Today is the day of a complete solar eclipse!

The totality of the eclipse will not be visible in New York City, but a bit more than half of the sun will be obscured, so we’ve built some of these of pinhole viewing devices of shoeboxes and will head to Prospect Park to experience the earthly [urban] effects of this cosmic phenomenon.

I’m curious to see the surroundings as well as looking into the pinhole projector; curious about the effect of altered midday light in that brief window of time.

pinhole projector for eclipse drawing by Elizabeth Daggar

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The conversations among windows that happen in the fading light

photo colorization of windows by Elizabeth Daggar
“Rhythms”

I had a little meander through the fourth and third avenue corridors of lower Gowanus last evening as the light struck things at angles. I added some strategic color to these images; some storytelling.

Shooting in color with a phone at that hour is dodgy at best, yet shot in black and white they lose a little something or maybe just feel so different to how it looked in person. These contrivances, then, to inject some of what was lost (or was never there).

photo colorization of windows by Elizabeth Daggar
“Communications”
photo colorization of windows by Elizabeth Daggar
“A nostalgic accord”
photo colorizations of windows in Gowanus by Elizabeth Daggar
“Morse Code”

Cowardly acts of fragile men

Human history is riddled with cursed repetitions, but goddamnit the unabashed presence of nazi white-supremacists who claim also to be patriotic Americans is as anathema as it is indefensible. It’s been less than 60 years since the Civil Rights movement; less than 80 since WWII— the atrocities of which are tattooed on the flesh, stitched into the fabric of collective memory; survivors of which are still alive to witness this terror, this evil, these cowardly acts of fragile men.

These are not acts of free speech; this is the fomentation of deadly hatred.

Scenes from a nearby barrier island


Here are some photographs from my brief but lovely stay in Cherry Grove, Fire Island last week. A soothing balm, and the friends I stayed with had a little oasis of a cottage on the bayside. It was so serene and lovely that I didn’t even go off on a wander to photograph more of the town this time— and that’s rare for me.

More photos after the jump.

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Suggestions of a fine summer day

Here’s a scene from the deck of our little house in Cherry Grove. I had it in mind that I’d start with some color then go in and add structure with pen, but I quite liked how serene and unfettered this looked so decided to leave it as mere suggestions of the pool and flower pots.

The bird in my kitchen, and other prophecies

This morning I woke to find a black bird walking around in my kitchen. When I walked in, she startled and flew smack into the window a couple of times. I opened a screen for her, but she flew into the living room and affixed herself to a screen before I got another one open to allow her out and free.

As the contractor sealed up the roof yesterday, I wondered how a building can be watertight but not bird-tight.

Her nest, it turned out, had been in the space between the ceiling and the roof, just next to where the collapse occurred, and there was found a small opening beside a drainpipe on the exterior wall. That, too, has now been sealed, and I feel bad that she’ll have to find a new home.

I remember not long ago having a dream in which I found a crow walking around in my kitchen. I think he spoke to me but I must not have written it down, as I’ve found nothing of the sort in my archives. Anyway, the bird this morning reminded me of that, and my search in the archives brought me back to the dream of the crumbling apartment, and the hidden room! (But in this case, a bird’s room.)

I suppose, if I’m going to have the occasional vaguely-prescient dream, I’d do well to start having altogether more delightful dreams.

Life in the city is a nonstop #adventure!

You guys, let me tell you that life in the Big City is just one crazy adventure after another, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Why, this very afternoon, some crazy, impromptu shit went down! Or rather, came down, I should say.

I was weekend-chillin’ in my apartment when I heard an alarming sound from the kitchen, followed by a second, even more elaborate sound. And like a fine wine, that second sound had a long finish—of pebbles bouncing on the floor, a trailing off kind of sound.

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