/* FW100R3 */
/* (c)2010 SugarHill Works LLC - http://www.sugarhillworks.com */
var i, slideshow = [], ssn, player;
// NOTE: THE PREFERRED WAY OF EDITING A GALLERY IS BY USING THE SUGARHILL WORKS PORTFOLIO UPDATER
//
// IF YOU DON'T HAVE THE PORTFOLIO UPDATER MODULE, CONTACT US AT sweet@sugarhillworks.com FOR MORE INFO
//
// For each of the slideshow items,
// follow the pattern of the following lines:
//
// //
// //slideshow[slideshow.length] = { <--this line is the same for each item
// order: "1", // only used by the Portfolio Updater - the images will appear in the order listed below regardless of this value...
// video: "vid01.flv", //filename - leave blank [""] if this item is not a video
// v_type: "video", // 'video' or 'youtube'
// v_title: "", // this gets mapped to video player
// image: "img01.jpg", //filename (image is used as the preview image if video is set
// thumb: "", //filename, or leave blank if the thumb file has the same name as the image file (default)
// title: "title 1", // title text for this image - if video, this is the text that overlays just like for the images - also mapped to jwplayer video description
// caption1: "caption 1"// caption text for this image - video, this is the video author - mapped to jwplayer
// caption1: "caption 2"// additional caption text for this image
// //}; <--this line is the same for each item
// //
//
// The images will appear in the slideshows in the order listed (regardless of filename, and order:value).
//
// NOTE: ALWAYS USE DOUBLE-QUOTES TO SURROUND EACH VALUE! (Use HTML character codes such as " to make quotes in titles, captions, etc.
//
// ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
//--BEG_PHP_INSERT---------------------- BEGIN PORTFOLIO GALLERY ITEMS -------------------------------------
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "10",
image: "LongYear01.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear01.jpg",
title: "By the Pricking of my Thumbs",
caption1: "Once again, I've decided to embark on a very long year, measuring its slow progress with a new photo every day.
The last time I did this, I did it for me. I wanted to test my photography and my flexibility and see what I was really capable of. I learned some things.
A lot of things have changed since then. This time, I am doing this for you, and all the people like you. I'm doing this because I have so many things I want to show you and we have so many things to talk about. Are you game? Spread the word and pull up a seat.
It is the Ides of March and something wicked this way comes.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "20",
image: "LongYear02.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear02.jpg",
title: "Hiya",
caption1: "Nothing says welcome quite like creepy paper puppets, right? Especially when they have wide, staring eyes that can see right through your soul.
In case I wasn't clear enough yesterday: I will be taking a new photo every day until this time next March. Be sure to keep coming back, kids.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "30",
image: "LongYear03.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear03.jpg",
title: "The Weathered Wheel",
caption1: "The rose window of an abandoned church in Brooklyn. I think if it was in good condition, it would actually be quite pedestrian. It is all that ruin that makes it beautiful.
Incidentally, most people refer to windows of this type as a rose or wheel window, but they are also called Catherine windows after Saint Catherine of Alexandria, who was meant to be put to death on a spiked wheel. When she touched the wheel, it shattered and they beheaded her instead. Not much of a reward for being saintly, but I guess you take what you can get.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "40",
image: "LongYear04.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear04.jpg",
title: "A Long Way from Hawaii",
caption1: "The sad plywood palm tree and eye straining orange facade of Lee's Hawaiian Islander conceals a dark and seedy tiki bar interior. I have fond childhood memories of Leeís, particularly the waterfall wall with the Polynesian masks, but now it has fallen into disrepair in that unique tiki way.
In fact, it seems to be a requirement for a good tiki bar or restaurant to be run down (and also to have karaoke. And hollow eyed, surly waiters in Hawaiian shirts). Perhaps that's why the drinks are so strong and delicious - the more you drink, the less you notice the duct tape holding together the booth upholstery.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "50",
image: "LongYear05.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear05.jpg",
title: "A Leafy Gyre",
caption1: "Neither insect carapace nor sea shell, this spiral is formed by the withered contraction of a poinsettia leaf that, thanks to some extreme foresight, I've been saving since Christmas time.
More than anything else, this should tell you that, given a good enough reason, I'll save just about anything. For years, if necessary. My house is going to be amazing by the time I am old and feeble.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "60",
image: "LongYear06.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear06.jpg",
title: "Putting the BR in Fabric",
caption1: "It is kind of amazing and wonderful that the Paramus Fabric Center hasn't been devoured by the horrific sprawl of malls and superstores that characterize Route 17. I've no need for fabric, of course, but I do love how it is covered with shabby neon signs of all shapes and sizes.
Of course, they likely don't light up and more and if one were to fall on you, well, it wouldn't be pretty, but such things don't matter when you're looking for a dose of weathered nostalgia.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "70",
image: "LongYear07.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear07.jpg",
title: "Floodland",
caption1: "Flooding has always been a problem in my basement, especially in the rainy spring. The monstrous storm from last week was no exception - I went down the cellar looking for tin snips and instead found water bubbling up from a hairline crack in the concrete. Much frantic moving of old crap ensued.
