Lettering
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Letters and number found on the box my granddaughter brought along with some activity in it yesterday. Pastel lettering and number.
For Macro Mondays, theme Pastel.
Among a large number of SD70M's, a pair of baby tunnel motors sit stored at the former HB&T Congress Yard near Downtown Houston on a sunny Spring morning.
Both former Missouri Pacific units, UPY 660 was built as MP 1660 and UPY 638 was built as MP 1638. And UPY 638 is still wearing its North Little Rock-style block lettering from the mid-80's, with some Jenks Blue showing through.
UP GP15-1 #Y660
UP GP15-1 #Y638
Houston, TX
March 14th, 2023
It was a day early in 2012 that my obsession with abandoned buildings began, I felt this huge unity with these places, they spoke to my soul and being inside them was the greatest feeling ever. Consumed by the beauty I found in their decay and history, for 5 years I have been photographing these places.
I have travelled all around Europe and last year the world, in 2014 I produced my first book Soviet Ghosts and this year my second one Fukushima will come out in the shops in April. But for these 5 years, what I have really been collecting these photos for is something truly special, an indulgent celebration of the photos I have created for my series Orphans of Time.
I will be producing a very special limited edition book of 2000 copies, all will be signed and numbered, they will look like old Victorian photo albums, each will have a black cover, embossing, and gold debossed lettering, the edges of the paper will be gold leaf and a metal clasp will hold the book shut. Inside will be hundreds of photos taken over the last 5 years. The book itself will look like a remnant from the past, perhaps more at home on the old dusty bookshelf of one of the abandoned houses that I roam.
Who would be interested in getting a copy?
Video made by the talented Chris Lavelle using my photography
from M Parker's library: "look at the rich blacks!" esteemed as the most gorgeously printed book ever (poorly photographed here), from post war Germany. Zapf did all lettering. i've forgotten the punch cutter's name. bad form.
Buy Meggazones For Coughs Colds & Catarrh
Nettle's "Tussodyne" - the cough healer 2/- per bottle 5/-
Nettle's Tonic - the best pick-me-up 1/3 per bottle 3/3 (Prices painted out)
Old painted advert in Tooting on a chemist that started trading in late Victorian times and was founded by William Nettle & still carries on today.
Some of Nettles own products are advertised here.
I have no idea what "tussodyne" means.
Sole
Manufacturers
of the
Marlborough
Series
Tradesmen
Duplicate Count
Invoice Books
Here at 330 New Cross Road, circa 1939 were Marlborough Press, Printers.
The saga of these numbers continues with an exciting new chapter. In 2021, as the Sun Valley Villagers remodeled and rebranded (to Creekside), they stripped all the old wooden numbers and unceremoniously tossed them in the dumpsters during construction. We saved as many as we could, including a full set (0–9), our own 1303, and an extra 5321 for back home in Oakland. The original designer and manufacturer is still unknown. See the album for more of the story: flickr.com/photos/23806189@N00/sets/72157647664475789
In 2014 the great artist, fashion and interior designer Isastella Corbara Sartori, worldwide famous with different art pseudos like Isa and Laetitia, primary designer for many years of the most exclusive apparel,accessories &jewellery limited edition collections of Barney's NY, collaborated with White Angel and myself for our music movie "Survivors of the Third Millennium", in particular to focus and visually finalize the concept written by White Angel on her visions and block for the movie, presented in worldwide première at the Foundation of Palazzo delle Stelline in Milano. Isastella and Angel have agreed a lot on the principles of an imagined future world after an apocalyptic event.
This lettering is the personation of one of their shared and deeply believed ideas and has been entered in the final sequences of the movie, just before the final titles with the credits to all the cooperators who worked in team to make true White Angel's dream .
We both want to dedicate our last pics quota of this collective profile to the magistral art of an amazing Master and one of our most loved mentors: Isastella Corbara Sartori, a grand Artist, a true Friend, an amazing Earthling.
Text transcript:
I AM MY OWN SOIL,
I SEED WHAT THEY TAUGHT ME,
YOU ARE MY CROP,
I AM MY OWN NET
©Isastella Corbara Sartori
co-shared with ©Vintage Workshop®
All rights reserved.
