So, what will the year bring? I don’t want to be sick, but I cannot do anything except hope my white cells increase and I don’t need to use them. I want to travel, see things and photograph more people, including myself. Surprise me, I say.
SO, you want to do good and you work for a racist bully, liar, scheming, mentally ill, selfish cretin who believes that Nazism has a right to be heard and that people should be lauded for exercising their right to protest the removal of a statue honoring a treasonous slave owner whose conduct cost the lives of 600,000 or so Americans. You know that you have the power to change America for the better and won’t be able to do it if you continue to support him. WHY DON’T YOU RESIGN?
There are no good Nazis. And by abiding him, standing next to him, without walking away or expressing outrage, either immediately or soon after, you missed a chance to show moral outrage. Your silence affirmed the fact you support an evil President. Hold him accountable or resign.
These two baboons lead the country. Neither were elected by the people. They see only their images and listen only to their own ideas, except when DeVos or Murcer pays for others. Their views were born in the dark ages and so long as everyone dies, especially Muslims, people of color and those who lack resources to care for themselves and not rely on Government, the universe will be ok.
It’s worth the read. So is today’s NYT article. As Trump would advise us, you need to know the enemy.
Gene Joyner build a rain forest in West Palm Beach that few have visited. Called Unbelievable Acres Botanic Gardens, it is open to the public by appointment or on select tour dates. Featuring rare tropical fruits, foliage plants, flowers, trees and a host of other botanical creatures, many of which you have not seen. Running around are a host of reptiles that love the heat and humidity, in addition to a bountiful supply of bugs. Its a treasure.
This leaf has a name. I cannot remember all Gene taught me. Years ago, he was the botanist for the State of Florida. This garden/rain forest was built from scratch, by him. You have never seen anything like it.
In 2015, I attended a photo workshop in Paris with Peter Turnley. We went to John Morris’s apartment, looked at his images and books, listened to his stories. Then we went to dinner at a cute place on rue St. Louis. Nobody knew who he was.
Through his work, John G. Morris allowed us to see places and get close to people we would not have otherwise known. In doing this, he taught us to see. Think about all the great photographers he knew: Chim, Cappa, Cartier-Bresson, all the giants.
A debt is owed to all photojournalists, especially the ones who gave their lives to help us understand man’s humanity to man, apologies to those who would find this politically incorrect.
This statue in Pere Lachaise doesn’t cost a cent to see. It’s haunting memory brings sights and smells of the Holocaust to your senses without charge. To make visits to the shrines of dead jews the equivalent of paying to ride at an amusement park devalues the debt humanity owes the dead.
With all the money in the world spent on campaigns to elect people or to promote international sports or to get people to fritter their money away at gambling casinos, one might think that some things are too deserving of veneration to be commercialized. Not if you are Trumpian.
Charging to see the artifacts of death from Aushwitz and making a profit offends me. No charge to see the memorial in Miami. No charge in Berlin. No charge in Berlin. And, when we went to Stutthoff, a work camp in Poland, we went in free. October, we are going to Terezin. I will let you know.
I don’t do fund raising, but give to the cause of preserving the memories of the dead for all, especially those without the funds. Some of these financially challenged might be dissuaded from turning to killing to earn a living.
Being museum rats that we are, Sharon Duckman and I went to an Atget show at the Norton Museum. Because of the construction of a new wing (a condition which makes it free), we entered through the main entrance, as opposed to the one near the parking lot, strange and true. As far as we know, Donny and the clan didn’t make a donation.
On each side of the door way, were two Paul Manship sculptures which I had never studied, let alone paid any attention to. You may be familiar with his work, if you ever visited Rockefeller Center and looked at Prometheus. Manship ranks at one of America’s most treasured sculptors on a par with Daniel Chester French.
So, while museum visits are part of our normal stretch, we have increased our visits to cultural sites to drown out the noise on TV and the words in print about our country’s Constitutional Crisis. Everything seems to turn into a discussion about Donald the Romanov and the royal family Trump. Why should this be any different?
The sculpture here features Diana. While bathing in the nude, she was observed by a mortal hunter, Actaeon. Sort of like being groped, eh. She turned him into a stag and let her dogs rip him apart.
I will get the dog’s picture on the next trip.
What I really need to do is stick to a fitness plan. When I travel or shoot, I am moving. To keep abreast of the worlds of photography, US Government and art, including movies, books and museums, I sit. While my knowledge grows, my health suffers. Mmmmm.
This guy works at PURLIFE, a gym for the healthy in Del Ray. Too far to drive. 1/2 hour in the car for exercise leads to more sitting, even though NPR or a podcast is on the radio which defeats ignorance. Tough choices. I will go for a walk.
So I walk around with a camera, using it to document the race, humans etc. It may not make me smarter or stronger, but I feel better about life. Meeting and talking with others makes me less stupid and more aware how we are all different. I don’t ask for stories. I ask if I can help. Felix didn’t want help. He said he was ready to die. No one knows for sure, if he went. I learned when I went to the food pantry and my images of him were on the door. Last people heard, he had been taken to a hospice.
Felix lived here, right off the highway. He lived in the woods. He could have had a place if he wanted one.
His front yard.
Garage and reading room.