Dance After Dark Photography

We all know where to go to donate. The Red Cross, the Salvation Army, or any number of other organizations. Remember that money is more effective than goods. If you can’t donate money, blood is the next best thing.

What I really want to talk about is something that rarely, if ever, gets publicized in the United States - offers of help that we receive from around the world. A few people I’ve talked to recently and several of my friends online have ranted about all of our foreign relief efforts and complained that we don’t receive help in return when a disaster strikes U.S. soil.

Bullshit. That’s ‘Merican propaganda bullshit. We may not accept all the help that’s offered because we’re arrogant as all hell, but that doesn’t mean the offers aren’t made. Another important thing to remember is that the American Red Cross is not the *only* Red Cross. It’s our branch. Here’s the International Committee of the Red Cross website. The same goes for the Salvation Army.

Here’s an article that lists condolences from other nations and offers of aid. I’m sure there’s much more that doesn’t get publicized in U.S. news. You’ve got to check foreign sources for that kind of thing.

It makes me mad when people indignantly complain about something without checking facts. Presumptuous, arrogant bastards.

…because I’m just not that flexible, but HOT DAMN! I haven’t cooked in a few weeks, and the last few things I did cook were either stir-fry or that Jamaican jerk chicken from the “thanks for moving my stuff” party. In other words, it’s been a very, very long time since I last cooked something Down Home Southern.

Today I roasted the hell out of some chicken, potatoes, carrots, broccoli, mushrooms, and onions. Lots of garlic, a little soy, olive oil, kosher salt, and a little black pepper ground on right before taking a bite. It’s a simple dish, but it came together perfectly. Mmmmm. I’m gorging on it right now. The smell tormented me as I was taking my shower tonight. When I came back downstairs, I could smell that the caramelization was edging into burning, and I pulled it out of the oven at just the right time.

The chicken is nice & juicy, and all of the veggie flavors seeped down into it. I had piled the carrots over the chicken so it would pull in their sweetness, followed by the broccoli florets so they’d turn into mush. Normally I don’t like mushy broccoli, but as part of a roast? Hell yeah. Next up were the potatoes and some onions (layered high so I could set aside for Berlin, who’s a non-meatatarian.) On top were the mushrooms and more onions, and then I piled on a whole head of garlic and left the cloves whole. Into the oven at 425º for about an hour, then down to 375 for another 30 minutes or so.

This was The Chicken That Would Not Thaw, and I didn’t know what to expect for cooking time when the cast-iron pot was filled to the brim. I knew it’d be good, but I was afraid of complications. I am so happy right now, I can’t describe it. Ghey as it sounds, my mouth is filled with joy. Don’t go there.

One letter makes such a big difference.

vehicle is stuck on a 12 inch high stoner in the member’s lawn

Man, I just nearly wet myself. I’m not easily scared. Startled, yes, but I’m too good at breaking things to be truly frightened easily. Whether I’m breaking myself or someone else, I’ve had lots of practice. Anyway, I was just sitting here when my Pepsi bottle started sliding across the desk. The desk isn’t wet, so it’s not sliding on water. Scared the crap out of me.

Until I realized that the keyboard cable was pulling it to the side.

Yegads. A day or three ago, I saw some of the most amazing clouds in the sky. It was the only day in about a two week period that I’d left my camera at home. By the time I fought through traffic and got home, the clouds had dissipated considerably. I was discouraged because I knew what I’d already missed, so I convinced myself that I was too tired to head back out with the camera.

This morning as I was driving home I saw something entirely new to me. There were (still are) heavy stormclouds to the east, and the sun shining from behind one particularly huge cloud hit some wispy vapor and created a miniature swirly rainbow. It had very delicate, almost iridescent bands in shades of red, green, and blue. The rainbow effect disappeared in the ten minutes or so it took me to edge past Fairbanks on Hwy 17-92. With my 70-300mm balanced against the car door, I could have caught that perfectly. I’d have to shut the car off so the engine vibration wouldn’t spoil the photo, but I sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere anyway.

Note to self:
Stop leavin’ your friggin’ camera at home! Damnit!

I’m watching a documentary called War Photographer about James Nachtway, who is what the name implies. The documentary follows him through Rwanda, Kosovo, Indonesia, and the West Bank. The latter footage in particular is striking in light of the recent evacuation of the West Bank. It’s a well-filmed documentary, and I’m a little thrown by the fact that I haven’t been looking as much at the content of his photos as his method and construction of the images. One photo just now made me realize what I was doing. I thought, “That’s a great photo. The mass of swirling, dark bodies - mostly shadowed, and then that woman’s face is lit by the sun. The strain on her face really shows.” I realized she was looking at her son’s dismembered body and wailing toward the sky.

