Photo Friday and the Half-Blood Prince
Let the games begin!
I just finished working on the shots that will be getting posted and I am ready to bleed on the page! Something wicked (pissah) this way comes.
Has anyone ever called you a weirdo because you stood there during a group conversation and just stared at the sky? I get called a weirdo for a lot worse, but there is something about Cirrus clouds that just draws my eyes upward, like Stevie Wonder whilst tickling the ivories. I had my camera in the car (as per usual!) and it found its way into my hands.
This picture is just outside the Middlesex Community College Theater in Lowell, MA. Across the canal there is a church steeple that looks as though it was stolen from a Spanish landscape. Of course I let it slip into the shot of the sky. I thought it was perfect garnish for the cloudscape.
Yeah, I know. Me and the clouds should get a room, but damn it they’re stunning!
The fact that the Lowell Sun building is in the shot also gives a bit of local flavor. That building is ancient and reminiscent of the Clark Kent-esque newspaper world. I’ve considered working for them a few times, but every step I took towards journalism turned out to be a step toward the nut house and a butcher knife. We agreed to go our separate ways. Family has tried to convince me to go into Photojournalism since I was a teenager, but the truth is, I’d end up shot up or decapitated in Afghanistan if I chose such a route because terrorism would not deter me from taking a picture. So let’s just look at pretty pictures of the sky and enjoy my long and comfortable life of landscape photography, shall we?
I went down the pub, sat in their wide open window, drank a cider, got hammered, told every one of my friends exactly why I liked them, and then took a picture while hanging out said window. This is the street side of The Old Court in Lowell, MA. I love this pub.
The bartender’s name is Bean (I believe) and he sounds like Ishmael from Moby Dick after intensive dental surgery. (Seriously, I can only understand every third word this Irish bastard says, but I love him. And he knows I drink Magners so we needn’t converse at all.)
They were playing live music this evening; two fiddlers and a guitarist. I thought of taking their picture as well, but the urge was soon destroyed by the commencement of being tore up. Yes, I know; I never actually get steaming because I am too much of a lightweight to ever let myself drink that much, but still…I shouldn’t drive after half a pint. Not sure why that is since I come from truly Irish blood. Perhaps I am the evolution of my bloodline, a non-alcoholic. Aces.
In case you forgot what I looked like when I’m being a jackass, this is Robyn and I on our way down the streets of Lowell. She is without her roller blades in this picture. As am I…though, I do not in fact own roller blades, so not so strange an event as you may have thought.
I have roller bladed once, it was a cacophony of hilarity. Apparently, I’m even amusing on wheels. Especially when I am careening towards solid objects with little control or inner censor. It sounded a lot like, “Don’t let go, (woooosh) you fuckers!! Tell my wife I love her! (SMASH! Thud, Chortle, chortle…gargle) Yeah, glad you’re amused…ass.”
Even injured, I’m a lot of fun, I’m told.
(And I just realized, interesting typo…Rollerbalding. A spectator sport? That remains to be seen.)
Smashing photos! I too spend a lot of time looking up in social situations, either to look at clouds or look for snipers.