Bosca Dubh

splash your great pines

Whirl up, sea?
whirl your pointed pines,
splash your great pines
on our rocks,
hurl your green over us,
cover us with your pools of fir.

Oread by H.D.

Reid State Park, Georgetown, Maine. 1912 Graflex pinhole, ~5 minutes’ exposure.

þú þök að fjúka út á brot sjó

þú þök að fjúka út á brot sjó
. . .
You roofs blow out into the stormy sea

gobbledigook, sigur rós

Reid State Park, Georgetown, Maine. 1912 Graflex pinhole, ~5 minutes’ exposure.

Now I reach across time to take hold of your hand

I’ve searched through the hills and I’ve read all the words
Now I reach across time to take hold of your hand

Molly Ockett’s Song, Marge Bruchac

Molly Ockett’s grave, Andover, Maine.

Now see these:

• Primary colours from Aperture First
• untitled from taraville
• Farm Road, 3:50 p.m. from A Walk Through Durham Township

With what deep murmurs

With what deep murmurs through time’s silent stealth
Doth thy transparent, cool, and wat’ry wealth
Here flowing fall,
And chide, and call,
As if his liquid, loose retinue stay’d
Ling’ring, and were of this steep place afraid;
The common pass
Where, clear as glass,
All must descend
Not to an end,
But quicken’d by this deep and rocky grave,
Rise to a longer course more bright and brave.

The Water-fall by Henry Vaughan

Gooseberry Falls, 4×5 Graflex pinhole.

Now see these:

• plaza from myphotosquare
• evening dune from riesenthal
• Newhailes Evening from David Bird

alas, o highway, you long for the cars

This is what the highways will look like when we’re gone. Graflex pinhole, 4 minute exposure (there were cars on the road, but they were moving much too fast to be seen).

Now see these:

• Autumn Temple from Montmartre
• Loungin’ POV from a view from the 6oh lens
• From the fields of Sk?ne (II) from 365,000 words
• MultiManuela from Jao.K

Lower Falls

Gooseberry Falls, Minnesota.

cascade

Gooseberry Falls, Minnesota.

Harbor’s Edge

Grand Marais, MN.

Basalt

At the seawall on Artists’ Point, Grand Marais, MN. You can’t tell from these pinhole pictures, but the inland sea of Lake Superior was pretty violent: the waves pounding these rocks were quite impressive. But the pinhole, intrepid and unflappable, sees only the gentle peace of the basalt formations: zen master in a wooden box.

Artists’ Point

Artists’ Point, Grand Marais, MN.

Harbor Light

Entrance to the Grand Marais harbor, as seen from the seawall by Artists’ Point. The odd texture of this photo was caused by a sticky slide on the film holder: I had to jam the slide shut, which caused some wrinkling.

Pinhole Cherry #2

The Spoonbridge (of course) at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, as seen through the f902 pinhole for about 3 minutes. (Note the ghostly figure in the foreground: you have to stand pretty still for the Graflex to notice you…)

Among the Moabites is up now on Pseudopod. You can read the story at Cherry Bleeds, and find other things I’ve written if you’re so inclined.

Pinhole Cherry

The Spoonbridge (of course) at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, as seen through the f902 pinhole for about 3 minutes.

Among the Moabites is up now on Pseudopod; I haven’t heard it yet (we’re heading to Grand Marais this morning, so I probably won’t get a chance to listen until this evening), but I’m sure it’s done with the same panache they bring to all their stories. You can read the story at Cherry Bleeds, and find other things I’ve written if you’re so inclined.

strawberry pots

If you like scary stories and weird tales, you ought to be listening to Pseudopod, the horror podcast of the Escape Artists empire (which also includes the new PodCastle fantasy podcast and the venerable Escape Pod science fiction podcast). I’ve been listening for about a year and a half now, and I’ve been thrilled and frightened by brain-eating zombies, vengeful ghosts, and all manner of unsettling demons.

I mention this because an upcoming edition of Pseudopod will be my story “Among the Moabites,” which appeared in Cherry Bleeds last September. It’s a weird little story, and I can’t wait to hear what they do with it.

Hidden Falls 3 – Summer Retreat

for a while
I hide under the waterfall
start of the Summer Retreat

Basho

Hidden Falls 2 – Ghost by the Water

Hidden Falls, Nerstrand Big Woods State Park.

