Sunday, October 30, 2005

on the eve of all saints

i was going to grumble on and on - after stumbling, a few weeks ago, upon a garden
piled high with pumpkins, price-tagged every one - about the merchant mentality that turns other people's traditions into money-making enterprises.
but i'm tired (i know, i sound like a broken record), and tomorrow the orange streamers and the fake spiderwebs will be tucked away till next october, and i suppose i shouldn't begrudge anyone their fun and profit...
as long as they keep their hands off thanksgiving.
happy hallowe'en!

Monday, October 24, 2005


i'm still dealing with the newness, with the commute, with the four-in-the-morning-wake-up-calls one day and the two-in-the-morning-bedtimes the next.
bear with me.
and in the meantime: my links - all of them - are more than worthwhile.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

from china with love

between being slightly overwhelmed by my (great) new job, and distinctly overwhelmed by a nasty flu, i haven't had the time or energy for a lot of important-to-me things.
i did manage, though, to spend a splendid evening (smiles and recognition and endless camera-talk) with the wonderful tomo in amsterdam last week...
and i did manage to pick up some developed and printed test rolls from a couple of new/old cameras.
these two images are from a great wall DF-2 which my husband, sweet person that he is, negotiated at a beijing market stall during his recent holiday in china. i confess: my inexperience with the waist-level viewfinder had me waving the thing wildly in all directions, much to the puzzlement of passers-by, but i am not displeased with the results.
my second oriental souvenir was a seagull TLR, which turned out, like the great wall, to be in delectable working order - and it smells ravishing - but i'll save its little efforts for another day.

Friday, October 7, 2005

a kind of a hush

all is past, he tells her, all is healing, all is well; in his eyes, though, transparent and blue, is a sadness that belies his story.
circumstance has tatted his existence into a mystifying intricacy, and she wants to reach, touch, reassure him: that someday, though the curtain may stay draped, he
will see the fineness of the filaments and not the empty grimness in between.