I wonder how much of that clinical approach he keeps as he’s shooting. He talks about being able to stay aware of your surroundings and make snap decisions, both to catch dramatic moments and to stay alive. I just can’t imagine seeing people in such dire situations and remaining detached enough to take pictures. As he says himself, you wouldn’t go to a funeral in your home town, walk up next to the casket, and start taking photographs of the mourners’ faces. In war, you’re removed from the normal rules of behavior, but then how would you make the transition back?

You know you’re getting old when you go “oof” every time you sit down.

You know you’re still young at heart when you sit in a chair with wheels and go “oofwheeee!”

Today was a good day. I slept. Got another panorama done plus a few non-panoramic shots. I’m still slogging through 200+ frames, many of which were intended to be composites but will wind up on the scrap pile. There’s no point in spending 1-3 hours (each) stitching together six photos that are nearly identical. At this point I’m trying to skip ahead to the parts where the stormclouds really came to a head. It was beautiful.

(subject line by Googlism)

I’ve been putting it off because, unlike AAA, I can’t access LiveJournal from BrightHouse. Imagine that. A company that supports internet access actually has decent filtering/blocking software. That said, I’m keeping track of further examples of rocket scientists among us.

Thus are reborn the Rocket Science Chronicles!

“The cable fell behind the desk, and I have to elaborate to get it.”
That’s right, sir. If you explain yourself in a clear and detailed manner, I’m sure the cable will see reason and come back to you.

Also, this one isn’t stupid so much as dirty, but I barely kept from laughing and so must share. In her defense, she was talking about hitting a reset button. I swear it’s coincidence that this is the 30th entry.

I’m still looking for something long enough to wiggle around in that hole down there. It’s frustrating because everything I find just doesn’t quite reach.

The title for this photo struck me just as my eye lined up the shot. The clouds were just right. The glowing lights of the Orange County courthouse reminded me of the headlights of an automobile, barreling over the smaller, dark buildings and leaving a despondent Bank of America behind.

Or maybe I need to stop thinking so much. Who’s to say?

This was taken on the shore of Lake Eola in downtown Orlando. The lake and its fountain are probably Orlando’s biggest landmarks. More in my Sunsets photo gallery.

I’ve been taking my camera with me everywhere lately. That used to be standard practice, but I got out of the habit when I spent $1000 for the D70 and at least another $500 for lenses, memory, sturdy tripod, etc. I’m actually afraid to put together the total amount I carry in that little camera bag of mine. It’s one thing to cart around a $300 prosumer point & shoot. It’s not cheap, but it’s replaceable. If the D70 bit it, I’d be stuck for a few months or more. I’ve already been through that nightmare, and I don’t want to go back.

The good news is that shooting so much means a big stress reduction. There are two things that equate to meditation for me: taking photos and cooking. Given the state of the kitchen at the new place, I’ll stick with photos for now. It isn’t a bad kitchen, but it’s very small compared to my old house. I took some great sunset shots at Lake Eola a few days ago, and I took a few more pictures along Lake Monroe in Sanford yesterday. I got a nice shot of a Green Heron, much better than what I got while down in the Everglades. I’ll post soon.

I finally joined the Florida Trail Association. I went on a work hike a year or two ago, building bridges on a trail in Seminole County. That’s where I met Wiley Dykes, the source of many jokes about clever lesbians. The hike was fun, if wet, and I’d like to do that sort of thing again. There’s a big work hike coming up in November, building boardwalks and rerouting the trail through the Ocala National Forest. I’m looking forward to that. I’ve wanted to go back to the Ocala NF for a while, but I’d rather be part of a group. The last few times I’ve gone alone or with only one or two friends, and each time I/we had trouble with drunken hunters, annoyingly persistent stoners, or bears (oh my!) Changes the song a bit, doesn’t it?

I’ve drifted from my goal of alternative fashion & fetish photography, but that’s mainly because I don’t have to make appointments with trees & frogs. Also, shooting with people demands a certain kind of location. If it’s just me, I can take pictures like this that otherwise would showcase a model’s big toe. A damn sexy big toe it would be, but people usually want more for their portfolios. Unless, of course, they’re catering to a very specific foot fetish market. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think Toes Gone Wild has hit the mainstream yet.