ottok

Moved

2008-11-28T17:55:51Z

I have moved my photoblog to a new host. If you were accessing my site with www.ottokphotography.com, then you should see no change. If you were accessing my site with lenscape.my-expressions.com, then please update your URL to www.ottokphotography.com. This site will remain up as an archival site for my work. Thanks.

Mill time 3

2008-11-26T05:01:28Z

Another of the old mill. Camera: Zero Image Zone Plate using Fuji PRO160S News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap Poem of the day: "THIN sheets of blue smoke among white slabs … near the shingle mill … winter morning. Falling of a dry leaf might be heard … circular steel tears through a log. Slope of woodland … brown … soft … tinge of blue such as pansy eyes. Farther, field fires … funnel of yellow smoke … spellings of other yellow in corn stubble. Bobsled on a down-hill road … February snow mud … horses steaming … Oscar the driver sings ragtime under a spot of red seen a mile … the red wool yarn of Oscar’s stocking cap is seen from the shingle mill to the ridge of hemlock and cedar." - Carl Sandburg, "Hemlock and Cedar" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#99a379';}

Checkerboard

2008-11-25T05:01:25Z

Another from one of the old cabins. I know -- posting two days in a row! Camera: Hasselblad 501CM with Fuji Acros 100 B&W film News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: 'I Ain't Done With You' by Eric Himan Poem of the day: 'THE solemn light behind the barns, The rising moon, the cricket's call, The August night, and you and I— What is the meaning of it all! Has it a meaning, after all? Or is it one of Nature's lies, That net of beauty that she casts Over Life's unsuspecting eyes? That web of beauty that she weaves For one strange purpose of her own,— For this the painted butterfly, For this the rose—for this alone! Strange repetition of the rose, And strange reiterated call Of bird and insect, man and maid,— Is that the meaning of it all? If it means nothing after all! And nothing lives except to die— It is enough—that solemn light Behind the barns, and you and I.' - Louis Untermeyer, 'August Moonlight' if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#686868';}

Mill time 2

2008-11-24T05:01:11Z

Another of the old mill. Camera: Hasselblad 501CM with Fuji Acros 100 B&W film News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: "Rooks" by Shearwater Poem of the day: "OVER the borders, a sin without pardon, Breaking the branches and crawling below, Out through the breach in the wall of the garden, Down by the banks of the river, we go. Here is the mill with the humming of thunder, Here is the weir with the wonder of foam, Here is the sluice with the race running under— Marvellous places, though handy to home! Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller, Stiller the note of the birds on the hill; Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller, Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill. Years may go by, and the wheel in the river Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day, Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever Long after all of the boys are away. Home from the Indies and home from the ocean, Heroes and soldiers we all shall come home; Still we shall find the old mill wheel in motion, Turning and churning that river to foam. You with the bean that I gave when we quarrelled, I with your marble of Saturday last, Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled, Here we shall meet and remember the past." - Robert Louis Stevenson, "Keepsake Mill" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#999999';}

Mill time 1

2008-11-21T05:01:09Z

At Hurricane Shoals is an old mill. Camera: Zero Image Zone Plate using Fuji PRO160S News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: "Von" by Sigur Ros Poem of the day: "THE MILL goes toiling slowly around With steady and solemn creak, And my little one hears in the kindly sound The voice of the old mill speak. While round and round those big white wings Grimly and ghostlike creep, My little one hears that the old mill sings “Sleep, little tulip, sleep!” The sails are reefed and the nets are drawn, And, over his pot of beer, The fisher, against the morrow’s dawn, Lustily maketh cheer. He mocks at the winds that caper along From the far-off clamorous deep,— But we—we love their lullaby song Of “Sleep, little tulip, sleep!” Old dog Fritz in slumber sound Groans of the stony mart: To-morrow how proudly he ’ll trot you round, Hitched to our new milk-cart! And you shall help me blanket the kine And fold the gentle sheep, And set the herring a-soak in brine,— But now, little tulip, sleep! A Dream-One comes to button the eyes That wearily droop and blink, While the old mill buffets the frowning skies And scolds at the stars that wink; Over your face the misty wings Of that beautiful Dream-One sweep, And rocking your cradle she softly sings “Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”" - Eugene Field, "Nightfall in Dordrecht" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#909a7d';}

Nap time

2008-11-18T23:29:36Z

Found in one of the old cabins at Hurricane Shoals. Camera: Hasselblad 501CM with Fuji Acros 100 B&W film News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: "This is What" by Horse Feathers -- I love this band. Poem of the day: "TWENTY years hence my eyes may grow, If not quite dim, yet rather so; Yet yours from others they shall know, Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence, though it may hap That I be call’d to take a nap In a cool cell where thunder-clap Was never heard, There breathe but o’er my arch of grass A not too sadly sigh’d ‘Alas!’ And I shall catch, ere you can pass, That wingèd word." - Walter Savage Landor, "Twenty Years Hence" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#bdbdbd';}

