Sunday, July 16, 2006


Ah, the melancholy sight of an empty urban storefront with windows soaped from the inside . . . I wonder when such a practice stopped being customary, when awareness developed that soaped windows imply a dismal forecast for the building's usage.


I think that blurring the business telephone number on this photo would be about as insincere as Marilyn McCoo's dastardly Solid Gold habit of changing the pronouns in songs whose lyrics didn't quite suit her gender or orientation.

Last Clematis

Eggplant Blossom

Basement Door

American Darling Valve