“Brave” & “Avengers”

     I went to the drive-in with my wife the other night to see “Brave” and “Avengers”.

Cheaper tickets, junk food from home and a comfortable place to sit.  So much better than a walk in theatre.  Also at my age (57) the drive-in is no longer about hiding in the back row trying to get some, or dealing with squirmy kids to keep an eye on so we actually got to see the movies.  “Brave” was cute, funny in places, perfect animation and had a moral.  Just what you’d expect from Disney and Pixar.  Good for kids of all ages.  “Avengers”, I thought could have been a longer story, split into two movies, seemed rushed.  Some characters from the comics were missing too.  Over all it was a fun movie; I just wanted more. 

    
     There was some entertainment provided by the other movie goers.  The poor sap in front of us forgot to run his engine now and then (no window speakers/tune to radio station instead) and had to call a tow truck.  This was after he’d already given a jump to another car whose battery had died.

     All in all a good time.  Don’t know why more people aren’t going to the drive-in, it’s worth the late night and the desperate need for coffee in the morning.

Apr. 25, 2012

     I watched “The Iron Lady” last night and was mildly disappointed.  Nothing against Ms. Streep of course, she was, as always, brilliant.  Though at one time, while she was sitting alone on the House of Commons bench, I expected to see her head twisted around backwards.  Right actress, wrong movie!  It’s just that it seemed a bit disjointed.  I’m not a big fan of the flashback, especially when over used.  The descent into madness over the death of her husband could have been written about anyone and didn’t seem to fit with my own memories of the PM.  I would like to have seen more of her earlier carrier, her battles against the gender ceiling.  Also more historical background; what was going on in England and the world at the time.  Maybe that’s just my own interest in history coming out, but a lot of the current viewers weren’t around then and may not understand some of the things mentioned.  Those events mentioned were muddied by the constant returns to her wandering around in her house, slowly getting around to getting rid of her husband’s things and finally letting go of him. 

     Over all it was a good movie, brilliantly acted, but still not what I’d hoped for.  Maybe I was looking for a biography, not a great woman’s descent into madness over a great loss and her eventual recovery at the end.

Two colour photos converted to B&W.

Fallen Leaf Lake Calif.; first attempt at b&w with a digital camera. (2008)

Giant Sunflower (2008)

     Some time ago, while digging in the vegetable garden,

I came across a weed with interesting leaves.  I very nearly yanked it out of the ground;

I thought a moment and decided to let this one go for a while and see what it might be.

Almost over night it grew into a giant with golden hair.  Taller than me, I had to look

into the sun to see it’s face.  It was a magnificent thing, and I had nearly tossed it aside.

      Sometimes new things come into our lives.  Often we don’t even notice; we’re too busy

with our lives to take on anything new.  We need to stop now and then and take a breath,

step outside ourselves for a moment and just look around, see things and give the world a

to show itself to us.

A Day at the Beach (Mar. 4, 2010)

Early morning, the fishermen are getting started.

Someone on the “Miss Sue”, still asleep,

dreaming of the sail to come.

The waves tumble ashore while the Gulls feed and take their morning bath.

Erosion reveals tortured rocks, speaking of time long passed; the earth slowly moving beyond our sight.

Then the pterodactyls came, reminding me that the dinosaurs

weren’t completely gone.  { Birds are more closely related to dinosaurs than the flying reptiles which were in a different family.}

Small things, shells and rocks, washed by the tide, shaped by time and waves, find their way into my pocket.

 

Feathers, fallen from the sky, find a home in the sand and seaweed.

A book I’m thinking of putting together using my photos.

WHAT I SAW

WHEN I TOOK THE TIME

TO LOOK

T. E. Whittemore

pg. 1

Home.

Not always where you live

Always where you love.

My parents sat on this porch before I was born; my grandparents sat here, and my great grandparents sat here. They brought their children and their friends; they laughed and they loved and they passed it on. When they died their memory and their stories lived on in this view. For a few weeks out of a long hot summer we were blessed; we were home.

pg. 2

Early Sunday morning a great brass bell rang, echoing off the mountain sides, calling the faithful to prayer. A beautiful sound disturbed our repose.

We delayed breakfast that day to wait for those who made the long walk to the little church in the woods to return. Staffed by a lucky visiting minister for only a few months of the summer, its doors remain open when no ones about.

Trust and faith in the wilderness.

pg. 3

Slogging down the muddy “Mosquito Trail”, damp with sweat, hot and tired, trying in vain to fight off the buzzing, blood sucking nuisance. Cursing under our breath at the bugs, the heat and the damp, there appears among the great green ferns, an angel. All dressed in flame she proudly sits beside the trail as if daring us not to stare in admiration.

pg. 4

The trees reach up and tickle the belly of the moon.

She laughs with joy as her children watch her from below, laughing themselves in the joy she brings to the night. All is bathed in silver light, lovers always look better under her gaze.

pg. 5

The last of the “Snow Plants” bake in the heat of a late spring morning.

They speak to the passage of time; first to rise in the cold snows of late winter they remain till spring to remind us of the cold now gone and the warmth yet to come.

pg. 6

Feeling the sand between my toes, picking up odd looking stones, watching the tide come in, being inspected by the local pelican, holding hands with the one I love. These are the things that keep me sane.

pg. 7