An Afternoon Affair I

I recently had an hour to just wander the streets and managed to get a couple of shots. It’s been awhile since I’ve really spent time shooting. I think I might be losing it. Oh well.

Wanted to try a different style of editing this round. So here we go.

Millions and millions of years would still not give me half enough time
to describe that tiny instant of all eternity
when you put your arms around me
and I put my arms around you.
- Jacques Prévert

This quote was kindly brought to you by SS.

Passage.

Spiders. Some of you hate it so much you’ve probably closed the page by now. For those still here, I don’t really have a fondness or distaste for them – until they invade my space, then retribution is visited on their hairy heads. This one lives down the road upon a giant stair frame. Its sheer size caught my attention (it is bigger than my palm from end to end) as it flapped around using its web as a kite on one of those windy days.

I don’t know much about spiders, according to the locals this one is a Golden Orb Weaver. A friendly non-poisonous spider capable of growing to sizes that allows it to take down a small bird. Maybe that’s the reason for the flying lessons mentioned earlier.

Like a spider on the web of life, Time devours all things.
From forgotten firsts to the final light it swallows every change.
The smiles and tears and simple fears we keep locked away,
in memory, print or parchment to help survive the day,
Is gnawed and nibbled often by Time and ourselves no less,
till all is but an illusion like the lines of a tailored dress.
Alas! Each trembling thread tumbles towards its terrible embrace.
To realise when Time’s unmasked it is Death we face.

Adapted from Ovid’s “Tempus edax rerum “

Seagull Management

During a adrenaline high conversation with a friend D he dropped this gem.

Seagull Management:

The boss flies in.
Makes a hell lot of noise.
Shits on everything.
Flies off.

Moving.

Hello all,

Moving has been pure and utter shite. It’s nice to have new shiny stuff, but the process of getting it up with this slug-on-weed-slow connection from Starhub is like slitting your wrist with a spork. My Host might want to blame herself, but hey you’re not the CTO of Starhub, so you’re forgiven.

The good news is most of the recent shots are up, the bad news is if you somehow miss my older shots, you’ll have to bear with me – my annoyance with miserable technology limits my work speed.

In other good or bad news, you might see more writing come up in the next few weeks because that’s my personal project for this winter/summer.

Love,

Snarks.

PS: To the staff at Coffee Club at Wheelock Place. Harden the f^^k up and smile, you’re in the service line. You’re not Jason Statham in Transporter or Sylvester Stallone in Rocky, so get your heads out of your asses and shelve the deadpan voices and ice cool attitudes.

Untimely Death.

Dear All,

Due to the sudden and brutal death of my Host’s domain, this blog will be buried within the week. It will be resurrected over the weekend and early next week on a new garden trough that is penciledlines.com. Be sure to come visit us there, if you have enjoyed the photos and random words so far.

Love,

Snarks

Update:

Well, now that we have moved to penciledplaces.com, the quest for a new theme and layout has begun! Stay tuned for more oddball changes in the coming days.

52.26 When all we knew was wonderous.

52.26

“…When I can look at life in the eyes,
Grown calm and coldly wise,
Life would have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange – my youth.”

- Sara Teasdale, Wisdom

52.21

This is a continuation of the sudden need to work on architecture shots.
My editor said she would have known I shot this photo even if she were deaf. Blind. You get the point.

The unique stylistics of each photographer is their brand. What do you guys think?

52.21

This captured the stillness of the morning for me. Somehow.

52.20 Intimidation

I figure that my architecture shots need some work.
This will be the first of many.

52.20

That is not a big speck of dust.
It’s a pigeon.

52.15,16,17,18 Plunge.

It’s one of those times when none of my photos ever look right, and I have no idea what i have done.
Be forewarned. They induced only revulsion for me.

52.15

Pointless.

52.16

Soulless.

52.17

Clueless.

52.18

Feckless.

The realisation that these were the best shots I had in my last few shoots is priceless. My gear might be at its limit, but the awfulness I can solicit from it is boundless.

A week of being under.

*Grumble, grumble, grumblE, GRUMBLE*

S coughed IN MY FACE last Sunday. The unfortunate coincidence of having a sleep deprived immune system and that S is a bacteria incubating machine who I am genetically related to, resulted in the grand prize winner of being ill for a week. It was not a surprise the illness shared great similarities with S. Mildly annoying and highly persistent.

On to other news, The Super Ring Thief who stole a significant portion of my stash have been constantly taunting me over the phone. Slowly killing of each hostage Super Ring packet and updating me on how many survivors still remained.

No one kills my Super Ring subjects.
No one but me.
Watch out Super Ring Thief!

Alright people, no more nonsense. Here’s this week’s addition to P 52. I couldn’t decide which photo to use. Soooooo i’m gonna cheat and post two. I should seriously learn how to put in a poll thingy into the post and see which one you Pee 52 guys prefer.

Without further ado, we introduce you to:

52.3a

and 52.3b

I really couldn’t decide between the lovely colour in 52.3a that seemed to match what I’ve been putting up the past two weeks vs the story element in 52.3b which i like that 52.1 had. It is perplexing. As always would love to hear from you guys. And yes I shall hunt down you Pee 52ers and try to give my 2 cents.

My Host suggested that i should pry open my cold, dead and miserly fingers and contribute constructive comments to others if I want some too. How about some germs? Anyone wants some?