As we continue to seek out your fascinating poetry and photography, it has become increasingly apparent that not only does your viewfinder capture the mundane to the silly and thought provoking, but that by you sharing it all with us, you allow us a peek into your colorful imagination and gentle heart, leading us into the deepest places inside of you, your soul! 🤗
Yeh I think I’ve used this once but I’m not keen on it - for me the photos are an essential part a
Of what I do and I want to show them at their best - which for now is at ‘large’ size … I’ve do mention this to substack quite often that for me one of the biggest enhancements they could do would be to let us have more control over how our newsletters look - especially in terms of photographs …
Helpful to number the pics, so as to correlate the locations. What IS Lucca? Puccini?
The smartphone selfie is the epitome of rambunctious frivolity - eminently apt for dispersal, generally by the wind. The silver-chloride backed film stock, as a successor to the tin plate, the glass plate and the dinner plate, gave us the expression "Fiver for the lot, including all the negatives." Sure, all of them but one. The Polaroid - beloved of the illicit lover for want of the pesky intervening chemist in the development process - instilled its own feeling of "now or never - this is it - never before, never again." The care taken with a Polaroid - which in its time was the smartphone's precursor for rambunctious frivolity - gave the photographer more a feeling of "Five thousand for the lot, and there are no negatives."
I have considered numbering before but with the photograph series I feel it just gets in the way a little - I’ll certainly consider adding some more info - The one in question is a statue of the composer Puccini taken in his home town of Lucca, Tuscany, Italy
I am an aficionado of grand opera, and of Puccini in particular. In the ELO song "Rockaria!", we hear the words, "She's sweet on Wagner, I think she's out for Beethoven, she loves the way Puccini lays down a tune and Verdi's always creeping from her room."
This is obviously arrant fantasy on Jeff Lynn's part: no one is sweet on Wagner these days, for a start, and Verdi never crept anywhere, but announced his arrival with slaves and hammers on anvils. He was born next door to the Scala Theatre in Milan and was as ostentatious in his music as the velours draperies were on the stage. I like Verdi, but I do need to turn the volume down quite a bit. I like Puccini and require to turn his volume up quite a bit, as the modesty of his beginnings can be heard throughout his repertoire. Verdi knocks you dead with his creeping anvils; Puccini extracts your heart with keyhole surgery, as he lays down his tunes.
I love how you’ve sequenced these images. I found myself hooked right from the start, increasingly anticipating the next, then the next image as I moved through the sequence.
Through the windows of the soul: A pilot study using photography to enhance meaning in life
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2212144713000343
As we continue to seek out your fascinating poetry and photography, it has become increasingly apparent that not only does your viewfinder capture the mundane to the silly and thought provoking, but that by you sharing it all with us, you allow us a peek into your colorful imagination and gentle heart, leading us into the deepest places inside of you, your soul! 🤗
Thank you REW … I find it somehow less daunting than I thought I would sharing my work here … it seems a very positive platform
Thanks for the excellent Science Direct article, Rew!
Great stuff!
yes indeed!!!
Nice, Richard. Excellent photos.
I've tried using the gallery feature when uploading photos, but it looks like no one is using it.
Have you given it a shot?
Yeh I think I’ve used this once but I’m not keen on it - for me the photos are an essential part a
Of what I do and I want to show them at their best - which for now is at ‘large’ size … I’ve do mention this to substack quite often that for me one of the biggest enhancements they could do would be to let us have more control over how our newsletters look - especially in terms of photographs …
I found the viewing of these photos to be very satisfying.
Thank you David - I’m glad you liked them - I’m enjoying putting these series together from the archives ...
Helpful to number the pics, so as to correlate the locations. What IS Lucca? Puccini?
The smartphone selfie is the epitome of rambunctious frivolity - eminently apt for dispersal, generally by the wind. The silver-chloride backed film stock, as a successor to the tin plate, the glass plate and the dinner plate, gave us the expression "Fiver for the lot, including all the negatives." Sure, all of them but one. The Polaroid - beloved of the illicit lover for want of the pesky intervening chemist in the development process - instilled its own feeling of "now or never - this is it - never before, never again." The care taken with a Polaroid - which in its time was the smartphone's precursor for rambunctious frivolity - gave the photographer more a feeling of "Five thousand for the lot, and there are no negatives."
I have considered numbering before but with the photograph series I feel it just gets in the way a little - I’ll certainly consider adding some more info - The one in question is a statue of the composer Puccini taken in his home town of Lucca, Tuscany, Italy
I am an aficionado of grand opera, and of Puccini in particular. In the ELO song "Rockaria!", we hear the words, "She's sweet on Wagner, I think she's out for Beethoven, she loves the way Puccini lays down a tune and Verdi's always creeping from her room."
This is obviously arrant fantasy on Jeff Lynn's part: no one is sweet on Wagner these days, for a start, and Verdi never crept anywhere, but announced his arrival with slaves and hammers on anvils. He was born next door to the Scala Theatre in Milan and was as ostentatious in his music as the velours draperies were on the stage. I like Verdi, but I do need to turn the volume down quite a bit. I like Puccini and require to turn his volume up quite a bit, as the modesty of his beginnings can be heard throughout his repertoire. Verdi knocks you dead with his creeping anvils; Puccini extracts your heart with keyhole surgery, as he lays down his tunes.
I love how you’ve sequenced these images. I found myself hooked right from the start, increasingly anticipating the next, then the next image as I moved through the sequence.
Thank you Paul - there is always a reason for the ordering - but also always open to interpretation!
Lovely polaroids. I must dig mine out one of these days...
I just love Polaroid always have - I yearn for the good old days of genuine Polaroid films …
Number 4 is certainly..... interesting. I can't tell if that's a mannequin or a human.
It’s a sculpture - ancient I think - taken in the Victoria and Albert museum in London - I seem to recall there was a valid reason for it at the time!
Like during WW 2, I'd guess.....
Insta-subbed to your substack. great work all around! Thanks for sharing