Price of Perspective

Broken buildings are some of my favorite things. Decaying structures have a way of showing us construction techniques without even trying. They also represent the passage of time, the cycle of events and nature. They are bitter and they are sweet. They are toil and they are sweat, and pleasant moments. They are textures, contrasts, colours and shapes.



Perspective comes at a cost.

Zipper's up, but nobody's home.

 

I didn't know what to write about this for days after I put in the photograph's HTML. I cleaned these seats off a couple of years ago. They were someone's trash and they were very disgusting. I think there were 24 of them - went along with the table of which I beleive there were 6.

This seating area is behind a bug-netting-device. This device is not closed, so there are bugs inside. There is a candle on the table.

Gauze.
 

Beyond the Curvature of the Trail.

I just uploaded this to Flickr today, though I took the photograph about 10 years ago. Had these developed this July - after such a long time that I can't exactly remember when or where they were taken. I think this might be a walking trail in the north end of Waterloo, Ontario. Not sure.

What I want to highlight with this are two points:

1) Isn't it exciting to develop a role of film that you can't remember shooting? I don't know if anyone else is/was ever like this, but when I was younger and didn't have much cash, I would prefer to buy film than to have film developed... I've always been a very "instant gratification" sort of person, and I would assume that there would always be time to develop film later. Ironically, it seems I was right. I have about 5 left from that era and every few months I take a couple to the photo shop to have them developed. I figure I will get to all of them by the end of the year. Next up, a nice old Illford and a 36 exposure roll of Ektachrome.

2) Even better than greenery that just stands around looking chlorolly... Greenery that goes some place. I love taking photos of trails and paths. Always have. It's just so nice to imagine myself walking around that bend, not knowing where it will end up. This reminds me of a short story by Japanese surealist Kobo Abe called "Beyond the Curve." Dude is walking home from work one night and when he gets to a bend in the road, he completely forgets everything "beyond the curve." Good story... worth a read.

That is all.

Once Upon a Time I Lived.

Once upon a time I lived in this landscape. I loved this landscape. I love grasses, overgrown and wild. Lawns displease me. This is why I have a dislike for the game of golf. The game itself is entertaining and rather interesting, but golf courses upset me more than I can put into words. I always feel a little guilty when I mow my lawn.

Pink Flamingo, Panther Stomp-out.

At one time I worked in an office. Actually, I have worked in a lot of offices, but I am thinking of one in particular. The first office I worked in, actually. There were a lot of grabby people in that office and for some reason it was not considered taboo to grab a colleague's beverage and take a drink from it. I found this very irritating which, I think, is quite reasonable. One day I decided to start bringing chocolate rice and/or soy milk to work with me. That solved it.

Also, the guy with the Panther tattoo came back. The sheer violence with which he stomped that dandelion to death was astounding. Nearly forces me to stutter.

Maybe he was assing out a cigarette and the dandelion just got in the way. Either way it was astounding.

There is a forest behind the screen in the background. I thought I should mention this as a way of keeping myself on-theme.

Dirty high-top shoes.

Is there anything green in this photograph? Anything at all? What am I even looking at?

Can't be a guy with dated denim shorts, dirty high-tops and no shirt on with his drawers sticking out, can it? No, that ain't there. His tattoos, btw, are actually pretty impressive. The pouncing panther being the most impressive... if not a little incongruous on his pale white skin. It's the poorly trimmed and asymmetrical mustaches and goatee that are really bothering me just at the moment. And the way he keeps pacing back and forth in front of my office window with a rather aggressive and threat-ful expression beneath that poorly maintained "beard."

"Got yr dirty high-top shoes, baby!
Yeah, dirty high-top shoes!"

Why I like skids. And how does this relate to greenery?

I recently read a post in a blog that I am following involving a personal anecdote which was used to illustrate the author's point about a topic/issue. Also recently, I related a personal anecdote to someone online to illustrate a topic/issue. Today I will relate that anecdote again, here. It isn't nearly related to the photograph except that the time period of the anecdotal story and when the photograph was taken are near to one another and/or overlap. Here is the anecdote in the exact form that I related it previously... I like to call it, "Why I like skids."

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I love skids, stacks of skids, pictures of skids, broken skids and leaning skids.

I once knew a guy who built them for a living. Got paid a dollar a piece. Dude started taking body building supplements and got himself up to $72 per hour. That was pretty impressive. It drove him completely insane, and I had to disassociate myself from him. He wasn't that nice to begin with, so I wasn't very aggrieved that I had to stop hanging out with him. Now every time I see a skid it reminds me of that guy.

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The photograph itself relates to greenery, not skids. It's nearly entirely blue, not green. And, as discussed previously, blue is not one of the colours that greenery escapes to later in life. But, like many things, green is incredibly affected by light and reflection. Greenery can be blue, too.

Bluery.