tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55084742024-03-13T03:19:18.347-02:30yytthe place where he is meant to be lostrc-dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16438437966406748687noreply@blogger.comBlogger694125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5508474.post-75628901392331237752013-03-20T00:16:00.001-02:302013-03-20T00:16:38.262-02:30closing in on 10 years...i have moved this blog which is becoming more and more irregular as it limps toward a decade<br />
google is too invasive<br />
feel is smaller is better.<br />
<a href="http://swarving.wordpress.com/">http://swarving.wordpress.com/</a><br />
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so here i am in an area that has what i tend to look for. water and because of that ferries and boundaries. i went without saying that i would enter my manifest destiny way of thinking and go out and make use of this. <br />
<br />
the plan was to hire a push bike. ride down to the ferry at charlotte, cross into new york at essex, bike up to port kent, then take the ferry back to burlington. it would be a bit difficult but within my range of possibilities - some 60 odd kilometres - the unknowns here would be hills. <br />
<br />
everything went pretty smoothly, hired the bicycle with out a problem a hybrid - i haven’t been on a road bike in a long time and those thin tyres make nervous. the geometry was a bit relaxed which caused a bit of a problem on hills but that was granny gears are for. <br />
<br />
hot but it didn’t seem to be bothering me. biking down to the ferry, kept passing these sites that i remembered from the last time and didn’t get a chance to document. the motel and hotel row along shelburne road, which wasn’t the most pleasant of roads to bike along. it seems that burlington like to end bike lanes at the most inappropriate moments. there was an apiary along bostwick road. a ball park and beach in lake road. beaches here are about as inviting as the rock strewn ones along the south coast of england. here though the rocks are bigger and sharper.<br />
<br />
at the ferry, waiting, i rethought everything. i could make do what i had planned but that would mean racing up the east coast of the lake to make sure that i caught the ferry - the cycling equivalent of making time - telling myself that i would return to make the snaps the next day.<br />
<br />
was still undecided on the ferry ride. <br />
<br />
in essex, wanting something cold, and using the post office the enforced slowing down - a great milk shake and a litre of water downed, a walk through an art gallery, a minor ride along the coast - had me decided to return on the charlotte ferry and make the snaps that i saw on the way down. <br />
<br />
my legs spasming may have had something to do with the decision.
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<br />
at the end of last year when i was stubbornly holding to the “all film all the time” tenant, bought a resesky/recesky/recesky build it yourself twin-lens camera kit. really couldn’t go wrong as the kit cost $10 with shipping included. thought about taking it to rio.<br />
<br />
well actually i could go wrong as the kit came with broken parts. thought the camera cool as it was yellow until i realised that the yellow wasn’t light safe. wrote the company i bought it from and received replies that had the appearance of being run through google translate.<br />
<br />
gave up. it was only $10. i re-gifted it.<br />
<br />
found the same camera on another sight but this time it was all black - less hipster but functional i was hoping. for the luxury of having a camera that actually worked there was a surcharge of $2.00. again shipping was free.<br />
<br />
<br />
was trying them out as i was having a hard time using dianas and holgas. to me it seems a bit odd to pay more for the film that is used in a camera than the camera itself and it was pretty much getting down to that. <br />
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saw blackbird fly cameras - in colour - but again $110 this seemed destined for the urban outfitters set. like the blackbird fly camera i had qualms with the resesky/recesky which to make it more marketable was called the holga resesky/recesky it seems that holga is needed to add validity to this type of camera. the main one being that it makes vertical snaps. the instructions say that there is an eyelevel finder built in but my chinese isn’t what it used to be and cannot seem to be able to figure out how to use it.<br />
<br />
put the camera together a month ago but it sat. it sat with film in it until bored and knowing that i would be away from film i tried it out. the excuse was to add more options to my class in the autumn as the gulf between technologies grows.<br />
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it was like having a diana again. because there is no film counter, i had to watch this spinning dial on the side. i even had to remember how many snaps i had taken. the spinning dial works sort of. if i press down on the back while advancing the film it functions perfectly. if not there are long periods before the dial moves. needless to say the spacing between frames can be highly varied. it leaks light - occasionally - not like the true dianas - not the lomography ones. but it was rare. no need to tape up the cameras.<br />
<br />
