Saturday: Shadows, Squares and Colors

What a hideous old radiator. What messy scraps of paper on it.

The morning light makes it tolerable.

Isabel and I take pictures of the best recent piece

 of public art in New York. So many squares.

Later we go to a notions shop in my least favorite part of town.

The ribbons made me want to turn into

 the sort of person who does crafts all the time.

I love this color and this one, and what about that one?

Such goggle-eyed greed.

For lots of other ShadowShots go here.

Brooklyn

The L train goes to the unfamiliar world of Brooklyn

where people do the same sorts of things  as on the other

 side of the river ie prepare to descend into the subway.

At  the Dam Stuhltrager Gallery people have all sorts

 of props and prepare for a fashion show

 while Sir Frog observes from his corner. See below.

Robert Schmid

Bo Diddly, a girl of the streets, and the tiny plastic man

 who lives on top of our TV set at the CCCP Gallery.

Here is an old salt whose picture of a sinking ship is depressing.

Epoh Owl is having an opening too.

A Walk

A patch of clear day between rainstorms.

A walk between 11th and 8th Avenues.

A Moto Guzzi looks wonderful.

The very name is wonderful.

A fire hydrant newly painted silver.

Not sure by whom.

Shiny new metal delights.

I'm not interested in motorbikes, fire hydrants or construction,

except sometimes they look good.

Richard Woods has had an art show for some months.

This is probably the third set of pictures I've taken of the window.

Then, when I get home, I hear a pitiful cheeping sound.

A very young American robin on a ledge outside the nail parlor.

He looks quite self possessed. I hope he's all right.

Inside and Outside

Black-Eyed Susies: the spirit of the season.

On the street: young people reporting on a film which was part of revolutionlatina.org

Tomorrow we're heading to Brooklyn for an art opening.

Robert has three small pieces in the show.

Look in the background of the flyer.... the strange magic clouds

of some weeks ago. Photomontage by John Holt.

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.

Raw Material

Robert's work table: T-square, tracing paper, photos of people on

 the street, painting, drawing. An assemblage of stuff to be turned into

 something else entirely.

Buster and Vladimir Putin on 22nd Street.

 A poet, someone once said, is someone who looks at

 one thing and thinks of another.

Too much philosphy for a Monday morning.

Shadows and Details

Morning light makes stripes from the very old Windsor chair.

Construction above the High Line.

Do I live there? Almost.

Two leaves fall prematurely on a table at the Half King.

Iced water. Sunhat. Summer.

For  lots more shadowshots visit heyharriet here.

Style

I was completely blown away 

 when Constance suggested watching a you tube about 

the OMO people.

Hans Silvester's photographs stun.

In New York people love style but nothing quite 

as amazing as this.

Herewith New York very recently

How wonderful to have the entire world on your head.

High Line July 24th

Heading to day camp.

Bus stop at 23rd Street.

Day camp T-shirts.

High Line.

The woman on the left is in NY default: black and white.

Her companion has made an effort.

Bravo.

9th Avenue

And the winner is..............

this elegant dresser.

23rd Street and 8th Avenue.

Dazzle

In the depths of winter the green market at Union Square

 is subdued with left-over apples, 

a few potatoes, and

absurdly expensive little bits of mesclun salad.

Now zinnias blaze.

In midsummer there are wild traffic-light, traffic-stopping stalks.

Of what. Rhubarb? Salady stuff?

Someone will tell me.

(They did. Swiss Chard. Sue was the first!)

There is a nice friendly bee on the sunflower.

Are bees coming back? I do hope they are.

There are peaches that taste like peaches instead of those odd,

hard, fuzzy lumps they sell in the supermarket.

Fancy sunflowers.....

... plums for plum crumble.

Geranium leaves fall on the black-eyes susies.

There are snapdragons which long to be carried

 by a flower girl at a summer wedding...

...and good snacks to be had.

Who knew that tea-cosies could be WILD?

Go here for the most fun in Blogworld.

You won't be disappointed.