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This is not a photograph
Wherein, having promised pictures for quite some time, I finally get around to posting them. Most of these were taken in mid-to-late April, early May. I hope the suspense has not generated any real expectations of talent.
I saw this building several weeks in a row, passing behind the Porter Exchange, before I remembered to bring my camera and photograph it.
I have three pictures of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ericmvan from the afternoon we saw the glass sea creatures at the Harvard Museum of Natural History. This is the only one that came out a blur, but it's also the only one with a Duchenne smile. The coelacanth looked more or less like itself each time.
Flowering branches, as I walked around the Res. I loved the color of the sky.
This is not the Arlington Reservoir. This is the little stream on the other side of the dike, where I take a shortcut around to the bike path.
Occasionally it contains ducks.
There was earth-moving machinery where the baseball diamond had been. That could almost be a line from Edward Gorey.
I'm very fond of this picture, actually.
Most of the black and white photographs came out surprisingly well. In normal life, however, the lilac tree does not have a forcefield around it.
I also like this one oflesser_celery. It's like proof that he exists.
As does Harvard.
Two summers ago at Two Lights, I took pictures of stone that looked like petrified wood. Now the reverse is true.
Res ipsa loquitur.
I suspect the intermittent halo effect is a flaw in my camera, but it's not a bad effect.
Walking around the Res again. These are not lovers in a ballad, a twine of roses and briar, but I will say they are.
And this is the unkillable squash-beast, otherwise known as the vaguely goose-like, vaguely dragon-necked gourd we bought for Halloween last year. Then it was bright green; now it's a kind of freckled khaki, but it seems to have mummified over the winter and I fully expect it still to be glaring from the chives come next Halloween.
I couldn't articulate what disturbed me about these flowerpots when I took the picture. I now realize they remind me of canopic jars.
And bridging awkwardly from Anubis to Bast—this is the beautiful little black cat who lives with my brother and his fiancée. Her name is Mischief.
Don't mess with her.
That's it until the next four rolls come back!
I saw this building several weeks in a row, passing behind the Porter Exchange, before I remembered to bring my camera and photograph it.
I have three pictures of
ericmvan from the afternoon we saw the glass sea creatures at the Harvard Museum of Natural History. This is the only one that came out a blur, but it's also the only one with a Duchenne smile. The coelacanth looked more or less like itself each time.Flowering branches, as I walked around the Res. I loved the color of the sky.
This is not the Arlington Reservoir. This is the little stream on the other side of the dike, where I take a shortcut around to the bike path.
Occasionally it contains ducks.
There was earth-moving machinery where the baseball diamond had been. That could almost be a line from Edward Gorey.
I'm very fond of this picture, actually.
Most of the black and white photographs came out surprisingly well. In normal life, however, the lilac tree does not have a forcefield around it.
I also like this one of
lesser_celery. It's like proof that he exists.As does Harvard.
Two summers ago at Two Lights, I took pictures of stone that looked like petrified wood. Now the reverse is true.
Res ipsa loquitur.
I suspect the intermittent halo effect is a flaw in my camera, but it's not a bad effect.
Walking around the Res again. These are not lovers in a ballad, a twine of roses and briar, but I will say they are.
And this is the unkillable squash-beast, otherwise known as the vaguely goose-like, vaguely dragon-necked gourd we bought for Halloween last year. Then it was bright green; now it's a kind of freckled khaki, but it seems to have mummified over the winter and I fully expect it still to be glaring from the chives come next Halloween.
I couldn't articulate what disturbed me about these flowerpots when I took the picture. I now realize they remind me of canopic jars.
And bridging awkwardly from Anubis to Bast—this is the beautiful little black cat who lives with my brother and his fiancée. Her name is Mischief.
Don't mess with her.
That's it until the next four rolls come back!