Interwar Postcard

After the Out Breath, by and © monkeytime.

I posted this before learning that today a Christian, right-wing terrorist murdered Dr. George Tiller inside a Christian church in Wichita, Kansas. Dr. Tiller was truly a hero, having risked his life for years (and nearly lost it in a previous terrorist shooting) to provide abortions to women in an area of the country that has been under enormous pressure from people who want to control women’s bodies and restrict women’s access to reproductive medicine.

I’m leaving this photo up because I like it and there’s not necessarily a direct connection between guns/gun culture and the sort of terrorism practiced by the forced-pregnancy crowd. Indeed, society’s protectors must use most of the same weapons used by its enemies. But Dr. Tiller’s murder can’t go unremarked, nor can the link between significant parts of American gun culture and other elements of right wing culture that are violently reactionary and seriously, dangerously unhinged.

Ave atque vale, Dr. Tiller – Hail and farewell.

Gone Without Corsets & Eyes, by and © monkeytime.

It’s the third anniversary of my Aunt Gail’s death. Even atheist Jews tend to light the memorial candle.

www.flickr.com/photos/brachiator/3101621277/

“Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village.” – Allen Ginsberg, “Kaddish for Naomi Ginsberg”

www.flickr.com/photos/brachiator/2236412356/

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied, by and © monkeytime.

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide

There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,—so with his memory they brim
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, "There is no memory of him here!"
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!

– Edna St. Vincent Millay

The anthropologist and photographer Lye Tuck-Po recently posted an essay discussing why she exhibits so many photos of the children of the Batek people of Malaysia, and so few of Batek adults. It’s a touching exploration of loss, frailty, memory and the problematic nature of photography and publicity in traditional culture: "When They Die Young." Her essay set my mood for processing and captioning this image. I think the poem above gets at some of the emotion involved.

in the rice field, by and © ••fly••.

Today I discovered Simon Kolton’s Flickr stream (screen-name ••fly••), which exhibits many brilliant black-and-white and color images from Southeast Asia. These strike me less as travel photos and more as social documentary with a dramatic and intimate tone.

The image above depicts rice farming in the northern, Isaan region of Thailand. The low perspective and stark, monochrome processing brings out an ominous sky that matches the World to the intensity of the farmer’s expression and labor. Largely due to the farmer’s posture, but also the oppressive mood, this image reminds me of Diego Rivera’s Flower Carrier painting.

There Is No Nighttime, It’s Only A Passing Phase, by and © monkeytime.

A shot from late-afternoon while on the Santa Monica Pier for the photowalk with Miss Aniela and Jeff Greene of Microsoft’s Professional Photo division.

The March Down 4th, by and © dogwelder.

The union makes us strong. United Teachers Los Angeles (UTLA) protest against brutal cuts in the state’s education budget.

THERE IS NO SANCTUARY, by and © Michael Zara.

Oakland, California.