without magazines

. . .what will doctor's offices do?

photojournalism, death of

On the day the World Press Photo Awards were announced, this seems appropriate. A couple of years ago, photojournalism was declared dead (viz: the lens blog in the New York Times). It certainly seems that way—no more magazines, no more assignments, no more money to pay for people to travel around their neighborhoods and the world and risk their lives and hearts.
    At Life, I used to work with some of the best documentary photographers in the world. These days they either work for National Geographic, try to transition into "art" photography or teach workshops that create more photographers who can't find work. Everyone's a photographer now—or a writer, as I was. Twitter and post, blog and Facebook and Instagram.
Yet I remain hopeful that someday there will be a new model to pay journalists. I can tell the difference between someone with a Flickr account and a real photographer; I can tell the difference between a real writer and a blowhard; I can tell the difference between a real actor and Snookie. (I can also tell the difference between me and a real photographer.) And I'm pretty sure that the average reader/viewer can as well. And sooner or later, they'll be willing to pay again. Maybe not for photographs or books on paper, except in private collections, but for the eye, the voice, the heart. People can tell.

breakfast

Not sure what this substance is, but it sure is all over the place. . .

Word: This is the view from my window (well, one of them), for those of you (few, I'm sure) who don't know. Those of you who do know the view may be interested to learn that my time at the gym and eating lettuce and lemonade have been repaid. I am allowed to try going off that blood pressure med. Now all I have to do is keep it up and off. Mayhap I should begin taking the stairs?

truck farm

These Brooklyn guys have the right idea: mobile vegetable gardens!  It started when one of them had no garden space and a junk truck. So he drilled holes in the bed for drainage and put in a growing system developed for rooftop gardens. Apparently they now have a fleet of 25 for school demos. Thanks to Dianne for sending this in.

best coffee ever

Are you coming to visit? If you are (or if you are visiting my sister or my daughter), you will need to know how to make coffee in the morning if you get up before I do, which is likelier than not. Here are some handy directions to use of the Chemex coffee pot (and filters) which makes the best coffee in the universe, in case you didn't know. Personally, I prefer to use dark espresso from Zabar's in it.

twinkle toes

Kathleen submits this pic of my feet in the shoes she gave me.

Guess I won't get run over at my desk. Safety first!

spring

I know, it's February. But already I am dreaming about spring. The shad blooms in Block Island. The peonies in Missouri I never get to see because I am in Block Island painting floors. Apparently, this unseasonable February has made others dream of spring as well. They call wanting to book Block Island in May. Now I fully anticipate being there myself then, but an unheated house by the ocean in the spring can be for the hardy. Or not—you just never know.
        But doesn't this painting make your heart sing? It's a Van Gogh I've never seen called “Garden in Auvers,”now on loan to the Philadelphia art museum.

breakfast of losers

 About that fast. Yes, I know the so-called "Beyonce" lemonade fast is terrible for you. Nonetheless, in the hopes of dropping some weight and my blood pressure, I went on a modified version of it (if any one cares, I'll share) for a week and lost about 8 pounds. I am now trying to drop two more. By Tuesday. When I try to convince my doctor to take me off this damn medication.
Who can explain what these items are and why I have chosen them to start my day?

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Does anyone have anything they'd like to share?