The spectral figure by the water is a fellow camper who was throwing sticks to his dog (which didn’t even register on the film). One of the things that I’ve found fascinating in this excursion into pinhole photography is that the long exposures add a dimension of time to the otherwise two-dimensional image; you can see, in the three minutes the shutter was open, what things are permanent (or nearly so) and what things are not: a fast-moving dog leaves no trace; his master leaves just a blur; moving water is reduced to streams of white; and limestone walls abide. Add to this the long set-up time (I’m down to about two or three minutes to get myself ready to take a shot–set up tripod, mount camera, lash film holder to camera, remove dark slide, glance at watch, open shutter, wait), and the long developing process (standing in the old coal room in my basement in total darkness with five trays of liquid–soak, developer, stop, fix, wash–using an iPod playlist of 5 minute songs as a timer), and I’m starting to get glimpses of a different way of seeing time, and a better understanding of patience.

Let a man take time enough for the most trivial deed, though it be but the paring of his nails.

Henry David Thoreau

Hidden Falls

Hidden Falls, Nerstrand Big Woods State Park.

dimly seen through the mists of the deep

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
‘Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

The Star Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key

Fort Snelling historical site, from the big round tower.

We were not made eternally to weep

We shall not always plant while others reap
The golden increment of bursting fruit,
Not always countenance, abject and mute,
That lesser men should hold their brothers cheap;
Not everlastingly while others sleep
Shall we beguile their limbs with mellow flute,
Not always bend to some more subtle brute;
We were not made eternally to weep.

The night whose sable breast relieves the stark,
White stars is no less lovely being dark,
And there are buds that cannot bloom at all
In light, but crumple, piteous, and fall;
So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds,
And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds.

From the Dark Tower by Countee Cullen

Washburn Water Tower, of course. Still trying to get that darned pinhole to work…

What I thought was an end

What I thought was an end turned out to be a middle.
What I thought was a brick wall turned out to be a tunnel.
What I thought was an injustice
turned out to be a color of the sky.

from A Color of the Sky by Tony Hoagland

pier 2

1912 Graflex pinhole.

Now see these:

• Dame’s Rocket (Hesperis matronalis) from A Walk Through Durham Township
• hydrangea from 1965 monochrome

young with buoyant blooms

I never knew the earth had so much gold—
The fields run over with it, and this hill
Hoary and old,
Is young with buoyant blooms that flame and thrill.

“Feuerzauber” by Louis Untermeyer

Now see these:

• Beanstalk from HELLO
• Twist from Wood | Stone
• Forward from Aperture First

tulips and wood pile

Now see these:

• OVERVIEW from Wink
• rooms from electrolite
• success from bighappyfunhouse
• Parle moi! from Elaine

As long as the river flows

And forever and forever,
As long as the river flows,
As long as the heart has passions,
As long as life has woes;

The Bridge by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Foot bridge at Minnehaha Falls; 1912 Graflex 4×5 pinhole.

The Death of Allegory

Here on the table near the window is a vase of peonies
and next to it black binoculars and a money clip,
exactly the kind of thing we now prefer,
objects that sit quietly on a line in lower case,

themselves and nothing more, a wheelbarrow,
an empty mailbox, a razor blade resting in a glass ashtray.

The Death of Allegory by Billy Collins

No doubt you would expect a different wheelbarrow poem …

slow shed

I finally got my 1912 Graflex working, sort of; the shutter blades aren’t lining up on small apertures, so I’ve slapped a cardboard pinhole on in place of the lens for now. With my first few sheets, I greatly overestimated the pinhole’s ability to collect light; by slowing down even more–this shed sat still for me for a minute and a half on a very sunny morning–I managed to coax enough light into the bellows for some hazy images to form.

Not seen in this picture is the lady who walked up to the shed, opened the door, and went inside. She was incredulous when I told her she could walk in front of the camera without risk of appearing on the film, but when I told her that it would be another minute before I closed the shutter she harumphed grumpily and marched across the garden. I was hoping that she’d leave some interesting, blurry trace, but alas, she was moving faster than the slow light I was gathering.

Now see these:

• Morning from Feldauge
• Cross light from milou
• cutting tuna from BOXMAN fotologue

pinhole tulips

This was my contribution to Worldwide Pinhole Photography Day; I used my Brownie Hawkeye, lens popped out and replaced with a tinfoil pinhole. It was a grim, gray, cloudy day, not exactly ideal for pinhole pictures, but I was glad to do my small part for the project.

The Secret River

Water and Stone of ...

By Michael Hartford

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