I am just now getting to pumping it out (which says something about how little time I have nowadays) and instead of just getting it done, I have to stop and take a photograph of the bare bulb reflecting in the still, brackish water. Seriously, I'll do just about anything to avoid real work.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "80",
image: "LongYear08.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear08.jpg",
title: "Butterflies and Water Stains",
caption1: "When my grandparents moved up north to the family homestead in Kearny seven years ago, their stuff wound up in a variety of places while they moved in. Inexplicably, the old wooden ironing board wound up at my father's machine shop, where it remained til I hauled it home after he passed away last year.
Around that time, I really enjoyed the worn fabric and those 1950's style butterflies but for a variety of reasons, I never got around to shooting it. No time like the drizzly present.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "90",
image: "LongYear09.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear09.jpg",
title: "Stirring Dull Roots with Spring Rain",
caption1: "Spring disturbs me.
While everyone else is excited about the return of the warm weather and longer days, I can't help but be uneasy about the heavy grey skies, the oppressive rainstorms and the air that grows thick with mold and humidity and pollen.
The dirt is the worst. Ripe with generation fueled by a winter of death and decay, alien structures push themselves out of the darkness of the damp soil. Really, it's only a peony bud, but in the back of my mind, it always seems like something more sinister.
I know, you think I'm weird, but I bet you wont look at all those flowers coming up this spring the same way you used to...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "100",
image: "LongYear10.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear10.jpg",
title: "Hell's Kitchen Gargoyle",
caption1: "Everywhere I go, there's always someone, somewhere, making a funny face at me...
Just for the record, this isn't technically a gargoyle, as it is not masking a water spout. It is actually an ornamental keystone that, judging by the face's leafy features, is meant to portray the Green Man, a pre-Roman fertility symbol.
Look at that. Not only does the Long Year wow you every day with pretty photographs, but it educates you on obscure topics you probably didn't care about to begin with. It's like Sesame Street for weirdos. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "110",
image: "LongYear11.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear11.jpg",
title: "They don't Make 'em Like this Anymore",
caption1: "I've been driving past the Golomb Service Station in North Arlington every day, waiting for the day a car wasn't parked directly in front of it. Today was that day.
As you can see, it is a positively ancient gas station. unfortunately, the equally ancient gas pumps are long gone, but it still has that certain something to make me want to pull over the car.
Of course, just because the car wasn't there didn't mean the people who work there weren't. As I got out of my car, two old, slightly crazy seeming old fellows eyed me up and I decided I should ask their permission to take some photos. The one with the milky eye and not so many teeth (who I would love to shoot a portrait of later) insisted that I could only take a photo of the place if I would send him a copy of the magazine he assumed I worked for. Once he realized I wasn't one a shooter for one of those fancy glossies, he offered to let me take the photo for two bits.
About that time, a fellow named Phil from the Knight's of Columbus across the street came by and convinced the other guys to let me shoot what I wanted in exchange for prints and a photo of the three of them. This he achieved because, he explained, they were all knights together. Inexplicably, when I took the photo of the three of them, Milky Eye exclaimed, 'We haven't dropped our drawers and none of us are wearing high heels!' I'm not sure anyone understood what he was talking about, but he seemed to be amused regardless. Afterwards, the extremely friendly Phil said I could come by any time to the Knight's hall for a drink on him.
All in all, an extremely surreal experience. I can't wait to see what happens when I bring over their prints. Maybe then I can ask what they do there, because I highly doubt anyone brings their car there, especially with all that firewood stacked in front of the garage door.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "120",
image: "LongYear12.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear12.jpg",
title: "Drifting 1",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "130",
image: "LongYear13.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear13.jpg",
title: "Macrocosm",
caption1: "I was talking to my friend Lauren Johnston (portrait in the works) the other day about collecting rocks as children. We share a certain enthusiasm for geodes and I wasted little time rooting through my rock collection (one of many childhood habits I have yet to kick).
I enjoy this geode in particular because it seems like so much more than just a pretty rock. The strata and swirl and the crystals all come together almost alchemically, a stony encapsulation of the elements of the world. With things like this floating around, it is not hard to believe in things like transmutation.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "140",
image: "LongYear14.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear14.jpg",
title: "1911",
caption1: "I have no idea what this is.
I own a lot of strange stuff, but it is a rare day for me to admit I don't even have a vague notion of something's purpose.
This is a grimy and possibly blood stained piece of fabric with '1911' written on both sides. The fabric is sandwiched between two equally grimy plates of glass, which are held together by a narrow metal frame. Sticking out from the bottom of the frame are three screw points, one in the middle, one near either side.
1911 was the year the Titanic sank, the Mona Lisa was stolen, Pancho Villa joined the Mexican Revolution, the New York Public Library opened, and the Wright Brothers took flight, among many other notable event, but I kind of doubt this is connected to any of them.
Your guess is really as good as mine.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "150",
image: "LongYear15.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear15.jpg",
title: "Happenstance",
caption1: "Sometimes, you have to go where the camera takes you.
I went out in the rain into my muddy disaster of a back yard in order to shoot the soggy yellow flowers of the pussy willow. They look pretty odd on a dry day, but when they are wet, they look utterly alien.
When I got out there, I discovered that each flower was hosting at least one ant, and in most cases two or three. They were burrowed in among the fronds, unmoving, apparently seeking shelter from the rain. It was odd.
