The Lady of Shalott

 

as mentioned in a previous post...see below

The Lady of Shalott

 

as mention in a previous post...see below

The Lady of Shalott

The below photo, a collage or diptych was initially taken as two separate photos. I will post both after this post. I would love to know how you feel about the photo. Do you like it as a diptych or would you prefer the photos individually?

Both photos are Lensbaby photos, with the nature of the Lensbaby to have only a portion of the subject focused and the remainder blurred; however the flower of the open rose which although resembling a carnation, I am told belongs to the rosebush family is a Lensbaby macro photo. The other photo which to me resembles a face of a woman is a Lensbaby photo, taken at 50mm; this photo of let's call her the woman, I tried an experiment. On a chilly, but sunny beautiful Fall day I pointed the camera at a scene of color, and instead of a perfect clear focus, dragged the camera in a vertical position resulting in a blurr of color. Then in digital post processing, upon seeing the two photos decided it would make an interesting diptych.

I will post both individual photos, let me know what you think, thanks.

The Lady of Shalott

The Lady of Shalott, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

"Work saves us from three great evils: boredom, vice and need". Voltaire, Candide 1759

"Work saves us from three great evils: boredom, vice and need". Voltaire, Candide 1759, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

an androgynous portrait of self on a never ending quest for employmnet.

"I husband, take you wife to be none other than yourself; both freed and bound by our love for as long as we both shall live"

"I husband, take you wife to be none other than yourself; both freed and bound by our love for as long as we both shall live", originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

the wedding ceremony! just a little Happy Halloween humor!

I sold flowers; I didn't sell myself. Now you've made a lady of me, I'm not fit to sell anything else.

I sold flowers; I didn't sell myself. Now you've made a lady of me, I'm not fit to sell anything else., originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

Eliza Doolittle ~ My Fair Lady 1964

...and the queen, believing that she had eaten Snow White's heart could hear the trees whispering to each other...

...and the queen, believing that she had eaten Snow White's heart could hear the trees whispering to each other..., originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

stepping before her mirror she asked mirror, mirror, on the wall, who in this land is fairest of all.

Often times when I photograph trees and flowers I find myself trying to capture the true essence of their beauty as I see it. Many times I am disappointed at my outcome if I only have a still image with no sense of an inner-life. I often photograph with macro lenses, double and triple exposure and sometimes collage the images. I think in my mind's eye it brings more life to my subject matter. Somehow I feel if I can give a sense of movement to a still image I will have blended and molded myelf to that image thereby giving a truer representation of the image. It is almost as if I am trying to have a relationship with my subject matter. Would love to know what you think?!

It's hard to find good neighbors these days!

It's hard to find good neighbors these days!, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

just a little Halloween humor. Not feeling too prolific this weedend, so thought I'd post a photo or two. :O)

Love's Lines, Angles and Rhymes ~ Fifth Dimension

Love's Lines, Angles and Rhymes ~ Fifth Dimension, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

Does anyone remember this song? 1971?

"Cleave to no faith when faith brings blood" ~ Arthur Miller, The Crucible

"Cleave to no faith when faith brings blood" ~ Arthur Miller, The Crucible, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

THE END

It was a time for moving on and move on we had to. Emily Anne, Jimmy and most of the kids from our eighth grade class went to high school at the local high school in our town. I later found out Jimmy didn't make it past tenth grade, had to be sent to reform school; rumor had it he tried to steal money out of the bakery's cash register, and when old Mr. Sorensen the owner grabbed his arm Jimmy hit him in the face. Lost touch and didn't hear much about Emily Anne.

Jason and I went to a school outside the town and became very close in the years that followed. I took mamma's advice; I studied hard, went to college and worked hard for many years after that. Never got married or had any kids. After the summer of my freshman year at college, Jason and I came home from the shore to find out mama and daddy were getting a divorce; seems daddy and Jason's mom Mrs. Cumberlink -well - they were just quite neighborly. I don't think mama ever recovered; she loved daddy so much despite his indiscretions.

Looking back, seeing forward, remaining the same ~

what though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind ...

from William Wordsworth's poem "Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood".

