PICTURE ONLY GALLERY LINKS
The life without the APA pictures are here
The The Forks ~ there's no place like home gallery is here
The ART ~ conveys / transports / reflects gallery is here
The Decay & Disgust work/book is here
The single women selects/book gallery is here
The picture windows selects/book gallery is here
The kitchen life selects gallery is here
A 10 picture look at Tangles, Thickets, and Twigs ~ fields of visual energy is here
1. the temperature is dropping
2. leaves are dropping3. bombs are dropping on yet another Arab country
Sounds right to me.
Saturday last was a very windy day on Lake Champlain. It made our crossing very interesting. The Cinemascapist and I were ferrying Hugo to Vermont for the first game of his new hockey season.
Hugo is playing for a "select" team - tryouts for selection (by a group of college hockey players) to the team - this season, the Plattsburgh Roadrunners. The first game was against a team of AA selects from Vermont. The game was very competitive and the Roadrunners won the game by a score of 2-1. Hugo scored both goals and I would surmise the coaches were quite pleased that Hugo was selected for the team.
Also most everyday I awake knowing that I will, most likely, make a picture (or more). Unless doing so involves a client directed assignment, I never know in advance what that picture (or pictures) will picture / illustrate. And, I believe that the absence of preconception in my picture making endeavors helps define the essence of that which my picture making activities create - pictures which illustrate the act of discovery.
Without a sense of preconception, I am free to observe and respond to all the world around me as opposed to the narrow act of looking for and responding to only a specific part of that world. That is, a constrictive manner of vision (both the literal and artistic expression meaning of the word) in which one sees only what one wants to see, in essence, making one blind to all the other picturing possibilities which exist all around him/her.
Where is the sense of discovery, surprise, and delight in making pictures as if one were wearing blinders?
To know ahead of time what you’re looking for means you’re then only photographing your own preconceptions, which is very limiting, and often false. ~ Dorothea Lange
It’s about reacting to what you see, hopefully without preconception. You can find pictures anywhere. It’s simply a matter of noticing things and organising them. You just have to care about what’s around you and have a concern with humanity and the human comedy. ~ Elliott Erwitt
Autumn is in the air and the witch on the dashboard has built a fire. Building fires at Rist Camp is what we will also be doing over the next week inasmuch as night-time lows will be near the freezing mark - great weather for sleeping and day-time (low 60s) hiking.
Last Saturday, while driving to North Creek for pharmaceuticals and groceries, the wife and I ventured off the beaten path and discovered Donnelly Beach in the town of Minerva. I have to admit that it gives the beach a Newcomb a run for the money, best beach in the Adirondacks wise, but ultimately it's in second place.
We also ventured to nearby Olmstedville (population 500) for a look-see at / test paddle of the Hornbeck New Tricks-13. Nice boat. It's on the next-spring acquisition list.
While in Olmstedville, we bought fresh-filled cannolis at a weird little restaurant / bakery. And, while it was not our intention to dine out - we were on a grocery run - I knew of a very good restaurant, The Owl at Twilight that was located in the village, or at least it was 12 years ago. Turns out it's still there and thriving.
So we were first in the door at 5pm - had to get back to camp by 7:30pm for the Notre Dame game - and had a very excellent meal. Add to that the fact that Notre Dame cleaned Michigan's clock so, all in all, it was a very good day.
FYI, there are more NEW pictures at Rist Camp Diaries
You have to believe in something. Everyone does. Even atheists believe in the unbelief. If they didn't, they'd go mad. The misanthrope believes in his hatred of his fellow man. The gambler believes he's omniscient and that his knowledge of the future is proof he is loved by God. The middle-income person who spends enormous amounts of time window-shopping and sorting through used clothing at garage sales is indicating that our goods will never be ashes blowing across the grave. I suspect the drunkard believes his own self-destruction is the penance required for his acceptability in the eyes of his Creator. The adherents of Saint Francis see divinity in the faces of the poor and oppressed but take no notice of the Byzantine fire surrounding themselves. The commonality of all of the aforementioned lies in the frailty of their moral vision. It is also what makes them human. ~ Dave Robicheaux / lead character in Pegasus Descending by James Lee Burke
FYI, there are more NEW pictures at Rist Camp Diaries
The short version is that, on the damp night of September 14, 1901 Vice President Theodore Roosevelt made his legendary night ride from the Tahawus Club near Newcomb, NY in the Adirondack Mountains to the Presidency of the United States of America. The long version is ....
.... On September 6, 1901, President William McKinley, while attending the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York, was shot by anarchist. Vice President Teddy Roosevelt was summoned to Buffalo but, after McKinley's condition had greatly improved, Roosevelt was advised to leave Buffalo in order to reassure the public about the President's condition.
Roosevelt then traveled to the Adirondacks, a place where he spent considerable time over the years, to join his family at the Tahawus Club near Newcomb. On September 12, he, his family, and guides hiked up Mount Marcy, the tallest mountain in New York State. During this hike, on the shores of Lake Tear-of-the-Clouds, Roosevelt received word that McKinley had taken a turn for the worse. A local man named Harrison Hall made the climb to Roosevelt on Mount Marcy with a telegram announcing the president's now grave condition.
Roosevelt was reluctant to depart immediately and informed his wife that because he had just been there, he would not return to Buffalo until truly needed. However, another telegram announcing that the president was dying banished thoughts of waiting any longer. So, Shortly before midnight, Roosevelt traveled by buckboard wagon from the upper camp of the Tahawus Club to the North Creek, N.Y. train station located 35 miles away. The trip (7 hours by day) involved 3 changes of wagons, with fresh drivers and horses each time.
Roosevelt departed from the Upper Tahawus Club, traveling ten miles in two hours to the cabins of the Tahawus Post Office, where he would make his first wagon change. From here he traveled an additional two hours and twenty minutes over a stretch of nine miles to Aiden Lair Lodge, a popular resort for sportsmen in Minerva, N.Y. Roosevelt once again changed wagons around 3:30 a.m. Mike Cronin, the proprietor of the lodge, would usher the Vice President the final sixteen miles. Despite a dark and slippery road, the two would make it to North Creek in record-breaking time.
Upon arriving at the train station in North Creek, Roosevelt's secretary delivered a telegram announcing McKinley's death at 2:15 that morning. Roosevelt had ascended to presidency on the dark, slippery Adirondack roads hours before - hence, Teddy Roosevelt Days in Newcomb, NY.
The annual celebration has a wide range of events; lumberjack competition between 2 colleges with environmental / forestry schools, dances, luncheons, a guideboat gathering, quilting exhibits, wagon rides to Santanoni great camp's farm complex, a guided tour of the ruins of the McIntrye Mine Works at Tahawus and others.
Needless to write, the wife was thrilled beyond belief to meet the President. Teddy gave a rousing speech (bully!) about his love of the Adirondacks and his ideas about / use of the Bully Pulpit (bully!) as platform for getting his message(s) across. He mingled with the crowd and even manned a saw with one of the lumberjack competitors.
Bully for him. He's got my vote.