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Please forgive me for revisiting this saga so soon. For the thoughts of that witnessed moment in time which planted a seed for a story, still remains, still ticklingly entices my imagination..
And I think most of us know what a bugger an inkling like that can be...!
And the Chatwick in me had a yearning, actually no, a compelling, need to appease, so to tell the same story in a bit different take on the observed actions of the young lad I called the Hugger Mugger… had to be forthcoming post haste …
And So we Have.....
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The Importance of paper mache Princesses
Lucidity of Providence
I first noticed the lass whom I came to call the paper mache princess, as she slithered and swished about in the quite devastatingly pretty gown she was so winningly wearing along her youthful, but yet well appointed figure.
The gown was dyed the shade of fresh spring lavender, the satiny material, probably soft as a new borne downy chick, freshly shimmering and glistening as she stunningly exhibited it whilst wriggled in from the serving room.
My fancy was tickled by this, for my Sister had once worn a very similar dress , and I carried quite pleasant memories of the fun we had had shared that particular evening…..
But I only noticed this new lass’s apparel briefly though, for once I had her properly in my sights, her adorning jewels(rhinestone?) totally commanded my full and undivided attention.
For, see in my humbled opinion, it was silly for one so obviously saturnine, so quite gullibly young, to be wearing such shimmering sparklers! Though to truthfully admit, I had no real issues along those lines!
The sparkling jewels consisted of a thin silver plated necklace, matching dangling earrings and a thin bracelet worn around her satin gloved clad wrist.. , all were set with the fiery brilliance of (rhinestone?) diamonds.
Twas a pity someone darkly moody like that would be in possession of jewels so pretty.. She obviously had no inkling or care about em, in my observation of her, she probably could care less that she was wearing them, and probably had whined miserably about putting them on!
A hallowed mockery of all that is truly feminine.
An aloof paper mache princess who deserved to look more of a pauper in me own personal opinion...!
And that thought, I found to be quite enticingly entertaining on a personal level! Admittedly though, at that time, I was finding a great deal of my surroundings to being quite vexing.
But there was also a reason for my interests, for I will have to admit to possessing a bit of a rascally bird like, Magpie keen, interest in all things shiny!
And my curiosities had already been at peek height due to several other observations I had made upon my first arrival at the wedding reception: Including one subject in particular!
First off, the wedding was definitely upscale, and the wealthy Bride had chosen a rather unique venue for her reception.
Located in a rather daringly wrong side of the tracks area. The place was the site of an old brick, eel tinning factory that someone had cunningly restored and was princely offering as a uniquely posh reception venue for those rich enough to pay out the nose for something out of the ordinary. To me it looked like someone had extravagantly decorated up an old slummy red brick alleyway.
And as to why I was there..?
Well my friends, that’d be another whole tale in the tellin....
So, only tellin one tale at a time then......
Anyhows, there I was, dressed up in my best, and starting to do a bit of visually opportunistic prowling about amongst the well heeled guests who were making merry in the venues’ rather dubious surroundings…. When I saw him...
Him, the laddie, a young male of about 13, scampering happily about at the reception hall .
Something about his mannerisms drew my mind to him, so I discreetly asked around.
I soon found out he was the son of a single mother, both the bride’s sister and maid of Honour. So he was pretty much being left to himself, which explained things a bit.
The lad was also obviously across the threshold of young puberty: as was witnessed by some of his antics, not only with the touchy teasing of the younger girls present, but also in the way he was treating certain poshly dressed adult females, especially in sneaking up and giving his darling grandmother hugs from behind.
She though, thought it was cute and just laughed, and squealed happily, “look another drive by hugging”, or “thanks for the warm hugging honey, just lovely”, encouraging to no end the youth to keep his voyeuristic advances up.
But the grandmother was a short lady, his size, and I knew what was going on, even if the silly twit didn’t have a bloody clue.
The Lads arms, as he hugged his grandmother’s warm figure before running off, were brushing just under her perk breasts, molded nicely by the tight fitted mother of the bride gown she was attired in.
I also knew that , along with copping a titillating feel, he was also enjoying the tingling sensation from the slick thicke material of the lengthy, swishing gown the rather youngish ,stylish grandmother was wearing…
I watched, the lad as he performed this trick several times, holding onto the warm sweaty figure of his still perky, grandmother, before I would finally admit to the fact, I was jealous!
Jealous, for she was wearing some rather pretty jewelry of diamonds, real ones too judging by the fiery pinpricks of flashes they was giving off. Grandad must have spent a bloody mint on them.. For an Anniversary or an apology? There laid the rub..
And I would have given anything for a closer gawk at the ladies finer points, if one gets my drift, eh ?
Nudge, nudge... as they say...
It was while watching the lad yet again going and performing his hugger mugger routine from a bar stool, that my I first laid my eyes on the young paper mache princess in the lavender gown and wearing her own set of diamonds( rhinestone?). I don’t know when she had entered the reception’s proverbial stage, but she was one of the last lot to be leaving the room where the food service was laid out.
She was all of 16 years old, probably bitter sweet, and most definitely, caustically, immature!
She was with a second girl, 14 years I would guess, possibly a younger sister, clad in a thin dress of red silk that poured out dancingly below a matching jacket of velvet. She was wearing a glistening set of, faux?, pearls, and a (rhinestone?) brooch on her jacket, the bauble shaped like a colourful humming bird set with coloured gemstones.
They both stopped at the doorway, watching the dance floor with a peaking interest .
The live band had started up, and a group was upon the floor, swishing and swirling about in a quite pretty display of both colour and glitter that was being caught up in the dim incandescent lighting of the olde re-imagined factory.
I allowed my interest to follow this action for a bit, before curiously allowing my eyes to again seek out the pair of lasses.. Sneaking in close by the bar for a better, keener look over as I did so.
When I found them I saw that they had been joined by the huggy strap of a lad. He was standing close to them, and I caught him gingerly sliding his hand up behind the paper mache princess , chubby fingers tentatively rubbing along the waistline of the slick lavender gown being worn so winningly by the vixen of a sixteen year old.
She giggled and turned to him, her eyes giving an “oh, its you” look to the lad. Oblivious to the look, he started talking the pair up, and I saw them both shake their heads no at whatever he must have been suggesting.
Both girls petite earrings’ swaying in the light as their heads moved side to side . The Paper Mache Princess’s inset diamonds of her earrings sparkling madly, while her smaller friends bobbling earrings of Faux pearl gleamed a glistening pure white.
The pair turned dismissively back to the dance floor, and he stared them down from behind their glimmery sleek dresses for a few seconds, before he walked away, head bent down like something of an admonished puppy!
I felt sorry for the young git, red faced, as he was walking away,.
Then I suddenly realized that his course was taking him right past me.
Not sure why at the time, but suddenly I wanted to capture this lad’s attention. For I was Bored and feeling peevishly mused to try and do something to quell those copious desires I had been mulling..!
So I played it by ear... Something which in my profession that I tend to do a lot of!
Now, since, sleight of hand and misdirection are a couple of me talents, I reached into my pocket , thoughtfully fingering one of my ever-present coins of the realm.
As the lad , sad head down, sauntered droopily by me, I caught his attention by dropping a penny.
He obligingly retrieved it for me, and as he handed it back, I turned down my wrist, then took my hand to his ear, appearing to change the penny into a twenty pee piece… Which I handed the coin to the amazed lad for keeps. Thereby also gaining his full and undivided attention.
