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On October 30, 2013, I found a small cardboard box amid a stack of larger boxes that put into storage in the basement of my mother’s home in Pretoria, South Africa, about three decades ago. When I pack stuff away, I usually record what's in the box by writing an inventory list on the outside. This one had nothing written on it, so I decided to take it upstairs to investigate. Back in my former bedroom, I opened the box up and found it to contain all manner of military ephemera from my two years compulsory national service in the South African Defence Force (July 1979 - July 1981). A menacing little time capsule from the worst years of my life.
The label from a bottle of Kronenbräu 1308 beer and a ball of nylon pantyhose used to buff boots after polishing and "boning".
Can you sing me the sweetest lovin' lullaby...
Fly me over the moon
With your love so high...
If it's not our day
Will you Give it another try...
Would you Listen for a symphony
In my softest sigh...
Tint my stained glass wings
I'm your pretty Butterfly
taken at my school for the college photography one shot competition. This won on a particular week. taken with my Sony Alpha A550 ,the grain of the skin is so detailed.
the writing is on the wall for this bar/venue which seems to have made itself unpopular with it's neighbours.
One of a photo collection taken at the Pima Air & Space Museum in Tucson, Ariznoa. They have an amazing collection, and a friendly and knowledgeable staff. We had a great day there with the whole family. The kids love it… and so do the grown-ups. I had not been since I was a child… anyway. I hope you enjoy the image.
Broadway and Embarcadero, Oakland, California • More plaques per landmark @ Heinold's First and Last Chance Saloon, listed by the National Park Service on the National Register of Historic Places on September 1, 2000 (#00001067).
• To the left of Heinolds’ you see a wonderful mural depicting several stages of Jack’s life. To the left you see Jack and Charmian in front of the Winery Cottage welcoming guests to their estate. Then we see him standing at the steering wheel of the Snark. It is followed by an oval which displays the Wolf House as it was days before the fire. Over a view of Jack London Square as seen from the estuary hovering over Jack’s motto: The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. The famous wolf can be seen to the left of the hut Jack lived in during his Alaska years. – From Walter Schweikert's Bay Area Murals.
• Steeped in maritime lore, Jack London Square is one of Oakland’s most identifiable landmarks and a symbol of the city’s history as a seaport. Fronting a natural estuary leading to San Francisco Bay, the site was the heart of Oakland’s port operations, linking the industries of shipping and agriculture. It remains a vibrant working waterfront.
Jack London (January 12, 1876 – November 22, 1916) was an American author who wrote The Call of the Wild, White Fang, and The Sea Wolf along with many other popular books. A pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction, he was one of the first Americans to make a lucrative career exclusively from writing.
In an introduction to a collection of stories, he wrote:
I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.
Jack London spent much of his boyhood on the waterfront that is now Jack London Square. Here, his youthful adventures as an oyster pirate and sailor inspired stories like The Sea-Wolf. Visit the life sized bronze stature of Jack London standing watch over the waterfront at the foot of Broadway, created by artist Cedric Wentworth.
London made notes for future books while sitting at the tables of Heinold’s First and Last Chance Saloon, built in 1883 from the timbers of a whaling ship. Now a National Literary Landmark, Heinold’s preserves its rustic character from an earlier era when it was frequented by eminent politicians, statesmen, authors, and artists, as well as humble sailors shipping out to sea. Adjacent to Heinold’s, a recreated model of the cabin Jack London lived in during his time spent in the Yukon is available for viewing. – From the website of Jack London Square.
I'm busy writing a research proposal for an MA thesis. Or, rather, I'm busy taking pictures of my desk when I should be writing my research proposal.
I'm taking part in a workshop called "Justice Has A Face". It's almost over and I've jus now decorated the front of the journal! I decided to go for the simple doodle with a pen. :) I used a leftover journal from my run with scissors class. ;)
By Catedrales e Iglesias Album 0481 Templo de San Agustín (Guadalajra) Estado de Jalisco,México
© Álbum 0481
By Catedrales e Iglesias
Arquidiócesis de Guadalajara
Templo de San Agustín
Calle Morelos No. 188
Colonia Centro
Sector Juarez
C.P.44100
Guadalajara, Jal.
