Sunday, June 24, 2012

Saturday, Saturday

Recently the Houston Photowalk Meetup did a photoshoot at the Antique Center of Texas. We had done one there a year or so ago and it was very successful. Unfortunately Debi was in Hawaii and I was in North Texas so we missed out. Alcy had a rare Saturday off so we decided to do the shoot on our own.

Yes, I know the photograph above does not have a single “correct way to do it” element, but that’s okay; I like it anyway. I seem to have a thing going with shooting through windows and catching the interior overlayed with the outside reflections. Not sure I have any idea why, but that’s okay also. Of course, you might question why I placed Debi almost out of the photograph—well other than that was the edge of the window, I do also. I still had the option not to take the photograph.

I didn’t do very good. Only took a total of a dozen photos in the two hours we were there. I generally look for a theme when I am shooting and I just couldn’t find one. The last time there was a large number of religious artifacts. I know that we did not nearly cover the entire salesfloor but religious artifacts were very rare. Finally I decided on creepy toys—there are always lots of creepy toys in antique stores. After having walked past a couple hundred opportunities, on about my forth or fifth photo of toys they announced that the store would be closing in fifteen minutes. Well, maybe I can go back later for a do over--maybe not.

I wondered if anyone has ever opened the bottle to see what a Givenchy smells like?

Hello! My name is Ralphie and I'm creepy.

After going to the antique center we drove up to The Woodlands for some more night time photographs along the waterway. Like most do overs it wasn’t nearly as exciting as it portended to be. I did get one photograph from a bridge of The George that I like but on 6400 ISO and the limited light the photos don't have much potential except for on screen viewing.

Why do I curse the jazz of this hotel?
I like the slower tom-toms of the sea;
I like the slower tom-toms of the thunder;
I like the more deliberate dancing knee
Of outdoor love, of outdoor talk and wonder.
I like the slower deeper violin
Of the wind across the fields of Indian corn;
I like the far more ancient violoncello
Of whittling loafers telling stories mellow
Down at the village grocery in the sun;
I like the slower bells that ring for church
Across the Indiana landscape old.
Therefore I curse the jazz of this hotel
That seems so hot, but is so hard and cold.
                                   --The Jazz of This Hotel, Vachel Lindsay

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