Background

New York, July 2006:

"Hi." She extended her right hand. "I'm Megan, by the way."
This was how I met Jessica, and lying about her name is a good example of the relationship we shared. I shook her hand casually, absently, while I absorbed the brilliance of Claude Monet surrounding me. With her left hand she brushed her smooth, blonde hair back behind her ear and out of her face. A mischievous sparkle in her large brown eyes would have told me all I needed to know but instead I continued my diatribe.
"Maybe I just don't understand modern art but I think Monet's works might be the only things worth viewing here." I waved my arm indicating as much of New York's Museum of Modern Art as I could in one swing, and sighed. I had stopped at a bench in a room devoted to His 'Reflections of Clouds on the Water-Lily Pond'. She had sat down shortly thereafter. "I mean, honestly, was that art back there simply a chair? Really?"
She chuckled and smiled at me like a mother with her child, "Yes, it was just a chair but that's why it's amazing! Kosuth forces us to question, not the chair itself, but the meaning behind the chair and the implications of its existence as a work of art. It's the very definition of Conceptual." She was very enthusiastic.
I frowned at her, this stranger who could apparently see beyond the material form of the chair into a realm of conceptually implied non-chair reasoning.
Jessica tilted her head to the side with a grin, wondering if I understood. I didn't, but nodded sagely, declaring, "of course, but I still prefer Monet."
It was then that he angrily entered the room, angrily looked around, angrily muttered something to himself before finally, angrily, sitting down in a huff. He had short brown hair and squinty, beady eyes. He wasn't very much taller than me. I had an immediate dislike of him and could easily conjure an image of him as the type of man to physically mistreat a woman.

Like most people who appreciate art, those who had gathered in the room choose to avoid his obvious, seething aggression and filed quickly and quietly out of the room. Uncomfortable as it was, I chose to stay purely out of spite. This was a mistake. Turning to me, he glared.
"Have you seen a blonde?" He growled.
"A few, actually." I answered dismissively, glancing where Jessica had, until recently, been. I hadn't seen her leave although, to be fair, I hadn't even noticed if she'd been clothed. I was clearly far too absorbed in art-related concerns.
"Bah," he spat, storming from the room.
I immediately stood and headed for the exit, not risking his return. Besides, modern art obviously did not agree with me and, more importantly, I was hungry. Maybe an ice cream, a stroll through Central Park, and a visit to the Museum of Natural History before heading back to my hotel would turn the day around.

(Nikon D300, 18mm, f/5,6, 1/1250, ISO 200)

Mysterious Ways

Upon finding this picture, I realize now that my hasty post about my misfortune in the mine shaft at the Grand Canyon was unfair so I'll try to explain over the next few days:

This red-haired diva danced her way into the hearts of the crowd at The Venetian, completely unaware of the true character of the man to her right. I hadn't seen him since a surprise trip took me to New York City in July of 2006 but no amount of time could ever erase the face of a true nemesis. At first, neither of us realized the other was there but with a click of the shutter sudden recognition set in. I knew after almost two years that my luck had run out. The instant after I took this photo, and the shock of his familiar glare ruining my diva-picture wore off, I made my way as quickly and casually as I could for the nearest door mouthing the words 'nice hat' as I went.

Not drawing attention, and thus Casino Security, to ourselves was critical to both of us and that knowledge meant that he would finish the performance like normal but be after me within minutes. He would want what I had taken from the American Museum of Natural History, and from him, in New York.

And I couldn't let him have it...

(Nikon D300, 200mm, f/5.6, 1/60, ISO 1400)

Oo La La!

I'll be in flight once again tomorrow visiting Canada for the weekend. I'm not looking forward to this flight for some reason, hopefully the flights go well. I'm probably just nervous because of the last time I flew. Or maybe I'm just tired. Either way, I leave you with this photo of Paris Las Vegas. I like this photo despite it being very busy. I would have liked to try a shot with a longer shutter speed to smooth out the water in the fountain but, caught in a crowd-torrent swirling by, I was lucky to get what I did without it being filled with random heads. Bonne nuit. (Nikon D300, 18mm, f/4, 1/1000, ISO 200)

More Clownage

Like my previous post, this cute photo was taken at the Pegasus Parade Float Preview. Her clown name was Pop-Sicle. I actually stalked this poor girl for a while that night. The camera I was using was still relatively new to me and I couldn't get the settings right. All the pictures were bad! Too bright! Too dark! Too blurry! So I just kept taking her photo until I got something less horrible than the rest. I realize now that my problem was how low I had the ISO (film speed) set, and how the artificial lights in the ceiling affected the shot. Unfortunately, this clown paid the price for my ignorance. She was a real sweetie for putting up with me so I hope she didn't develop any psychological complexes as a result. If so, then I can take some small satisfaction in knowing I have a photo of 'pre-asylum' Pop-Sicle. (Nikon D300, 55mm, f/2.8, 1/60, ISO 200)

Parades and the Clowns That Love Them

This picture was taken at the Pegasus Parade Float Preview in Louisville, Kentucky. As the name suggests, this was preview of the floats the night before the actual parade (which I was unable to attend) during the days leading up to the Derby. This was one of the clowns that wandered around the Kentucky Exposition Center entertaining the kids (and, incidentally, me). In case you're curious, in this picture, his giant fly-swatter (a setup for some joke about the swat team) is being used as an oar. He also carried, among other things, a picture of some goats in his pocket which he explained were his kids. Jokes, both corny and classic. He reminded me of my father. (Nikon D300, 55mm, f/2.8, 1/60, ISO 200)

The Quality of Mercy

Watching a live performance at The Venetian, while surrounded by merchants as I was at the time, I was reminded (oddly enough) of Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice and so tonight, I post some lines from of my favorite speech of that work.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown;

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,

The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;

But mercy is above this sceptred sway;

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God's

When mercy seasons justice.