frames can be overlapped. there is a nice vignetting. apertures can be changed but the lens has to be dismantled and placed back in the camera which could effect the focus if one actually tried to make the focus calibration accurate. <br />
<br />
i am used to a wide angle lens so the more “normal” focal length was a bit claustrophobic for me. i could see the camera as a documenter of things.<br />
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bought two more.<br />
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this was to be an “all digital all the time” wander. there have been postcards traded over the subject of the suspicion of digital, all writing saying that while we all use it, something simply doesn’t feel right. since i was only here - here being vermont - for three days. i reckoned that i would take only bostinha the sony - well and the charger, the extra compact flash card.<br />
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the idea behind this was to see if prejudice became truth. taking bostinha would mean no hassles with x-rays, lighter baggage and that i could make a complete piece while i was here.<br />
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since there isn’t really an object with digital, i downloaded i-photo to have another option for mini books. the logo on the back cover for made on a mac is more subtle than that of my publishers overwhelming logo. <br />
<br />
while there were doubts and glances over at the other lads until we were in the machine heading for the airport coach, i realised that i had used digital for sometime now and really don’t have any problems with the image quality. it only changes my work as it is in colour. i do have to get used to that brittle sharpness equal to an mp3 file when one is used to vinyl.<br />
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it was fun when staying with the lyngberg’s in denmark - having that slide show of what i had done that day.<br />
<br />
i felt like such and adult at the airport. not worrying about film not having to explain to the tsa while watching them swab them for explosives. <br />
<br />
that all ended. <br />
<br />
i thought that i would fit in now but no again behind the times. everyone i saw was using their phones for snaps. while we were wandering burlington awaiting the room to be ready. i was doing the usual. no culture shock. i tend not to look at the back if the camera while i am making snaps. a pity as it seemed that a camera dial had moved from raw to some sort of flower setting. set it back.<br />
<br />
a while later wondered why the exposures seemed long. the iso setting had magically been changed. <br />
<br />
going into lezot, i hid bostinha.<br />
<br />
film or digital rob said as i entered. sheepishly -making sure that the bostinha was well inside my bag babbled on about being film but reluctantly making the move as it is becoming a rarefied world. was saying all of this while drooling over the leica m7 used in the showcase.<br />
<br />
i have to be careful now as i see myself becoming the home for wayward 35mm cameras. almost picked up a sweet nikkormat last week, here there was a black olympus om2sp - which i didn’t care for at the time due to the longer time lag - i found myself fondling the bankcard. <br />
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feeling guilty being there with bostinha, i continued my babble the way carnivores, justify their penchant for meat in front of me.<br />
<br />
so ok this was a mistake, still i was going to make these mini books do all the work from here and have them sent out as if they were postcards and antidote to postagramme<br />
<br />
ah well no, i actually couldn’t afford that as both my publisher and i-photo make multiples they would have to be sent to me and then sent out. <br />
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that’s fine change is good. i can deal with this.<br />
<br />
i now remember the evening ritual when i was heading north of sixty and when following the coastline of the st. lawrence and the atlantic. even though i would find a room relatively early, the next four hours were consumed downloaded, labelling and dumping files as well as recharging batteries. in fátima i would dump the film number the rolls and go to bed.<br />
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i forgot about all the peripherals that make supposedly digital so easy. i didn’t so much run out of file space but battery power. worryingly i watched the percentage drop.<br />
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it seems like with digital i like everyone else. five files on the laptop nothing being done with them. there is no distance from the event to look at them coldly. <br />
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again the illogical aspects of my qualms show. with film i make the snaps, number the rolls and then go out and do something else because of the primitive aspect of the medium makes me delay work - i did notice that the bath in the bed and breakfast has no windows… while the same can apply to digital it really doesn’t. the fact that it can be seen immediately - think polaroid and not looking at it for days after the snap was made - and thus guilt builds when they are left to sit.<br />
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they are sitting though. i prefer to be out instead of in front of a laptop.<br />
