La cuisine

I took this photo in an abandoned monastery in northeast Philadelphia during a clean-up of the property that the institution I work for had volunteered to undergo.  It was a really interesting place - and I probably took more pictures than I actually cleaned - but it was really hard to keep my camera in-pocket.  I like the color and shading here, although I probably could have done with a longer exposure.

Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby...ain't no magic in the break

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJ7w-z4BvMo

Life's little silver linings:

I know people who know people - sometimes that gets me into private houses in Barbados for free.  This was taken in Barbados in May 2007 on the private beach of a property at which I was staying.  Imagine walking out into the ocean with your snorkel gear and swimming out to coral and sea turtles...it was pretty much like that.  Barbados is fine, but having been to the USVI and Aruba...well, I recommend them just a little bit more.  They both have better snorkeling and scuba.  But hey - free is free.  Also, Barbados has excellent rum.

My favorite verse by Pushkin:

'Tis time my dear, 'tis time. The heart demands repose.
Day after day flits by, and with each hour there goes
A little of life; but meanwhile you and I
Together plan to dwell . . . yet lo! 'tis then we die.

There is no bliss on earth: there's yet peace and freedom, though.
An enviable lot I long have yearned to know:
Long have I, weary slave, been contemplating flight
To a remote abode of work and pure delight.

Sometimes love don't feel like it should

The composition in this photo could have been better, but I really like the clarity I got in the foreground and how it nicely fades to a blur in the background. I think you get a good sense of the sharpness of the cactus's spines...better to see than to touch, in this case.  This image was taken outside of Tucson, AZ in April 2009.  There are a lot of photogenic cacti, mountains, flowers, vistas, etc. outside of Tucson - and the city takes a lot of pride in keeping them that way. 

Je l'ai voulu

Wanting of,
But not wanted.
Pretending, we are egoists.

On this we pride ourselves.
Kept you from me,
Kept me fleetingly safe,
Kept inside, insipid heartache.

But, me alone, still I am.
Me the one who lies at night.
Me, unloved, who seeks love.
Who wants for the sake of wanting.
Out of boredom,
Out of custom?

Perhaps boredom after all.
Or perhaps misunderstanding:
Of self,
Of time,
Of grace.

One last piece missing?
Still incomplete the puzzle-picture.
Obscured until now,
A chaotic understanding.

I have not done all asked,
I have not been all thought,
Yet, I believed having found you,
To complete all I 'ere sought.

And having it all?
And having you?
Lovely, the constructs faded -
Leaving only a pretty ruse.

Submachine

This photo was taken in May 2008 at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, PA.  The prison is an amazing place to tour and an even more amazing place tour with a camera on hand.  This image shows the basement under the death row cell block.  Admittedly, I edited the color and contrast somewhat, but I didn't need to do much to heighten the already eerie nature of the space.  I took some [what I consider to be] decent shots on this tour, and I will probably post more in days to come.

A Reliable Wife - A Review

For lovers of gothic tales such as Wuthering Heights or The Woman in White...or even the modern The Thirteenth Tale...this book is not for you. Very little happens over the course of its 300 pages. In fact, it could probably have easily been written in 100 pages - as far as plot elements go. I can actually do it in a few sentences.

[SPOILER WARNING]: A mail-order-bride arrives in a small Wisconsin town hoping to poison her soon-to-be-husband in the hopes of inheriting all of his wealth, because she is secretly sleeping with his estranged, handsome son.  Eventually, however, she decides she loves her new husband and wants to have the child of his with which she has become pregnant.  The estranged son then rapes her over this change of heart and is beaten by the father to the point of almost death, leading him to accidentally collapse into an icy Wisconsin lake and die.  The end.  [Side note: the father new all along she was at first lovers and in-cohoots with the son.]

Yawn.

The rest of novel is filled with language describing what pretends to be the serious personal-conflicts and inner-turmoils of the main characters.  But, it isn't.  It's just filled with pretentious, uninteresting and unrealistic drivel.  There are a ton of good modern gothic romances out there - this is just not one of them. Spend your money elsewhere.

Digitally Defined

I've driven across the country twice now - this picture was taken sometime in September 2003 (the first trip).  The photo was taken in Yellowstone National Park at Mammoth Springs.  I was less into photography then (and I had a pretty poor excuse for a camera), but I've always been pleased with it.  The image seems to envelop me in its dream-like landscape and I feel the spring's mist warm and damp on my skin.  For me, it evokes wistfulness, loss, sadness and/or the insubstantial - depending on the day, that is. 

The Forgotten Garden - A Review

This isn't a bad novel. It's readable and salacious with plot twists and jumps in time...the problem is, that if you've read The Thirteenth Tale (which was published first) you can basically predict the entire story because they are basically the same book. I'm not saying this was done intentionally, it's just that the similarities are strong.

My case [SPOILER]: A young woman investigates the past of an elderly woman only to discover a history of unknown/unclear identity. Said young woman travels to a lonely town in England to investigate a mysterious house and legacy. Young woman discovers that an elderly woman once had a sibling that died tragically. Young woman discovers that elderly woman is the descendant of a wealthy aristocrat and a poorer woman. Somehow this all ties into one of the character's ability to tell and create stories. Siblings are involved. Incest is involved. Death at an early age, soon after one of the characters becomes a mother is involved. Did I mention the secret garden/area that is supposed to be off-limits? I didn't? Well, that's the same don't-go-there plot twist too.

Like The Thirteenth Tale, this is a good stab at modern gothic romance...it's just that it's pretty much the same stab. If you can ignore that - read on. I just couldn't, and it kind of annoyed me the whole way through the novel.

Definitions

Gnostical:  possessing knowledge, esp. esoteric knowledge of spiritual matters.

Turpitude:  vile, shameful, or base character; depravity.

So, then what?  A metaphysical knowledge of depravity?  Of one's own depravity or of the world's?  Of both?

Maybe.

The title for this blog is taken from Nabokov's novel "Invitation to a Beheading," (False Azure was already taken) wherein the main character is charged with the crime of...gnostical turpitude.  What this crime actually constitutes, is left largely to the reader's best estimation.  Perhaps it is the quality of one who has a depraved disregard for matter; or who gives off the impression of a lone, dark obstacle in a world of transparent souls; or who, simply, has a "certain peculiarity." 

It is either one's own disregard for the substance of life, or life's disregard for the substance of oneself - either way, I'm trying to stop disregarding and being disgarded.

I'm not sure what I will do in this space...only that I need to do something...even a virtual something.