I might do a Mirror series--if I can remember to snap myself in public restrooms and other places with mirrors.
I'd already photographed myself in the parking garage I walk through on the way to work--I took it again to show the snow piles.
This is the sort of winter that scares me about getting older:
if you can't climb like a mountain goat, you can't scramble up and over the icy snow hills to cross the street or get on a bus.
This morning I ran out to photograph a City front-end loader clearing the corners of sidewalks, for pedestrians. Nice, but it takes a few days before the City gets to this. Street clearing first. And whether or not home-owners shovel is another matter again.
Speaking of City services, six cop cars pulled up outside the store yesterday---clearing out the corner dealers again... This has been happening every couple months or so? The dealers move elsewhere and then back again.
Same with homeless people--the City moves the encampments, but until there's some massive shift in social services, etc. they'll pop up elsewhere. What are they going to do, disappear?
"Homeless" is now "unhoused", you may have heard, in an effort to remove stigma. It's the euphemism treadmill at work: a term that has become onerous ("retarded") is replaced with a neutral one ("learning disabled"), but unless other things change too, the new name becomes onerous in turn.
Here's a funny switcheroo in meaning, though: the other day Big Boss was wearing a T-shirt that said DRIP.
I asked, and he explained that drip means a cool style. (Hip-hop origins.)
He hadn't heard the old phrase I told him--what a drip, to refer to a loser.
Mostly anything I post on IG, I also post here--though not vice-versa (I write and post MUCH more here), but I realized I'd forgotten to post this cat teapot I got from my workplace.
It's painted redware (red clay pottery) by Norcorest, 1959––.
The spout is broken but I wasn't going to use it anyway (the paint is peeling, for one thing).
And here, below, is a chenille bedspread I pulled from textile recycling. It's dingy but I think would clean up well--I priced it $18, hung it in BOOK's, and . . . it didn't sell.
I marked it down to $12, and my coworker Emmler bought it. I felt bad though-- we workers can buy stuff out of recycling for 50 cents. If I'd known she was buying it, I'd have given her that deal. (She's a single parent with no money--I don't know how she's making it.)
Anyway, isn't it pretty?
Soaked in vinegar, it got clean but remained yellow. The designer Gayle Kirkpatrick did sportswear in the 1970s.
This dress is small--way too tiny for me--but would be a great candidate for a visible mend makeover...
