“And the dead tree gives no shelter”
23; 02.10
“You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water“
21-24, I. The Burial of the Dead
It was clear that my Hanging Tree (a crape myrtle in my parents’ front yard) [...]
What the hell is wrong with you tonight?
I have a new favorite preset and it’s called Gimme all you got but not love. (Not only was I listening to Joe Jackson, but this preset pretty much sucks every drop of pixel out of your photo. Or my photo, as it were.) And because you’re reading my blog, I would like to offer [...]
Photowalk, again.
Like I said, while I hated these photos at first, a little PP goes a long way. Here are another set of twelve shots.
Pas si simple.
I like that I shot this all crooked. To be honest, I did try to fix it in Photoshop, but it looked silly. So tilted it will be.
And I feel [...]
“Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?”
72; 25.01.10, 16:12
“There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying ‘Stetson!
‘You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
‘That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
‘Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
‘Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?”
69-73, I. The Burial of the Dead
January was rainy and [...]
More from the Photowalk.
Yeah, I shot a lot. I thought they mostly sucked, but post-processing can do wonderful things.
A continuation of this post.
Stuck in the middle with you.
Those guys, they were not part of the photowalk. Not on purpose at least.
Glasses. (UTW Fixing a Hole)
Pyramid 2.0 (UTW Siamese Dream)
It’s actually Pyramid 2.0 and Language of the Birds 2.0, [...]
Caliber Photowalk 30.01.10
These are some shots from the January 30th Caliber Photowalk in North Beach and Chinatown.
I took more pictures than I expected, fewer than I ought to’ve, and they’re all pretty much crappier than I’d like. But they’ll do. Here are the first of many. If I used presets to process, they’re in the parentheses. And, [...]
“And fiddled whisper music on those strings”
378; 20.01.10, 17:03
“A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings”
377-80, V. What the Thunder Said
My father fiddles. It’s something he picked up a few years ago. The results are hit and miss, but we have a [...]
“Son of man, / You cannot say, or guess”
20-1; 14.01.10, 16:21 – alternate
“What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water.”
19-24, I. The [...]
“and I knew nothing / Looking into the heart of light, the silence”
40-1; 14.01.10, 16:23
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
38-41, I. The Burial of the Dead
When I don’t know where or what to shoot, I return to the scene of the crime – [...]
“Under the brown fog of a winter dawn”
61; 06.01.10, 7:00
“Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many”
60-63, I. The Burial of the Dead
The first work week of January began with a thick, pervasive, but ultimately photogenic fog. I ignored it Monday, became intrigued on Tuesday, and [...]
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