Urban Exploration is something that I love to do, but rarely get the chance. I've been jonesing to go into the abandoned Canon Memorial Hospital in Banner Elk for about 3 years, and I finally did yesterday. Check out the set of pictures here.
How many wedding receptions have you been to that included a pig pickin', dancing on a flatbed, hula hooping, inner tubing, and photo fun in the middle of the night involving long exposures and a laser pointer? If the answer is "very few", then you should come visit my family.
I can officially quit my job, because I don't think I'll ever be able to top this photo I took tonight. It looks like one if those old "OWNED!" pictures that were big back in the days before the ORLY? owl and whatever else is popular on the 'net these days.
ps- This girl was fine- the nose smashing happened so fast (it was her own carom off the net from an attempted spike) that I don't think most people even saw it. She shook it off quickly and kept on playing. YA RLY!
My brother accused me of taking "dad shots" yesterday, and he was completely right. So here's anotha for you my brotha.
Summer is winding down up here, and I know that because there's a chill in the air when the sun sets. And because the leaves are beginning their beautiful death throes. And because the roadside goldenrod causes everything to be hazy and dreamlike (not to mention sneeze-inducing). And because the stars overhead have shifted their position in the night sky. And because the wooly worms have returned.
JT says he feels autumn's approach because the Ironweed is blooming. Otis knows because it's time for football. (Her dad is a former coach, so this connection makes sense) LBP smells the acorns and all the scents of impending fall on the breeze.
What signals the season change to you? (I understand that it isn't happening so fast off the mountain, but the early autumn is one of my favorite things about living here.)
Currently Listening to:Harvest Moon, by Neil Young
In Aztec culture, the hummingbird was the most revered of animals, and Huitzilopochtli ("Wheet-zee-lo-poach-tlee") was the god of both war and the sun. He was a left-handed (or Southern) hummingbird disguised as a hawk, because men knew to fear the fierce hawk. But it was the hummingbird that was important, because the Aztecs believed that slain warriors, after four years of adding to the brilliance of the sun after death, were reincarnated as hummingbirds for eternity.
To assure that the sun god Huitzilopochtli would continue to let the sun rise each say, the Aztecs regularly offered ritual sacrifices of human blood and hearts upon their altars. These bloody affairs often took place in the central city of the culture, Tenotchtitlan (now called Mexico City).
So think about that next time one of these delicate, fragile creatures darts around your yard seeking the sweet blood of your flowers.
ps- Everything written here is remembered from a World Civilization class I took sometime in the late 1990s. If you're interested to learn more, may I suggest a fascinating book on Aztec culture, The Hummingbird and the Hawk. I'm sure that my spellings are all wrong, but I think the general points are correct. It's a hell of a professor who can keep former students recalling specific details like these 10 years later!
pss- My parents have been up here the past few days finishing up the deck...and it's awesome! Come on over for a BBQ. Thanks SO MUCH Mom & J!
psss- I'm getting more and more hits on this here blog over the past few weeks, despite infrequent updates. I think some of you more sadistic guys are just hitting refresh to see if I go postal over this whole job situation and take a shotgun up on the roof of the nearest book depository. Do you not get your daily allowance of schadenfreud by watching reality television?
More fun with Macro today. Check em out over on Flickr if you want to see more things that my lens found interesting. The first ten or so are new. So why did I pick this photo to post? Besides the nifty (and untouched) color, it was an act of defiance. When I was but a youngling, I had this art teacher who decided very early on which of us were "Artsy" and which were not. Those who were chosen got to be involved in a variety of not-quite-educational-but-shitloads-of-fun projects in the name of the "Art Squad." I was chosen, as were my friends. (the best part was that it got us out of P.E. a LOT)
However, it also meant that she OWNED us. We did the projects she gave us, the way she told us to, and were steered towards the subjects that she liked. Well, I liked mushrooms. I have no idea why, but to this day I'm just fascinated by mushrooms and toadstools and all manner of wild fungi. She was (and I would assume remains) not.
It caused a bit of a rift between us. I would come in on Monday, proudly displaying renderings of mushrooms I'd found in the yard and painstakingly sketched and colored and blended with my parents' professional (and therefor expensive and tresured) colored pencils. She would scoff at my efforts. "Always the mushrooms! Why do you pick these damn things? (aside: she thought nothing of cursing at second graders) They're so boring- too boring to even grade! Why don't you pick something more interesting! I can't do anything with you!" Always followed by a dramatic ringing of hands, a too-loud sigh, and an adjustment of her oversized "You've gotta have ART!" button.
It killed me. All I wanted was her approval, so I eventually stopped bringing in my fungal drawings and moved on to jellybeans or parrots or whatever the hell thing she was all about that week.
Yeah... she turned out to be bugshit crazy. As in: un-sane and not allowed to teach or even associate with youngsters any longer. So you know what? I may break out the expensive colored pencils (I have a set of my own now) and spend a few hours shading gills and caps. Take that, crazy art teacher.
(EDIT: apparently I've mentioned this crazy art teacher before.)
It is 11:11. I am still at farking work. I am making my 11:11 wish. It involves NOT being here.
I haven't updated my blog, fixed dinner, talked to another human, or performed anything but the basic functions of living for ages because of this job.
I saw 3am from this desk recently, and will again soon. Maybe tonight.
And no one here cares a bit. I was told that graphic design is "unimportant to the department because it doesn't make money." I can't write any more about life at this place or I'll end up fired for sure. Maybe that would be better?
I just got a new 120-300mm f/2.8 lens, and I've been shooting everything (including Pete the Toad from a few posts back) with it. Even the m-o-o-n. This isn't the best lunar picture, but I shot it from my car, and I'm posting it because the cloud in front makes it look a tad like the Death Star. (And to a few of you I'm not Gnumoon, I'm LunarMermaid, so it all ties together.)
Anyway, I just got in from work. It's midnight. And I have to be back at 7:00 am to finish one of several huge projects that are in queue. Can someone please take this 10-lb monster lens and bash me over the head with it?
Currently Listening to:I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet), by The White Stripes Moonings: Howling at the Moon (Ramones), Man on the Moon (REM), Moonshadow (Cat Stevens), Harvest Moon (Neil Young), Pink Moon (Nick Drake), Climbing to the Moon (Eels), Earth and Sun and Moon (Midnight Oil), Tahitian Moon (Porno for Pyros), and Holiday on the Moon (Love and Rockets).