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one more nail in the digital coffin…</div>
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sky schmutz from the sensor </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<br />
-looks like he’s dead doesn’t it?<br />
<br />
in the motel room i pull out what pradip gave me in exchange - <a href="http://pradipmalde.com/thethirdheaven/" target="_blank">the third heaven </a>- and was glad that i didn’t dally. in comparison to what he gave me, my drop off looked like something i would have brought home from kindergarden to be pasted on the refrigerator. while his was in a portfolio box, mine was wrapped in black photographic paper bags - two though mind you. while his used archival book tape to make a pristine accordion book complete with mickey mouse gloves, mine was book cloth binding four pieces of definitely non archival raw book board - it was meant to mimic the feeling of the snaps now i feel it looks pathetic. something one would make just before they were allowed to use sharp objects again.<br />
<br />
while mine was as straight forward as us road 24 between el paso and chatsworth illinois. his ebbed and flowed circled back on itself. his was paul graham like mine weekly reader. while mine was the page version of genuflecting in front of the image his pages, spreads and images at time were so interwoven that i had to slow down and actually look.<br />
<br />
as soon as i was marvelling at the dance between image page and spread. the premise would change. black and white, images not crowding the page, space to breathe, people.<br />
<br />
when i thought that i had sussed this out another change. i had to stop i wanted to expand the book like i would a yamamoto but there was no place in the room to do so. the book was a shock from his website, pradip seems so calm, there is a quietness to his work that i thought mimicked his life. now i am looking at a work that vacillates between over caffeinated manic-ness that would put me to shame to the pradip that i had come to (think that i ) know.<br />
<br />
am thinking that if he put the book in his studio i can sneak back and retrieve it before he has a chance to see it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">determined not to be dithering about technologies, i loaded the machine with joãozão and clodoaldo, packed a road atlas but picked up a road map at a rest area on I-57. i had consulted google maps but determined that both options - interstate all the way and the more direct route - weren’t suitable. the direct route was hardly that. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">in truth what even what i had entered into google maps wasn’t really truthful as i was heading to baltimore via southern tennessee. one could think that i simply couldn’t take that deadly stretch of tollways through northern indiana and ohio but i had packages to deliver.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">as i wrote - stopping was a problem until i did but then i was doing my usual uturns, pulling over, hoping out without locking the machine, and heading off. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i found that i was photographing stereotypes - closed bowling alley, the many memorials along the backroads and us41, a monster truck rally stadium . didn’t try to stop myself simply added, wind farms, non descript intersections anything that would make me question rural and southern. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">thought downstate illinois too hilly, the skies to grey. thought of saskatchewan. also noticed the difference in the grain elevators - maize not wheat - and the railway - they seemed less present.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span><br />
<span class="s1">wanted more time in terre haute, vincennes and evansville.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">wish that i could have stopped crossing the ohio.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">liked the confusion of my primitive ways, never knew what time zone i was in always anticipated the state lines. somehow it was neat in summer to head east and lost the hour only to gain it again heading south into kentucky and tennessee. finally losing it at the chattanooga city limits. wonder if that would drive an i-phone crazy</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">two drop offs, one in nashville, which i knew would be relatively easy. people never look out their windows, if there was no movement, i would be safe. stopped the machine hopped out left the package on a table on the porch and drove off. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">the second would be difficult. when i wasn’t distracted by the scenery during the interstate driving. i was making plans. everything was against a seamless drop - a long driveway where i would have to do a uturn and there would be no reason to be there so i would cause curiosity. i could park on the road and walk the 30 metres or so to the house but again movement with windows looking out where no-one is supposed to be. the tug of making time - i was even thinking of what the best time would be - duckish? dark?</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">leaving the interstate at mounteagle, after the climb, the coolness of the air, the lack of traffic, the local shops closed, i finally entered the domain. by then i had decided to drive in park behind the studio, hoping that if i were seen i would be perceived as some wayward farmer, drop the package off at the studio door then hightail it out farmer. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">before i could turn by the field house, i had to wait for three machines to pass. when they turned right by the stadium, i began to panic. what if the puckish platinotypist was having some sort of soirée - there weren’t too many houses left. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">quick thinking had me come up with a plan to hand the package to one of them and heading out but it seems in true hitchcockian fashion they stopped at the last house before my destination. i waved as i passed.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">things looked good. no light were on but one on the upper floor.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">the front screen door was open.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">then things looked bad. passing the gap between the house and the studio - these poor southerners always have to have their outbuildings - i heard chatter. i saw rachel who craned her head. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">it was too late now the only thing left was shock and awe. i parked where i had planned </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">came around the side of the studio in full view, marched with purpose, handed over the packages and tried to leave hoping that they wouldn’t abandon their guests.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">but a bout of manners took over, an espresso and package to take back - the gaul having me come all the way down so that postage - substantial postage - can be saved. i made a run for it as he was getting his camera - some digital thingy no doubt - reviewing what had happened mentally. planning what i will do next time.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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funds to survive for at least a year but that i would have a place for
my studio. <br />
<br />
the funds ran out before the course began, and as for
the studio. with less than a fortnight to go i was still at snow’s
hotel, spending my time in the bar listening to the horror’s the male
prostitute would have to endure by his rich clients, watching the saudi
men attempting to pick up the blond aussie bar keep while buying me free
beers.<br />
<br />
i was out and about every day trying to find a place but
it seemed that i was baffling all the people i had to talk to. when i
asked one agent for a place south of the river - this is 1980 remember -
there was this blank stare as if all she could think of was brighton. <br />
<br />
one agent became angry when i insisted on living alone.<br />
<br />
after
seeing a place that i liked a great deal in streatham, a flat that
opened out onto a garden with my own kitchen and bath - but apparently
wasn’t suitable as the person renting it sighed and said she was looking
for a doctor, i was in the offices of the college confessing to my
dilemma when a retired tutor who lived in peckham, said that she knew
someone who had a place to went in her house along grove lane, she would
ring her and i could go over to-morrow. <br />
<br />
it wasn’t streatham, a
good thing as i was within walking distance of the college - goldsmiths’
then was in cormont road, camberwell was - to my mind - the best place
to be south of the thames as it was close to victoria, charing cross and
the city. i could walk to the oval.<br />
<br />
the following day i knocked
on the door, a lady answered, invited me in showed me the flat - kitchen
bedroom shower up the stairs - shared but in truth she used the bath on
the other landing. she showed me how to use the reinforced locks,
handed me the keys and said that she was off to switzerland the next day
for a month she would see me when i got back.<br />
<br />
that’s how i met
alison, a vegetarian - like me - well not really. she told me that she
was on a retreat once and the soup had meat in it, as i was
commiserating she told me that she asked them to take the meat out. i
was invited to come upstairs and watch the television whenever i wanted -
only did so during the world cup as television wasn’t needed. i had
radio 4.<br />
<br />
while doing improvements to her part of the house she
put in a sink in an alcove for me so that i could not only wash up
without heading upstairs but also rinse my film -at night my kitchen
turned into a darkroom. <br />
<br />
i helped her wallpaper the top floor.<br />
<br />
she
loaded the ford cortina with two women from the states and me and took
us around southern england - corfe castle, swanage, studland bay<br />
<br />
on
the the fourth of july after i had come back from america - actually
the america, which is which is outside ely in sutton in the isle. told
friends that i had walked to america between boston and cambridge -
she had sparklers that we lit in the back garden.<br />
<br />
we traded food,
i met her friends, penny and alec, daisy and her mum, bruce who would
always corner me to talk about his leica m3 with the sumMIcron lens and
wondered if he should have bought the sumMIux instead. <br />
<br />
when it
was finally time to leave britain she helped me move by taking all my
books to the post office - i moved back to the states by royal mail.