In the end, though, it was this unintentional shot that really caught my attention. I don't know if it is the light, or the out of focus ant on his way to shelter, or something less definable, but there is definitely something going on here. Happy accidents, gotta love 'em.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "160",
image: "LongYear16.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear16.jpg",
title: "Laugh",
caption1: "Everyone likes to laugh, but I'm not sure I've decided what he's laughing at. I initially thought he was laughing drunk, but there is a creepy depravity in his features that leads me to believe he might be laughing maliciously. Perhaps he thinks he's pulled one over on me, that I've stumbled into his trap.
But oh, no, he's wrong. The last laugh? That one is mine.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "170",
image: "LongYear17.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear17.jpg",
title: "Post No Bills",
caption1: "I'm not a fan of advertising, but I do love its detritus. This fence is usually covered with posters, but today, they're all gone, leaving behind pealed and scraped loveliness. What more can I guy like me want?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "180",
image: "LongYear18.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear18.jpg",
title: "What Branches Grow?",
caption1: "If I stare, these textures become less a tree and more something nautical - a cave, seaweed, the birth of barnacles. I also wonder about that nail, what the paper it held said, and how I would feel if I had a pointy bit of metal stuck in me long enough for it to rust. But mostly, I just shudder at those sprouts of moss that look like the fruiting bodies of some noxious fungus.
This goes back, of course, to my discomfort at seeing things grow in the spring. Whatever is going on there, it all seems so distastefully organic. But then I suppose that is the point. Like the man said, 'April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land.'
Then again, going back the initial, fanciful impression of ocean rocks, the man also said, 'Fear death by water.'",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "190",
image: "LongYear19.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear19.jpg",
title: "Terminal",
caption1: "Nothing about this says, 'comfortable.'
If he had lived longer, Kafka would have written vast, monstrous novels about airports. Characterized by poor temperature control and all the ambiance of some kind of modernist architectural hell, they always seem purpose built to amplify boredom and frustration instead of assuage it.
Airports are the closest thing to Purgatory on this temporal plane.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "200",
image: "LongYear20.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear20.jpg",
title: "Strangler",
caption1: "I find that the Columbus region of Ohio has a distinct feeling of solidity. The downtown skyline is small, but broad and weighty. Almost everything pre-WWII is made of bricks, including the streets, and everything more recent seems to be stucco and field stone. I saw front steps made from massive granite blocks that I wager will stay put even if another glacier slides through in the next ice age. This is a place that was built for permanence.
Even this house, one of the few in the historic German Village district that is made of wood, shrugs off the burden of its strangling vines with little effort. In most places, vines like that form a symbiotic relationship with the buildings they grow on. Not so here - all those tiny black dots mark the spots where the vines tried, and failed, to find purchase. That house is wearing them the same way I wear a scarf.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "210",
image: "LongYear21.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear21.jpg",
title: "Clay People",
caption1: "Ever get one of those gifts that someone went to a lot of trouble to give you, but you don't particularly care for? I got the impression that was the case with these clay soldiers from China. I commented on how cool they were and I got quizzical looks and a, 'Really?'
Still, since I am unlikely to go see the real things in China any time soon, I felt they'd make a pretty good photo for the Long Year. Gives them a touch of destiny that amuses me.
I'm sure there is a moral in there somewhere, but I'll leave it to you to decide.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "220",
image: "LongYear22.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear22.jpg",
title: "Lucy",
caption1: "This fine old lady is Lucy, the family shotgun.
As far as we know, it was the shotgun that was kept at the Horvath Brothers Dairy and, loaded, it guarded the cash payroll of the Horvath Brothers Trucking Company, until the day it accidentally went off while my grandfather was cleaning it - just to the side of my grandmother's head. Understandably, it was broken down and forgotten in a filing cabinet that moved from the trucking company into the office of my father's machine shop. When he passed away last year, I brought it home. By this time it was in pretty shabby condition.
I brought it to a gunsmith to be cleaned. I had wanted to bring it to the range and fire it a couple times because, well, because shotguns are bad ass, really. Unfortunately, the smith said, “This 80-year-old gun is just like an 80-year-old man. You can make him jog around the block over and over again and he may do alright for a while, but eventually he's going to fall over and have a heart attack.”
I took the hint and we decided it would be better for everyone involved, including my fingers, that I just hang it on the wall as an heirloom.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "230",
image: "LongYear23.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear23.jpg",
title: "The Pumpkin Jar",
caption1: "I have many things in many bottles secreted around my house. Some are full of shells and coins and foreign dirt. Others contain worms and ancient razor blades and less identifiable things. One bottle even hold the soul of a dead sailor.
In this Mason jar, I bottled Autumn.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "240",
image: "LongYear24.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear24.jpg",
title: "Drifting 2",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "250",
image: "LongYear25.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear25.jpg",
title: "The Glassy Eyes of Evil",
caption1: "If you are good to your toys and play nice, when you are asleep and they come alive, they will leave you alone, perhaps even protect you. If you are mean to them, breaking and abusing them, they will cause you no end of mischief.
Some toys, though, are just plain evil and will try to kill you in your sleep if you give them half the chance. I put this fellow squarely in the third category.
