Photographic Dictionary

Sometimes I see something and think, "Wow. Wish I'd have thought of that first." Check out a very clever project entitled The Photographic Dictionary created by Lindley Warren. It is dedicated to defining words through the literal, figurative, and personal meanings found in each photograph on the site.

Below you will find tentative and kiss.


Jon Feinstein

tentative ten.ta.tive [ten-tuv-tiv]

- adjective

1. of the nature of or made or done as a trial, experiment, or attempt; experimental: a tentative report on her findings.

2. unsure; uncertain; not definite or positive; hesitant: a tentative smile on his face.

Angus R. Shamal

kiss [kis]

- verb (used with object)

1. to touch or press with the lips slightly pursed, and then often to part them and to emit a smacking sound, in an expression of affection, love, greeting, reverence, etc.: He kissed his son on the cheek.

2. to join lips with in this way: She kissed him and left.

3. to touch gently and lightly: the breeze kissed her face.

4. to put, bring, take, etc., by, or as if by, kissing: She kissed the baby's tears away.

- noun

5. an act or instance of kissing.

6. a slight touch or contact.

Women Striving Forward, 1910s-1940s

Here's a neat set of images that the Library of Congress published on Flickr to commemorate International Women's Day.

If a tree falls in the woods...

I took an independent study photography class this summer, and it was a really great experience. My project's theme deals with the various roles women play, particularly domestic roles. I present a series of images as a visual narrative, and play two "stories" off of each other. There are 20 of them in total, but I'm only showing 4 here. Each image is the size of a 35mm image on a contact sheet (1"x1.5"). All together, each piece is 24"x36".

Obviously, it is hard to get a feel for them on screen. But, you know that age-old question, "If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Well, if I spend two months working on a project and I don't post it on my blog, did it really happen?

Want to know what a housewife does all day?

This is a spoof on a day in the life of a 1950s housewife. Absolutely hilarious.

Supermodels without makeup

This is not something I dwell upon often, but I realize now that I've always assumed that the photographs of models posing on the cover of Vogue, Glamour, Cosmopolitan, etc. are heavily touched up. "Oh, they don't really look like that, someone Photoshopped the dark circles under the eyes away and...poof! Supermodel." Perhaps this made me feel better. I mean, can Cindy Crawford really look like Cindy Crawford all of the time?

Well, according to Harper's Bazaar, she can. And does. In a recent article they photographed some well-known supermodels with no makeup. They look absolutely fantastic. Admittedly, I can tell that the photographer worked him or herself to death to shoot them in killer lighting. But still. Wow.

It is a slow Sunday morning as I write this. I am on my couch in an old IP t-shirt and green boxers, my coke-bottle glasses are dirty, and there is no makeup covering the gargantuan zit on my chin. See photo booth image below. I don't have the heart to showcase the aforementioned blemish (it is not nearly as charming as Cindy's mole). I can say with confidence that I am still entertained by my purple and green Ann et Valentin glasses. Other than that? Bleh. Sunday morning.

My point? At this moment in time, I am finding it difficult to say that Harper's counter argument to what can now be called the "supermodel Photoshop myth" is welcome news.

The Man

I am entirely within my rights to post pictures of my cats whenever I want. So there.

This is my eighteen pounder, Gus.

Hunter

Alright, I'm on a roll tonight. Here's one of my favorites Dido songs.

Plus a quick little Dido story: It's June 11, 2004. I'm in Philly on a work trip with a night on my own to kill. I plan on grabbing a quick bite to eat and settling into the hotel room for a movie. It is 7ish and I am on the way to the hotel restaurant when I grab whatever Philly's answer is to the Memphis Flyer (can't recall its name) and what do I spy when I start flipping through?

One night only. June 11.

Dido. Tower Theatre. 7:30 PM.

%#$#%^##@!%!!!!!!

With no ticket in sight, I hurl myself in a cab and head to wherever the heck Tower Theatre is. I land a sixth row center ticket and proceed to watch the best concert of my life. An older couple sitting next to me feel bad that I'm by myself (although I don't but that's still nice of them to worry) and chat me up a bit during breaks.

It was grand! (PS - I have the attention span of a flea and usually despise concerts, so this story represents a huge break in my normal behavior). And Tower Theatre is quite charming - very much like the Orpheum in Memphis with a little less gold leaf.

Dido - Hunter
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