Starry, Starry Night

Starry, Starry Night, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

Mama told me not to come ... I've seen so many things I ain't never seen before ~ Three Dog Night

Mama told me not to come ... I've seen so many things I ain't never seen before ~ Three Dog Night, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

to be continued ... FYI

To bring together the fictional story "See the children..." in chronological order: go to the bottom of one entry of the story, click on the label for the post "to be continued", and the story automatically falls in order, and can be viewed all posts together.

Thank you Blogspot! and yet again I live and learn!

The Natural Architect

The Natural Architect, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

The beginnings of life after a Hard Drive CRASH ...

Continuation of short story posted from draft of October 9

Prior to the Hard Drive CRASH of October 9 I was working on a draft of the short story "See the children"; I published that today, however it seems it is listed below yesterdays post "Hard Drive Crash and is listed as an October 9 posting. Sorry for any confusion this may cause.

In retrospect and review I see many changes that need to occur on the blog before I will escalate to the popularity of one of Blogspots #1 blogs :0); but as they say "live and learn". I do promise however to do the following in the future in any short fictional story so as to increase the number of followers and to enhance their reading pleasure:

1. I do solemnly swear not to start a short story in July and finish it close to November. I do realise this inhibits any sort of suspense and leads a reader into a succession of delicious yawns and short naps, not necessarily what I am looking for in the prospect of an exhilarated audience.

2. I promise to earnestly consider my readers and not write backwards; I just have to figure out how to do this, as following the Blogspot template makes it a bit challenging unless I only want to write fiction.

3. And ... first and foremost I promise to try my hardest to keep my readers interest in mind!

Absent Again

The last time I posted, eight days ago I was feeling quite exhilarated at the prospect of completing my first story in almost fifteen years. I was thrilled at my dedication and determination and success at writing almost every day for both September and October and I was distracted from the arduous and debilitating task of looking for a job.

However, infrequently through my writings and uploads during October I would receive flashing warnings "Ckdsk Dirty Files on Drive C" and then the internal workings of the Microsoft cyber-wizards would crawl relentlessly up and down my bright blue screed saying "ckdsk complete" and I would think everything was alright; but again it would happen and I wondered why can't these dirty files keep themselves clean.

Then, thankfully after and not before one of my final posts of the short story "See the Children ...continued" ... I had just pushed "publish post", when the screen went black and would not boot! Oh what a terrible feeling!! I pushed and prodded and cursed and ranted and finally with trepidation and great angst I called Dell. It took one brief diagnostic tool and one heated lengthy argument on why I should not have to pay $50 for that one brief diagnostic tool to find out the hard drive was dead and I would need a new hard drive.

It took eight days and much lost data, many lost photos and the loss of my precious Adobe Photoshop CS3 program which is buried somewhere in a storage Pod after a house move which took place on July 29; but I am up and running.

I have missed writing; I have missed photo editing; I have missed posting, but one thing I have not missed, that writing a blog is a great distraction from is the never ending, unrewarding, vacuous job of finding employment!

Hard Drive CRASH!

Broadway, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

So lonely - so empty - so lifeless .... that has been the last eight days since the computer shut down, the hard drive crashed and there was no more; but patience prevailed, a smart technician worked tirelessly while the blogger wined and pouted, but at last we are up and ready once again!

...continued see the small children...

Never really knew who had the idea first to swing from that old rope, whether it was Jimmy or Herman; never knew how long that rope hung there or even who put it there; but never was there a rope there after that night; all the years later when I was growing up and even when I went back as a grown man, there were still kids swimming and playing baseball, but never did a big, thick, old sturdy and twisted rope swing from the old Poplar tree ever again.

It wasn't like we ever used that rope much, in fact hardly at all, actually almost never. None of the girls ever used it, most of the time the girls wouldn't even swim, just use to sit on the edge of the creek with their feet in the water; and us guys we use to just splash around, hiding behind the rocks teasin each other; sometimes if somebody had the baseball, we would grab it from em and throw it in the water and tell em go fetch it you dog and we'd laugh.