- Act IV Scene I, Portia addressing Shylock

(Nikon D300, 36mm, f/4.2, 1/60, ISO 1400)

The Venetian

This picture was taken at The Venetian, a resort, hotel, casino on The Strip in Las Vegas, Nevada. The weather was really nice that day but you can't tell that from this picture because the sky you see here is, in actuality, a painted ceiling. That's right, everything you see here, including the river (with gondola rides) is all inside The Venetian! Such extravagance and attention to detail is put into these casinos. This was one of the rare times when I couldn't wipe the slack-jawed tourist look off my face. Have a mentioned Las Vegas was showy? (Nikon D300, 18mm, f/5.6, 1/8 sec, ISO 200)

You can always tell

This weekend was the Belmont Stakes, the third race of three and the third jewel in what they call the Triple Crown, that is, if one horse can manage to win all three. UPS sponsored Big Brown was the contender this year, having won the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes already, he entered this weekend as the favorite to win. Big Brown was to be the first horse in 30 years to capture the Triple Crown, but instead became the first horse (ever) to have finished the Belmont dead last after winning the first two races. After a couple days and many examinations, his owners say that he is fine. As of Sunday, nothing seems to be physically wrong with him.

Perhaps he was just tired. Perhaps it was just too hot that day. Perhaps he remembered what happened to Eight Belles and had a fear of pushing himself too hard. Or perhaps he was just feeling down since they weaned him off his steroid cocktail.

Or maybe, just maybe, the filly he'd been courting cooed to him the night before the race, "If you love me, then you will lose."

"I will not lose." Muffled by his feed-bag, he argued, shocked.

"Then you do not love me," she stated flatly, flicking her finely groomed mane as she turned back to her stall.

Either way, I admit I was impressed by the power of this horse during his first two races, but it wasn't until this weekend that he actually caught my attention. It was so likely that he was going to win the race that I didn't give it the time of day. But he was so unequivocally last, and not for any reason that's clear to his many investors (read: filly), but simply because it appears he didn't feel like racing.

He just pulled up, knowing he could have won if he wanted, and went back to the stable for some oats, all the while hearing the noise that can only be made by crying, outraged gamblers flushing millions of dollars down the toilet.

As evidenced by the picture of the not-quite-winning horses above, you can always tell what position a horse was in by measuring the depth of the layer of track they're wearing when they cross the finish line. Despite being last, Big Brown was pretty clean. I admire that. My hero.

(Nikon D300, 200mm, f/5.6, 1/400, ISO 200)

Expedition Brown

Known as Indiana Brown to none of my friends, I took this picture along a dusty, mule-worn path descending into the depths of the Grand Canyon. It was right after this that I discovered the old mining shaft leading from the Three Mile Resthouse into the cliffs beneath Bright Angel Lodge. I gently brushed a scorpion from some dry branches I picked up off the ground and lit one as a makeshift torch before entering the tunnel. I won't bore you with the details but some Native American pictographs on the cave wall lead me to discover an artifact that simultaneously proved how all religions were both right and wrong, and made me independently wealthy, but which I then had to give up to save a beautiful, young woman from an untimely death. Sadly, it was too dark to get any good photos and, without proof, there's no point in explaining any more about the artifact or the woman.

If, at any time, you have any trouble envisioning this scenario, just hum the theme song while you read it, it greatly enhances the experience. You can see the bullwhip hanging on my right hip. (Nikon D300, 17mm, f/10, 1/125, ISO 200)

Ever feel like...

I'm back in a hotel and tired. The flights were horribly turbulent. On the third and final leg of my journey the pilot explained that there was some bad weather to get through, and after 30 minutes of rocking around in the worst flight I'd been on he announced that there was a rough patch coming up (coming up??) and we should buckle up and hang on. But how could it get any worse? I naïvely whined to myself.

It got much worse.

I honestly thought the wings were going to rip off the plane. I've never been on a flight where the seat-belts actually saved people from flying haphazardly about the cabin. I think everyone had white-knuckles from hanging on for dear life. So, I'm exhausted and feeling much like a snail at the moment. Time to curl up in my blankety shell for some sleep. Safe. Here. On the ground.

Also, for those that are interested, this picture was taken in December 2007, at the El Yunque National Rainforest in Puerto Rico. (Sony DSLR-A100, 50mm, f/5.6, 1/30, ISO 400)