“Want to see another?” I asked, and he shook his head yes eagerly. I pulled out an also ever-present deck of cards, and had him ruffle them up a bit. Talking it up to him as I did.
The simple card trick would allow me to banter and hopefully my words would thus stoke the id of his sexually driven impulses whilst the ego thoughts in the lad’s head where following the cards. With my intents to flaring up the lad’s super – located in the deep recesses of his mind were certain male thoughts are often guiltily , forcibly, kept alone to themselves.
The first trick was an easy one that had him picking his own card from a group laid out on the bar. It was as I went through the motions, and watching his focus on the cards, I mentioned how pretty I had thought some of the dresses worn by the girls here were.
That opened him up royally...
I soon had him chatting away, eating out of my hand as I told him a subtly suggestive story of my youth, centering around the true enough episode where I had danced with my sister who had been wearing a dress very similar to the one worn by the paper mache princess....
A tid bit of a description that I knew would send his little pubescent desiring mind whirling .
I then, also with casual finesse, asked him quite a few questions about himself, about the reception, and particularly centered around finding out a bit more about the paper mache princess.
He readily came out with the fact that the paper mache princess, the one I had truthfully said was dressed like me sister had been , was nothing more than his cousin. He also volunteered tid bits about her that led me to believe that she could be a bit fey, but liked to pretend and daydream.
He also chimed in that he liked to play games like hide an seek with her and her friend’s, when she allowed him to!
Not playing now I asked? Seeing a light opening up at the end of a certain tunnel of my thoughts.
No he said, she said that she did not want to get dirty, her friend either.. Too interested in acting like proper ladies, dancing and watching, he added sadly..
“Quite boring.. he also added quite drearily ..”
That was all I needed to hear! So, agreeing with the boring part, I drew him close in the confidence of a co-conspirator.
Tells you what kiddo, let me explain how we used to play tag games when I was your cousins age.
I bet she will change her mind to play this version with you today! ( Actually, I know she would have no choice but to play his game once we were done with her!)
Really, he said, his eyes wandering and latching onto the two swaying young vixens, looking them up and down as I spoke.
Certainty ‘Mon garçon’ I said, and began to explain, taking certain inventive liberties with the details to ensure capturing this young man’s burgeoning lusting fantasies !!
I explained that as lads we would play tag by having the crooks steal something, then the person who was robbed would chase us like a copper until we either got away, or placed in “prison”
Cops and robbers see.. ever hear of the game.?
He nodded his head assuredly that of course he knew the game..!
I could also see I had grasped a craving interest within him, so I then happily continued on
“Now, the girls in our group would sometimes dress up and wear ‘cheap’ play jewelry, like your cousin and her friend over there. “ I lied convincingly.
He turned to watch the pair of proper appearing princess wanna-bees, both with eye appealing resplendence in their gowns, jewels and fine frills..
“Then us boys would sneak up and try to distract them, so we could teasingly come away with some of their play jewels without them catching on to what we were on about.
Then we would point out their loss after a bit, and the girls would give chase to us trying get them jewels back !”
He smiles, liking the idea.
I could see he was chewing on my words while still Drooling over the two pretty young lasses and their shiny frocks and ample shimmering jewels.... rather convenient having the real thing in sight when telling my stories I devilishly thought.
I had captivated his interest, and could see that he was earnestly watching his cousin ( whose necklace I should mention, was quite invigoratingly rippling small sparkles of fire around her throat as she was swaying to the music.)
I began with renewed relish, allowing the seed I had planted to grow, by explaining in detail how to draw his pretty lass of a cousin into the “Game”!
Both his and mine!
Using as an example, a story on how I had played this same game I was proposing on, while dancing with me own lavender gown wearing sister for reference. Actually it was a true enough story, only the young lass I had played it out on had not been me sister, and the gown, which most definitely had been soft as a new borne downy chick, had been of a shiny ripe peach colour!
I explained in simple detail how to approach his cousin, and what words would work best in convincing her that a dance was in order.
Then once they were into the dance, I explained in easy detail, the next steps to be taken to ensure his cousin would be a player for the next phase of the game, namely the catchy, touchy, tag part of it.
I could see the laddie was doing quite well, grasping the rudimentary idea of it all. And as he shook his head vigorously yes when I asked if ready. I gently pushed his back, propelling his quite noticeably Horney figure loose towards his innocent victim.
Go get em tiger....
I watched with growing anticipation as the lad moved in, eagerly approached his victim, then again sliding a hand on along her waist, successfully prying and fully capturing his cousins attention away from the dance floor. He started talking affably and I could see her dart a look back to the dancers,then to her 14 year old friend, then finally back to her cousin. Her jewels nicely sparkling in the low lights as she carried out this performance.
Then, bless the faux pearl laden pixie, for as I watched, the paper mache princess’s young friend most advantageously helped out our cause. Chirpily chiming in her two cents worth. saying something excitedly as she tugged at the cousins dress whilst pointing to the lad and the dance floor!
And ‘Bob’s your uncle!’ a few minutes later the pair of them were on that polished wooden dance floor, looking exceptionally cute as a couple, as they danced to a romantic slow tune whose name has since slipped my mind. The young darlings mimicked the adults around them by embracing closely against one another.
I waited and watched with baited breath, so many things could go wrong, and there was no good reason they shouldn’t. I began to think my ideas had been quite folly. Draining my drink, I made my plans for a quick get away to avoid any attention and have to answer rather awkward questions if things went awry.
But they didn’t!
As he had been directed, he bided his time, no hurry.
I watched with baited breath as finally his hand cunningly started the process of snaking up along the back of her sensuous dress, a bit quick perhaps, but maybe his partner was feeling his hormones actively running wild and was responding in kind.
For she had no issues dancing close, and no notice of the shenanigans of the creeping male fingers nimbly reaching up her back. I could see that her own gloved hands were firmly grasping her dance partners waist. The diamonds on her thin bracelet merrily winking back at me!
She seemed so happy, her eyes closed shut as she was into what ever fantasies young sixteen year old paper mache princesses, wearing pretty gowns and flashy jewels, have going on!
But I was also fairly certain that those fantasies of hers did not dwell any where’s near the reality of what was being played out on her in real life at that moment!
I looked around, Nor were any of the adults paying the pair any heed..
Even the Sixteen year old’s young Faux pearl wearing pixie of a friend was watching something away from the dance floor, her own fingers idly playing with the shimmery rhinestone brooch on her velvet jacket as she, with no shyness, was ogling a bloke in a tux snogging with one of the bridesmaids in a secluded corner!
I perked up, setting my empty glass down, casually picking out a handful of pub nuts from a jar at my elbow, I thought, this trick may actually bloody work!!
His fingers finally reached the victim’s primed objective, the one I had suggested, namely the thin gem studded necklace. The pretty jewels that laid flickering around the high, glossy neckline of his victims gown. That fiery necklace had been dangling and moving about with an easy sliding fluidity along down the smooth satin of its’ wearers gown, making it a fairly easy pluck for any amateur’s game!
The gem stones were set in a finely woven silvery chain, there should be no telltale snagging, no matter how jerky the chubby fingers were in making the attempt the lift them!
Obviously I had been thinking this through as I had been carefully watching my pretty paper mache princess. And just as obviously I was now vicariously living those day dreams through the lads antics!
So it was with an unabashed delight, that I watched as his fingers glided along the pretty baubles chain till the necklaces hook in eye clasp was located, and pulled up ever so lightly!