I guess that's what brought us all to the creek's edge the night Herman Miller mounted the rope. Herman went first. Thinking back his small, thin fingers grabbed the rope, and one after the other in rapid succession his hands clasped hand over hand til he was just about half way up the trunk of the old tree. For many years I could still see his smiling face excited and proud he had scurried so quickly up the rope, like a spider crawling the ropes of his web, his slight body, but sturdy muscular legs wrapped round the rope, just hanging there, ever so soft and gently, swinging back and forth, ready to swing out, jumping to the cool and restful waters of the creek that were waiting below for him.

I remember just before he pushed off the rock with his foot for his big swing and jump, he glanced over at Emily Anne and smiled with a hint of sarcasm, as if to say watch this and she blushed and of course looked at the ground and he was off. He swung out and jumped, we heard a loud splash and we waited -- and waited -- and waited--, but Herman never came up; turned out the water wasn't as deep as we thought, or I guess we really never thought much about deep the water was. We found out later Herman had hit his head and drowned. He was only one month from his fourteenth birthday.

I can't remember who told us Herman was gone, if it was the police, the neighbors, mama or who; that part has never been clear to me.

Nothing was ever the same after that. We all finished eighth grade together and all prayed for Herman every time we went to church. Mama said he was in a better place and God would take care of him; but we began to scatter. That final year in eighth grade we didn't go to the field to play football or baseball and none of us swam in the creek that summer. Emily Anne spent all of her time in dancin school and with her girlfriends.

The Windows of the Soul

MAN, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

is the truth revealed

...continued see the small children...

Bout six weeks later, when it was closer to gettin back to school it was a real hot summer night, the kind where ya feel like your skin is sticking to itself and ya get so thirsty all ya can think of is water, drinkin it, swimmin in it and playin in it. It was windy that night too, the kind of wind that plays tricks on you. The kind that's peaceful one minute, and fore you know it, it kicks up real hard and could pretty near knock you over, the kind of wind that usually makes you think one of those rolling thunderstorms are marching their way toward you. It was the kind of wind that always made the creek mean and looking like it was ready to eat somebody.

We were all at the baseball field; guys weren't really playing, just tossin the ball around, practicing their swings, no real runnin or anythin. There had been a lot of tension between Herman and Jimmy. Emily Anne and Herman seemed to be gettin along real well now. Kids would see em around town together, gettin ice cream, sittin on the porch, there were rumors they was kissin and stuff and I heard Herman was even thinkin of asking Emily Ann to the 8th grade winter dance. I was just glad they could finally look at each other, always seemed so stupid before, sneaking glances at one another. Anyway Jimmy didn't like Herman much anymore, didn't even talk to him; this made Emily Anne real nervous, because even though she use to get on my nerves with all of those girlie ways of hers, I guess she was a nice enough person. She had a lot of fun with Herman and all the kids liked her, cause she was always helping somebody; they would laugh and when she would come to the field she would actually sometimes try to toss the ball around. Now more times than not it was Jimmy who was either sitting in the bleachers, or moping round the field, or gone off swimming by himself in the creek and Emily Anne was always trying to include him in whatever it was all us kids was doing. That made him mad too.

So on this one hot summers night Herman and Emily were playing cards in the bleachers, I was close by talking to Jason about everybody else, a couple kids were having a catch, when Jimmy drippin wet from swimmin in the creek, looking so handsome and muscular for his young years walked up to Herman and asked wanna go for a swim. You could have heard the grass grow; no one breathed or said a word. It had been awhile since Jimmy said anythin to Herman let alone wanna go for a swim. Just as surprising, Herman, eyes glancing toward his feet said sure. None of us knew at the time that a swim would change our lives forever.

Let's go now Herman said fore it gets any later; my folks will be worried if I get home to late. Let's try that rope that's hanging from the big old oak tree.

Twisted

Twisted, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

...continued see the small children...

See after the parade was over when the nighttime came around we all went to the fireworks. Most of us went with our parents and sometimes all the families would meet up together and sit out on the lawn chairs just coolin off from the heat of the July day, listing to the crickets and watching the colorful, crackling explosion in the sky.