I left him on the table in the studio. I have no doubt he is trying to find a way out as I type this...wait...is that jingling I hear the cat's bell or...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "260",
image: "LongYear26.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear26.jpg",
title: "Chinese Food",
caption1: "Most New York City Chinese food joints come in varying degrees of dingy. Maybe its the white tiles or the open kitchens or the mirrors no one ever gets around to cleaning, but they never seem terribly welcoming, let alone cozy. My favored place around the corner, where I got dinner tonight, is no exception.
There are actually something like four within walking distance, one of which is closer, but I like all the hanging lanterns and ornaments this place has, like the plastic fish/prayer drum by the specials board. Most places have one or two, this one has dozens, it's great. Granted, I could maybe do without the furtive patrons hunched over their tables eating fried chicken (a baffling mystery in itself). Then again, that probably means the food is safe, so I shouldn't complain.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "270",
image: "LongYear27.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear27.jpg",
title: "The Strangled Cat Machine",
caption1: "The most I can make an accordion do is wheeze asthmatically.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "280",
image: "LongYear28.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear28.jpg",
title: "Tendrils",
caption1: "I seem to be becoming more and more interested in the abstract structure of plants. This, for instance, is not Cthulhu or a new breed of octopus. It is the curling tentacles of the Tillandsia that usually makes its home on my desk. Tillandsias are also know as air plants, bromeliads that need neither soil nor, if they are in a humid enough environment, regular watering. This makes them odd looking, hearty plans that I have a very hard time killing.
But between you and me, let's just pretend that it is Cthulhu woken from his ancient slumber...strange how something so mundane can be made to look strange and menacing with just a subtle shift in perception.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "290",
image: "LongYear29.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear29.jpg",
title: "The Hours of a Day",
caption1: "Sometimes, I have these days that are delirious roller coasters - difficult to summarize and exhausting to live through.
This one started with dread born of an excellent weekend that was about to transition into a thankless day at the hated job. What followed was a medley of frustration and anger that almost bubbled over into naked rage. Instead, it culminated in a moment of blunt honesty that turned into satisfaction and relief. After work, there was a surprise, an exciting treat in the form of the new Doctor Who (I really thought it was going to be terrible and it turned out to be fantastic). Things were looking up.
At this point, you must be totally confused as to what any of this has to do with the photo of the day. Said photo depicts a detail of a solid steel piston from an airplane motor which, for some reason, my father made into the world's heaviest clock by inserting a cheap, battery powered clockwork into the center. It is an absolutely ridiculous artifact and a perfect distillation of the way he thought about the world. And the clock keeps fantastic time.
When I got home after Doctor Who, I foolishly looked at the letter that my mother told me arrived in the mail today. It was from a man named Anthony Cundari, who had known my father at some point in high school, 45 years ago. Having just bought a Ford and gone to a reunion, my father was apparently on his mind and he wrote the letter in hopes of catching up. Now, someone has to write to tell him that he missed his chance. It struck me as profoundly sad.
Hour by hour, today has changed its temperament so wildly that I felt I had to end it with an introspective moment and a photo of the strange clock my father made.
And yet, this day isn't yet done with me. While prepping the photo and writing this caption, I just had a conversation with a friend that left me laughing so hard I thought I was going to have an aneurysm. Up and down and up and down and...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "300",
image: "LongYear30.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear30.jpg",
title: "Remover of Obstacles",
caption1: "The four-armed, elephant-headed deva Ganesha is one of the most popular Hindu deities. Also called the Lord of Beginnings and the patron of art and science, his unusual appearance has always made him memorable for me. I'm a sucker for people with animal heads, it seems.
Like most Hindu mythology, I find the stories about Ganesha colorful, amusing and, above all, baffling. My Western brain just can't grasp their significance the way it can, say, the story of the Minotaur.
Take, for instance, the explanation for why he has an elephant head. He was originally born with a human head but his father, Shiva, depending on the version, either incinerated it or lopped it off with an axe. Accidentally, of course. Shiva's solution was to simply replace the old ruined head with that of an elephant.
Even more bizarre is that Ganesha has been known to ride a mouse. Not a giant mouse. A wee, regular sized mouse on whose back the pot-bellied god rides by balancing precariously on one foot.
See? Inscrutable.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "310",
image: "LongYear31.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear31.jpg",
title: "Skulls",
caption1: "I mentioned earlier that I have many jars and bottles in my house, filled with a great variety of things. Some of those things I have completely forgotten about, like this jar full of skull shaped beads.
They used to be a bracelet (like all my beaded bracelets, the elastic inside only lasted about a month before it broke) from Tibet. These kinds of bracelets are a Tibetan memento mori and are traditionally carved from human bone. These are supposedly carved from yak bone, but I bought it over the internet, so really, anything is possible.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "320",
image: "LongYear32.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear32.jpg",
title: "Fallen",
caption1: "I don't like days like today. The older you get, the more you have them - and they wear you down, piece by piece.