Tel: (33) 3614 53 65
Su construcción se inició en 1573 y se fundó como convento.
El templo es de una sola nave, sin cruceros, cúpula, o bóvedas por aristas que la cubren.
Cuenta con una fachada de Barroco sobrio, ostentando en su portada dos cuerpos; en el primero un arco de medio punto con columnas adosadas de fuste acanalado, el segundo con una ventana de dibujos del Siglo XVII. En el Altar Neo-plateresco se encuentran dos esculturas; la de San Agustín y al otro lado la de su madre Santa Mónica.
A ellos, la orden remonta los orígenes de su fundación. La Sacristía conserva buenas pinturas del convento.
El convento agustino desapareció en el siglo pasado y el único claustro que sobrevive, anexo a la Iglesia es ocupado por la Escuela de Música de la Universidad de Guadalajara.
go watch bright eyes' video for "easy/lucky/free"and you'll understand why i did this. if you don't want to watch it, then these are the lyrics to that song- written backwards with the image flipped. i wrote it as it was playing. so like, i wrote it pretty quickly. it's hard.
if you HAVE seen it, this is my attempt at it. because i was bored.
*yesterdays photo*
sorry, again....i've been a bit out of taking photos recently: but thats going to change!
last week it was summer...its now completly autumnal. LOVELY :)
"Die Steuermarke über 2 Pfennig wurde von der Post und später Deutschen Bundespost verkauft. Die Steuer beruhte zunächst auf dem vom Wirtschaftsrat des Vereinigten Wirtschaftsgebietes erlassenen Gesetz zur Erhebung einer Abgabe »Notopfer Berlin« im Vereinigten Wirtschaftsgebiet vom 8. November 1948, das später mehrfach neu gefasst wurde. Es wurde durch das Berlinhilfegesetz ersetzt." Wikipedia.
My Dinner with Eric
7 June 2005
I just had dinner with Eric Bogosian. I can’t believe it. I’ve been a huge fan of his for years, ever since this guy Sam gave me his performance piece “Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll” on CD back at Roach Motel many years ago. Then I caught up with his starring and basically one-man role in Oliver Stone’s movie version of Bogosian’s play “Talk Radio,” and after that I saw his live theater shows and bought his books. Now he’s a novelist as well, peddling two novels, “Mall” and his new one “Wasted Beauty” which, uncharacteristically, Books and Books hadn’t managed to get a shipment of, so no signed copy for me, but as it happened, things turned out much better . . .
I showed up alone, after yet another day spent alternately unpacking boxes at my my new apartment and dozing away the brutal June heat, that even cranking AC can’t dispel. I made sure to be early to the bookstore, as I’m a huge fan and wanted to get on the front row. It certainly has been a long time since I was in Coral Gables. It was the first time I’d seen the new Books and Books location.
After a breathless introduction by a local theater director, Bogosian came out and began to discuss his book, with a very different affect than I remembered from his performance pieces. He talked about how 9/11 happening “ten blocks from my house” “broke something in me” and how he stopped doing or writing his live performance pieces as a result, though he still writes plays.
He read a sequence from “Wake Up and Smell the Coffee” (in which a schlemiel tries to chat up an airline attendant), and then read a long sequence from his novel, a scene at a therapist’s, in which the protagonist discusses with the therapist his guilt at being unhappy even though he has a life which appears as if it ought to make him happy.
A Q&A session followed, in which the large audience proved itself very well-up on Bogosian’s work. At one point he got into an argument with a young man who was taking photos of him, on the subject of whether the guy needed his permission or not. It was an interesting exchange, and the young man acquitted himself quite well. I was tempted to get into it, as I’d half thought about taking a couple of pictures myself before deciding I was too interested in what was being said to distract myself. The whole thing seemed to bother Bogosian, and he seemed to feel that he’d ruined the mood of the reading by extending the exchange, but it was more entertaining than anything else.
