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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

Last Weak  |  Index  |  Next Weak

Weak XXXII

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7 August 2015

gratuitous image

No. 5,621 (cartoon)

May I tell you something insulting?

I suppose so.

Let me think of something; it won’t be hard.

8 August 2015

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Lenscap Photo Show

I told Amelie about one of the better photographs I’ve made recently, an image of a man’s forearm. The view of his hand and elbow was obstructed by stacks of boxes, leaving only a glimpse of a hairy arm suspended in space.

Or at least that’s the way I remembered it. I’m still a little out of practice with my Leica after a fifteen-year hiatus, and forgot to remove the lenscap before releasing the shutter.

Oops.

To my surprise, Amelie said she loved my photograph and that I should create a series of images made with the lenscap preventing any light from reaching the sensor. I was somewhat embarrassed that I hadn’t come up with such an obviously good idea. Conceptual art is the lazy person’s friend and thus my favorite medium.

9 August 2015

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Immigration Point Finger

I used to think of myself as a technically accomplished photographer, but that was before I started making photographs with my electronic gizmo nominally called a phone. I can never get the damned thing to work reliably, and so only use it as a camera on those rare occasions when I don’t have a proper camera with me.

I made a snapshot with my phony camera at Immigration Point this morning whilst cycling through the Presidio. When I was putting the doodad away, I accidentally photographed the remaining third of my amputated right index finger. I was pleased with the serendipitous slip; the image was better than many I’ve intentionally made in recent months.

I’m somewhat troubled to note that this is the second time in as many days that I’ve noted my technical incompetence. I fear it’s time to read my first camera manual in a few decades.

10 August 2015

Fruitflies and Me

I raise fruitflies. They’re the perfect pets: they’re active and healthy for their entire lives, so I never have to take them to a veterinarian. They never live longer than a day, so I don’t get attached to them; I never even bother naming them. Also, they like wine in general and Lina’s wine in particular.

Lina always brings really good wine when she visits my studio, the kind of wine that costs well over five dollars a bottle. I always invite her to sit by the hidden entrance to my fruitfly colony. It doesn’t take long for a fruitfly to drink itself to death in her glass. (Itself? Herself? Himself? I never could sex the little rascals.)

I always offer to remove the microcadaver from her glass, but she refuses and insists on a new glass. Thoughtful hombre that I am, I selflessly volunteer to drink her wine, fruitfly corpse and all. Protein and wine in the same sip makes for a balanced diet!

11 August 2015

A Pathetic Obituary

Noah told me that some cretin robbed a liquor store the other day. He then hijacked a car at gunpoint and led police on a high-speed chase that ended when he drove the stolen car into a telephone pole. The idiot’s final error of judgment was to get into a firefight with some angry cops who spend a lot of time at target practice. According to the coroner, the hoodlum was almost certainly dead before he hit the ground.

Noah and I tried to be good San Francisco liberals and find some remorse over the loss of a human life, but couldn’t. The best I could do was to note that at least the thug died doing what he loved to do. I hope I’m that fortunate and die while I’m still in motion.

12 August 2015

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Ted Kennedy Memorial Reading Glasses

I recently bought half a dozen pairs of cheap reading glasses for fifteen dollars, which included shipping from China. Each identical pair was wrapped in a cellophane envelope, and thus not exactly identical. I enjoy photographing such subtle differences, so I did.

I wasn’t happy with the working title, Five Pairs of Reading Glasses. (I was wearing the sixth pair.) I then remembered that Linda had an affair with Ted Kennedy; he left his glasses in her bedroom. When she called his office to return them, the receptionist laughed and told her to keep them as a souvenir.

“He’s always doing that,” she explained, “we have a case of them here.”

And that’s where I got the title, Ted Kennedy Memorial Reading Glasses.

Stare.

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©2015 David Glenn Rinehart

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