I recently went on vacation with Abbey and friends. An annual trek to a lakefront house in the wilds of Virginia, for a long weekend of swimming and cooking, music and drinking, talking and sleeping. The weather held up this year; so much of the days were spent on the Continue Reading
Another year, another dragon*con. The closest thing I have to an annual vacation. 5 days in Atlanta with friends and 50,000 additional crazy people. Less dancing on my part, this year, for various reasons. It’s a strange time… always seems to include fun, friends, tragedy, illness, food, lust, costumes, and Continue Reading
The hat got around last year… One more week to go.
Another year of Dragon*Con has come and gone. I think I have mostly recovered, now. Though I still haven’t completely unpacked. (What is D*Con? I refer you to last year’s post, or to a currently popular video .) What was new this year, for me? New people, as always. (Tiny, Continue Reading
On my way back from a family picnic in NY. Looking at the photos… my family is so very white.
Click any photo to see the whole set.
The family reunion was at the bass club in San Angelo again this year. Same old everything, but that’s kind of the point. Took Heidi. Family likes her better than they like me. But they’re quite disappointed to learn i’m not gay.
Watkins Glen in NY this weekend. (more on flickr)
So one of my dream locations to photograph would be the shipbreaking beaches in India or Pakistan. When oceanliners, tankers, and cargo ships get too old to operate any more, they beach them in these places, and workers chop them to bits. This isn’t clean, or safe, or tidy. These Continue Reading
But those are some of the points that floated to the surface, when I consider the whirlwind stew of crowds, panels, badges, Diet Cokes, swishy skirts, feathery hairpieces, earplugs, DragonCon TV, people-watching, masquerades, escalators, fountains, cheers, novelty tee shirts, kilts, stompy boots, steampunks, goths, fairies, mostly naked people, Krispy Kreme Continue Reading
Things that strike me about Geneva every time I visit: trees, trees, trees seagulls slate sidewalks farmland porches greeting strangers they big sky the big fucking lake children playing on the sidewalks Queen Anne’s Lace names ending in vowels the smell of fresh, green air
