Chikan Socialy Accepted

Photo of a blog in a blog about photography

I like portraits. The pictures are pictures which is good. A-ha! Wrong. Or rather, not only that. The portraits can be photos where our friends tell us "but you're beautiful / to! You do not seem either! "(and then that picture is? Who is that picture?) but can open worlds far more fascinating when they tell something about the person. In the picture, I can tell parts of me that nobody knows, I can tell in the picture, parts of me that do not exist. I do not photograph the subject of the portraits. In short, the picture is crazy adventure and I assure you, a portrait photographer discovers things that not even a psychologist well-established ...

And I? I can photograph a blog? Sure, there's a person behind a blog, there are two hands that pigiano fast on the keys. Here's my photo.

1 - The worst photos I made in my life, I probably her. March 25, 1990, Paris. In a class field trip stops at a brasserie opposite the Gare de Lyon to breakfast at 7.30 am after an almost sleepless night train.

point and click.

Son returned to the brasserie in January 2010. I tried the same table that was free. It was a ritual, nothing of that. But I did not photograph.

2 - Soul label. A girl (bio) different. Stubborn, vegetarian, one of those who gets up at 4 am to see the same things that the cold Quark offers you when you're on the couch. So Hats off.

3 - A gift. The daughter of a watchmaker gives you a clock. Easy. But the ticket? I open it and stands out in capital letters "ALARM !!!". Go 'which is rare to find someone who curries to duty, at this time. And even in those days there.

4 - and always strange reasons, I join in the hedgehog. I speak little, say less. The best thing is that now no longer the case.

5 - One of the most beautiful gifts. It 's still there. It always has been. He saw four houses, two moves and a lot of eyes and asked "Who's this?". For 13 years the answer has always been, "friend."

6 - This is just a pretty picture, because you said that we were classmates. But what matters most is what is written below in transparency.

Would Hiatus Hernia Cause Mucus

A lizard with a big heart

The return from vacation is always a bit 'tiring, at least from an organizational perspective, empty suitcases, discovering that a good 30% of what had taken to be essential, in the end folded on the bottom left, open the bag of clothes bravely wash, preferably fitted with nose clip and place as quickly as possible in a machine, before they develop their powerful poison gas, look around, get some fresh air on the balcony and whispered timidly, "I'm back here, I am dinuovo home." So, gradually, start with the usual routine of looking for maybe some new virtual manages to intrigue the 'eye and' intellect. Found! Finally after a long speech, it was decided: he has developed an original nickname, thought of a title d 'effect and, as usually happens to new bloggers started to write "a free fingers, a" post per day, with the 'enthusiasm of those who want to "connect" with the world. I know, I understand, it happened to me now two or three years ago ... always smile thinking back to 'the beginning of my adventure and I would pass on the' enthusiasm of that time to him, encouraging 's business. I do not think I need advice on how to protect themselves from unpleasant comments, constructive and very welcome, often left in the 'anonymous: sooner or later a bit' you there 's a bit habit' you learn to ignore them, in the end there writes only to be "commented" or to attract the 'attention, why do not you write if they can do without, because the brain, although not always in tune with his hand, sends a nerve impulse to the fingers begin to scroll quickly on the keyboard to the sound principle of "Today I have something to say, maybe someone will affect ...". All the rest will follow: the post for four hands, the exchange of comments and everything that makes a blog "Special" just for the fact that it is unique, original, unique.

So Ladies and Gentlemen ... and here's to you ....( drum roll) ... http://lucesospesa.blogspot.com/ by Heart lizard. I follow him.

Rent House In Hamptons For Prom Weekend

The unpaired sock

Neither home nor desperate I would say, rather, the desperate housewives: I listlessly juggles between 'pierced-palette "and" pre-packaged dinners, philosophizing about the iron face bravely the folds of a shirt more or less how one should deal with, prenden doli peak, or on the lapels of life because, eventually, to spread the socks are always strictly odd and feet, until proven otherwise, that is. Looking around, with a clothespin between his teeth and a "survivor" dark blue in her hands, I counted and recounted, all proud and well aligned even hanging by a thread and hanging in the air, from right to left or left to right , also 12, no ambush bowl, so no more sheltered in the washing machine, like the 12 apostles, the sons of Aeolus, ready to dry their tears with a puff to remove traces of detergent and stinking sins. And you? Who are you that I still seem to shake, cold shower for rinsing, my hands chapped? You who you are a follower, put blue socks? Where is your soul mate? And here in a sunny August morning came, the result of a very twisted mind, the theory of "odd sock." Some people not to take risks and facilitate the 'coupling, the couple together in a tight knot that, once the wash cycle, it is really a' company resolved: the socks are bound 'to a' no other possibility entertainment, a centrifuge head spin or make a pre effervescent, nothing routine, blue with blue, black to black. Who even has the time and the patience to customize it with a dot of colored thread in the hope that a 'wave "overwhelming" is not able to shell out that sign of recognition. There are also those who, a bit 'like me, rely on characteristics of "genetic" the weft yarn, or its thickness, strength ol 'height of' elastic, any trademarks worn but still legible. When all attempts to reveal compartments reunification, nothing else to do than to classify the poor victim as "abandoned" and sadly put it in that 'special little purse card that hosts the heroic socks "single." They are clean, fragrant, beautiful 'look and we look forward to the return or the partner or to find someone' who do not mind you too much of their length or their integrity, to 'exact match, do not feel at all "waste" of a company so well aligned along the threads of linen but free souls that once in a washing machine, were assigned to the eddies of what, to 'appearance, looked like just a carousel ride. Every now and then peep and count them, and increase it, to be honest, I worry a bit '. Possible that the 'effect of' softening unable to moderate the claims and to make the meetings more simple? Possible to find that after being lost for so long we should stay in a dark paper bag?

The long search for the least demanding to below the knee, the 'insecure by the' robust and resilient than crumple at the first meeting, the stickler of the same color point, the athlete only sponge, masochistic melancholy better laundry ...

Moral of the story-theory: unfortunately the bag is full even if a couple is walking better.