Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Boing Boing just published an web article (by Xeni Jarden) on a Museum in Montreal dedicated to a family of “short stature.” The permalink is here; http://www.boingboing.net/2007/07/30/weird_1940s_tourist_.html
I visited there about 20 years ago, while staying with friends in Montreal. The picture above is from the Son’s room (taken on Kodachrome), who evidently was born without the genetic complexities of his parents. Here is a zoomed in image of the Father and Son in a photographic hung on the wall;
The story spelled out on several wall plaques was; the original couple worked and earned money in the circus for many years. They ended up wealthy for the time, through savings and investments. They bought the house and various other properties in Montreal. The house was precisely constructed to size; beds, commodes, etc. When they had their son, they added the room in the photograph, which is scaled for his size. He was of “ordinary” height.
The main attraction to the museum (although called “Palais” in advertisements) was the rooms and the antique décor.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Here’s the most recent of the Car Series. Clicking will bring up a larger view. Here’s the earlier post on the thoughts behind it.
You are separated in this chamber of glass and steel, in a blanket of sounds from the stereo, watching with a certain detachment to the bumper in front of you.
Friday, July 13, 2007
My Documents/My Pictures/My Head
I woke at 4 a.m. and started musing on what to do next. And then this thought appeared. The thought was; I’ve always been looking for “something else.” Whatever the situation, with self or circumstance, I always looked for the next step. Something more.
It’s a simple formula for striving. It’s almost a snippet of programming language.
my car is driving me crazy, it’s in the shop again . . .
I need this, I get it. My cars fixed, I feel good about it for a millisecond, then some other item gets loaded . . .
Just think of a bunch of beings all programmed in this manner. . . They could eat up a small planet in a short time.
Where I was, who I am, was never enough. I always needed something else. And when that something else was found, it became another starting point for seeking once again. And so on. . .
Return to Start
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I took this set of photos using an unusual method. It was taken on TRI-X 35 mm film of friends from work, but the film was run through the camera twice. This resulted in double exposures. I didn’t expect much but mud from the experiment. But, I’ve grown to enjoy the changing expressions and the odd way the images combined. Of course, I know everyone’s story too, and the pictures reflect who they are fairly well.
I’ve split the strip into parts rather than trying to put the whole length on one line.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Shentai - The Kindled Flame
The Unwelcome Overture
I caught “Shentai” last week, at the exquisite, nearly open-air venue called Frank IX. This was my first experience with the sort of fringe festival put on by the Zen Monkey Project, and a few other groups.
The Frank IX building is in itself an experience. It’s a really large ex-textile factory of two stories (although the second story is at least twice the height of the first) with also huge window spaces. They really are spaces as all the traces of the original windows, frames and all, are missing. No kids are allowed, which is good, considering the windows.
It’s a theatre experience more like the “fringe festival” than anything else I can think of. Think: surreal humor. There’s a way that it really adds something to Charlottesville’s art credentials.
In particular, a play (Dido vs. the Squid Monster) had a great sense of pacing, excellent acting. Very funny. The real kicker is the fire dancing at the end of the night. Hey, fire dancing is exciting by nature, but the dancers also had grace and presence.
Christian Breeden fronts some of the spectacles, and keeps a running/flaming presence going during the final conflagration.
I can only hope the performers don’t tire of this, at least for a few years.