A Poet's Notebook
In the dim glow of a fading afternoon, a window stands defiantly, blinds half-lifted, like the weary eyes of an old chef who’s seen it all. It bears a bold proclamation, “HELP WANTED” screaming in red and white – a call to arms for those brave enough to answer. Beneath, the details: “Linecook/ Dishwasher (Cocinero/…
The image captures a close-up of a man’s face, focusing primarily on his left eye which is accentuated by a pair of black-framed glasses. He wears a gray cap and has earphones plugged in. The man’s skin is lightly freckled, and there’s a hint of a smile or smirk playing on his lips. However, the…
I’m shooting more photos showing nature and civilization jammed against each other. Find my photographs on Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/tomchat/
Yesterday I spotted this little ginkgo tree turning yellow — pretty early in the season. December is our autumn here in Southern California, the time when the leaves turn. It’s rare to see any color at all in September.
a few snapshots around town
Halloween candy galore!
It’s not every day I’m greeted by a stuffed elephant.
My new pork pie hat.
Birthday Promises: a Store Run and Dinner
I found Leonardo da Vinci‘s original painting of “The Last Supper” on the Pomona College freedom wall.
My flagship typewriter: a Woodstock No. 5 from 1916. This WWI-era machine still works perfectly over a hundred years later. Amazing! A photo of this typewriter was published in a book called SHIFT HAPPENS, which can be ordered through this website — https://shifthappens.site The above photo is what will appear in the book.
Looks like some kind of stained glass display in this front yard.
These photographs showcase a classic Buick Riviera parked against a picturesque backdrop. The car, exuding vintage charm with its sleek body, gleaming paint, and distinctive rims, is from the mid-1960s, probably 1965. In the background, there’s a stately building with white pillars and large windows, framed by well-manicured lawns and towering trees. The scene evokes…
Well tie me to a cactus and call me Prickly Pete, it seems this Nick McDonell fella has ruffled some feathers with his new book that’s part memoir and part critique of the hoity-toity upper crust. Now I ain’t one to judge a book by its cover or a bloke by his bank account, but…