More Vernacular Photos- The Creepy Guy

His name isn't on any of the photos but the prom pictures were taken in Coral Gables, Florida and he was stationed in '67 at Camp Pendelton Marine Corp. base in California. He probably served in Viet Nam.

This guy just gives me The Willies! He looks like a "Norman" to me.

I'm not being nice to the poor fellow, he was probably just self-conscious of his ears and crooked teeth.

Mi Casita

Friday Night

I spent a lovely, summer-like (wtf) evening at the studio drinking some cold beers, taking photographs, while listening to flamenco. It got so hot that I scrounged in the closet of costumes and put on my grandmothers' old strapless bra.

Next month I will have had the place for 10 years. It has always been a haven for me in both good and bad times in my life. Sometimes I just sit there and let it envelop me with its' warmth and memories and other times it pushes me to be creative. It is surely haunted having once been a speak-easy, brothel, gambling parlour, and jazz club in the 50's. Myself and others have had many a strange "encounter" there but I have always felt welcome.

I shot some images for The Spooky Show, although I am keeping them a secret until the show so you will just have to come to it or check back afterwards!

Call 4 Entries

Maio and Nita and Zita

I met Maio for beers at a local pub on Monday night along with an old, dear friend of ours. I hadn't seen her since she moved to New York to attend culinary school 18 years ago. She owns her second restaurant in Brooklyn and looks exactly the same. She was always a gorgeous siren.

We met in a college art class, became friends, and even travelled overseas together. The last experience had many great highs and lows, Amsterdam, Madrid, Munchen, Eos, Galway, and Fez, to name a few of the amazing places we visited.

Some people you never forget and when you see them after many years it is as if they had never been away, probably because they are always in your memories and your heart. Maio and I met again on Tuesday for a little more catch-up and some sparkling wine and photos in her mothers backyard.

She put on an old dress, scarf and shoes that she had purchased in New Orleans at an antique store many years ago. They were a part of the estate of Nita and Zita, two Hungarian sisters who had travelled the world doing their form of exotic and acrobatic dancing in the 1920's. They were known as the Gypsy Sisters in New Orleans where they settled in the late 1940's and gave dance and fitness classes in their house on Dauphine St. that they had painted inside and out as well as everything inside. I am thrilled that Maio gave these items to me!

Our time was too short, I need to find a way to get to N.Y.!

I think I may be talking to myself

Rarely do people comment on my postings. That was fine when I hadn't told anyone about this blog thing but now that it's sort of "out" I'm thinking that this is very much like having a one-sided conversation, talking to myself kind of thing. My life really isn't that interesting so why should anyone else think otherwise? I have 7 followers, 2 of which are me (haven't figured out how to delete my selves).

So, in the spirit in which I started doing this, I shall continue to think of it as a journal and not a measurement of whether I am "followed" or interesting or relevant. If those markers of likability were that important to my ego then I should start a blog soley focusing on one thing like the life of my cat or close-up photos of flowers or really pretty pictures of rich peoples interior decor- then I might have 1001 folks checking the blog each morning while drinking their first cup of coffee.

People love to get lost in other worlds, prettier worlds- to escape the harsh realities or just the doldrums of the lives most of us live. I like gorgeous places, if only on my computer monitor, but admit to being a little peeved that some have the time and lots and lots of money to visit and live in paradise. Show offs!

Well, I have my own smallish bit of Eden and find beauty in it every day. I'm okay, really, just a bit of the old insomnia (perhaps old insecurities?).

Found Photos

Fergi the family ham

Elizabeth at 13 years and Ricky at 3 years old

Taken in 1936 aug.14.

our Billy boy

at 2.- years

1928

Morrison

Viola on steps of hospitol

Bruce Cannon

2 yrs 1952

After having worked in and owned a camera shop for nearly 20 years and being the yard/rummage/ephemera sale junkie I am, I have boxes of other peoples old photographs.

These images are what are referred to as "vernacular", taken by amateurs of every day life. They are reminders of what was and still is precious.

I have looked at them so often that these people now feel like family. Just as when I was a child going thru albums and boxes of family photos and gazed at the faces of relatives long since dead and yet I knew that they belonged to me, I was made of them.

The generations of children to come won't have that same connection to the past as it is not likely that they will be browsing thru their parents' old cd's and hard drives years from now as they seek out their family's past.

People just don't make prints like they used to. "Back in the day" whole rolls of film were printed, today we pick and choose and edit the hell out of our photos. And then, maybe, one or two will be printed. Someday our cars and clothes and so many other things we take for granted now will seem very old-fashioned and quaint. Make prints, keep them, pass them down cuz' -These are the good old days!