeking out about Pittsburgh, making stuff up about its counterpart Pitetsbkrrh, and posting my photos (often backlit), with a side of squeeing about things that make me happy or amused.
I feel strongly that if you blog something that's not your own creation, you should identify the person who made it. In that spirit, my icon is from here.
Blurry book text is one of those things I inexplicably love.
In photographs, not in real life. Just to be clear.
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
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, 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.
Yep, I’m a flower photographer.
Kinder Egg toy (unidentified yellow monster) in Queen Anne’s Lace
10 August 2014
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.”