So this one Fourth of July Jimmy had it in his head he wanted to ask Emily Ann to his house for barbecue and then they could go to the fireworks together; but Emily Anne, well her mother was one of the teachers that ran the dancin school and she thought it would be nice to invite Herman Miller's family back to their house for barbecue, because Herman's little sister took dancin classes at the school, and sometimes other years after the big parade was over, she would invite the parents and the kids of the classes back for a burger and a dog.

So just as the the big float got to the end of the parade and Jimmy was just waitin with a big grin on his face, white teeth sparklin, blue eyes dancin, all dressed up in a clean tshirt for Emily Anne to get off you could hear Emily Anne's mother yellin Emily Ann ask Herman if he and his family want to come back to the house. Well it seemed this was the chance Emily Ann was waitin for, cause it finally gave her an excuse to look at Herman rather than at the ground where she was usually lookin when she was trying to look at him. So when the float stopped, she looked directly at Herman and well he ran faster than a jack rabbit to help her off that float; and Jimmy, well he ducked between the neighborhood folks, scurried out the back of the crowd, ran around the back of the church and that was the last we saw of him that Fourth of July. He never came to the fireworks, never ate any barbecue, and none of us kids knew where he went that night.

It was shortly after this that strange things started happening both at the baseball field and down by the creek. ...to be continued ...

"The artist alone sees spirits ..." Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832)

"The artist alone sees spirits ..." Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832), originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

PANIC Disorder

PANIC Disorder, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

A break from our story ...see the small children...to be continued...

...continued...see the small children...

Now Herman Miller, as I sort of mentioned before, was I thought, kinda shy. He had big blue eyes, that when you looked into them, sort of reminded me of the creek in our neighborhood. Sometimes you would look in his eyes and they would be shining; they would sparkle like the reflection of the sun upon the water on a sunny day, and other times those eyes looked like there was a storm brewing in them, just like the creek did when the winds blew and the thunder and the rain came.

We all lived pretty close to the creek. Momma and daddy told me growing up that we lived in a really old neighborhood; a neighborhood that had a lot of history. We lived in what they called a mill town, daddy use to say. All the men back then went to work at the mills. I think daddy said there was a yarn mill and a woolen mill.

Now we didn't live by the creek or the mills, but we lived closer to Mr. and Mrs. Cumberlink's which was over by the railroad trussell, which ran over top the creek and on either side of the baseball and football field. Mama said we lived in a nicer part of town because daddy had a little bit more money than the others; not that we were rich she'd say, just made better use of our money, didn't waste it on anything that wasn't a necessity. I could never figure out why she didn't think Mr. Cumberlink had a respectable job, or that they were respectable people when the Cumberlinks lived so close to us.

Well anyway, one hot July, not that long after the fourth of July, not that long after the fourth of July parade, the parade that ran all through the towns, so as we could have a party to honor the birthday of the country; well this particular fourth of July was when ever thing started gettin real uncomfortable.

See Emily Anne, she went to some fancy dancin school classes and every year the teachers that ran the school had a big float all decorated with ballerinas and fancy dance shoes, the kind with those pieces of metal on the bottom. Well she was at the top of the float, just sittin up there like a fairy princess. She had a sparkly crown on her head and one of those fancy ballet costumes with lots of puffy net attached to it. That float ran all the way down the main street of the town and when you got to the end there was free ice cream, lemonade and soda just waitin for ya; and in Emily Anne's case there was also Jimmy and Herman waiting for her.

...to be continued...

Continued from July post...See those children down there ...

But the Spring came and I didn't feel anymore like battin a ball than I did throwin a football in the fall weather. Daddy was alright with it though; he'd pat me on the head, grab his whiskey glass and say, well maybe your mamas'right; just go play in those books of yours. Every once in awhile - and I hated this - he'd say why don't you call up that cute little girl that's always hanging around the baseball field, what's her name - Emily Anne and ask her to come over to help you with that math homework of yours. He'd always slap his hand on mama's shoulder, give her a kiss on her cheek and chuckle when he said this. Mama would laugh too and say oh hush up daddy and let the boy be.