Have a good one, man.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "330",
image: "LongYear33.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear33.jpg",
title: "A Survivor of the Battlefields of my Youth",
caption1: "A Saracen knight from Britains, this fellow was always one of my favorites as a kid. I think it was the conical orange hat. Or maybe it was the badass 'stache. If I recall correctly, he usually wound up as a leader of foreign mercenaries (I think, in my mind, his mustache made him an ancestor of the modern day Major Bludd, himself a badass mercenary) who would betray his good guy employers at a critical moment in the battle, turning the tide for the invaders. If he survived, he would be given the castle as a reward.
A ruthless sort, his first act in his new position of authority was to execute all but a small handful of the surviving defenders, who in turn, would go into hiding (you know, in the cushions of the couch or some such). They would strike back in the night, assassinating the mercenary and his officers, re-taking the castle and eventually winning the day against the cruel invaders.
Most of my imaginary scenarios were this elaborate and morally murky.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "340",
image: "LongYear34.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear34.jpg",
title: "A Home for Hornets",
caption1: "An abandoned wasp nest in the shade of an abandoned lamp outside an abandoned factory.
This pleases me. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "350",
image: "LongYear35.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear35.jpg",
title: "White Wash",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "360",
image: "LongYear36.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear36.jpg",
title: "Rings",
caption1: "For years, I have worn silver rings. I used to wear one on every finger, a compulsion - if I wore less, I felt somehow naked. I eventually collected so many rings I needed this cobalt blue hand to keep them in order.
When I forget to wear them, it feels strange.
A long time ago, a girl whose name I do not remember asked me what the stories behind my rings were. I made a lame Lord of the Rings joke and that was that. My rings did not have stories then.
I wear only three now, day in, day out. I doubt anyone even notices them, but these three are ripe with meaning. The skull is a memento mori, a constant reminder that death may be right around the corner. The ankh retains its classic meaning of eternal life (though ancient Egyptians would never cast a sun symbol in silver, I enjoy the apparent contradiction of seeing it in the moon's metal). Lastly, I wear a Green Man, ostensibly a fertility symbol, but one I take to represent living life to its fullest.
There is meaning there, perhaps even a moral, if you choose to see it.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "370",
image: "LongYear37.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear37.jpg",
title: "Oi Oi Oi",
caption1: "OK, so I'm nowhere near a skinhead, but my hair is currently the shortest it has ever been so I thought that deserved some photographic evidence (also, I am incredibly vain in my own way - another reason for some photographic evidence). The shortest hair record was previously set more than a decade ago when I shaved my long hair (back when I could grow it long without it looking pathetic). Back then, I did it because my friends collected 60 bucks for incentive.
This time, I paid for it. I thought you were supposed to get wiser the older you get.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "380",
image: "LongYear38.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear38.jpg",
title: "I am Well Aware of the Time of Day, Thank You",
caption1: "Sometimes a drink isn't a drink, it is a moment of reflection.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "390",
image: "LongYear39.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear39.jpg",
title: "Snow Covered Pagodas",
caption1: "The fruiting bodies of white rot climb across a scar in the bark of a sad little tree. A rather pretty bloom of decay, really.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "400",
image: "LongYear40.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear40.jpg",
title: "Wabi for Measuring Sabi",
caption1: "'It was not the wabi of battered but still useful objects that I was seeking; it was the sabi of things utterly dejected and destitute, alone and forgotten - whatever was submitting to its essential impermanence, its transitory nature, whatever was teetering on the brink of non-existence that was the fate of everything that had ever been and awaited everything that would ever be...every person, every place, every purpose, and every plan that could possibly be conceived.'
Thomas Ligotti
My Work is Not Yet Done",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "410",
image: "LongYear41.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear41.jpg",
title: "Planning the Escape",
caption1: "The only way out is through, though I'm not sure I want to know what's behind this particular door.
Actually, nothing is through it. For years, it was sitting in the rafters of the old garage, aging to perfection. For the last 8 months, its been in the alley next to the house. At the time of this photo, it was lying on the expanse of dirt that is currently my back yard, soaking up a little sunlight.
But there's something about a door like this, even one that is not in a doorway, that makes me think that if you open it the right way, there'd be something terribly interesting on the other side. With my luck, though, it'd just be a steaming pit filled with claymation gremlins like in The Gate.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "420",
image: "LongYear42.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear42.jpg",
title: "Appetite for Enlightenment",
caption1: "Rubbing the Buddha's belly is good luck, right? I can always use a little bit of extra luck but I get the feeling that this grinning degenerate would just as soon eat me as look at me. Of all the Buddhas in the world, leave it to me to find the Zombuddha with a potbelly full of evil.
I guess this puts an interesting spin on the whole 'If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha' thing.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "430",
image: "LongYear43.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear43.jpg",
title: "Drifting 3",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "440",
image: "LongYear44.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear44.jpg",
title: "Horvath Museum Artifact 86.1.25",
caption1: "The curator found this small clay fragment in an antique shop in Essex, Massachusetts and believes it is of South American, possibly Incan, origin. Or it could just be a cheap modern reproduction, who knows? I really could use an actual archaeologist friend to tell me what the deal is with some the stuff I have laying around here. Anybody?
