QuiltedDogs requested more Scrappy photos, so here is one from putzing around the house this weekend:
He sat still for a few seconds before wanting to wrestle. Taken with the 50mm f/1.8 and an SB-600 flash (wireless TTL is nice) to camera left.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Pic of the day
Sometimes you have to go out on a limb to achieve your goals. You stand at the precipice with an unknown depth below you and wonder if it is worth it? Are your dreams worth the chance of diving into the shallows? Are they worth the chance of diving into the deep?
Sam, getting some pictures at the mine last night.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Pic of the day
I’m running late. The light disappears like a wisp of smoke. One moment the color is there, the next; it’s gone. I’m fighting a losing battle. No tripod and no light. The images aren’t what I would like them to be:
Senator mine at dusk. Will be going back now that I have bought a tripod. :)
Friday, August 21, 2009
Because it’s been almost a whole friday
without something funny. So here is a guy trying to eat eat breakfast while his arm is being constantly electrically shocked.
Pic of the day
Camouflaged in the wild:
A little horned toad. The EXACT same color as the rocks he was sitting on.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Throw me the statue
Me likey:
From Chase Jarvis’s blog, part of the newest ‘Songs for Eating and Drinking’
Pic of the day
He looked down on me with sympathy. He held out is hand in an offer of assistance. But he was too high, out of reach. I cannot grasp his proffered hand.
Another shot of the church in Flagstaff.
Just a short break
I show up just in time to catch the last few seconds of a song. The regular Wednesday band is missing, and in their place stands a lone man. He wears a straw cowboy hat that is dirty from constant wear, and plays the guitar like he’s been doing it forever. He sings seemingly to himself, as though the audience doesn’t exist. It’s almost true.
The place is nearly deserted. Tonight’s turnout consists a few of the die-hard regulars who sit and chat with one another. The bartender yawns as he watches a baseball game on the small television behind the bar. I order, and he manages to get it wrong. Oranges instead of lemons. His mind is in a different place, and I don’t care enough to correct him.
"I’m going to take a short break, and when I come back my friend Dallas will be playing with me.”
It’s eight o’clock, and I sit and chat with a few of the regulars. I talk to a man who’s new in town. A doctor whom was born and raised in Iran, and will soon be opening his own practice in town. He says Prescott felt like home the first time he drove through. It’s his first night out, and he is loving life.
It’s forty five minutes before the Dave and Dallas duo take the stage. If that’s a short break, I’d hate to see a long one.
Dallas, playing the mandolin, adds depth to the guitar. They play songs that seem familiar, like I should know the words even though I don’t. I’ve never seen somebody play the mandolin and the sight leaves me mildly awestruck. He plays a different song entirely, and yet it picks up the guitar, fills the voids between notes. Maybe it’s just the fuzziness from the beer, but I am enraptured by the sounds. Ten o’clock rolls around entirely too quickly, and the music stops.
Time to go. My alarm clock will be going off in six short hours, and I still have some chores to do at home.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Pic of the day
Nikki has a surplus of fruit falling around her house. This is what I found when I visited her:
Puckets of Rundam
My reader overfloweth with awesome this morning:
- Probably the best 365 project I’ve ever seen. (via UtterlyBoring.com)
- 100 Ridiculous college courses. (via Presurfer)
- My Persona (via Presurfer):
- Dog, blown off of pier, saved by stranger. (via Bits&Pieces)
- McAwesome little Guitar Player:
(via Bits&Pieces)
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Graffiti in Flagstaff
You all know I love graffiti. So here is some from downtown Flagstaff.
A wall dedicated to the spray can art:
Back alley patriotism. Ironically painted onto a government building:
Built up, ripped off, forgotten:
Railcar art:
And another from the rail yard:
Slightly more subtle defacement, and infinitely more entertaining:
And of course, the socially acceptable type of graffiti:
A little Ark action:
And my personal favorite. Something about the bandaged knee:
Pic of the day
Love is found in odd places. In the depths of a book. In the simple gestures of those close to you. In the way light illuminates the world before you. Look for it everywhere, and there you will find it.
A little love at the parking garage.
Monday, August 17, 2009
On Judgment
More randomness:
We are constantly in a state of judgment against others. We judge them against ourselves and against our ideals. We impose our desires on others and then shun them for not being desirous. How can they not want what is obviously so important (to us)? How can they be so dense as to not realize the paradise that awaits them if they begin to idolize the things that we do? Don't they see?
How could they not want to be successful? Rich? Beautiful? How could they not want a new shiny car? A house? Nice clothes? Who doesn't want to be surrounded by success?
It becomes harder to judge when you recognize this projection of yourself onto the image of others. You can no longer impose your paradigm onto the world at large, and by that loss your eyes are opened to the beauty of the individuals. Each person is beautiful. Each person is perfect.
Pic of the day
Went to Flagstaff for a bit of photowalking Sunday. Spotted this church:
I loved all the pink stone.
3 exposure handheld HDR.
Another fire burns
What might be the Raptor Fire?
EDIT: Looks like it might be the Taylor Fire, not listed yet on InciWeb?:
Spotted yesterday on a drive back from Flagstaff. I stopped in Jerome to see sis, and caught sight of this monster in the distance:
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