fun with flickr

In search of new procrastination techniques??? I am being sucked shamelessly into the world of web publishing photographs, and what, after all, are photos for, if not sharing?

In my defense, I read the whole first nine chapters of the Hagiography of Teresa de Avila, so there.

I have been exploring all of the possibilities and adding lots of new pictures, some of which will show up here, but that might get boring, oh I don't know, it will avoid real work a little longer. I am actually really excited about this because if I were a visual artist (meaning if I really had talent) I would be a photographer. I remember so fondly the smell of silver nitrate in the depths of my parents basement on Meadow Lane, the house that I convinced them to buy because I had an unbearable crush on the much older neighbor, a dark and swarthy twin to his brother's blond beauty. Of course this didn't come into play in my outwardly verbalized reasoning with them, but I even got the bedroom that had a direct line of sight into their yard and I could always keep tabs on Steve's comings and goings. Of course the times that he picked me up on my walk home from school in his white marshmallowy Ford something with his soccer buddies I always failed to perform the aloof and mysterious part that I practiced, the one that would intrigue him enough to seek me out, 18-year-old him and 13-year-old me. Needless to say, it never happened. But then we visited his family at their house in the Florida Keys, and 19-year-old me was so over it, he had that horrible post college beer paunch and he was much shorter than I remembered.

But I digress. I spent so many solitary hours in the darkroom developing film and then watching as the image revealed itself in all its mystical power. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed the manipulation of images. Now I will never match M.'s plastic ability, nor his Photoshop prowess, but I will be proud of my almost totally organic shots that now will not destroy the environment in their revelation.