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Archive for February, 2013

A Murder of Crows


“A murder of Crows” was on Nature tonight that has rekindled my interest in photographing.
A Murder of Crows
One of the world’s most intelligent creatures is highlighted: the crow. The “feathered apes,” as one researcher calls them, possess a sophisticated language of 250 calls and at least two dialects. They also can recognize (and remember) human faces.


My collection to date follows.










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fat tuesday at Dogtown

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Didn’t take many photos but really enjoyed the event!


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It’s no secret I’ve always wanted a Baby Airstream so I was really attracted to Crazy Joe’s hot dog cart. What a beauty!


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little wing

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I turned off the color today and always end up turning back on during the course of the day. This is a Kinglet I believe???

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A curious sunset reflecting off the pines.

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Continued with the color off the next day until I did the pano of Richmond’s first Jewish Cemetery.

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I did take a picture of Chihuly in color last fall.

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M.I.R.A. (O3 collection)


Last year a fellow photographer John Moser reexamined an old technique of book matching prints in different variations and penned his version of it (MIRA).


Looking forward to his up coming show and have pulled up some of my prints inspired by this movement.





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Lost and Found (Richmond 2013)


Stir Crazy Cafe´, 4015 MacArthur Ave. 23227 (Bellevue)

Studio K, 3317 W. Cary St. 23221 (Carytown)


Alexander Gardner Pratt’s castle panorama (Richmond 1865)



Charles Dickens visit to Richmond, 1842

CHAPTER IX (circa 1842)


DICKENS left Washington on Thursday, March 16,
at four o’clock in the morning, having gone aboard the
steamer the night before. He arrived at Richmond in
the evening. He has given in American Notes a full
account of the journey, but in the following, Mr.
Putnam relates some instances that Dickens does not

“Leaving Washington, Mr. Dickens took the steamer
down the Potomac to Potomac Creek. He rose early in
the morning to get a glimpse of Mount Vernon, for he
cherished a profound respect for the great man who lies
buried there. On arriving at Potomac Creek we found
stages to take us to Fredericksburg, Virginia, and as
usual Mr. Dickens secured his favourite seat on the box
beside the driver. This ride and the negro drivers of the
seven coaches is most graphically described in his Notes.
The roads were bad past all description, and seemed to
be impassable, but the negro drivers possessed great skill
and drove through without accident.

“At Fredericksburg we took the cars for Richmond.
After travelling a while we came to a very lonely and
dismal-looking country. We passed plantations long
ago deserted, the houses and barns rotting down, and
the ground as barren of soil as a New England street.
A gentleman told me that the vast pine barrens, stretch-
ing miles away, through which we were occasionally
passing, were, years ago, the same as these barren fields,
for only pines of the most meagre growth could grow on
this slavery-cursed soil. I called the attention of Mr.
Dickens to the sterility and ruin all around us, and he
seemed astounded at the fact that the land was once fertile,

N 177


and the very ‘ garden of America ‘ ! Turning to his
wife, he exclaimed, ‘ Great God ! Kate, just hear what
Mr. P. says ! These lands were once cultivated, and
have been abandoned because worn out by slave labour ! ‘
At sight of this widespread desolation his already deep
detestation of slavery became intensified.

“An incident upon the road added, if possible, to this
feeling. Stopping at a lonely station in the forest for
food and water, we noticed a coloured woman with
several small children standing by, who seemed to be
waiting for passage. After a little time we heard the
woman and children weeping, and some one in the car
asked the cause. A bluff, well-dressed man near us

answered: ‘It’s them d d niggers; somebody has

bought them and is taking them down to Richmond, and
they are making a fuss about it.’

“Dickens heard the answer, and what impression this
separation of families made upon the mind of one who
loved so well the freedom and happiness of all human
beings may be imagined.

“At Richmond Mr. Dickens took rooms at the ‘Ex-
change.’ Here, as elsewhere, large numbers of the most
prominent people called upon him, and a dinner was
given in his honour. Here, too, he visited the tobacco
factories, and saw ‘ the happy slaves singing at their
work.’ But it was a useless task to attempt to blind the
eyes or corrupt the heart of this friend of humanity. All
that was praiseworthy in our people and their institutions
he praised without stint; but he would not endorse any
wrong, especially that of slavery.”

The morning after his arrival the Richmond Enquirer
contained the following mention of his arrival

“Mr. Dickens at Richmond. Mr. Charles Dickens
and lady reached Richmond Thursday evening on the
cars from Washington, and will remain with us till
Sunday morning, when he is compelled to return to
Baltimore. Thence he will go to Pittsburgh and the
north-western section of the United States. He has not
time to visit Charleston at the farther south. He will
return to England early in June after visiting the Cataract.


the Digital Plate

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I rarely do this but grabbed my snap-shot camera and caught what I made tonight for dinner. Eggplant breaded with House Autry Seafood breader, fried in olive oil and a can of MARGARET HOLMES tomatoes, okra and corn, a dollar store major find. I was inspired by this amusing news story : http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/23/dining/restaurants-turn-camera-shy.html

Joshua Allen

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This was on the bulletin board at our local library for a concert this month, a very striking painted portrait of Joshua Allen with a gemshorn.

Joshua Allen learned traditional hymns and tunes trailing a plow and mule, walking in the tobacco fields with his uncle. Born in Henderson, NC, Allen went on to serve as a Marine in Vietnam, win various bodybuilding championships and sing at a gubernatorial inauguration. He also hand makes and plays the traditional African ox horn flute, performing sacred and secular tunes he heard as a child.


I was privileged to be witness to this heartfelt concert!


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Dr. Marianne Kessler


publish or perish

…the great artists of the world are never Puritans, and seldom respectable. No virtuous man–that is, virtuous in the Y.M.C.A. sense–has ever painted a picture worth looking at, or written a symphony worth hearing, or a book worth reading…

H. L. Mencken

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I have a panorama in print in this month’s edition of “Civil War Times” February 2013. I had taken this probably 30-plus pictures, stitched panorama, when I had gone to see the 13th amendment on display. I feel this experience and being an extra in Spielberg’s Lincoln I have some how honored my deceased relatives (southerner’s) who I’m not sure were confused about what liberty really is. It still seems to be an on going quest.