He discussed the making of the movie version of Talk Radio, which was made in tandem with Born on the Fourth of July. When Oliver Stone introduced him to an old man in a wheelchair he didn’t realise it was a make-up test for Tom Cruise, etcetera.
At the end of the reading the audience descended on him in large numbers for signings. I looked around the room and caught sight of an old friend I hadn’t seen for years – Caren Rabbino, founder of the Miami Light Project, which is now a cultural staple in the city, though I remember her back at the University of Miami telling me she was thinking of starting it. It was great to see her, as once upon a time we had been close friends. I made my way over to her and we had a happy little reunion. I recalled asking Caren about booking Bogosian years ago and her response about him being already too big; this was obviously before the two times that the Miami Light Project brought him to town (I still have my Nov 11, 1995 ticket from the Broward Center). Shortly after that, she invited me to join her and “Eric,” now an old friend of hers, for dinner. Two other friends were coming along, and we proceeded to Bugati, an Italian place just off Miracle Mile. I was in a great humor, though I was careful not to overdo it. I did take the piss out of Bogosian’s faux Brit accent in “Benefit,” the sketch about the British rock star though, and talk ranged from “command economies” (another of our party had been hosting a reading group based around a new book by an Indian economist) through brain chemistry (a transsexual of his acquaintance claims that now she’s a guy the testosterone really “starts the video rolling” when “he” spots a hottie), the book business, various authors – Eugenides, McEwan – to quaaludes and various forms of excess as practiced in Britan and the US (his description of “real ale” made it clear that to him this was something really exotic). He said “the chains” often set up his readings in the children’s section, “and of course I do all this explicit sex stuff” he laughed. Finally, Bogosian was explaining that when bikers in a certain part of the country wear embroidered white wings it signifies that they’ve been hazed by being made to have sex with a dead person; this seemed to be the cue for the management to turn on the lights and close the place down.
It was a very relaxed dinner and the movie actor-performance artist-playwright-novelist-renaissance man seemed to enjoy himself. He was clearly pleased when I asked him if his hilarious sketch “Stag Night” had been based on a real event. It was gratifying for me to be able to shake his hand and congratulate him on his work. Perhaps artists really are no different from anybody else, but I know that I enjoy being around at least some of them, for all their hang-ups and weirdness. It was a thoroughly satisfying evening.
A restaurant with sophisticated ambiance and plenty of Picasso's original works accompany guests to enjoy their fine French cuisine - a nice place to be ..
which is why i procrastinated and ended up taking a picture of my handy dandy notebook! (name that tv show)
Dr Suess
This is the Captain.
He is upset.
He is a brave seafaring chap who has been documenting his area of the Welsh coast for many a year using photographic means. His pictures adorn many a kitchen wall in the form of calendars and has had numerous appearances in the press and local newspapers.
But a new challenger has sailed in to steal the Captains spoils.
The Man that Grabs Time.
A chance encounter on a stormy night resulted in a boon of popular photographs for the Timegrabber, much to the displeasure of the Captain. Now all the Captain can do is sigh a sad sigh as conversation turns to the now infamous 'Lightning Strikes Pier' shots of legend.
And why is the Captain so displeased?
The man that grabs time is his creation. A young promising fellow whom he groomed in the ways of photography and Flickring.
He has created a Monster.
Zorki 3 "Bufera" (1955)
Jupiter 8 1:2 50mm (1955)
Fuji Neopan 400
Sverdlovsk 6 - 1/100-F4
DD23 Stoekler double bath
Epson V600
Detalhe da gravação | Convite de casamento | 2x0 cores |
Papel Markatto Stile Bianco [Arjo Wiggins] | 320gr |
Orçamentos: contato@letterpressbrasil.com.br
------------- Foto: Marcelo Boca [bocabmx@gmail.com]
History of the 'Success' from: blog.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/2021/03/31/life-onboar...