He did fumble a bit with the clasp,( his first time after all) but I saw him carefully peeking over her shoulder for a better look, and using one hand he managed to delicately unhook the two ends on his second attempt.
The fraternal twin ends lay loose there, glimmering for a few seconds, as they hung freely unclasped down her back. His fingers slipped back over her shoulder and slyly lifted a sparkly end up.
He then methodically began to slide the long necklace up along the front of his dance partners rich, lubricious, satin gown! It was easily slipped away, slither inly over her shoulders’ satin sleeve and free fell down behind her back where it dangled for a few precious seconds in his chubby fingers, before the lad secreted the shimmering thing of beauty into his pocket ..
I released my breath not realizing I had been holding it.. He had gotten away with it, pretty as one pleases. His fantasizing, gorgeously dressed cousin, hadn’t a bloody clue as to what had just transpired as she and her glittery necklace were naughtily being parted!
And just as important, no one else had noticed my little hugger mugger in action either!
His victim still had her eyes blissfully closed, and was leaning her head back in what can be best described as dreamy happiness.
Her earrings and bracelet sparkled on, as noticeable in their positions, as the place her necklace had been, now was not!
Her male partners eyes were wide, and darting around. I was worried that he may end up alarming the girl, so I rose, and managed to catch his gaze, and smiled giving a thumbs up. This made him grin, and settling down a bit, grasped his partner close and twirled on.
I smiled, feeling rather excited meself, for watching the lad in action had been like reliving the somewhat similar, long past, incident that I had used as an example, lying to him that I had played the game on me sister!
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Well , they finally finished the dance, it seemed like an eternity, but it was thrilling to try and catch glimpses of the cousins’ now bare neckline!
Finally they broke apart and he walked off with her to the opposite edge of the dance area from where they had started. I held my breath again, but he seemed to inherently realize that as part of the game, he didn’t want her suspicions raised by being quick to leave. God bless his natural budding adult male like deviousness!
When he finally left her and came over , he was grinning ear to ear like some Cheshire Cat.
“Well done lad, you played that brilliantly! Fun Like I said it would be” I praised and questioned?
He nodded , quite pleased with himself, and that pleasure was evident in more places than just his face!!
He most definitely was getting a “titillating feel” for the playing the game. A feeling I could very well understand from me own personal experiences!
I turned him around to face his cousin, his back now to me.
The young paper mache princess was back to aloofly standing, watching, on the outer rim of the dance floor. As we watched, we saw her young friend returning, regaining a position up alongside her
I gripped my hand upon the lads shoulder, speaking into his ear as he conveniently faced away from me..
I explained that he needed to go up and do next ..
Sneak up and hug his cousin from behind( I could tell he liked that!) , then as you tickle her a bit, say something like “now catch the tickle thief” , and then, see that door just off the loo?
He turned his head over to where I was pointing.
I knew that the door was an exit, leading upstairs, then outside to a small park.
“Break away before she can catch you,, and RUN! through that door, then out into the park .”
I turned him back around to face me , I wanted to really drive home the last bit…
I was smiling mischievously in his eyes, which brightened up as he warmed up to the ideas I was planting.
“Then in the woods you can hide and touch tag as she tries to get her necklace back!”, and I tapped his pocket with my free hand, jingling the contents.
“But remember laddie, the trick is not to show her what you took. Make her chase you, and if she finally catches you, make her search you for it, or have her cry Uncle before handing it over!”
“And as she is so occupied, try for an earring or bracelet to keep the game on. Or if her friends is close enough then snatch…..”
But I stopped, I could see all too well in his wide eyed glazed over look, that he had caught onto the gigs gist, and there was no need to say more with out risking my hugger mugger to become too prematurely excited before playing it out.
I looked up over his head to make sure the stage was still set…
I suddenly stiffened....
Ere now, look lad, I think your game is beginning, she is noticing the loss.
We both looked, the young friend of the sixteen-year-old was pointing to the paper mache princess’s bare throat. No need to hear the question.
Then as We both gawked ,the cousins gloved hand shot immediately up to her throat ,fruitlessly feeling around as her face contorted up in a horrifying gasp.
“Now lad I said turning him back around so he was facing the dance floor., quickly toddle up behind and give your cousin that hug to start it off! That’s a good lad!”
“I guarantee you she is going to play into your game now.” I said, sending the words off after him as he scurried stiffly off.
He was definitely carrying off with him a quite “hard” vested interest in the game at hand.
He approached the pair, both of whom were now looking about their feet for the missing necklace.
I saw him readily grasp, then pull up his Cousin into a slippery hug..
She jumped a bit ,alarmed!
But no blaming the sullen looking lass. Worries about her missing necklace combined with someone unexpectantly grasping her from behind, then feeling something hard being pressed up against her, would cause a bit of inherent distress for any poshly attired damsel!
Startled as she was, she stood stiffly in her fast waning shock, as her male cousin whispered into a bejeweled ear, then letting her go, the lad dashed off towards the exit as planned.
The two girls looked at each other questioningly, the pixy was holding her faux pearled necklace, the cousin a hand to her bare throat. They then stared at the fleeing cousin, before, in a shimmering, swishing, fluttering, flurry, taking off after the escaping lad.
I turned away and watched as he disappeared through the exit door by the loo.
The female cousin and her similarity dressed young friend, were following almost upon the lad’s heels, gowns whirling , and they too slipped through the closing door. I, probably for the last time, admired her taunting bracelet, as it flashed and sparkled, while she gripped to hold open the closing exit door..
All three had now disappeared from the venue without anyone a noticing.
I believe free booze, and the length of drinking time that the adult guests had been imbibing played a rather big part in that the trio of escapees were not paid any heed!
Babes in the woods, going beyond the security of the pale. I thought, making my way through the thronging crowd of merry guests .
I headed out towards the main exit located on the opposite side of the building from the restrooms.
Just before taking my permanent leave I looked around the venue again. The dim lighted red brick lined walls of the old ell tinning factory did indeed resemble an olde alleyway. And one can just imagine the types of mischief that would be going on in olde alleyways!
Reaching the outer walk I forced meslf to meander on till I had safely gained some distance, stopping as I came up to a patch of woods.
Where, next to an ancient Wytch Elm tree with its grotesquely reaching branches, started a thin path leading off amongst the trees towards the other side of the olde eel tinning factories building..
I stood there, and after checking around me, Pulled a chrome flask from a vest pocket.
I took a good long swig of ginger brandy in celebration of the moment!
“The path less travelled today mate! .”
Replacing the flask, I reached a hand in my suit coats pocket for me pipe and tobacco, .
Feeling as I did the now cold hardness of the quite genuine, quite expensive, diamond necklace that I had so quite easily lifted from the youths jacket pocket ( pickpocketing - another of my skills)
As I packed my pipe and then cupped my fingers as I struck a match to get it going, I allowed my mind a quick remembrance….
I played out how pretty that young lass had been in her peach satin gown. We both had been around 14 years, socially awkward as youths that age can be.. She had suggested the dancing, and I was amazed at the feel of her in my arms. Never had I felt anything so warm, so incredibly soft. And how sparkling her necklace had been. As we danced, and as I secretly admired her necklace, I remember meself subtly lifting the pretty thing up from her throat. Then it had suddenly unclasped, and I found meself pulling it off from around her throat and stuffing it in a pocket. She had had no clue, and I and me mates had used it’s loss to tease her before giving it back.
