Photography has a strong base in chemistry. When it was first developed way back when in the 1800's, it was more about the science behind the image than the art behind the image.
To develop negatives, and then individual images, one uses three chemicals that i know only by photography names (not by actual chemical names, unfortunately). They are, in order of usage:
developer, stop, and fix
they must be with the negatives/photo paper in the correct quantities and for the correct amount of time. To fail to do this will result in really destroyed images, or happy accidents. More commonly than not however, the former. So it's important to pay attention to what you put into your light-tight film canister, or baths for print making.
My parents came to visit me on thursday! I was so excited to see them. First we went out to lunch, then I had class, then I met them for dinner. I wanted to take them to this japanese-korean place i liked, but it was full up, so instead we went to this great tapas restaurant that was completely bustling with activity. Yummy sangria (or beer, in dad's case) and tapas all around. Neat fact: there is a drink at this restaurant that has something to do with coffee and alcohol in a shot class, on fire, that you drink with a straw. while it is on fire. weiiird.
Friday morning I went to class, and then the three of us met up and went to "cathedral des images," which is this old stone quarry which now houses these amazing light shows set to musique. The subject of the one we went to was van gogh's paintings. it was incredable. Afterward, we went up to the local castel on a moutain with an adjoining medeival village. views a plenty. Then we took the hour drive back to Aix, where my parents met my host mother, and then out to dinner at the Korean-japanese place. There we met these girls from vassar and welsey who i exchanged numbers with, and then went back to their hotel room, then back to my house. We planned to go to avignon in the morning.
unfortunately, I hadn't watched what i was eating close enough or something, because at about 5:00AM i woke up with some really horrible poison sickness. needless to say, avingon was out of the question, and i spent 90% of the day in and out of sleep in bed, hardly eating. good times abound, n'est pas?
sunday morning i woke up feeling a lot better, and we decided to do the avignon trip. It was good, but after lunch i wasn't feeling too hot, so instead of walking we took a little train around. yes, we saw the pont d'avignon where one dances where one dances. overall it was a good day, finished off by italian food on the cours mirabeau, the big main street in aix. i had a whole bowl of pasta without feeling too ill. success! but unfortunately i tasted too much of my parent's deserts. big mistake there.
monday morning i was supposed to leave for paris with my parents and spend time there with family (tuesday was armistance day and no one had school, so i was just taking monday off). Unfortunately, i wasn't feeling too hot and decided to stay in Aix, where i sat on my bum for two days. feeling much better now!
so that's that. I gotta watch what i put in my mouth a little closer i guess. the figurative film of our weekend together was somewhat messed up by some stupid food. ah well.
in other news, i emailed Gary, boss from the summer, on what chicago was like right now. he says the museum's doing great and that they're looking to house the obama campaign materials! very exciting. He also recommended some good ice cream places in Paris. :-)
4 comments:
We were so excited to see you too! And glad to read that you're finally feeling better...
Which fountain is featured in your photo? I don't remember the moss barfing fountain... really strange looking!
YVVVLM
A brand new poem by Ryk Mcintyre
The minute I read it, I told him I was going to send it to you. Kind of awesome, nu?
A Gargoyle’s Letter to Paris
Paris, You are nothing to me
if not unforgiving. You are the sultry noise
of humanity rolling in its own stink;
of smoke made for nothing more
than covering sin, and the hope of a kiss
that can make it all better. But I see you clearly.
Even from up here, the proof is a picture
that smudges itself with every touch. Trust me-
Immortality doesn’t mean you see better.
It means you just see more and more
of the same. Paris, you are a place
of quiet murder. You are the sum of all things
cemented together because they all landed
in the same heap. You invite your own burnings,
you romance the smoke that makes you obscure.
Paris, your hands are full of stories about hunchbacks
and murderous apes, and you cannot tell the difference.
Maybe that is why all your music speaks of madness,
why all the musicians pour wine down their throats
hoping to either ignite something or else drown.
Maybe this is why you never started a fight you didn’t lose,
I like to hope. I’d like to fly away. I would leave
in the heartbeat it took to say “I hate you.”
But my arms are stone and my backed is curved
as if folding myself into a ball might make my wings flesh.
You see my problem, Paris? You make me contradict myself,
and you won’t let go of anything. Your rivers are thick
with ghosts; your every road, haunted with unfinished wars;
your every building set atop the bones of before,
crushing the landscape until it stops moving.
That is why I do not move. I am trying to fit in.
I dream in camouflage. I wear stone skin
because I am expected to. I cling to the belief
that if I hug my knees hard enough, perhaps
my heart will not break when morning does.
Hi Liora,
I just read the poem by Ryk McIntyre. I don't know who he is, and I don't know what the poem tries to say, and why he has one of the gargoyles spewing all this hate about Paris, but for all I know I just have not yet arrived in the 21st century, and maybe I am grateful for that!
Love LYP
i have to agree with you there. i don't get it either.
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