Nicol Graduates HIgh School


Niclole graduates from high school next week. Will be in Israel, so I will miss it. Damn. How proud we all should be of her. And, as is said about me, what is next? My admission to Hallmark Institute of Photography has been held up, even though I received an letter of acceptance. It seems that the prep school I attended lost the records of my attendance and graduation. They offered a yearbook picture, which Hallmark rejected. I had to write to Penn’s registrar for proof of college attendance and graduation as a substitute.

The Yankees Loooose, the Yankees Loooose


A-Rod and Jeta had chances to make their legends grow. Big strikeouts in big events in the big ballpark in the South Bronx offered opportunities that ballplayers live for. Beyond their primes and overmatched, they failed, as predicted by the baseball gods who know when players should hang up their cleats. Sterling, who was featured in last weeks NYT, didn’t get to do his call.

But, baseball doesn’t end because the Yankees lose for this fan who also loves the game. How about that Philly/Cards game, sportsfans. And, in today’s NYT, Ken Belson images the “Fat Toad,” making me long for more.

Highland Cemetery, Greenfield MA

 

Beck’s grave. A gnome with a shovel on a gravestone.

Mathey served as a fireman, though I thought the hydrant might have been a symbol that he liked to walk his dog.

Meriott hunted.

Conant lived here.

What anniversary? Put a photo on a grave? Not mine. But, perhaps, there should be a link to a web page with more images of them, so we could see them in real life.

 

 

Sunday Around The Park In Burlington

A little early for Nicole.

Jimmy told Richard, “you are too drunk, too early.”

Rouche styling.  Labels. Signs. Haircut.

Keith put on this red chapeau for a trip to the tobacco store.

“No crying on Church St,” a passerby said.

Maybe Greg likes Rick Perry?

 

Paul Like Tigers


So, he likes Tigers, the Detroit ones and the Bengals. A little too drunk to distinguish the two, but he acknowledged that having a reflector, held by Eric, shining on him, required me to pay him $3000 for the shot. He never read Moon Tiger, though.

“Mrs. Duckman, ….” Eric calls me, especially when he lectures me.

Quite an accomplishment for a photographer to have my street models hold a light shaper, eh!

Now, I just have to learn how to teach them how to use the equipment.

Nor’Easter on Lake Champlain

 

Lake Champlain has the capacity to take a beating and come back with a roar. Its magic and beauty have captivated, motivated and fascinated people for centuries. And that is a lot of effort over a long time. But this summer, mountains, errrr, climbing walls have come to the Lake, giving it a chance to show a new dynamic. Almost biblical, think about it, the mountains have come to the Lake.

Check out the Nor’Easter festival this weekend, September 23 through September 25. Rock climbing, running, boating, and cyclecross. A music festival featuring an eclectic mix of bands and sounds. A chance to aid flood victims through a costumed fun-run. Like, dude, what else could you want for the last weekend of summer?

 

 

 

 

Paul Ages

Great thanks to Paul’s sister, Mary, who keeps part of her eye on her brother through this blog, for sending me this image. He did ask for you upon his return, asking that I tell  you where he was at. His surprise that I had informed you that he was incarcerated at St Albans, lacked understanding of our relationships: yours and mine; his and mine; and the power of blogs.

Photographers, especially documentary/portraitists look at their work in search of increased understanding of individual people, as well as the human race, in general. That is quite a span in which to find a focus. Every portrait forces me to look at the person, an exercise which can start with the easiest question, like where was this shot made or when and why. But, at some level, I just look at the portraits, knowing they have recorded a life living.

So, he spent 31 days in jail. What a waste. “Nothing much to do there,” he said. Missed the Labor Day Weekend in Burlington. People on the street said it was for a failure to appear; others said his public presence and sanitary practices posed a problem. He had built up a series of unspectacular violations of the public order and couldn’t or didn’t show up in court to answer them. He went in, because there are only  a few ways the system can respond to uncooperative citizens who disrupt the peace in the main urban glen in Chittenden County.

Still complaining, he returned to the spot where he hangs, starting the same cycle of present life again, and continuing to age. Yeh, they pick on you. Yeh, you have been underserved. Now what? It be getting cold, again. “Hey, yunno, there aren’t a lot of people walking down this street. Getting more difficult to make a living out here.”