So you may not know this about me but I like to read, and I like books. I have a couple books, around 1200 at last count. Since I started getting into photography I've been trying to find a way to capture my books, but was never happy with the results. I tried taking several shelves together, just one shelf, just one row of one shelf...and so on. I found myself focusing closer and closer until I settled on a photo I was happy with, the spines of just a few.
As for the books themselves, the Proulx was all right, but I really wanted to feature two of my favorite authors, the coed tag-team champions of Canadian lit, Margaret Atwood and Timothy Findley. If you've not read either of them, get your sh*t together and get on it...
Margaret Atwood stopped during her interview at the Texas Book Festival to take a photo of her interviewer (Benjamin Moser) for her blog or a Twitter posting. This was taken from the upper balcony in the historic old Paramount Theatre near the state capital in downtown Austin.
There are a million bizarre sights in Edinburgh during the Fringe...and this is just one of them from 2009. :-)
This young lady is from Upstaged Theatre's production of 'The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood, which is about Penelope (wife of Odysseus) reflecting on the events of The Odyssey.
Now for the obligatory plug. If you like my Edinburgh Fringe photography...you can see numerous examples of it in my first photographic exhibition at The French Institute in Edinburgh...which runs until November 20th.
i was skeptical about doing this today. i had pulled apart and tried to rebuild the cube that contained the fingers cube, to be able to use it again. i have more unused ones at home but i forgot to bring them. rebuilding the cube was futile at first because for some reason they didn't fit, and all the corners were gaping holes. solved the problem later on by wrapping the cube with cling film.
i was a little short of plaster for this one. the surface was at least three centimeters below the top of the cube, and i was afraid that i wouldn't be able to get my face past the surface of it. this was all i could get in, and the edges of the wooden cube were pressed against my neck and eyebrow. it hurt a little. i think those two holes beyond the facial imprint are holes made by my breathing, a little heavy in effort to keep absolutely still. in retrospect i must learn how to be zen when doing things like these, ignoring my mad throat that is screaming to swallow.
i had planned to get part of my cheek, and had vaseline up to the bottom of my ear actually. but this works too. better, probably, because the circular crop of the chin and cheek complements the curves of the lips.
no one seemed to notice my head halfway down a cube of plaster. mrs mackay came in and asked a question that i knew the answer of ("where has all my gum tape gone?") but i couldn't move. miss doonar came in to say bye. and then miss buchanan started talking to me while i was waiting for the plaster to set, and asked me a question which i can't remember. in response to my non-response i felt her turn around and she said in disbelief, "is she asleep?!" from here i tried my best to keep from laughing. failed at "oh, right, she's molding her face, we can't talk to her," and quickly lifted up my face from the plaster before the many muscles in my cheek and lips contorted into a grin.
i believe this is my coolest mold yet. my sister thinks it's beyond creepy, though.
I didn't think that I would enjoy this book because I don't know The Olympiad at all, but I actually really liked it!.I enjoyed the kind of tongue-in-cheek sarcastic tone that she has going through the book. I do wish that there was actually more to the tale instead of just... stopping.
