In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Tour Guide.
If I liked something about where I live, which I don’t, it would be the sheer ugliness of the place. When I see death and decay, I know I’m home, sort of.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Weathered.
As per request, here’s another weathered snap from my hometown. I guess now is the place where I provide you with details about the image, what’s in the picture and what the heck it’s all about, alas, I have no idea.
I’m not very home in my hometown. All I know is that this is a detail on the facade of some building or another. Maybe a musician lived there in the Middle Ages, but now it’s a pawn shop. An appropriate downward spiral. Here you go.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Weathered.
I’m fascinated with the American fascination with historical architecture. Where I live, everything is by default ancient, or at least old and weathered. Even the perfectly insignificant and uninteresting small town where I’m currently residing dates back to the twelfth century.
It has all the obligatory medieval props: remains of the city wall, cobblestones everywhere and the plague column. The poor clueless people built it to ward off the plague, rather than building a proper sewer system. Duh.
Autumn is dead. Here are mugshots for its tombstone. It was back in October when one could still go out without risking death of exposure. Oh well. One more reason not to go out.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Transformation.
In response to Cardinal’s Changing Seasons challenge.
I thought I’d never go out in November. And I didn’t go out. I rode a bike. That was my third attempt at the bike after fifteen years. It went poorly, and I don’t get farther than two kilometres. Then I collapse, catching for breath and fending off a heart attack. Obviously, yoga doesn’t prepare you for aerobic activities.
I deeply regretted venturing out. I nearly killed myself. I’m suicidal, perfectly normal, but dying while biking isn’t my preferred way to go. I also had the bad idea of revisiting my childhood woods. Apparently, they’ve been abandoned ages ago, so I was drowning in swamps and fighting through wild vegetation. Next time I’ll bring my machete.
Except there will be no next time. Even if I’m alive to see December, I’m not fucking crazy enough to go bike riding in December. And since I live in the middle of nowhere with little to no public transport, and since I’m not a car owner, and since I hate walking (apart from everything else), I don’t think there will be an opportunity to shoot changing seasons. Maybe from the window. As I said in October, I’m not going out the next month.
October is almost over, and so is the Changing Seasons challenge, and so are my dreams, hopes and desires. I’m kidding! I don’t remember ever having any. I do have photos though.
Changing Seasons is (soon was) the best challenge ever. My enthusiasm about this photo challenge is no way comprised by the fact that I hardly ever took part in it. To enjoy it while it lasts, here are my photos for this year’s September, which I actually did bother to take specifically for this purpose. Otherwise, I’m rarely bothered to take photos, unless mobile ones, which aren’t real photos really.
Here are some gritty city snaps from my latest business trip adventure. Spending about four hours on trains and buses to get somewhere and another four hours to get back is only bearable when I spend time snapping everything.
Shot with my iPhone 8 and edited in Adobe Photoshop. Kidding. I don’t do Apples and I’m not a fan of Adobe either. Shoot me. Actually, shot with my Android-running Lenovo mobile, which is as badass as any Apple, and edited in Snapseed, which is, hands down, the best phone photo editing app around.
I know. This looks like a totally random gallery I threw together when drunk. There’s however a hidden idea! All Most of these pictures have textures, patterns and structures in them, which are quite simple and straightforward and striking. That doesn’t really explain anything. So just take my word for it.
Mara Eastern 