Notice: More pictures illustrating her creations and some portraits of her that we had the privilege to shoot at her private home, her studio and on the occasion of our meetings and exhibitions, will be shared in this same album in the next weeks and months.
Otra excelente noche de graffiti con mis buenos panas: Boders, Sure, Atem, Harock y Shortek.
Dedicada a OneSak (Caracas).
Av. Las Delicias, Maracay, Venezuela 2012.
Couldn't get all the lettering in, but the partial wording on the glass partition / sliding doors spell "Brisbane Powerhouse".
From thedailylumenbox.com Adox CMS 20II shot at ISO 12 with Voigtlander (Cosina) 21mm Color Skopar on Leica Ic. Developed in Adox Adotech IV for 10 minutes at 74° F.
This story actually happened a very long time ago.
Claire is not, or ever was, the girl in this story’s name. Other than that, the skeleton of the tale is accurately depicted as it occurred.
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Now, to start off, let us talk cemeteries.
To me, a proper cemetery has been around for several hundred years. With long, looming old headstones with eroded lettering that have been there so long, they appear to be part of the landscape. We grew up within walking distance to one like that. Full of history, stories, and suspected hauntings.
Like the witches' circle located in a secluded corner of what we at the time called the forgotten Cemetery...
The witches' circle was a circle of old tall slabs that contained the remains of a suspected dark magic practitioner and his followers. Their remains were laid to rest inside the circle.
My brother’s wife Ginny as a young girl had visited this area. With her was a young mother with her infant. The infant was sleeping peacefully in her mother’s arms until they passed through the circle. While inside the baby started fussing. Once out of the circle the baby was fine. Out of curiosity, the circle was entered again. This time the infant started crying until the outside was reached. Figuring that was quite enough, the group left the cemetery.
This particular evening We had been sitting (drinking) and telling ghost stories behind the forgotten cemetery that was located off of the wooded part of Abbot’s chase lane. We were within sight of the witches' circle, which that evening behaved.
Now Abbot’s Chase lane ends in town, stopping at a T in the road where our local pub, the Poet and Peasant is. The pub itself, with the skull of a 14th-century poet named Erik, sits upon a balustrade. So the pub can be a pretty spooky place in its own right...
But I transgress...
Claire’s story was told to a group of us that October evening by my twin Brother as his contribution to the evenings' ghost telling.
After he told it, we challenged him over it not being a proper ghost tale, more like Twilight Zone fodder actually.
But whether it is a spooky ghost story or not, I will leave it up to you, the readers to decide…
Enjoy
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Claire, an only child, received an antique ring from her Grandmother on her sixteenth birthday. It was a pretty thing, a large square sapphire stone surrounded by twinkling diamonds.
Claire truly felt blessed by this, for even though she loved her Grandmother, the old lady could be a mean and vindictive soul, who only did nice things in a begrudgingly way.
Her neighbors referred to her as ‘the witch’ for that reason. And for all Claire knew, so did her parents!
Claire knew about the witch label from a girlfriend whose family lived in that neighborhood. She also knew that her Grandmother’s favorite horse, Flitchrune was, when gossiping, referred to as witchbroom.
Just two months after receiving the gift, Claire’s 85-year-old Grandmother passed away unexpectedly.
After taking Flitchrune out for a bit of exercise, the 85-year-old lady had felt faint and went far a ly down. There they found her in bed, where she had died peacefully in her sleep of a heart attack.
Claire was out of the country at the time studying. Her parents, not wishing for her to cut her studies short, did not inform their daughter of her grandmother’s passing until she came back, two weeks after the funeral.
Claire understood completely, but she felt down deep that she had let her Grandmother down by not being at the service. So much so that she could not bring herself to visit her grave.
From the Grandmother’s estate, her parents gave Claire a small end cabinet that her Great, Great Uncle, a warden level Free Mason, a carpenter by trade, had made. On the backside of the cabinet(where it would be against the wall) was a secret drawer.