It had been a most satisfying newly acquired feeling for me at that age.... Which I had gambled would be the same feelings my young hugger mugger lad would also feel.
With a wry smile I wondered what my hugger mugger lad’s reaction would be as he would finally was made to give back the necklace. And what the overall reaction of the group would be when instead of the paper mache princess’s pricey diamonds in his pocket, he finds the small bits of pub nuts I had switched out with the necklace.
What I would have given to be able to witness that moment in time I thought , as I threw away the match and began puffing smoke from the lit pipe. I imagined what the three youths puzzled, gasping expressions would be like..!
Indeed, whose game had they been playing at?
I wondered if anybody would ever figure it out, or would it remain a mystery?
After a few puffs I looked in the direction of the park.. where I imagined the three were have gleeful adventures, for a bit anyways., and hopefully no further mis adventures...
I gave another long , thoughtful pull at me pipe...
Now, Just down that path would be that very park where at that very moment, a young lady clad in sleek lavender satin and sporting the remains of her dazzling collection of expensively brite sparkling diamonds ,was running about willy nilly in the woods.
Her eye catching gown and glistening, baiting jewels unsuspectingly openly exposed to the wilds outside, and fully unprotected by any observable means...
Not to mention there is also a spare, herself fetchingly attired in red silk and velvet. Herself wearing spiffen faux pearls and a glistening rhinestone hummingbird brooch!
It could very well be like taking away the proverbial candy from silken clad Babes...
Hmmm, a rather treasure trove of an opportunity indeed!
After a few minutes ponderings, I finally Let out an exasperated puff of smoke, as I regrettably shook my head NO..., no teasing my recently bestowed acte of providence, not by this Bloke.... and certainly not this evening !!
One in hand, I scolded meself ..
So, let it be Cheerio, I thought nodding down the side path of the woods towards the park in a solemn’ fare thee well’ salute..
And walking out into the glooming twilight of the evening, strode down the side walk to disappear into the misty aire..
Taking the smoking pipe from me mouth, I began Whistling the tune ...
‘Who put “Bella in the Wytch Elm”?
After all, who does not like coming up across a mystery?
“vade ad victor spolia”
Fini
This was taken on Sullivan Street, somewhere south of Houston.
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
Not uploaded anything for short while as been working on a video. I only got into this photography marlarkey through video production after buying a Canon 7d , as a lot of indie film makers did / do. Not done anything like this for a while so thought I would jump straight in at the deep end with this rather labour intensive effort. Good practice and discovered some new techniques stay tuned for the finished thing shot at Denbigh Asylum this is a screen grab from the video in production.
I've not posted anything lately because I haven't been able to make up my mind on what to post. Ever feel that way? To narrow the selection, I decided to select something from the last day or two.
I chose this pretty B&W Warbler that I found yesterday. It was especially nice to capture it in this pose. These bug hunters are usually spotted in a vertical position as they poke within the crevices of trees to find insects.
I appreciate your views very much. Thank you and have a terrific week ahead!
Copyright - Nancy Clark - All Rights Reserved
Member of the Flickr Bird Brigade
Activists for birds and wildlife
Happy Birthday Zoey as she relaxes in the sun,her favorite pastime.She doesn't need a cake or celebration because she gets pretty much anything she wants.
If you're anything like me when you learn a new post processing technique you want to use it...on anything. Even if it isn't really appropriate for a particular shot you may be working on at the time.
I'm sure when I first started getting into post processing I wrecked many a good photo in this way. Thank god I've started developing a bit of an instinct as to when something is working and when it isn't.
If i hadn't this photo from inside the Tomb of the Austrian Royal Family (Kaisergruft) could have been another victim. One of the benefits of starting to accumulate a minute bit of experience in photography I guess.
Cheers, Chris
Apologies, not uploaded anything for a few days due to illness, but kind of back with an edited image from last week.
Previous set of Pripyat here www.flickr.com/photos/timster1973/sets/72157643944616235/
Named for the nearby Pripyat River, Pripyat was founded on 4 February 1970, the ninth nuclear city in the Soviet Union, for the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. It was officially proclaimed a city in 1979, and had grown to a population of 49,360 before being evacuated a few days after the 26 April 1986 Chernobyl disaster.
Though Pripyat is located within the administrative district of Ivankiv Raion, the abandoned city now has a special status within the larger Kiev Oblast (province), being administered directly from Kiev. Pripyat is also supervised by Ukraine's Ministry of Emergencies, which manages activities for the entire Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.
Access to Pripyat, unlike cities of military importance, was not restricted before the disaster as nuclear power stations were seen by the Soviet Union as safer than other types of power plants. Nuclear power stations were presented as being an achievement of Soviet engineering, where nuclear power was harnessed for peaceful projects. The slogan "peaceful atom" (Russian: mirnyj atom) was popular during those times. The original plan had been to build the plant only 25 km (16 mi) from Kiev, but the Ukrainian Academy of Sciences, among other bodies, expressed concern about it being too close to the city. As a result, the power station and Pripyat were built at their current locations, about 100 km (62 mi) from Kiev. After the disaster the city of Pripyat was evacuated in two days.
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Visitors taken aback by the realities of gas warfare as soberly presented by the Imperial War Museum. As with other parts of the museum, the presentation is commendably objective in what it displays.
However, for whatever reason, many of the darker realities of British military history are not mentioned either here or elsewhere. Although I can't be sure whether I might have missed anything, I didn't notice any mention of the following
1) Almost two years after end of the First World War, and despite knowing its horrific effects, Churchill supported the use of poison gas against rebels fighting for freedom in Mesopotamia and elsewhere across the British Empire
On 18 June 1920, as Secretary of State for War, Churchill circulated to Cabinet ministers the comments of the chief of the imperial general staff, Field Marshal Sir Henry Wilson. The Field Marshal hated any interference in military matters by mistrustful politicians he derided as ‘Frocks’ and he had been incensed on learning of a memorandum submitted to ministers a few days earlier, cautioning against the use of poison gas and written by the president of the board of education, Herbert Fisher.
Six weeks earlier, Wilson had presented a proposal to the Cabinet, supported by Churchill, that Britain should continue to use gas as a weapon so it could ensure a technological edge over "recalcitrant tribes" across the Empire. Fisher now warned that its use would be expensive, politically counter-productive to winning over hearts and minds and unethical when ‘used against an uncivilised enemy possessing little or no medical equipment.’
Churchill was not prepared to allow such sentimental idealism go unanswered. Nor was Wilson. He dismissed Fisher’s skepticism, countering that poison gas was in fact an economical method of counterinsurgency ‘with at least two or three times the casualty producing power of ordinary shell,’ that it was a grave mistake to make chivalrous considerations towards enemies, who ‘before killing our wounded perpetrate such horrors as it is unnecessary to dwell on here’ and reminded ministers that his opinions were shared by the General Staff, who considered the use of poison gas as ‘necessary to safeguard, as far as is humanly possible, the safety of the Empire.’
2) The British used poison gas against the Turks during the First World War even though the Turks themselves had never resorted to such barbaric measures.
On 19 January 1917, the War Cabinet considered the request of General Sir Archibald Murray, commanding the British expeditionary force in Egypt, to be able to deploy poison gas against Turkish troops. Until then, it had been accepted that poison gas would not be used in the campaign unless the Turks used it first. However, according to the Cabinet minutes, ministers had ‘no hesitation’ in approving Murray’s request, despite the Turks not having resorted to first use. The Cabinet concluded that it was unnecessary to spare Turkish troops from chemical warfare because of Turkish ‘atrocities perpetrated on subject races’ and ‘their maltreatment of Allied prisoners.’
