Inspiration

I've cheated and read Weaver and Willowmanor and Titus's posts about inspiration.

I'll admit, nothing inspires me nearly so much as looking at what other people have done.

So, first of all, family. The date on this photograph is September 1939.

My father's brother Maurice, who hated school

 and was good at tennis in an erratic sort of way.

Look how his hair has been flattened down for the photo.

He died, of course.

One of Claudia's first photographs when she was taking photography in high school.

A pumpkin grown from one we had kicked off our porch.

I've learned everything I know about taking pictures from her.

Something magic and fairy tale about pumpkins always.

West Square in London, near the Imperial War Museum Film archives.

Why do the mossy steps lead nowhere?

What possibilities in the quiet window.

Colors in Morocco. A life saturated with visual delights

but all sorts of other things too.

I hope no one finds this last image offensive.

David Shrigley captures so exactly how I sit at my desk

and get distracted all the time.

Running Out of Puff : or a Slow Day in Blogland

Terrifically hot and muggy. Yesterday afternoon I said, 

"Let's take the dog for a walk."

Immediate torrential downpour, enlivened by the approach of a woman clad

 entirely in scarlet. By the time I got my camera out, she had passed by.

The rain made plants in planters sparkle.

Tomorrow, one of the best writers in blogland, Weaver of Grass, 

is encouraging fellow bloggers to write about what inspires them.

I love the idea of inspiration, of having a lovely muse breathe

 exciting things into my ear. Please join in if you feel like it.