275/365: tuba keys
Instruments have a beauty and character all their own. Craftsmanship and design that make them beautiful objects even before they make a sound. When they are old, they bear the marks of so many notes, so many hands, so much beauty lost to the air. I can’t help but get caught up in the reverie of all that’s been and all that will be.
248/365: vintage camera
I am not a hater when it comes to digital photography. I credit the digital revolution with my own artistic career. Honestly, I never would have taken the time or the risks to discover my own vision with film; I wouldn’t have been able to afford it!
Digital photography gave me the freedom to explore and to fail. It was OK to take 200 photos – just to see what would happen – and then throw them away. It still is.
Nonetheless, I wax a little poetic when I see vintage cameras. There is a beauty to the object that makes me feel nostalgic, appreciative, and itchy – like I want to go buy some film and just see what happens.
244/365: vintage upside down
what. when. why. how. it’s all relative.
228/365: vintage fabrics
It’s shaping up to be a rather abstract week. Today’s it’s sensory: sunlight & golden, amber hues, scents of dust, time, and perfume and the desire to reach into the frame and finger every fold.
I will always love books. The very thing-ness of them. The design, the way they age, their heft.
I miss those college days when I had time to sit on the floor of the used book store, combing through art books or scanning for paperbacks. I consistently had an appetite for books – pictures, places, words, possibilities – that exceeded the hours in a day.
I dream that someday I’ll have time for books again. Time to open the cover and disappear into the world of the story. Time to read the most beautiful words twice.
P.S. How do you like the new blog design? I wish the pics were bigger, but otherwise I dig it.
picture of a picture. just because.
159/365: vintage portrait
It really all comes down to how you frame it. What you choose to include. To leave out.
It’s less important what it is. How do you see it?
We’re in a drought in Minneapolis so it’s uncool to complain about the rain. But it is a raw, gray stretch of a week here. Time for hot tea, good books, warm (dry) socks, and a stylin’ umbrella.
95/365: vintage umbrella
This is one of those pictures that I didn’t get at first. Then suddenly I felt its weight. There is a moment – the space of an unseen line – where freedom is still possible, however precarious, and the choices are right there in front of us. Branches? Or bars?
68/365: bird’s nest with branches & bars
This depiction of cupid really made me think. Is he asleep? Exhausted by his endless task of inflicting love on the masses? Or is he taking a moment to contemplate his career options? Maybe he always wanted to be an insurance salesman or a stand-up comic. In any case, he’s busy this time of year and, sometimes, no matter how much we love our jobs, we all need a little break.
42/365: cupid’s rest