3) During the First World War, the British press was euphoric about the deadly effects of gas.
On 26 September 1918, the British army began an offensive to break through the German ‘Hindenburg line’ in France, by firing 10,000 mustard gas shells at the enemy trenches. Another 22,000 gas shells exploded among the German lines over the next three days. Mustard gas was the most feared of the poison gasses deployed on the Western front, resulting in agonising injuries and death.
The British press was jubilant at the news. The London Daily News reported that ‘one reason for the large strides at the front is that we are using a mustard gas which shifts the Hun,’ after ‘the Hun soaked our front with mustard gas and caused our gallant men unspeakable torture.’ It added gleefully that following ‘a year of experiment, the Ministry of Munitions has produced a mustard gas, that permeates the enemy’s gas masks, clothes and boots. This gas is delivered to the Boche in shell form, and he is getting it in handsome quantities.’ The Western Morning News was equally euphoric, reporting under the headline ‘”Medicine” for the Huns,’ that ‘this mustard gas penetrates the gas masks and the clothes of the Boche; nothing will keep it out,’ explaining that the ‘shortage of rubber has prevented the enemy getting the best protective devices,’ and adding triumphantly that ‘this is not the only surprise the Allies have up their sleeves.’
4) Less than a year before the end of the Second World War, and when complete victory over Nazi Germany was already clearly in sight, Churchill urged that German cities and towns be drenched in poison gas during massive bombing raids. Had the Chiefs of Staff conceded to his request, it's likely that thousands of innocent civilians would have suffered an agonising death.
Writing a memo to General Sir Hastings Ismay on 6 July 1944, Winston Churchill urged the Chiefs of Staff to urgently consider the use of poison gas against German towns and cities. The memo came one month after British and American soldiers had landed in France and as Germany clearly faced imminent defeat, with the rapid retreat of its forces on all fronts.
Churchill asked the Chiefs of Staff to consider ‘very seriously’ a plan ‘to drench Germany with poison gas,’ informing them that ‘I want the matter studied in cold blood by sensible people and not by… psalm singing uniformed defeatists.’ He ridiculed the concern over civilian casualties, claiming that ‘it is absurd to consider mortality on this topic… in the last war the bombing of open cities was regarded as forbidden. Now everybody does it as a matter of course. It is simply a question of fashion changing as she does between long and short skirts of women.’
When the Chiefs of Staff expressed their reluctance, not on principle, but because it might provoke German retaliation, Churchill fired off another memo declaring himself ‘not at all convinced’ by their opposition. In the end, the only obstacle which prevented Churchill from insisting on the implementation of the plan was that the weapons ordered from the United States were not ready in sufficient quantity for another year, by which time the war in Europe was over.
This is my friend Matthew's new puppy. He told me after I posted this that she is a Chihuahua.
(20191017_103400SophieDoginPinkTUinitFlickr101719)
It's not the words aren't there but they'd only fail my emotions
Just want to feel this way without chaining you down to some old cliche
You want water in my hands and we stand waist deep in the ocean
It's bigger than the sea, it won't let me
Baby I know you try but sometimes I still want to hear it
Even when the waters calm but lately it's just when there's something wrong
Why can't we splash around and hold on to that playful spirit
Oh like we used to do and won't you
Say anything, save everything
Give me just one word, you can scream or whisper
If you want to stay with me tell me why
Say anything
Say anything, feel everything
I want to be with you so this love can fly
We'll hang on every word and we'll scream, we'll whisper
This moment is waiting for you and I
Say anything
Say anything..
Good friend and fellow flickerite Jonathan Lawton guides the 6D03 1327 Tinsley S.S. - Masboro Booths into its destination at Holmes .
The train headed by 60059 and consisting of 9 wagons for scrap had left Tinsley Yard and run round in Kilnhurst Loop before heading south to gain access to Booths .
14 2 20
Two homeless men outside an elevator in Las Vegas, Nevada, USA. This is the second-to-the-last image of my Las Vegas series. I'll post the last one next week. All the Las Vegas images are here --->
www.flickr.com/photos/fotograzio/28240091221/in/album-721...
These were much more common in Canberra than they are in Perth - and much easier to get close to, as were many of the ground-feeding birds. Wonder if that has anything to do with that fact that the few dogs I saw were all on leashes?
No. 112 in my Birds of Australia set.
Nature in Focus ~ 500px ~ G+ ~ Redbubble
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Clearly, JenT of Pencilprism will do anything for the shot. She also stays still for long periods of time, even without being instructed.
Note: this may or may not have been Gaddafi's residence. More from Toronto rooftops. Press "L".
View my Top 8 of 2011.
I've decided to stop adding the date to all of these pictures because they're clearly completely off, haha.
Anyways, two days ago I celebrated one of my best friend's 20th birthday! My friend, Claire, and I drove to my friend Dawning's house to celebrate her birthday! We baked cookies (as shown above), and played tons of games like Bananagrams, Life, Clue, and Sorry! :) We also watched Monsters, Inc. :D It was a really fun day spent at home!
_________________________________________________
Oh, and I got tagged to post 10 things I wish I could say to people right now:
01. I wish we could still be close, but I really don't know if we have anything in common anymore.
02. I don't understand why you complain to me about things that other people do, and then you go off and do the same things with your boyfriend right in front of me. It gets really frustrating.
03. Stop complaining that you're fat. You're not. You're skinny and you're gorgeous and I would kill to look just like you.
04. I don't like it when we hang out together along with other people because sometimes you ignore me and I feel really left out.
05. You think you can just keep picking on people like it's no big deal, but that's not true. What you say really hurts people, including me. I can usually tolerate people, but that one day you REALLY burst my bubble, and I can never, ever forgive you.
06. I am REALLY tired of you being so overprotective over me and how you are so restricting. I'm almost 20 years old and you still treat me like I'm a child. Stop trying to control my life.
07. You're a dick and I don't know why my friend thinks you're awesome. I was completely turned off the first time I met you.
08. I have a really great time with you when it's just you and me, but when we hang out together along with other people, you act different and it kind of turns me off. I wish you could act the same way you act with me, but you try to impress them and it's not what I really see in you.
09. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The end.
10. You're my BFF and I really wish you would come home for the summer, but you're not ;(
TAG, you're it!
arch | ɑːtʃ |
noun
a curved symmetrical structure spanning an opening and typically supporting the weight of a bridge, roof, or wall above it.
• an arch forming a monument or ornamental feature: a triumphal arch.
Napoleonic era fort, built to protect Venice from attack by Austria, just fifteen minutes walk from Punta Sabbioni Di Venezia, Italia, now in a wonderful abandoned state of decay
Inspired by Spacegooose's Space Plants
Currently hanging from my ceiling by fishing wire. A word to the wise, don’t ever build anything with Lego that needs to be hung by fishing wire.
Is there anything else that could go wrong with Flickr? Almost everything I try to do, it either doesn't work or only works sometimes. Ridiculous!
Two days ago, on 13 December 2017, I was out on the road by 9:20 am, which is a miracle in itself. I find it almost impossible to get out early when I am going for a drive by myself. I didn't have any photos edited ready to post that morning, which helped. Seeing snowflake icons in the forecast for too many of the days this coming week, I thought I had better take a drive SE of the city while the roads were clear. I was lucky with the clouds in the morning, but it did cloud over in the afternoon. I always stop and take a few photos of this beautiful little country church when I happen to be on this road. Actually, this tiny church was used in a movie - Brokeback Mountain.