In 1852 the Success, a merchant ship, arrived in Melbourne. It was the height of Victorian gold rush, and she was abandoned by her crew. An opportunity was quickly seized, as ‘she was acquired by the British Government to serve as a convict hulk at Hobson’s Bay,’ with 72 cells built to accommodate prisoners.
Maurice Downey relates how:
The unfortunate convicts who were confined below in ‘durance vile’ numbered 120, not one of whom escaped, and no wonder, seeing that they were completely at the mercy of 27 inhuman warders, who made their lives a very hell within their ocean habitation. A mere inspection of these cells and the instruments of torture with which they were amply furnished, is sufficient to make one shudder.
The Success was not the only prison hulk at anchor in Hobson’s Bay; she was joined by the President, Lysander, Sacramento and Deborah, to cope with Australia’s overflowing prison population. The Success, however, was notable for the ‘brutalities’ enacted on board, with prisoners subject to punishment by the dreaded cat-of-nine tails, with some receiving ‘as many as 100 lashes…with this hellish device.’
Further means of punishment included:
Leg-irons, spiked iron collars, straight iron jackets, body irons, with hand-cuffs attached, were also used on some of the prisoners doing their sentences on board the Success. The spiked iron collar was a shocking means of punishment, and was so constructed that the wearer was obliged to remain always in a stooping attitude, which induced ill-health in many, and was the cause of death to not a few.
One observer recalled all the horrors of dungeons and prisons from across the world, ‘but not one of these is to be compared in refinement of cruelty and multiplication of horrors to the floating hells of Victoria.’
The Success’s career as a prison hulk came to an end with ‘the dreadful murder of Inspector-General Price by a large number of convicts.’ John Price was murdered by convicts from the Success in 1859, and the Weekly Irish Times notes how:
His murder was the direct means of leading to the abolishing of the hulk system in Australia, and more than one Australian paper stated openly that as he had sown the wind he had reaped the whirlwind.
Meanwhile, in 1868 the system of transportation to Australia finally ceased, but years of abominable cruelty, especially on the hulks, had left their mark on many.
But the Success was not to be left alone, even after she had been converted to a store hulk. In 1890 she was purchased by entrepreneurs with the intent of making her into a floating museum. They installed former Success prisoner Harry Power as a sort of showman for the former prison hulk, as reports The Sketch. The author of The Sketch article, however, is unsupportive of the Success being made into a tourist spectacle:
A curio – interesting indeed; but her weather-worn face and draggled appearance tell us too plainly that she belonged to another age than ours. She has lived her life, done the duty allotted to her; pity it is she cannot be left in peace.
And although she was scuttled in 1891 with the venture being unsuccessful, she was soon after refloated and sent to tour the world, arriving in England in 1894. She was still touring in 1912, when crowds gathered at Cobh, Ireland, ‘to give a parting cheer to the venturous old ship,’ as reports the Suffolk and Essex Free Press. The Success was setting off to cross the Atlantic, where she was exhibited at the Great Lakes and San Francisco, before being sunk in 1918 or 1919, and then again refloated. The Success appeared at the Chicago World Fair in 1933.
C. Fox Smith, writing for Britannia and Eve in 1936, was highly critical of this use of the Success, deeming her display to represent ‘a floating Chamber of Horrors.’ But for many the Success served as a reminder of a supposedly bygone age of cruelty, which saw the torture of prisoners and the creation of ‘heartrending tales’ from the tightly-packed cells.
Ayn Rand - Atlas Shrugged
Signet Books Q1702
Published 1959; 3rd printing (Canadian) 1962
Cover Artist: unknown
Rand referred to Atlas Shrugged as a mystery novel, "not about the murder of man's body, but about the murder – and rebirth – of man's spirit". Her stated goal of writing the text was "to show how desperately the world needs prime movers and how viciously it treats them" and to portray "what happens to a world without them".