At any rate, this jolly looking fellow got the photographic treatment because I just finished The Lost City of Z by David Grann (an excellent read!) and I can't help but be fascinated by the special kind of madness that draws explorers into the wilds of South America. On the one hand, there are about a million reasons never to step foot near the Amazon rain forests (piranhas, electric eels, myriad insects, parasites, infections, gigantic rats, even more gigantic snakes and the beyond horrific candiru, just to name a few). On the other hand...no, you know what, the hell with the other hand. I bet those lost cities are pretty awesome and all, but I enjoy not having malaria and being free of ticks and not being shot with poison arrows, thank you very much.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "450",
image: "LongYear45.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear45.jpg",
title: "Water Towers",
caption1: "Every once in a while, I look up and notice the rooftop water towers in New York City and I remember how strange and ancient they look. For a week, I'll notice them every where. Then I will forget them entirely.
They are pretty odd. I'm fairly New York is the only city that has them, at least in such widespread numbers. And they look so old because they practically are: they have been made pretty much the same way and out of the same type of wood for hundred of years. Built in a manner similar to barrels, they leak initially until the planks expand with moisture, sealing the tank fast. And now you know.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "460",
image: "LongYear46.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear46.jpg",
title: "Exorcism",
caption1: "I saw you.
You just wanted to take a razor
and cut
his face
until it bled.
You wanted to inflict.
I saw
the barbed hooks
penetrate
deep
inside
of his flesh.
-Killing Joke
Exorcism
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "470",
image: "LongYear47.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear47.jpg",
title: "The Great God Pan",
caption1: "Classical depictions of the god Pan were always as a satyr, a man with the horns and legs of a goat, but that doesn't seem to do him justice. I've always pictured something more horrible, in line with the creature in Arthur Machen's classic story (the title of which I stole for this photo) or Guillermo Del Toro's vision of the god in Pan's Labyrinth. The word panic is derived from his name, his visage should be one that inspires it.
This cane handle is carved to resemble a ram, but the wan features, broad nose and dark eyes always struck me as rather alien. I've thought of it as Pan ever since. There are worse gods to have in the umbrella stand.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "480",
image: "LongYear48.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear48.jpg",
title: "Read Between the Lines",
caption1: "I suppose if you are a lumberyard, you need a way to show off your product. Boarding up the front of your building and painting a sign on it doesn't really strike me as the best way to go about it, but E. W. McClave Inc. has been in business since 1853, so what do I know?
Not that I should be complaining, peeling paint and old-fashioned lettering is my bread and butter.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "490",
image: "LongYear49.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear49.jpg",
title: "Down on Porete Avenue",
caption1: "The window of an abandoned factory on Porete Avenue in North Arlington. It's a strange little industrial section tucked under a cliff behind a Jewish cemetery and there's a lot of strange history to tell about it. I'll tell you all about it when I go back but in the meantime, enjoy the weathered sabi.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "500",
image: "LongYear50.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear50.jpg",
title: "The Magnified Calavera",
caption1: "The bulletin board that forms the back of my desk is covered in postcards, several of which are reproductions of the classic Mexican Loteria deck. La Calavera is nicely distorted by a standing magnifying glass, the circular curve of which is echoed by the webs of La Arana next to it.
Out of the frame, these cards are flanked by La Sirena and El Diablito. You know what that means?
Bingo!",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "510",
image: "LongYear51.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear51.jpg",
title: "Unsettling Happiness",
caption1: "The oni are evil Japanese spirits or ogres that delights in tormenting the unwary by beating them with iron clubs. Spring is the time to drive them away with soybeans and holly and monkey statues.
Why a monstrous ogre with an iron club would be afraid of some beans and a monkey statue is beyond me, but then, a lot of Japanese culture is beyond me.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "520",
image: "LongYear52.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear52.jpg",
title: "Salvation or...",
caption1: "When Theseus was navigating the Labyrinth, he took a ball of twine so he could find his way back out again. You know, after he killed the bloodthirsty Minotaur, an insane half-man, half-bull cannibal monster. So if you want to survive the maze, is it enough just to have a good exit strategy? Or is knowing that you have the means to make it out all the weapon you need?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "530",
image: "LongYear53.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear53.jpg",
title: "Red Letters",
caption1: "De Quincey's Confessions of an English Opium-Eater; The Lady of the Barge, by W. W. Jacobs (containing the seminal horror story 'The Monkey's Paw'); Audels' Shipfitter's Guide (in case you want to build a steel ship, like my father attempted many years ago); De Joinville's Memoir of the Crusades (red indeed); A Short History of the World by H. G. Wells; Manual do Formador (a hand book for making plaster architectural ornaments, in Portuguese, I think); Everyman and the Manual of Heraldry (for those times when you need to know if your lion is rampant or passant). ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "540",
image: "LongYear54.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear54.jpg",
title: "Book End",
caption1: "The New Arabian Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson; Homer's Odyssey (don't leave home without it); Goethe's Faust (one of many editions I own); The Lyrics and Shorter Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelly; L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, Comus and Lycidas by Milton; The Lady or the Tiger? by Frank R. Stockton (well, which is it?); Burns' Poetical Works (gie her a haggis!); and Lord Dunsany's Plays of Gods and Men.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "550",
image: "LongYear55.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear55.jpg",
title: "Cemetery Gate",
caption1: "Across the street from my favorite old local cemetery is an equally old Jewish cemetery that I have never been to, mostly because there is no clear way to get in. I finally managed it today and, well, I am confused by what I found there.