The drawer was empty, but Claire liked to imagine the secrets it once held.
It was inside here that Clair kept her case of good pearls, and the antique ring when not being worn for Church or some formal dress occasion.
One such formal dress occasion was the gala held for student’s graduation from university. This was event was coincidently held on the 1st month anniversary of her Grandmother’s passing.
For the occasion, she wore a long blue taffeta dress with a plunging neckline. She borrowed her Mum’s expensive diamond rhinestone necklace with matching earrings. She also was wearing her Grandmother’s ring.
Claire had a brilliant time there. Dancing and drinking the evening away. So much fun in fact that when the time came to be put out, a group of her friends decided to party on and Claire followed in their wake.
They started dancing at a dockside pub, the Poet and Peasant, where the ladies in Claire’s circle found themselves the centre of attention. Helped by the pretty way they were all attired.
in fact, Clare had such a good time, that she did not remember how she got home or putting herself to bed even.
That night she had some very strange dreams.
A riderless horse appearing in front of her as she walked through the heather by her Grandmother’s manor. She followed the horse as it led her through a ballroom, crowded with dancers. From there she found herself outside again, with the horse standing on the far bank of a river. She tried to find a way across but got lost in a cemetery. Off to one side was a building lit up by candles. Going inside she found herself in a room filled with men wearing bloomers, ruffled shirts, and sashes with strange metal symbols attached. They were not paying her any head, instead Looking at something in the centre of the room. She moved up close and saw it was her Great, Great Uncle’s cabinet, the secret door open.
Claire found herself being jostled over to it. Curiously she looked inside. Seeing something glittering she tried reaching in, only to be pulled back as the object was grabbed by a male hand. The drawer then slammed shut. The masons were angry with her. Yelling as she tried to free herself
From their grasp. She felt hands pulling and clawing at her. She felt her mum’s necklace being twisted around her throat as….
She awoke, realizing she was in her bed, still dressed, and wrapped in her comforter. It was 5:00 in the morning.
Strange, though, she never usually used the comforter like a blanket.
She, unsteadily, got up to survey the damage in the bathroom mirror. Deciding as she did that a cold shower was in order. She began by removing her Mum’s rhinestones.
She then gasped in real horror.
Her mothers’ jewelry was still all there, but not her Grandmother’s ring. It was gone from her finger.
She began a frantic search in and around the bed. Not finding the ring.
Sitting on the bed she tried to calm herself and think rationally.
She then began to methodically search the room, several times. Including the secret cabinet drawer, which she looked inside at least 3 different times. But to no avail.
She called her twin brother and he came over to help in the search.
He also searched the ancient cabinet, removing the secret drawer, and explored all its nooks and crannies, finding nothing but cobwebs and an old farthing.
They retraced her steps that evening, going to the dance hall and then to the pub. But again. To no avail. The ring simply had vanished.
A lost ad was even placed in the local paper. With no response.
A man had come forward at the pub and said he had run into her and her friends there last night. He admitted he had seen her home, along with a friend, walking both to the door from the cab.
She admitted to not remembering him at all. He chuckled, teasingly saying he remembered her very well. Then added. and Luv, you were still wearing the pretty ring as you so abruptly left me standing at the closed door.
She liked his manner of speaking, and apologized for not remembering much of last evening, then daringly gave him a peck on the cheek for seeing her home.
But sadly, No word or trace of the ring could be found, nor its disappearance explained.
A week later, still feeling tearful over the loss of the ring, she finally went to visit her grandmother’s grave. Apologizing profusely for not being there for her.
Someone had placed a stuffed small animal of a horse, and she petted it as she wept real tears, glad she was alone there.
But Claire felt no comfort, and the dead silence surrounding her was a bit disconcerting like she was being chastised and scolded by someone or something.
She looked down at the stuffed toy horse and thought….’Witchbroom?’
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Now for the ‘spooky’ bit
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Two months later
Taking a job in a city off the coast, Claire moved from her apartment and took a flat overlooking the ocean. With her went the antique cabinet with its secret drawer
Nine months later an invite came for the university alumni to attend the annual graduation gala. She contacted several of her classmates and they agreed to meet up and have a reunion there.
