Another of those things I see in the world around me that nobody else seems to notice…

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I was at work one day, not too long ago, and I looked down at the flagstones, and spotted this Aztec chief in a big, gold, jewel-encrusted crown… or war helmet… or whatever.

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He is right there, in plain sight. All you have to do is look.

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I have done quite a few of these posts. I did a whole series of things I saw in my fence. In the flagstones at work, there is also a guy in a serape doing something unspeakable to a llama, but I am not going to share that one.

I could have done a better job on his war helmet-crown, but I have other things to do.

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How I ended up with this haircut; a story that highlights the creative and unusual ways that I make my own life difficult, with the help of the crack squirrels that live in my head…

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Okay, so I have a place where I go to get my haircut. Haircuts have not been, historically, something that I worry about. In the first place, I was a Bay Area hippy when I was young. I had hair down to my butt. Also, I don’t really worry that much about how I look. But now I have that annoying job as a private security officer, I have been forced to take grooming more seriously.

So, I have a place. I had another place. It was full of attractive young Asian ladies who gave the haircuts. Mostly, it was close to my house. But, it turns out, speaking English for both parties involved in the hair cutting process is actually pretty important. Let me rephrase that. It doesn’t matter what languages the two people involved speak, as long as they have at least one language in common.

So I found my new place. But something happened to it. Either the corner of the front wall was undercut by the heavy rains, or maybe a car tried to invent the drive-through haircut. But it has been closed. So, as a blast from my own past, I tried a Supercuts like I went to back in the day. This is where I learned that, even if the two people involved in a haircut do speak the same language, they actually have to be able to communicate effectually.

So, long story still long, I used my own trimmer to tidy up a little. Guys, you know how when you are shaving your face, and trying to get your facial hair choice even, and you go too far on one side, then you go too far on the other when you try to even it out, and you end up with no facial hair? Well, I did that on my own head.

It started off fine. But then I tried to run the trimmer with the length-guard straight back the top of my head, and all of a sudden, the length guard decided to guard for a different length… a much shorter length. I had, in essence, a reverse Mohawk. One stripe of really short hair down the middle of my head. Oh, I manfully tried to fix it. I ended up with what can only be described as a patchy mess on my head. I looked like a had the mange. Like a dog that had lost a fight to a weasel. Like semi-decomposed roadkill.

So I had to go to a barber to try to salvage what was left… and that is what is left.

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Colors; in which I intersperse photos from two different ongoing series of posts, and offer no explanations whatsoever, thereby interrupting the flow of this post with annoying words, but which you will already know all about… if you are following along, that is…

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A love bench and a double rainbow…

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So I am cleaning some photos off my cell phone. My wife just had a birthday, and I made her a little love bench. But it is also a photo stand, because I carved a slot in the seat of the bench. The flowers are carefully crafted so that they still look like flowers even if the top part of the bench is covered by a photo, and I doubled up on the initials of us and the kids.

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This little bench is sort of a matching gift with the tiki I made her for Christmas…

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Yes, that one.

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Don’t worry, we got her other stuff too.

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But hand-made gifts are always nice, right? I just need to varnish it now.

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On the way to work the other day, I took some pictures of a rainbow. I didn’t know, until I just looked at it more closely, that there was another rainbow, over to the right.

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These aren’t the best double rainbow photos, but still…

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Pretty cool, right?

 

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In which my pussycat is sort of a dickcat…

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I do apologize for that title, but hey, the cat stole not only Koa’s bed, but his ball too. Then she swiped at the dog whenever he got close. Koa was very upset…

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SQUIRREL!!!

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The cat was like; ‘hey, the bed is comfy, and it’s in the sun… I don’t even need the ball.’

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Koa got the ball back… eventually. But not the bed.

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In which my cat expresses her viewpoints on modern society… a series of pictures telling a story…

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I caught my cat watching the TV yesterday. She looked quite concerned about the underpinnings of our economy, the wage gap, and the threat to middle-income families.

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She did seem to be slightly hopeful that our home state was at least working on the problems of infrastructure and job growth.

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She is obviously a supporter of fair wages.

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But shed is a bigger supporter of breakfast food, it turns out.

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Any breakfast food…

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Especially pancakes…

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Particularly if they come with a free beverage, and as long as the servers and cooks are paid a fair living wage.

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Uh… no, sorry, cat, that isn’t the number we call for pancakes.

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Then she totally freaked out when the picture went away for a brief moment. I assume she thought that the cameraman wasn’t getting paid enough.

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Then the political news came on…

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And she was like; ‘seriously???’…

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‘I am so outta here’…

 

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Light and darkness, stillness and movement… experiments with photography… part 1…

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I suppose that this post isn’t really ‘part 1’. It is a continuation of posts I have been doing involving experiments with low-light photography, light, reflection and refraction… I am pretty sure those two are not the same thing, but I don’t know exactly what the difference is…

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I took a lot of photos in a dark kitchen, involving various objects that have various properties that react with a light source.

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Sometimes, the object was moving, sometimes, I was wiggling the camera.

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I just don’t feel like explaining the whole process over again every time I post a few more of the photos.

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You can go back and look at the older posts if you are interested.