Hands across

2008-11-17T05:01:11Z

Another shot from the old cabin. Camera: Zero Image Zone Plate using Fuji PRO160S News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: "Flume" by Bon Iver Poem of the day: "OBSERVE the clasped hands! Are they hands of farewell or greeting, Hands that I helped or hands that helped me? Would it not be well to carve a hand With an inverted thumb, like Elagabalus? And yonder is a broken chain, The weakest-link idea perhaps— But what was it? And lambs, some lying down, Others standing, as if listening to the shepherd— Others bearing a cross, one foot lifted up— Why not chisel a few shambles? And fallen columns! Carve the pedestal, please, Or the foundations; let us see the cause of the fall. And compasses and mathematical instruments, In irony of the under tenants’ ignorance Of determinants and the calculus of variations. And anchors, for those who never sailed. And gates ajar—yes, so they were; You left them open and stray goats entered your garden. And an eye watching like one of the Arimaspi— So did you—with one eye. And angels blowing trumpets—you are heralded— It is your horn and your angel and your family’s estimate. It is all very well, but for myself I know I stirred certain vibrations in Spoon River Which are my true epitaph, more lasting than stone." - Edgar Lee Masters, "Percival Sharp" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#918285';}

The history of a chair 2

2008-11-14T05:02:57Z

Another chair from the old cabin. Camera: Zero Image Zone Plate using Fuji PRO160S News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: "Home This Year" by Virginia Coalition Poem of the day: "JENNY kiss'd me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in! Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have miss'd me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kiss'd me." - Leigh Hunt, "Jenny kiss'd Me" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#8a8375';}

The history of a chair 1

2008-11-12T05:01:22Z

A chair in an old cabin at Hurricane Shoals in Georgia. I am going to try to post a little more often...just not sure how frequent. Camera: Hasselblad 501CM with Fuji Acros 100 B&W film News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: 'Four in the Morning' by Ivy Poem of the day: "ONCE there was a cabin here, and once there was a man; And something happened here before my memory began. Time has made the two of them the fuel of one flame And all we have of them is now a legend and a name. All I have to say is what an old man said to me, And that would seem to be as much as there will ever be. “Fifty years ago it was we found it where it sat.”— And forty years ago it was old Archibald said that. “An apple tree that’s yet alive saw something, I suppose, Of what it was that happened there, and what no mortal knows. Some one on the mountain heard far off a master shriek, And then there was a light that showed the way for men to seek. “We found it in the morning with an iron bar behind, And there were chains around it; but no search could ever find, Either in the ashes that were left, or anywhere, A sign to tell of who or what had been with Stafford there. “Stafford was a likely man with ideas of his own— Though I could never like the kind that likes to live alone; And when you met, you found his eyes were always on your shoes, As if they did the talking when he asked you for the news. “That’s all, my son. Were I to talk for half a hundred years I’d never clear away from there the cloud that never clears. We buried what was left of it,—the bar, too, and the chains; And only for the apple tree there’s nothing that remains.” Forty years ago it was I heard the old man say, “That’s all, my son.”—And here again I find the place to-day, Deserted and told only by the tree that knows the most, And overgrown with golden-rod as if there were no ghost." - Edwin Arlington Robinson, "Stafford's Cabin" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#79726a';}

Voting booth

2008-11-09T22:48:58Z

A while back I went to Hurricane Shoals park in Georgia, again at the beginning of the medical issues. In part of the park, they've relocated several buildings from the 1800s to preserve them. This was the voting booth in what used to be a courthouse (I believe). These booths were used by the area up until not that long ago. Had I been more on my game, then I would have posted this a week ago. This also introduces a new camera, a Zero Image Zone Plate camera. Camera: Zero Image Zone Plate using Fuji PRO160S News: I have 14 images in the group show, Neo-Nostalgia, up from Sept. 22 - Dec. 31, 2008 at City Issue in Atlanta, GA. View front of show card. Song of the day: "Sing Me To Sleep" by Steve Tannen Poem of the day: "I HAVE two monuments besides this granite obelisk: One, the house I built on the hill, With its spires, bay windows, and roof of slate; The other, the lake-front in Chicago, Where the railroad keeps a switching yard, With whistling engines and crunching wheels, And smoke and soot thrown over the city, And the crash of cars along the boulevard,— A blot like a hog-pen on the harbor Of a great metropolis, foul as a sty. I helped to give this heritage To generations yet unborn, with my vote In the House of Representatives, And the lure of the thing was to be at rest From the never-ending fright of need, And to give my daughters gentle breeding, And a sense of security in life. But, you see, though I had the mansion house And traveling passes and local distinction, I could hear the whispers, whispers, whispers, Wherever I went, and my daughters grew up With a look as if someone were about to strike them; And they married madly, helter-skelter, Just to get out and have a change. And what was the whole of the business worth? Why, it wasn’t worth a damn!" - Edgar Lee Masters, "Lambert Hutchins" if(changeBackground==1){document.bgColor='#5b5966';}