when i showed up in december for the external show - which the tutors
thinking that i wouldn’t return, “forgot” to hang my work - i went back
to my flat. <br />
<br />
i stayed there again when i went back to teach at richmond college the next summer.<br />
<br />
i
appalled her when once she arrived back from switzerland early only to
find my largish prints washing in her tub. she confessed that she didn’t
use the bath for a month after that. i promised that i would never do
it again.<br />
<br />
i sent post cards constantly she would reply with letters. at christmas there would be a calendar or something arriving.<br />
<br />
she
moved out to essex - manningtree - to be close to her friends. she said
the place was small but there would be space if i chose to visit. never
quite got around to it. oddly enough what blair did to britain didn’t
much have me want to visit - this coming from someone who had to endure
the thatcher years.<br />
<br />
when she moved to oxford, i continued to send
my usual postings to her until one day, a relative wrote saying that
alison’s place was small and there wasn’t any room for my mailings could
i please stop.<br />
<br />
i didn’t alison was a friend writing her kept her
alive for me. stopping would be casting her off. in the end, however, i
feared seeming a typical overbearing yank in ignoring the wishes of her
family and i stopped.<br />
<br />
earlier this year matthew wrote. matthew
whom i met when he was about three. he said that alison was in hospital
for a bit but was back at her room alert but weak. he was going up to
see her in a few weeks. <br />
<br />
i had realised that in stopping my part
of the correspondence had in essence consigned her to those of my
friends who had passed away. hearing this from matthew, had the effect
of making me feel ashamed that i had listened to her relatives and that i
thought she had died. <br />
<br />
sent a post card feebly starting off since i last wrote… with the intent of crowding her room again. <br />
<br />
not soon after matthew wrote that she had passed away. <br />
<br />
so
now it does stop. but i found this snap that i made of her when i did
finally leave for the states for good. her on the front stairs seeing us
off as we made our way up denmark hill for the train, seeming to make
it seem more like one of my many awaydays half expecting us back.
<br />
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">thinking that baltimore with its infrastructure a complete basket case, would be ideal to force me not to rush and allow time for making snaps.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">this realisation came from trying to simply travel five miles using public transport and finding that it is quicker to take as indirect route as possible than the logical direct one. i thought that i would leave that to another entry.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">t0-day armed with a day pass, i walked into pikesville to wait for the 53 bus which would be along in 20 minutes by the schedule. i could also take the 59 bus which would be along in 21 minutes. logic would have it that if you have two buses along the same route for a while you would stagger - ah logic and baltimore. it seems that when two different buses share a route they come within five minutes of each other - ah now i have started. i was trying to hold off to broach this another.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">the 58 and 60 duplicate their route to a great extent and run within 10 minutes of each other. that would sound good if the buses didn’t run every hour. miss one chances are you miss both. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i’ll try to stop and get back to how i made use of this. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i was heading up to pikesville to go to the post office. that task completed i would await the next bus in either direction to head over to what is becoming a serial ding don ditching - my uncle must be getting gun shy whenever he opens his front door. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">because a bus in either direction wouldn’t be around for a good 20 minutes i could wander the alleys of pikesville and marvel at the empty shops along reisterstown road. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">a southbound 53 left me off at mondawmin where i asked three people where i could catch the number 51 north and got three different answers. i took the 52 instead. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">having successfully leaving the package unseen, i again played the waiting game for a number 51 again either north bound or south bound. another 15 minute wait - more opportunity to make when two north bound 51’s came. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">it is here where the game begins. i could try to catch a number 33 across town to the light rail but who knows when it would arrive. in baltimore it is best to cover one’s bus betting by finding a stop with as many options as possible. this would be the rogers avenue metro station. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">thought that i would be in luck as there was a crowd at the 27 stop but i could also catch the 33 to the light rail. again a 20 minute rate but here no real place to make snaps and i was held prisoner of the schedule as the 27 was overdue. so 33 it was retracing the route of the 51 to cold spring road then watching the bus pack up with students i finally get down at the light rail to head to lutherville only four stops while there are quite a few stops in the less desirable parts of town the good people of ruxton make sure there is no chance of all those rowdy swarthy people get down in their neighbourhood. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">one would think that light rail having its own right of way would be reliable. ah but this is baltimore. after a 30 minute wait i made the 15 minute ride to lutherville.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">while i am only through the outbound part of the wander, what i had been expecting was that with regular transit service i could hop off and on buses to make snaps and while i knew that this would not be possible the way it is in chicago where buses with all their problems run with a schedule that germanic in precision compared to baltimore. there i can get down in a neighbourhood that i am not sure about make a few snaps with the assurance that there will be another bus along shortly. along lower reisterstown road there were all sorts of potential photographs but not being assured of a bus coming any time soon i didn’t get down. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i am sure that if i sent photographs of this area of baltimore to the favelados in rio de janeiro they would be more than happy to send funds to help out those less fortunate than them. i also forgot how there are great swaths of the city that would be considered poor in the poorest of the old third world. i forgot about the devastation along lower park heights, liberty heights, druid hill avenue and mccolloh streets, all of west baltimore, the alemão complex was less depressing and actually more life affirming. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i diverted again.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i also found that thinking that the infrequent bus service would free me up to make snaps was wrong when buses come so infrequently and irregularly, i tend to hover around the bus stop not even venturing from one to another, fearing i’ll miss one and will have to wait another thirty minutes to an hour.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">even with the diversions the total distance of the wander was only 10 miles maximum. it took four hours. this was four hours of not missing a bus - meaning letting a bus go by as i would catch the next - it was four hours as even though the longest time i was on a bus was from pikesville to mondawmin - the total wait time was over two hours. the return trip was 30 minutes of actual travel, an hour waiting. nevertheless a few snaps that seem to have potential.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozCKgSnlLdfx8LSAjDxndA7fPmP5iBZjPC9hUBLsTZNOWGKAjHbHvGmW2fV9NcaQUagq7sEUt71TPe5wcJBrTW4-riIFb6sxUiE64q6HIbpamJge7K8xcVjz7LAFpk0ctZ9k5rA/s1600/pe%CC%81s+do+porco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozCKgSnlLdfx8LSAjDxndA7fPmP5iBZjPC9hUBLsTZNOWGKAjHbHvGmW2fV9NcaQUagq7sEUt71TPe5wcJBrTW4-riIFb6sxUiE64q6HIbpamJge7K8xcVjz7LAFpk0ctZ9k5rA/s320/pe%CC%81s+do+porco.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i did get even with the person who started this temptation sent a resesky do-it yourself twinlens 35mm camera kit.<br /><br />this week-end has simply shown me that the phone part still seems of little use as the phone vibrated again announcing another porn-like text.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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her neighbours think that <b>NEWFIE </b>means that she has a newfoundland dog.<br />still has the house in curling. <br />the flag was ragged and in the back <br />she should get another<br />invited me back for a mug up. <br /><br />for some reason felt somewhat energised.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijG6ouqwrKUnaTBuPbcdSV3GfFsH_MpLHSBwmsVFfWOZ8l_yi1mnu-GF9uBwNcJbng-lXyPbiLEKqunjGqAM7dVpNaWCPLA3WFeIH2BCokeyQ-x-7fbisVJ4-7yz_3IboSZ4EPrg/s1600/pc%CC%A7axv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijG6ouqwrKUnaTBuPbcdSV3GfFsH_MpLHSBwmsVFfWOZ8l_yi1mnu-GF9uBwNcJbng-lXyPbiLEKqunjGqAM7dVpNaWCPLA3WFeIH2BCokeyQ-x-7fbisVJ4-7yz_3IboSZ4EPrg/s320/pc%CC%A7axv.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
praça xv</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWK6oR7mHZ_aHZwCsHnNm-5W2FdHTeiPVXZhySwcSW_O1JufVRpGdGPAxG7ANgXenApqEpdQwSTiH_oM54kzZ8yfAF5TxVZ3CQKHuNej-abWgWXZGZ-kiWTgmmdxOWWOOMMDvcg/s1600/muro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWK6oR7mHZ_aHZwCsHnNm-5W2FdHTeiPVXZhySwcSW_O1JufVRpGdGPAxG7ANgXenApqEpdQwSTiH_oM54kzZ8yfAF5TxVZ3CQKHuNej-abWgWXZGZ-kiWTgmmdxOWWOOMMDvcg/s320/muro.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
rua francisco de castro ao redor da rua almirante alexandrino</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
bondelândia - santa teresa</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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