In my old hunting lodge.
(No, its just the Harvard Natural History Museum)

No, you cannot eat me:

Who is in there?

And you take the most magical photos!!!! Nah, well, but I did get bored today at a work obligation, so I decided to use the pinhole setting on my mini camera. I haven’t used that function in a very long time. I preferred the fake tilt-shift but this one was interesting too. Kind of like the Lomo of olden days without the weird problems with the focus and all the wasted film.

Oh and I also adjusted these to make them look “artistic.” Well, weirder:

We as human beings cannot see ourselves as commodities. We are spiritual beings rather than commodities and we make must work hard to make ourselves heard. If we see ourselves as simply commodities, we have in reality turned ourselves into machines. Cogs in the wheel of the great mechanized revolution.

This piece of art I saw today in the Institute of Contemporary Art exemplifies that as no other piece of art I have ever seen:

**Nope. It was a gauge pipe thing arrangement (don’t know the technical name) I did actually see in the Institute of Contemporary Art today. I went to see the exhibit on the Black Mountain College, which was lovely beyond belief and they were playing music to accompany the exhibit. I turned the corner in one of the galleries, expecting to see a movie of some kind. Instead I saw those pipes and started photographing. As usual in stupid situations like that, I got everyone’s attention and a guard ran over, probably wondering why I was photographing the pipes and the gauges in the museum. I told the guard I wasn’t a terrorist, which I guess is what you think a person who is photographing pipes and gauges actually is. I don’t know.

This is the newsroom at the Boston Globe:

This is the first photo I have ever gotten of that place because on previous trips, the tour guide has told us, under no uncertain terms that we CANNOT take pictures in the newsroom and of course not of the journalists. This time though, the guide didn’t care and neither did the journalists.

I always thought it was funny that we couldn’t photograph in there. Having been a former journalist, I know that journalists of a weak constitution and that they must not be startled by the click of cameras. Any sudden movements and they can go berserk!!!! Well, luckily they didn’t this time.

Another thought I had when I was in there was that there I was visiting that place as an outsider. I’d been in the newsroom before and remembered what it was like to work in one of those places, with the blaring TV screens and the rest of that going on. This time I felt like an actual visitor. Not a bad feeling, I have to say.

You suddenly get hit by a lightening bolt one day and you are transformed. Getting hit by that lightening bolt is painful and so is the transformation that follows, but once you conquer the pain, what is on the other side is great and new and renews your sense of self.

And with that pithy commentary, let’s roll out with fashions in Salem for Halloween this year:

No, wait, sorry, I grabbed the wrong photo. This is my perfect man:

Love takes the tears of pain, and it turns it in
To the beauty that remains

Love aches for (at least one of the people in this photo):