See, this sign, which seems like it should be over the entrance, is actually standing pretty much in the middle of the cemetery. A few feet away is another sign of a similar design...but with a completely different name on it. After that, I found several stone entryways scattered about the place, all with different names and all standing in pretty much open space. I imagine that the main cemetery is split into different districts maintained by different organizations and temples, but for such a small, jumbled spit of land wedged between a factory row, railroad tracks and a busy main road, it winds up seeming rather silly.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "560",
image: "LongYear56.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear56.jpg",
title: "The Crumbling Remains of an Identity",
caption1: "I found this crumbling tombstone in Christ Church Cemetery, a well-hidden and very old graveyard in Belleville. I've never encountered a cemetery so assaulted by time. Almost every stone dating from before the 1820s, like this one, is blank because they were cut from local slate. Over time, the carved surface has been pulled away by gravity and the elements along the stone's brittle lines of cleavage, leaving only small snatches of information about the plot's inhabitant.
Further evidence that nothing lasts forever.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "570",
image: "LongYear57.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear57.jpg",
title: "Cobalt Blue",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "580",
image: "LongYear58.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear58.jpg",
title: "Inside the Witch Ball",
caption1: "A witch ball is a hollow sphere of transparent glass, usually blue or green, within which a drippy swirl of decorative glass strands are suspended. Traditionally hung in windows or porches, witch balls are supposed to attract the attention of evil spirits who, mesmerized, will become trapped within the strands. Think of it as the 200-year-old New England version of a bug zapper, except for bad mojo instead of mosquitoes. Gotta love superstition.
Except, the funny thing is, the first one I bought seems to have captured something.
Like all witch balls, my first was perfectly transparent, but after hanging in my window for several months, it mysteriously fogged up. There are no cracks and no holes - I submerged it in a bucket of water hoping to find one. Over the years, I've asked the people in shops that sell the balls if they've ever seen one fog up and the answer is always no. So, for me, the only reasonable thing left is to assume that the fog is caused by a captured imp sent by my enemies to bring mischief to my home.
Ok, maybe that's a little ridiculous, but I'm still going to be extra careful not to break it...
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "590",
image: "LongYear59.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear59.jpg",
title: "Lake Monster",
caption1: "At some point during my childhood, probably around 1st or 2nd grade, my love of dinosaurs transitioned to a love of monsters. Any kind of monster would do, but I had (and still have) a special fondness for the legendary creatures of the deeps. I think the blame for this can be put squarely on the shoulders of "Mystery at Loch Ness," a Choose Your Own Adventure (that I still have handy on my bookshelves), which in turn lead to dozens of other books about the monster, which in turn lead to books about other monsters (hello Kraken, nice to meet you Gloucester Serpent) and that in turn eventually crossed me over to the likes of Lovecraft and his hideous sea beasties. End result? I know an awful lot about sea monsters. Also, I don't swim anymore. Even in pools. You never know when they'll come for you...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "600",
image: "LongYear60.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear60.jpg",
title: "Roof Lizard",
caption1: "I have transitioned from my Blue Period to my Dinosaur Period.
This stegosaurus (such strange looking creature, I can barely picture it as a living animal, let alone being the size of an elephant and even the vague notion of it basking in the sun on a rooftop is hilarious) is part of what is known as the British Museum of Natural History series of model dinosaurs, from a company called Invicta. I believe they've been discontinued, but I always liked their simplicity and their faux realism (there's no way to tell the actual texture of dinosaur skin but these toys fake it pretty good). I only had the big red T-Rex when I was a kid (see the last Long Year) but bought a selection of other beasties when I saw them on eBay during one of my nostalgia safaris.
Anyway. Dinosaurs are awesome. I recommend everyone have a Dinosaur Period every once in a while.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "610",
image: "LongYear61.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear61.jpg",
title: "This is How I Feel Today",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "620",
image: "LongYear62.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear62.jpg",
title: "Stumpy",
caption1: "So there I was, trespassing on the grounds of the seemingly abandoned Belleville Elementary School Number 1 when I looked up at the second story window and saw a lump of orange fur pressed against the window. It startled me for a moment, but in short order, it moved, revealing itself to be a lounging cat and not whatever I initially thought it was (corpse? voodoo totem?). A wise cat, taking up residence in an abandoned building.
He skulked away almost immediately and I was struck by how odd he looked with his stocky build and squinting countenance. But by far, his strangest feature was his missing tail. If you look closely here, you can see that it is just a stump. It made him walk funny and I can't help but wonder about the tale behind it (no pun intended).
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "630",
image: "LongYear63.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear63.jpg",
title: "Fooy",
caption1: "Among the winding one way streets of North Arlington, there is a strange curving road that runs past a giant brick wall. The wall itself contains a massive pattern of cement blocks that spell out the name Tse. Atop the wall are several statues of foo dogs, of which this is one. The wall opens into gate for a wide driveway, flanked by two more foo dogs, these of the most massive sort, only a little shorter than I am.
I've driven by it on a couple occasions and always thought it was the entrance to some small estate, perhaps one of Dutch manor houses that dotted the area back in the late 1600s.