Now I just down and out hated Emily Anne. She reminded me of Mrs. Cumberlink. She had a similarly sick sweet smell; not like that Lily of the Valley though, more like burnt carmel coated popcorn. She was the smartest girl in the class; but to hear our teacher and the principal talk you'd think she was the smartest girl in the world. She was good at science, never forgot a date in history, knew the capital of every state and knew everything there ever was to know about math. She would help anyone and everyone with their math homework and I mean everybody. She helped the girls and she helped the boys, and I think she helped the boys more and the boys helped her. Why prett-near every time we went to the baseball field to practice for a game she was there. She'd bring her books and her girlfriends and they'd sit in the bleachers a yappin. One was either too hot, or too cold, or wanted to catch the baseball and above all they all wanted to talk to Jimmy. Come to think of it she even looked like Jimmy. She had that pretty blond hair just like he did; only he seemed more interesting to me than she did.

Of all the girls, she probably was the least interested in Jimmy, although she had no trouble askin him to help her with her shoe, or fetch her sweater or whatever else she cold think of; but I really think she liked Herman Miller. Couldn't prove it by no one though; every time Herman looked at her she looked at the dirt by the diamond on the field and Herman well he'd look right away at the same time. Seemed stupid to me; but guess that's because I was trying to get some sort of interest in the dumb game by watching Jimmy. I couldn't help but wonder how'd Jimmy's hair get as long and curly and pretty as hers when she was just a stupid girl.

Now the problem was Jimmy; the problem was always Jimmy and that temper of his. Ya see, I use to watch Jimmy at those games; and Jimmy, when he wasn't watching the baseball, use to watch Emily Anne. Seemed to me Jimmy use to look at Emily Anne the same way daddy use to look at Mrs. Cumberlink; but Emily Anne - when she wasn't yappin with the girls, or pickin at a fingernail, or somehow getting her homework done, well - she was watching Herman Miller.

Now Herman Miller ... to be continued

Continued from July post...See those children down there ...

Autumn Pleasures

 

Forgotten Marquis/Historic Lansdowne Movie Theatre ~ next to TheRegency Cafe

Forgotten Marquis, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

Forgotten Marquis/Historic Lansdowne Movie Theatre ~ next to TheRegency Cafe

Forgotten Marquis, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

Forgotten Marquis/Historic Lansdowne Movie Theatre ~ next to TheRegency Cafe

Forgotten Marquis, originally uploaded by prudencebrown121.

The Regency Cafe

I am so grateful for the small, well actually mid-size cafe which sits on Lansdowne Avenue next to the now closed but petitioned to re-open Lansdowne movie theatre. This cafe has become my home away from home as a solace from an extremely slow internet and a jumping cursor that would rival any young grasshopper.

I was born in Lansdowne and having returned due to rather unusual circumstances was delighted to stumble upon the Regency Cafe at its former location across from the Lansdowne train station. I use to grab my cup of - may I just say - more than delicious coffee and head for the Media local. Always I was amazed that such a cute and innovative cafe was located in Lansdowne and not the city. The owner is among the finest bakers I have ever encountered. His cherry almond scones, blueberry muffins and lemon sugar cookies, oh and the vanilla cupcakes are an orgasmic experience for any pallet. His quiches of all varieties and there are several are light and fluffy, both egg and cheese as well as crust, a true party in your mouth.

There is entertainment once a week, I believe on Thursdays; although I have not had the fortunate experience to attend yet, and there is thankfully and blessedly for me the internet access. I come to this cafe once or twice a week to write, edit my photos and eat; and although I sometimes resemble a potted plant, sitting at a table in the corner, computer plug with its teeth grinding in to the socket they provide for me, everyone is always nice, feeds me well and hasn't chased me yet. As a distressed girl on unemployment who could ask for more than this; oh except maybe a job!

I end todays post with my recommendation as a former owner of a food business to definately visit this creative and unique cafe. If you visit now you can not only access the internet, not only eat until your tummy sings to you, but you can visit the WorldWide Photo Print Exhibit organized by one of the exhibitors John Kelly Green, with outstanding photos by other exhibitors, among my favorites Becky Baxendell and Maura Ciccarelli.