For any amount of cash

I've been waiting for years to buy a brand new cadillac
But now that i've got one i want to send it right back
I can't afford the gas to fill my luxury limousine
But even if i had the dough no one's got no gasoline

There's no more left to buy or sell
There's no more oil left in the well
A gallon of gas can't be purchased anywhere
For any amount of cash

-the Kinks, A Gallon of Gas


There is a Chinese curse that goes something like this: "May you live through interesting times."

Maybe I'm dating myself here, but I recall hanging my head out of my high school bus and waving at a friend who was stuck in a long line of cars, waiting to get to a gas pump, back in the '70's. He waved back without enthusiasm, and I recall feeling rather smug that, although still yet too young to have a driver's license, I hadn't followed the course of many of my upper classmates in hot pursuit of getting their own wheels as soon as they had license in hand. I never minded taking the bus, even sludging through snow-crunched streets in Michigan winter months towards that bus stop.

My indifference towards transportation served me well during the oil embargo of those times....those interesting times. The Kinks wrote the above song when the album "Low Budget" came out, and it's been dancing in my head for the last several days.

The current gas shortage, of course, is different. There is no saber rattling going on in the SE USA (except maybe at those who would dare to cut in line at an open gas station) - it's only due to a couple of hurricanes, and the failure of those in charge to safeguard enough supplies to see us through forced refinery shutdowns due to nasty weather.

We drive around town and pass station after station with the now-familiar plastic bags over the pumps, and deserted lots. It's like 1973 all over again, only this time we are also reading about an impending bailout that will keep us feeling poor, fearing the worst and hoping for the best, for a long time to come - and the accompanying sound track isn't as good.

We are living the Chinese curse! It's a cheap curse, I suppose, since it has "Made in China" stamped on its ass. A cheap curse with overwhelming repercussions.

The Chinese curse. I love irony, don't you?

Love of Lith

Some recent stuff. Finally some quality time alone under the red lights!

All of these were taken at South Beach, and all of them are from infrared (HIE) negatives.

A plant on our balcony at the Albion. I kept watching that shadow passing over during the day, and knew I had to capture it.

The rear of the Albion, looking up from the pool area. I let the blacks fully develop here, nothing in mind but achieving a more graphic, lith-film kind of look.

A parking deck that caught my eye. I pulled this one without letting the blacks fully develop to give it more of a charcoal-etching kind of feel.

Brookhaven Arts Festival coming up

I'll be at the Brookhaven Arts Festival for the first time this year. It looks like a great event.

Dates: October 11th and 12th.

I hope to have more lith prints out in time for this one! My darkroom has been more of a storage room since installing the new floors. Maybe the upcoming Labor Day weekend will be THE weekend I clean up in there at last - and get back to some serious work.

I like the echo-o-o-o of an empty room

So I've painted 4 rooms in my house in the last 2 months. (During which I kept getting annoyed with the way my longish hair seemed to be a paint magnet, so I've chopped off quite a bit. muahahaha....)



There's nothing that will make you want to paint your walls more than having new floors put in. Being the type of people who seem to do things in a grand way, we ripped out all the floors of the entire downstairs.


So long, crappy builder's grade carpet!


Farewell, cheap wood parquet!


I was on the ball enough to take some "after" shots, but fell short of being smart enough to take "befores". I've rummaged around my files, but this seems to be the best "before" picture I have of the foyer with the pukey parquet floor....it just happens to have a cat in it, too.








Here is the "after" view, sans cat:



















Okay, the cat shot is cuter because of Jinx, but what the hell. There it is - my new fieldstone foyer, with a glimpse beyond into the (newly painted!) study showing my new hardwood floor in there - and a glimpse of a new rug.


One of the BEST parts about hardwood floors is that you get to spend stupid money on seriously beautiful, hand crafted rugs to place on them.

And your dog approves.






The BEST-best part in all this is....

the studio!





















I hated even putting my drafting table back in there, it was so perfect in its emptiness. I liked walking around listening to the echos. Sadly, this floor seemed to resist my efforts to slide...or maybe I just need thicker socks. ??

Anyway.

The drafting table and the oak work-table are back in, as is the little bookcase crammed with my art books and supplies. I want to better display my antique cameras, so eventually there will have to be some kind of display case in there....but I'm in no hurry.

Right now, I'm having a great time just resting my painting arm, getting used to feeling air on the newly exposed back of my neck, and listening to the echos bouncing around in there.

ooo-HOO....OO....OO....OO...... [fade to black]

hot summer

This is being written mainly to make sure the month of July isn't completely devoid of posts.

I'm a terrible blogger - when I get busy with my life, I don't feel the pull to sign in and update. As much as I enjoy writing, when I feel rushed I'd rather avoid it.

All I can say at the moment is: things have been crazy-busy, in mainly a good way. The summer is flying by, and my heavenly time floating through South Beach already seems like the distant past. I still have a roll to develop from that trip. I've not been in the darkroom for weeks, home-improvement projects seem to be stepping in front of me at every turn. In fact, one home improvement project involved me sanding down a wall; I failed to close the door to the nearby darkroom and I know I've sent a fine spray of dust in there. Dumbass - I should be shot for such an oversight. So, no prints will be forthcoming until I really clean up in there, including the enlarger.

