Entries with no category
Number 8, if you recall, was to always extinguish your subject. You are instructed to read previous blog for a real hoot.
Here is my rule number nine.
Finally got back into the darkroom (read: microscopic downstairs half bath, even more so for one with my generous girth) for the first time in a couple of months for a printing session. Decided to do things a little differently. I have been looking at the work I have done the last two years by guessing at negatives
As I sit and stare and ponder
On this life through which I wander,
Oft I find myself adrift on
Many a varying theme.
On one day it may be warm hugs.
On the next, maybe a thought tugs
From the edge of my own thoughts, out
From the depths of dreams.
And the days are few.
I may be well, I may be broken.
I might be shut or widely open.
'Tis possible I'm in the room,
Or perhaps far away.
Well, school starts for the kids next Tuesday. And that means one thing.
In about two weeks I'm gonna be sick as a dog.
Happens every year. Over a thousand children assemble after a summer-long seperation and get ready for share time. Hitting each other playfully, saying things forcefully (spitting), rubbing noses before opening doors, you name it. And my two wonderful and lovely children, the young one for whom I have selflessly sacrificed myself so that they could
I was reading hoffy's post regarding long term photography projects and it got me to thinking.
I have printed in two months. I haven't processed any film in as long. I haven't made many photographs in the last month or so. And yesterday was the first time in months when a camera did not accompany on my trip to work. CiM is kind of stalling right now as there is nothing to put in the September issue. And I have lost the urge to chase down material for publishing.
Updated 08-08-2009 at 03:39 PM by Christopher Walrath
Well, today I met my brother at his mother-in-law's house to help him move some of her furniture out to sheds. She's getting her carpet redone. Well, it didn't take long and it wasn't hard work. But she insisted on paying us. She handed me $50 and I immediately said 'No!' I was more than happy to help. She said to take it or she'd beat me. I looked at Ron askance and he said she would fuss until I took it. I relented. 'This is for the last time (helped before), this time and the next time