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Oh, and I am also throwing in a few shots I took with the digital microscope that my daughter got me for Christmas.

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Because they are really just close-ups of one of the objects in question.

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I guess there is one other thing to mention.

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I am saving some of the best of these images.

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And when I am done posting the rest of them…

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I will probably use some digital magic to enhance the ones I save, and then post those new images.

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I like to think of that as ‘light recycling’.

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Fun with the sun… (or); Instead of just showing you the rest of those photos of the sunset over the San Francisco Bay that I took when I went with my mom into the hills above Berkeley during Christmas vacation, what if I intersperse them with copies upon which I worked some digital magic… part 3…

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Did it take you a moment, if you didn’t read the title of the post, to even notice that there was something weird about that photo of San Francisco?

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Because the original photo looked like that.

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I love that just a few clicks… some copying, pasting, and flipping parts of an image… or, as I call it; ‘mirror imaging’, can make that up there…

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Out of that, which was already a pretty nice photo, if I do say so myself.

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Just to mix it up, I did a ‘liquefy’ effect on a picture of the sky.

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Man, I love Photoshop.

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Whoops. On that one, I forgot to save it as a duplicate copy first, so I lost the original when I saved the mirror image changes. But you get the idea.

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I did a double mirror image on that one, to make the dark trees and mountain frame the sky.

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It is easy to get carried away with the number of mirror images.

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I could have done another up and down one on that photo… and ended up with four suns…

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But I restrained myself.

 

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Some pretty colors, just to flush the memory of those microscopic photos of my body from your mind…

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While I had my digital microscope hooked up, and when I was done giving myself that disturbing medical examination, I decided to do something for you to take the taste of my moles out of your mouths. If you don’t know what that means, you haven’t been following along.

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I used the microscope to take some close up pictures of those light disks that make holograms out of light when you spin them and point a light at them… seriously, try to keep up… things move pretty fast around here. At the speed of light, even. HA!

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Or at least at the speed of a squirrel on crack, like the ones living in my cranium.

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I was just moving the microscope around over the disks, playing with the focus and the brightness of the built-in light.

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See, that is a good image of the built-in light being reflected.

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What I learned from this experimentation is that the angle I held the microscope made all the difference.

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I also learned that the disk with the paperclips on it… oh, come on, go back and read these from the beginning, we will wait for you… really is too scratched to work well anymore.

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But it is still interesting close up.

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Okay, I have a few more of these, and some of the… uh… other experiments with light that I was doing, before I got sidetracked with this… and then, maybe we can try doing some interesting digital and Photoshop magic to some of these images and see what happens?

 

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Holy f*****g s***t, do not ever use a microscope to look at yourself too closely!!!

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Oh, don’t panic. That isn’t even the gross part. That is just my puckered lips. This, despite the title of this particular post, is still a family-friendly blog.

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But if you ever do get one of those digital microscopes that you can hook up to your laptop, like I did for Christmas this year, for all you hold sacred, resist the temptation to use it on yourself. Oh, like all my ideas, it started off well enough. I thought my fingerprints would be cool to look at up close.

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I mean, the little drops of oil oozing out is sort of interesting. That is how they catch criminals through the use of fingerprinting technology, after all.

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I got a good shot of one of the tiny diamonds in my wedding ring. Now, if I had just fought the urge, once I had the thing all hooked up, to start looking for other interesting things.

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I moved the small scope up to my face. I didn’t work today, so I didn’t shave.

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Hey, what about my mustache? Well, now I wish I had one of these when I was a lot younger than 58.

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So, I guess if you mix black, brown, white and silver, you get grey???

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So far, so good… but the microscope was still roving… and the crack squirrels that live in my head were becoming interested in this project. They started to whisper suggestions. I ignored them… at first…

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Why are my eyebrows less grey than my mustache??? And what are those little flakes??? Do I have eyebrow dandruff???

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Now, I know the hair on the top of my head is very grey… white, some might almost say…

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But I was having fun, moving the little scope around while I adjusted the focus knob and the light knob with one hand, while clicking on the ‘take a photo’ button with the other.

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It was a juggling act, but I felt like a scientist. I was discovering a new world, and that world was the outside of myself.

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‘What about that US Navy anchor tattoo you have on your forearm from when you were 17, and served your country’ I heard the little squirrel voices whisper.

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Just old, faded ink under old, faded skin. ‘Oooooh, as long as we are looking at hair, let’s see how much hair is growing out of your ears now’ came the crack-fueled voice.

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Okay, that is a little mean-spirited, but… whoa… wait…

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Good thing the scope is too big to actually fit inside my ear canal. But then, another varmint-voice pointed out that way back in the first posts I did, while I was still in the Bay Area at my mom’s house at Christmas, playing with my new toy, I had jokingly threatened to post photos of moles and other bodily growths, in a game I was going to call: Does this look malignant to you?

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Even as I was thinking up a reply to put the squirrels in their place, I could feel my hand sliding the scope towards a very small mole that didn’t look too scary.

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I think, medically speaking, that one is called a ‘blood blister’, and not a mole.

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And then I got a hold of myself and made myself stop, before I ended up posting something that all of us would end up regretting. The bad ones, well, that is what dermatologists are for, right?

 

 

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