Ah, for the day when I'm out of the rat race! The bromoils, the hand coloring, the lith prints, and - dare I say it? - the Polaroid transfers that all still await me.

I hope to have a firm date for the next hand coloring workshop, and a couple of fall art festivals up here soon.

I've never been at such a happy stage; getting closer to the time when I'm free to do the REAL work that is still ahead. It's maddening at times, but still exciting.

PH8 and sand in the tub...or, the Mystery Tour revealed

Ah, the mystery trip....I've already bragged on this trip to several people and almost feel guilty bringing it on here. But when you know you've had one of those trips that can classify as one of THE trips of a lifetime, you get over that real quick-like.

heh.

So, I honestly never had a clue where we were headed, and had the fun of hanging back at the airport when checking the luggage so Brad could tell the harried-looking Delta employee that this trip was meant to be a surprise and not to blow it with a casual mention. Apparently his charm is infectious and so was his effort, as I watched the agent's facial worry-lines smooth away as she broke into a smile while they exchanged a few more comments. It can't be easy being on the front lines of an airline these days. I appreciated being a happy customer. Baggage checked, onward through security and then, finally, coming up to the gate whose sign read...."MIAMI".

.....Miami? Brad almost laughed at my doubtlessly comical expression while I carefully arranged my face to look more pleased than puzzled, while my peripheral brain was doing a rapid-fire check of what could possibly be down in the city of Miami that would suddenly register with a click so I could leap into the air and shout, "YES! MIAMI!!!!"

It didn't happen. Amused and patient, Brad carefully explained that our actual destination was South Beach, Miami....and that he had rented us a room in a restored 1930's hotel in an area called the Art Deco District. I'd never heard of it, but then, neither had he, so we were going in relatively blind - he with the upper hand, of course, since he'd been avidly studying the area and restaurants online.

What, me worry? Foolish Terri.

It.was.amazing.

Brad had landed us a penthouse room - no doubt smallish for a penthouse by today's standards, but it was all about the balcony patio and the art deco feel of the whole place.

We were here:

on the top floor towards the back, where the penthouse patios overlook the pool. We were in PH8. For 5 straight days, we either swam in the pool or camped out on the beach, and endlessly walked the area. Block after block was little more than architectural eye candy; I tried to take artsy shots and breathe it all in. There was a long street closed to through traffic, given fully over to pedestrians to access on foot all the shops, restaurants and bars that remained open to silly wee hours. Whether we walked down them at high noon or at midnight there was the same level of music, laughter and general street-party hijinx type of people-watching. No one went home, it seemed, and the stores never closed and people shopped and dined and drank and laughed and wore South Beach clothes. It was a world unto itself, unreal and glittering, and we were happy to wander in it.

We were barely becoming assimilated into this particular collective when the ugly reality of check-out time was upon us.

I'll have more pictures to pop in. This image of the Albion is from a quick test print of an HIE negative. It looks a little blown; I'll do better after more time in the darkroom. I returned having shot only 2 rolls of HIE, a roll of slide film that's sort of blah and one still-undeveloped roll of 120 from the Holga. Could be a handful of potentially interesting shots...could be crap. We'll see.

But South Beach is a delicious place to go lose oneself. And "PH8" will forever be a buzzword in our household.

Roll up for the Magical Mystery Tour...step right this way

Ever wanted someone to just step in and disrupt your busy life with an announcement that you're being whisked off by plane to someplace new and special, and all you had to do was get the time off work, and be packed and ready at the appointed time?

Yeah, me too. And I'm actually going to get this gift, courtesy of THE best husband in the world, later this month.

Now, don't get me wrong....I like control. But until this was planned without my knowledge, I didn't realize what a gift the lack of control can be. I'm not worrying over what or how to pack, for instance. I will be given the vaguest of ideas as to whether to include warm or cool weather clothing - the night before we leave. If I knew in advance exactly where I was going, my feverish little brain would be laying out precise outfits and mulling over what to take for certain activities, and worrying about things like extra shoes...or socks.

More importantly, I'd be in a dither over what photography gear to take along...which for me, experience proves can lead to toting far too much. Knowing where I am going means I am able to dedicate a certain format to a certain place (if not envisioning actual photos!).

I'm surprising myself with my growing delight in the freedom of not knowing...it's allowing me to shrug off planning for the unknowable, compelling me to keep it simple. Since I don't know any details, I'm going with the easy-to-tote 35mm - slides and infrared film (2 rolls from my precious remaining stash of HIE). That's 2 camera bodies with shared lenses (bless you, Pentax). That leaves room in my camera bag to tuck in the Holga and a few rolls of 120 B&W film.

So...that usually lengthy (and overthought) process is done. It's over. I can't plan for anything specific, so all I know is I'm going light, with a decided shift toward shooting for funk.

My Mystery Tour planner is remaining tight-lipped and teasing, promising only that it's all been planned, is already paid for, and all I have to do is live in the moment and enjoy myself to the extreme.

.....huh?! No debating over where to stay, what to pack, how to shoot....really? I'm being challenged to just relax and go with it! Relinquish control! Get into a complete mindset of spontaneity, that will last for days!

....I think I'm up for it. Everything I need....satisfaction guaranteed. The time is coming, coming to take me away.....

Oh, go on - let me enjoy the Beatles reference; who doesn't want to live in a Beatles lyric?