"Although the tiny town of Dinton, AB does not appear on most maps, it now occupies a place in motion picture history. Locations Manager Darryl Solly was asked to find a “small unadorned church” for the del Mar wedding scene in the movie, Brokeback Mountain. The unassuming Anglican chapel at Dinton, built by prairie pioneers in 1906, shown here in these exclusive pre-production photos, was the perfect spot for Alma and Ennis to be married."
The movie stars Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhaal, Anne Hathaway and Michelle Williams and depicts the complex romantic and sexual relationship between two men in the American West from 1963 to 1983.
www.findingbrokeback.com/Albums/StThomasChurch.html
www.ourroots.ca/e/roots/lh6/lh6b0057.jpg
My hope was to maybe find a Snowy Owl in this whole area, like I had done in previous years. I knew I would probably have more luck if I drove the back roads NE of the city, but I didn't feel like driving that far. No luck finding a Snowy Owl and, in fact, there were barely any birds of any kind to be seen - just a small flock of Common Redpolls and two or three Magpies. At least I knew that I would pass several old barns that I have photographed on previous occasions. It just felt good to be in such scenery on a beautiful, sunny day. That is, until I somehow got lost on the way back home. I looked on Google Earth last night and I now know where I went wrong. Seeing a huge road sign that said North Calgary, I wasn't sure if I would end up on the dreaded Deerfoot Trail, like happened last time I was out in that area. So, I kept driving straight and found myself in a fairly built-up area that I had never been in before. Ended up driving back the way I had come until I was on familiar ground. A long way and a lot of wasted time! Total round trip was 333 km.
Our temperature this morning is 3C, much cooler than what we have been having the last while. The forecast for tonight and tomorrow is for a few snow flurries, then a couple of nice days before the snow returns, just in time for the annual Audubon Christmas Bird Counts. Looks like we may be getting a white Christmas after all. Everywhere is bone dry and firefighters were battling a grass fire just the other day, so moisture is much-needed. Crazy in December!
Chronicles of lifting Light B (Bridesmaids)
The alternate version of Chronicles of lifting Light C (The Reception Game)- Album
“ The wedding was a little over the top. The bride wanted her girl’s dresses to be something they would wear out again. A nice thought, but the gowns she found were a little too long for anything but formal evening wear, according to our girls who were asked to be part of the bridal party. The maid of honor wore a red satin version; midnight black satin was selected for the 6 bridesmaids.”
“A few years ago, “Ginny” was watching some type of show when I heard her squeal out. Our Golden Retriever ‘Sam’ meandered back in to see what all the fuss was about? I obediently followed. She pointed out to me an actress ( Emma Watson at the premier for NOAH) , That’s M’gown she exclaimed with enthusiasm, you remember, The ones your sister and I first wore for “Shiela’s” brides party, the one where your sister thought she had been ro… but she broke it off as something caught her attention on the telly.”
“Squirrel I thought, as Sam and I both looked. It was a black satin gown very strikingly similar in colour, cut, and material ( but Ginny’s version lacked a dangling train behind) to the one worn by Ginny ( and me sister) at thier chums wedding years before ( and winningly worn several times hence I might add). It is a pretty thing to behold my charming Ginny wearing it, and in its time, it has born witness to a few goings on that most ladies wearing a gown like that would most likely never encounter…….”
Chronicles of lifting Light B
*************************************** **************************************** *****
This story is true, and is really pretty much told as it happened, but in writing it down for the first time ever I found I could not resist the temptation to embellish and expand some of the scenarios. It makes for a much better story I believe.
It is long, so here goes it….
My twin sister and our friend “Ginny” were invited to join in a school chums bridal party. The groom didn’t have enough to go around so my sister’s boyfriend “Brian” and I were pressed into service.
At the reception Ginny made a comment about the flimsy clasps on the longish rhinestone earrings they were wearing. My sister, touching an earring, told her, “ no worries, luv, no one would nick them anyways, they are only rhinestones”. I wasn’t sure what was going on in my sister’s head that made her come out with that reply. But as I watched her pull at an earring, a seed was planted in my head about something I myself had seen in an old TV show (An episode that first wakened an interest in pickpocketing).
Much later that evening found Brian and I alone, and a little drunk (always a precarious time with us). I had been enjoying watching our girls on the dance floor. “Ginny” was dancing a slow dance with the brides Groom ( an awkward chap with the sometimes unfortunate name of Cecil), Sis was dancing with some boorish banker bloke whose name I choose not to remember. As I watched the girl’s swishing gowns move and flutter about in quite an interesting exhibition, I found meself mesmerized by the manner in which their display of jewels were sparkling. Not being able to shake Ginny’s earlier comment, nor its answer, out of my head, my mind began to drift and wander in some very deep waters; pulled about in some strong personal currents.
Suddenly, I had an epiphany, and I started to tell Brian about the show that had vexed me all these years past. It was an old Gilligan’s Island episode ( The Kidnapper). Ginger was dancing in formal wear with the thief they were trying to reform. He lifted up her long hair, exposing these long diamonded earrings she was wearing. When he let her hair back down, gone went Ginger’s diamond Earrings.( he also nicked another ladies diamond necklace in a similarly devious fashion).
I had been thinking about it, and saw that this may be a prime opportunity to try and mimic what I had found so intriguing in my younger day’s ( is what happened to Ginger possible in real life?) and so I drew Brian’s attention to where my sister was dancing and intentionally pointed out her healthy collection of rhinestones ( the lot of matching sets the bride had picked out for her girls to wear with their silky gowns was a bit overkill in Brian’s opinion, a view not shared by me).
I decided then to plant my own seed, so I questioned out loud if it was possible to pickpocket jewelry in the manner the thief in Gilligan’s Island had so cunningly carried out? We discussed it for bit, ending the friendly dispute that ensued by daring that the other couldn’t pull it off. I focused on my sister, because I figured that would be more of a tantalizing bait to dangle in front of Brian, who was horribly smitten with her, and I was right on the money! So my twin sister in the black satin gown and her rhinestones ended up being the preferred guinea pig for the goad.
Brian lost the toss and danced with her first,( happily cutting in on the banker fella) and was surprisingly as successful as he was swift. I watched as he swirled sis around the dance floor. For such a gig guy, “Brian” is surprisingly light on his feet, which is why in school he was an outstanding rugby player. I was watching eagerly, trying to guess what he was going after. His large hands began inching down her satin gown’s sleeves, so I was sure he was going for one of her dangling rhinestone bracelets.
He must have said something funny, for my sister raised her head back laughing, her long straight hair falling charmingly back, baring her throat to him. Brian’s hands moved back up, and in behind her throat. Then in a manner quite graceful for fingers that large, unclasped and slipped away the thin necklace from around her sweat glistened throat and pocketed it before she had finished her spurt of laughter. The song soon ended, and the pair of ‘em came back, Brian with a very smug grin on his bearded mug. He then took “Ginny” (who had just rejoined us after shaking off a seedy looking bloke who had wanted her to dance) by the hand and led her off dancing, his eyes taunting me to make my attempt.
Not to be outdone, I immediately led Sis back onto the floor before she had time to catch a breath. We danced to a rather Latin type beat. My sister turned her backside into me, and sort of did this gyrating move up and down my front side, with her hands held high above her head. As her warm, sweaty figure, slipped up and down slickly against mine, I looked things over, deciding on which of her remaining jewelry to target.
