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i had this idea when I was brainstorming last night, didn't really come out as planned, but that's okay. school tomorrow, i'm excited. the more days I go, the more days till summer.
help me pick which photography class to take, film or digital?
thank you julianne (between two lungs) for the testimonial!
Mural entitled "A Persistent Thread" by Jonny Alexander for "Murals in the Market" seen in Detroit, Michigan.
The artist explains the work as follows: This image is a personal interpretation of Detroit, where its been and where it's going. A narrative image you can read from left to right lends reference to Detroit's manufacturing past, it's present growth and it's future yet to be known. There is a banner that weaves its way through the whole image from past to future. It's meant to represent the cultural thread that has run through Detroit, with +80% of Detroit's population being black, I see this legacy as being the lifeblood that gives the city it's culture, vitality and creative energy. The banner serves as a reminder to the changing city to recognize and celebrate its cultural legacy.
Drone photo by James aka Urbanmuralhunter on that other photo site.
Edit by Teee
From Virginia, Rob brought back some antique furniture from his late grandmother's home. One of the pieces of furniture is a large chest of drawers. The drawers are still filled with all of her craft things -- bits of fabric, doll-making supplies, sewing sundries. A couple of the drawers are filled with spools of colorful thread, and those are just wonderful to look at.
Upon finding out Amtrak 48 had been delayed out of Chicago the night before I checked where it was at and realized I had a shot at getting it so I scrambled out the door. The trip would have been a failure if not for the fact that the Maumee Bridge had been opened. The NS Toledo Terminal dispatcher telling Amtrak that "The bridge is up in the air" both gave me a laugh (it's a swing, not a lift bridge) and some hope that I could get over to the east side ahead of the train. As it turned out I had a few minutes to spare and soon enough the eastbound Lakeshore ran around 20T and crossed in front of it to thread between NS 67X in the siding and 17N on main one at CP 285. Northwood, OH 6/26/19
Spools of thread, cards with trim or bias tape and bits of lace totally remind me of my childhood. My mother always sewed all my clothes and I didn't wear a 'store bought' dress until I was old enough to have a part-time job and buy my own.
Mum was an excellent seamstress and could make the most complicated patterns. When I was in high school and all the other girls were beginning to dress like hippies I was the one kitted out in tweed suits sewn from Vogue patterns that made me look like Angela Lansbury from Murder She Wrote. I even had jackets with bound buttonholes. I betcha there is hardly anyone reading this who is familiar with a bound buttonhole but take it from me it's very complicated sewing.
Do you think I was happy wearing these designer clothes? Not even a bit....it was horrifying...it was humiliating.....it was persecution. :-D I wanted to be like all the other girls and wear cheap stuff off the rack. This caused no end of consternation in our household resulting in tears, harsh words, foot stomping and pouting but I still had to wear those remarkably well made clothes.
One of my greatest liberating triumphs came when my mother made my coat for school. It was a dressy knee length coat with a lovely weave in powder blue. It was an old lady coat. There wasn't a day that went by that this ungrateful daughter didn't complain about her embarrassing coat so finally my mother said she would dye it navy blue if it would make me happier about it. It seemed a compromise I could live with.
So Mum set about dying the coat and when she was done it had shrunk to the size of something only a five year old could wear.
I was overjoyed.
She was dismayed.
It was vindication.
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My website: www.hollycawfieldphotography.net/
My abstract experiments:
www.flickr.com/photos/188106602@N04/
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This finch had some very fine, almost hairlike feathers that promptly showed up. Such a beautiful little bird.
Took a little walk in the James River yesterday. I took this while standing in a little sandbar that appeared only in the last year or so. The secret (What is it about me and secrets the past couple of pictures?) is that you have to stay really close to the bank. Otherwise it's like quicksand. As one foot sank in quickly, I scrambled closer to the bank, laughing at myself.
This was taken in the flower garden at Pineland Farm in New Gloucester, Maine.
Thread-waisted wasp, (subfamily Sphecinae), any of a group of large, common, solitary (nonsocial) wasps in the family Sphecidae (order Hymenoptera) that are named for the stalklike anterior (front) end of the abdomen. Thread-waisted wasps are typically more than 2.5 cm (about 1 inch) long and are parasitic on insects and spiders. The host is often numbed by malaxation, a pinching or crushing of the neck by the wasp’s pincerlike jaws, and paralyzed by the wasp’s sting. The wasp places the host’s body in a mud cell and lays an egg on it. Upon hatching, the larva consumes the host.[Encyclopedia Britannica]
much about the places i traveled in west africa was unfamiliar to me...the dress, the language, the food, the religions, the customs. but one of the things i love about travel is no matter how far away, we are able to see common threads in people across the world.
the two similarities most striking to me were the way children play, and the way mothers respond when their babies are crying.
this little boy, while chasing after siblings, had fallen and landed face first in a pile of sand and gravel. his mom kissed him so much that the majority of the sand wound up on her own face. no idea the words she was saying to him, but the sentiments communicated beautifully.