This photograph is from last week’s primary election here in DC. These are campaign workers outside my local polling place.
It is worth stopping to be grateful for our democracy. As Churchill noted, democracy is the worst form of government… except for all the others. Peaceful transition of power, directed by those who care enough to be bothered to go to the polls, is a luxury that a vast number of the world’s population does not enjoy.
Be one of those who participates.
Just a reminder to myself to keep moving forward.
I am a noticer, I am generally attentive to what’s going on around me; that’s why I can usually find something beautiful in my environment. I feel blessed to have that particular quirk of personality.
It has a downside, though, which I like to call the “ooo, shiny!” factor. There are so many things I find lovely or intriguing or interesting or compelling. My head is always buzzing with possibilities and alternatives.
Right now, I have a serious need to stay the course in one particular direction. This is hard for me. But if I don’t do this, now, I may not have the opportunity to be detoured and delighted by the myriad wonders of the world later.
I simply must keep my eyes on the prize.
The weather is perfect today. Rather than be out in it, I’m striving to bring some order to my living- and work-space indoors. So the image for today is a blast from the past: the view out to the beach from a rental house on the Outer Banks, many years ago. I have never been much of a beach bunny (I don’t like baking in the sun), but I enjoyed my stays in Nags Head tremendously.
The photo was shot with a one-megapixel Elph, the first digital camera I ever owned. Although the image quality is marginal, for me the picture perfectly evokes that summer feeling of relaxation and anticipatory indolence.
Autumn is here. I expect to be working very hard now. This is by way of a note to myself: try to get to the Outer Banks next season.
This was incredibly quick and easy. It’s not often that you make something with minimal angst that then proves unexpectedly satisfactory.
This is a simple lace stitch—Feather & Fan—with a moss border. The only difference between the ends of the scarf and the main body is the addition of an alternating row of stockinette. The yarn is a delightfully crunchy, but non-itchy 45% wool / 35% silk / 20% nylon blend made in Italy and calling itself Elsebeth Lavold Silky Wool Yarn
I don’t think I’m going to block this scarf; I rather like the curls and ridges the way they are. I expect to get a ton of use from it, come winter.
I happened across this “review” of Umberto Eco’s History of Beauty.
Since I intend, at some point, to deliver up my own manifesto on the topic of Beauty, I read the article with interest. It offers a number of reading suggestions that I’ll want to follow up on, especially Oscar Wilde
It’s a good prompt for an essay, don’t you think?
I used to photograph people all the time, but since taking up the camera again in the last year or so I haven’t spent much time making portraits. In my first incarnation as a professional photographer, portraits were my bread and butter—not the formal studio type, but so-called “environmental portraits,” people in their own contexts. It was a documentary, photojournalistic style.
A good photograph of a person requires a certain intimacy. There must be a connection of some sort. A portrait is a collaboration and an exchange. If you are out of practice, it can be difficult to remember how to establish that rapport. It’s something that definitely get easier the more you do it.
This is my friend Joey, one of the nicest men I know. He manages a toy store, which seems to me to be the perfect job for him. This picture was shot at night, wide open at ISO 800, and it’s noisy as hell. Despite its technical demerits, I like it; it shows something true about Joey and has a sort of old-master murk to it that appeals to me.
Many of my readers may not know that I have a graduate degree, an MFA in Visual Studies. “Visual Studies” was an omnibus term that basically meant “photography +…” some other stuff: image sequences, criticism, artist’s books, even—in my case—early forays into interactive media (the late lamented Hypercard FTW!). Recently I’ve been wading through the archives of my graduate work, with a view to keeping what’s interesting, worthy, or recyclable and ditching the rest.
It’s been curious to discover how my aesthetic sensibilities have changed in the intervening years. I think I’m considerably less impressed with myself and my intellectual prowess now than I was then. A lot of what I made at that time comes across as ridiculously self-indulgent and/or art-worldy-inside-baseball. On the other hand, I’m struck by the spirit of playfulness and experimentation in some of it, a kind of reckless bravery that’s rather endearing. There are a few things that strike me as quite good, but just a few.
This picture is one I never would have taken in graduate school. I wouldn’t have paused to notice the compressed layering of textures, the strikingly different morphology of three plants all called “trees,” the wide spectrum encompassed by the term “green.” The composition would have felt insufficiently innovative, and the lushness of the subject matter excessively bourgeois. I would have felt obliged to save my film for something more important.
Ah, youth.
Today, I am content to have created this tranquil, formal image. In maturing, have I lost my edge or simply gained a renewed appreciation for classical virtues?
I remember hearing about the creation of the Rosedale Conservancy nearly a decade ago. Since I’m not a home-owner, it wasn’t something that I paid a great deal of attention to. My perception was that there was a sort of NIMBYesque feel to the proceedings. Today, for the first time, I actually checked the property out. (Mind you, I’ve lived in this neighborhood for 17 years, and walked or driven past this spot at least a gazillion times. Better late than never, I say!)
It’s lovely. Neighborhood dogs can frolic unleashed on it during designated hours. Two private homes sit directly on it, and essentially share their extended front yards with the community. It’s a testimony to the healthy mix of wealth and civic-mindedness—and perhaps some NIMBYism too—in this area that private parties were able to come up with $12 million to make this happen.
A Year Ago: Corrosive Beauty
I love urban metal artifacts. They are the mark of human handiwork… [read more]
Beauty isn’t always pretty. Or easy. But it is, I believe, essential. We are not human without our appreciation for beauty.
I started Something Beautiful a year ago today. I needed it to help me appreciate the wonder and glory of life at a time when I was demoralized and directionless. The ongoing focus on all there is to appreciate in the world around me—and the discipline of daily posting—have rewarded me with an unexpected sense of purpose. The continual, conscious act of wonder has renewed my spirit.
I am growing again (however scarred and lumpy I may be) and for that I am tremendously grateful. In the coming weeks and months I expect to stretch further in unfamiliar ways.
I hope you all will join me for another year of Something Beautiful.
Gothic cathedrals are wonderful, and I’m a big fan of stained glass windows. But the works of humankind are put into the shade by the glowing interior of an orchid.
Some of the textile designs I’m working on now are taking as source and inspiration photographs I made at the National Botanical Garden’s orchid show in years past.