I started by placing my hands at her waist and let them slither up the silky sides of her satin gown, as I made my choice, one of her shimmering bracelets that were winking at me from her wrists waving above my head. With the prize within my grasp, I made my move. I found meself trembling a bit, as I moved my hands to her shoulders , with the thought bring down her arms in order to work my fingers down her gowns’ sleeve, where just below would be lying my objective. But just as I did, Sis pulled her arms behind me head, and laid her head back on my shoulder and closing her eyes, getting into the music’s deep beat. Her longish rhinestone earrings just hung there, like Gingers, ripe for the picking.
Without really putting any thought into it, I reached up and placed my hands gently alongside her ears, her eyes still shut, my victim smiled. The rest of the maneuver was surprisingly easy, as I glided my fingers down and slipped it off the pair of em in one effortless motion. The sparkling beauties came away from her sweaty ears as smoothly as an ice cube moves along a steaming hot grill ( I actually did have a thought like that). I held them in one fist for a bit, relishing in my success, before securing them away. We finished out the song, me basking in the fact that she was innocently unaware that her shiny earrings were now in her dance partners vest pocket.
But, not willing to be satisfied with the initial success of our experiment, we found that the dares kept coming out. Becoming so competitive between us, that by the time we left for the evening, the score was 5 pieces of jewelry to 4, with Brian winning the bragging rights, and my sister out all of the rhinestone pieces she had started out wearing about on her person.
Of course this is sounding like a masterful bit of pickpocketing, but our efforts were aided by keeping our pretty victim plied with alcohol ( wondering all the while if that is a technique is used by pickpockets working over their victims in real life?). Using that as an edge; another turn on the dance floor, a compliment induced hug, and the victim falling into deep sleep in a lounge armchair, enabled us vultures to eventually part my twin from all of her sparkling jewelry.
Also, as a side note here, all four of us had a discussion later about what it said of us as a society that none outside our group seemed to notice or bother pointing out to my sister about her slowly disappearing baubles!
We left the reception well after midnight and started walking the ten city blocks back to the hotel where Ginny and my sister shared a joining room with Brian and meself. As were making our way through a wooded Provincial park, we stopped in a small, isolated clearing and circling around her ,finally asked my sister about her missing jewels. Her reaction was absolutely, rewardingly priceless.
Her startled response was to the effect of: “Gasping, My God” as she fruitlessly felt about for them, her rustling gown glistened dark in the moon light. “My jewels, where did they go!, who took them, I’ve been robbed, mugged?” she pleaded helplessly, her thought patterns and speech a little slurred by her rather intoxicated condition. She looked desperately around at us, then seeing the look on upon our faces, and upon noticing that Ginny was still adorned with her jewels, Sis froze with the realization that we had all been up to something no good. As the silliness of her conjectures came home, she blushed, and told us to spill it out.
Here, we had all thought she had eventually caught on to what we had been up to all evening and was just humoring us, but in reality she had been utterly clueless. Ginny ( who had soon caught on to our little game but played dumb) was merciless in her teasing of my sister, rubbing it all in as she helped my twin place back on the Rhinestones that Brian and I dug from our pockets. I didn’t add any fuel to the fire, but I noticed that when Sis had uttered the word mugged, Ginny had automatically held onto her necklace and pendent!
Sis ended up taking it all with her usual good humor, or so we thought.
This next bit is my favorite.
We went up to the boys room, as the girls called our room, where we drank beer, danced to music and talked a bit. About two hours later found Brian passed out on the couch, and me sitting next to him in kind of a hazy stupor while holding onto a beer. Ginny and my sister were standing directly in front of me, holding beers of their own and giggling over some girlish nonsense, the swaying of their long glossy black satin gowns slowly putting me to sleep.
Ginny started giggling at one of sis jokes, and turned her figure so the brooch at the center of her gowns’ waistline almost hit me on the nose. Half asleep I reached up and lifted it. Looking up at the girls I saw that Ginny was paying no never mind towards me, my sister however, did notice (this is why I like the Sonia clip) and she laid a hand on Ginny’s shoulder, drawing her close so she could whisper a secret. I was able to undo the brooch, and slip it carefully off without notice. I held it up to my sister’s hand, which closed over it, and then she turned and plopped down next to me on the couch.
We both started talking to Ginny, now standing in front of us, as if nothing was going on. Puzzled I waited for my sister to flaunt the brooch in Ginny’s face. Instead, as she got Ginny into another giggling fit, she leaned over and whispered the word pendant in my ear, her hand holding out her own for added emphasis. I knew then she had thought up some grand plan.
Now wide awake, I got into fully my sister’s game. As I watched the giggling Ginny, my eyes took careful inventory of all her finer points (not just her jewels I will admit) . Now role playing that I was a professional pickpocket, and my twin was the spotter, pointing out whose jewels were worth taking. Ginny stopped, and caught my eyes looking her over, she blushed, and not knowing what was really going through my mind, smiled at me, as I smiled back, my eyes drinking her fetchingly attired figure up. I was imagining that all of Ginny’s collection of rhinestones was real diamonds. And that I was an actual thief after her lovely sparklers.
Thinking for a moment, I rose to my feet, and feeling like the real thing, I took Ginny’s hand and led her across to the window the couch was facing. We were on the 14th floor with a grand sweeping view of the great cities skyline. I asked her if she knew what the pink lights were about (there were no pink lights) and as she looked and kept asking where, I saw in the windows reflection that behind me my sister was pinning Ginny’s brooch onto the Brian’s passed out figure. Smiling, I got to the task at hand.
Using my hands I got Ginny to bend over more to help in her search, watching her dangling “diamond “ chain with its’ oval “diamond” pendent swinging an enticingly beckoning reflection in the window. I reached around with one hand and easily undid the clasp to poor befuddled Ginny’s chain. Using the pendants reflection in the window as a focal point, I subtly lowered my other hand underneath it, and as I caught it, let go of the chain. Pendent and chain slithered into a nice little pile in my palm, which I immediately closed up around it, hiding it from my victim’s possible notice.
I turned and nodded to my sister, who rose, tipsily, and slinked across the room to us. She brushed up against me with the pretense of seeing what we were up to. I felt her arm go around my waist, and handed Ginny’s necklace off. Sis than circled around us, giving Ginny a squeeze, and looked at me meaningfully, her fingers brushing an earring. She went back to the couch and began draping the shimmery chain and pendent on poor Brian.
A slow song had been playing, so I told Ginny to no never mind pink lights, and taking her hand, asked “madameswell” if she cared to dance. I tried it in an accent, failed miserably, and got Ginny to giggling as she accepted. I lead her the long way around the couch to where we had cleared out a little bit of a dancing floor. As I took her into my arms I found it exciting that she was oblivious to my intentions. Innocently unaware, that in indifference to my sisters words earlier, someone did now want to nick the earrings so merrily sawing from her ears.
I bided my time, appearing to look into Ginny’s eyes, my mind was working on something else. When I made my first move it was as subtle as could be, and it paid off. Raising me hand, I lifted her hair above an ear, and an let my fingers run back down through. One of her earrings vanished into my hand, and reaching around, was neatly tossed into another. As my sister placed it on Brian’s ear,( by now he was looking quite comical, and it was all we could do to keep from bursting out laughing), I leaned in and whispered something into Ginny’s now bare ear, while my other hand reached around and plucked the other earring away, and tossed the sparkler gracefully over to my sisters waiting hands.