On a lark, Claire decided to wear the same blue taffeta gown she had worn to last year's Gala for her graduating class.
When the day before the evening dance came, she stopped at her parents to again borrowed her Mother’s rhinestones.
But sadly, there would be no lovely antique ring to wear.
With this thought in mind, Claire felt compelled to stop by her Grandmother’s gravesite.
Nothing had changed there, including the lack of fellow visitors. She hated being alone in a cemetery!
Still, she made her way to the grave and after laying down a single lily, sat on a nearby bench in silent prayer. She apologized in her mind, to her grandmother for carelessly losing the ring. And again for not being there when she passed on.
A crisp breeze came across the graveyard, chilling Claire who was not wearing a wrap. She rose and left the eerily silent cemetery.
That evening Claire partied deep into the night, with her group, again ending up at the Poet & Peasant Pub for nightcaps.
There she ran into the same charming lad who had seen her home after last year's gala evening.
This time she remembered him and was sober enough to actually quite enjoy his company.
After the last call, he again saw her back to her hotel. And this time Claire boldly gave him a proper hug and kiss goodnight.
She finally collapsed onto her bed and soon fell into a deep sleep, and into another nightmare.
Claire dreamed of her being back at the cemetery. It was a moonless night, yet shadows crept in towards her from every angle as she walked in and out of the ancient moss-covered tombstones,
She abruptly stopped and saw her Lilly laying upon a heap of black earth. But no tombstone. Instead, the ancient cabinet her Ancestor had built stood silent guard. She went over to it and searching, found the secret drawer. She began to pull it open, seeing something glittery in its dark depths.
But before she can properly reach inside, Claire was pulled away from behind. She is turned around and comes to face a looming stranger, his features hidden in shadows.
He begins to dance with her, briskly, powerfully.
Claire finds herself overwhelmed, struggling to get free from the towering terror.
She felt he wanted something from her.
She became aware of wearing her Mother’s rhinestones and tearfully hoped they would not disappear as her ring had.
Then, from behind she hears the stern voice of her Grandmother crystal clear.
“It’s ok dear..,”
Claire struggles to look back as her Grandmother continues ..,
“….let my Granddaughter go, I’ve forgiven the wretch and so leave us now, and make it right.”
Claire suddenly startled herself awake… panting and sweating. But she is alone. No one or no thing is in the room with her.
Suddenly a creeping chill ran up along her spine, freezing her on the spot.
“Make what right?”
She pondered this last bit from her nightmare.
Claire feels an overwhelming urge to go back to her flat right then and there. To again have a proper look inside the cabinets’ secret door.
But she decided to complete her visit home. For surely it was mere whimsey to think the lost ring would be there after all this time.
The rest of the weekend seemed to move slowly for Claire. Though she did enjoy her time with her brother and parents.
But when Sunday evening came and she found herself on the road, Claire lost no time in dashing back her ocean side flat.
When she got in the door Claire dropped her bags just inside the door and bolted to her bedroom.
Pulling the cabinet from the wall she opened the secret drawer and looked inside, heart pounding.
She froze in shock...
There, inside, was the antique ring belonging to her grandmother that had disappeared mysteriously 11 months prior. Sitting right next to her black satin pearl case as it had never left.
Claire picked up the sparkling ring and examined it, her hands shaking so bad she nearly dropped it. It was her Grandmothers ring, no doubt of that.
As Claire put it on her finger, once again mesmerized by its glitter, she could offer no credible explanation for the reappearance of the ring!
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Over ten years have since passed. The ring, when not worn by Claire on special occasions, still spends its time inside the secret drawer, next to the satin pearl case that holds her good pearls.
It has never shown any sign of going back to wherever it had disappeared to...
Here are some of the cookies in the platter. I wish I had Polka-dot Zebra here to do the lettering for me! I think the bouquet is my favorite! I had icing issues on the church and had to put a second layer of white on the siding which I think ended up being a good mistake since it made the windows and door look recessed.