Needing no more direction from sis now that I knew her plan ( It was her way of getting back at Brian for our game, and at Ginny for her teasing, it never occurred to me to wonder what my punishment would be!), I carried on alone.
Employing the same method that the thief had used in the Gilligan’s Island episode to remove his dance partners necklace, I began to compliment Ginny on how devastating she looked ( no lies), slowly moving my one hand up the slick material of the gown covering her back until I reached the dangling part of her hook and eye necklace with its’ glittering row of single “diamonds”. Lifted it up as she fawned over my words of (not false) praise, holding her ever so her tightly around the waist with my free hand, I unhooked the clasp, and let the necklace fall over one shoulder. Ginny never felt it hanging, or noticed it as I slipped it off her chest and over her gown’s satin shoulder till it slipped sparkling down behind her. I held it hanging behind her back for a few turns, still pouring out the compliments, until I was close enough to neatly toss her necklace over the couch to my waiting partner in crime.
Sis was waiting, and as the necklace sailed over the couch, I saw her raise a hand, and pull at one of her rings. How?, I mouthed, and she held up a finger motioning me to wait a sec. I continued to dance with Ginny, who was growing ever heavier in my arms, as sis placed the necklace around poor Brian’s throat.
I watched as me twin got up and passed us , her satin gown whispering as she walked, heading to get a beer from the fridge. She stood for a moment then gave me a signal to twirl our victim around.
I lifted her hand, and spun Ginny around in a pirouette . The poor thing, already more than a little tipsy, fell hard against me, giggling. I did it again, and as she stared to lose her balance, my sister walked past and faking a trip, bumped into Ginny and both girl’s went down in a heap of black swishing satin. As I bent over to help the pair of giggling dolls untangle, I manage to slip off a ring off from over the sweaty knuckles of Ginny’s left pinky finger.
I helped them both up, and as my sister helped straighten Ginny’s gown while giggling over the incident, Ginny placed her hands behind her back, exposing her bracelets. I pocketed the ring, and moving up against Ginny from behind, attempted to remove the first “Diamond” bracelet from around her wrist. It came away with absolutely no resistance, or notice, and I moved off, and went to stand next to my sister, hands crossed behind me back. She put her arm around me, hugging me against her, I felt her fingers go to my hand, and I opened my fingers and let her take the ring and bracelet. Keeping her fist closed, she coolly left us, retrieving her unopened beer from the floor, and headed back smoothly to the couch.
I will admit I was now getting overly confident. I asked Ginny if she wanted a beer and we went over to the kitchenette to get them. As we walked, I placed my hands on her slick waist and led her there, as she giggled tipsily the whole way. I held the door open, and as she was bending down to get them, she laid her arm along the top of the drawer. I then made my seventh attempt, on her other “Diamond” bracelet
I had undone the clasp, and was getting ready to take it when I made the fatal error at looking over her shoulder at the couch. My sister was inwardly laughing at her handiwork, and to see a person like Brien, who takes his masculinity with pride, now decked out like some bearded floozy, was too much. I chuckled, and the bracelet fell, clanking against the door, landing at Ginny’s feet. I was caught red handed and my attempt at any more thievery was thwarted. Ginny smirked; here now lad, don’t try yer games on me.
Behind her, Ginny head my sister snort, and looking at my smirk, demanded to know what we had found so funny. So I grabbed her, spun her around, and led her back around the couch until she caught sight of the still snoring Brian! We both joined my sister in busting a gut laughing. Then, come to find that poor innocent Ginny thought that it was my sister’s rhinestones plastered all over poor Brian. When we pointed out the errors of her conclusion, it was my sister’s turn to laugh and tease the poor girl over her dumbfounded expression as now it was her hands failing to find her missing pieces of jewelry. Then Brian woke and he became the new center of the joke.
Ginny had reclaimed her rhinestones and had disappeared into the ladies room to replace them to their rightful perch and rejoin in with their remaining companions, which I thought, being so late, why bother? And Brain and Sis were on the couch still teasing the other. Suddenly I felt a hand softly placed on my shoulder, and looking up found myself trapped in a “come hither” look, emanating from Ginny’s twinkling green eyes, a look that I have come since to know very well.
We left the pair of gigglers on the couch, and went out into the evening, just the two of us, meeting nary another living soul at that early morning hour. The only exceptions were a weary desk clerk with a nose buried in her book, and a curious short blue-haired lady wearing a grey pant-suit, carrying a large handbag, who came upon Ginny in the lobby, while I was absent using its restroom . The odd thing here is, that until I showed up after doing my business, the lady appeared to be trying to lead good hearted Ginny outside to help search for some lost keys or such, at 2:30 Am! I suggested her to wait until light.
After managing to pry Ginny away, receiving the now disapproving look from purse –lipped blue haired lady for my efforts, we otherwise were not held up in our progress. The world was now ours, as my richly attired lady and her tuxedoed (handsome?)Escort made their journey together hand in hand. We ended up making a very long stroll in the Provincial park, and reentering the same isolated, secret clearing, proceeded to acting out our own role playing game, ala the movie “to Catch a Thief”, complete with fireworks of our own making.
And I still remember feeling pretty bloody cocky as Ginny and I left our room and rode the elevator down. And why not, I ask? Cause now , not only was I out strolling about with the most captivating ginger haired lass, sparkling in fancy dress around, but I had totally creamed Brian’s score in the jewelry lifting department, and that’s what life is all about for us boys, winning the game, isn’t it?
So ends my story, of which I have written 2 versions.
My question is now this:
Which version, if one reads both, do you believe to be the truer?
Please leave a comment at the end of the story you believe is..
In appreciation,
Thank You
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In Appraisal
This story may be unique in its nature, but if not we would love to hear about it. Please leave a comment or drop an email ( or both) about you own experience.
Thank You
The Sonia clip shortcut ( recommended viewing)
youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk
Ps. Check out Chronicles of lifting light C for a less embellished telling this particular event
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
#AbFav_PHOTOSTORY
#AB_FAV_ANYTHING_GOES_ 🎨
Paul surprised me with these beauties.
I really get annoyed when people use the worn cliché, that a man only gives flowers if he has done something 'wrong', if he needs forgiving! I'm sick and tired of it, plus I find it most unfair to men.
Many give flowers just to say, I care, I love you, thank you...
Anthuriums are a fun flower and never fail to provoke a smile.
They look almost unreal! The flowers are thick, shiny, ribbed and wrinkled, while the leaves are large and glossy, which makes them so much more difficult to photograph well!
They belong to the Araceae family, which also includes callas and philodendrons.
Their genus name, Anthurium, comes from the Greek words anthos meaning "flower," and oura, meaning "tail."
Anthurium can also be called "Flamingo Flower" or "Boy Flower", both referring to the structure of the spathe and spadix.
Thank you for your comments and time, M, (*_*)
IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN (BY LAW!!!) TO USE ANY OF MY image or TEXT on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
red, Anthurium, spathe, spadix, flowers, studio, black-background, colour, design, square, "Magda indigo", ”Flamingo Flower”, "Boy Flower”, "HASSELBLAD"
A kind person donated many caps to me this past year, this is most of them mixed with some other random finds.
Flickr no longer allows notes, but any info, opinions, thoughts on anything you see is welcome in the comments.
Trades and donations welcome, send me a Flickr mail.
Full collection can be viewed here: www.flickr.com/photos/j-fish/sets/72157625701153032