Of course, I was wrong. I took a peek today and learned that the wall surrounds a large yard characterized by its well kept lawn and two trees. On the far side is a sizable three car garage made of identical brick. The house along side is typical of the neighborhood, a run of the mill, post war number whose only notable feature was the name 'Ray Tse' spelled out in white bricks down the side of the chimney.
I don't know anything about Ray, but I think I like him.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "640",
image: "LongYear64.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear64.jpg",
title: "The Russian Dancer",
caption1: "Every once in a while, something happens accidentally that you just have to roll with. Like with this yellow jacket corpse. Sure, I probably could have arranged it to make it look badass, or poignant, or something like that. Instead, I accidentally flicked it with my handy tweezers and it landed looking like it was in the middle of a Russian Dance.
How can I mess with that?
Well, I could find him a little fur hat, I suppose. But that would be ridiculous.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "650",
image: "LongYear65.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear65.jpg",
title: "Good Eats",
caption1: "I have an old printer's tray hanging on the wall outside my office. Its little compartments are filled with equally little oddities. One compartment has a plaster cast of some creepy child teeth holding up an orange meal ticket from the Revere Square & Compass Club (whatever and wherever that may be).
Things like that make me smile.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "660",
image: "LongYear66.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear66.jpg",
title: "Tranquil",
caption1: "This is not how I feel today, but I'm tryin'.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "670",
image: "LongYear67.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear67.jpg",
title: "A Bouquet of Teeth",
caption1: "I am a collector of oddities and curiosities and nothing says that better than my recently purchased vial of razor sharp teeth rings from the suckers of Humboldt squid tentacles.
All the better to tear your ribbons with, my dear.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "680",
image: "LongYear68.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear68.jpg",
title: "This Side Up",
caption1: "One day, I am going to receive a shipment of antiquities in a wooden crate packed with wood shavings that needs to be opened with a crowbar. Until then, I can live with getting my oddities in boxes marked with interesting foreign labels. If nothing else, it is less of a mess to clean up.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "690",
image: "LongYear69.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear69.jpg",
title: "Girl's Entrance",
caption1: "The seemingly abandoned Belleville Public School Number 1 (home of Stumpy the cat from last Saturday's photo of the day) is old enough to have separate entrances for the male and female students. Back in the day, this is the way things were done. Nowadays, it just seems silly. Or maybe bait for a dirty joke, but I wouldn't know of such things - my mom reads this, after all.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "700",
image: "LongYear70.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear70.jpg",
title: "The Rusted Gate",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "710",
image: "LongYear71.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear71.jpg",
title: "Snake Oil",
caption1: "Another box from China, but this one by way of Hawaii and probably in the neighborhood of one hundred years old. The box contains an unopened and unknown traditional Chinese medicine, an amazing treasure, but the box, with its worn paper seal, is just as valuable to me.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "720",
image: "LongYear72.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear72.jpg",
title: "Octopode",
caption1: "This is the body of a small octopus preserved in a block of acrylic. A small label indicates that it is from Ward's Natural Science catalog (your source for science since 1862!), most likely in the 1960s (a good guess on my part, anyway). Evidence seems to point to it having been used as a paperweight for a long number of years.
Yep, you read that right.
In the interest of keeping things educational, I'd like to share with you a tidbit of Hawaiian mythology. The ancient Hawaiians believed that this world was only the most recent in a series of worlds that had been born, prospered and finally fell into ruin. In the last cataclysm, however, a lone, bizarre creature survived to swim in in the oceans of the new world: the clever but utterly alien octopus.
Makes you think twice about the possibility of a giant octopus god sleeping in a sunken city in the Pacific Ocean, doesn't it?
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "730",
image: "LongYear73.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear73.jpg",
title: "Varmint, Past Tense",
caption1: "When I was a kid, my favorite prehistoric non-dinosaur was the smilodon, or saber-toothed tiger. This is not a smilodon skull. It is a skunk. Who knew skunks had such pointy fangs?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "740",
image: "LongYear74.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear74.jpg",
title: "Jump No More",
caption1: "Believe it or not, this is the skull of a jack rabbit. Honestly, to me, this looks like some kind of creepy horse alien. I can't quite figure out how you could put some fur and a couple of floppy ears on this frame and make it look cute. In fact, it almost seems like the skull is in portrait and profile simultaneously, like a cubist painting. It doesn't quite make visual sense to me. That web of strands that I imagine is some sort of sinus structure (I can't really bear to look it up) isn't helping either. I may have to rethink this whole skull-collecting thing.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "750",
image: "LongYear75.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear75.jpg",
title: "I See You",
caption1: "Well, as a matter of fact, if I close my right eye, I can't.
Not many folks know this, but when I was in the fifth grade, I took an accidental aluminum baseball bat to the head, the result of which was a cracked skull and one less eyeball. The cracked skull explains a lot, developmentally, I guess. The missing eye doesn't really explain anything though.
I used to have a boring old silicone prosthetic, but ever the enthusiast of things old, I tracked down this turn of the century glass one about three years ago. And I bet if I hadn't told you, you would have never known...
Then again, I could just be having you on.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "760",
image: "LongYear76.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear76.jpg",
title: "The First Bite",
caption1: "There is an abandoned mattress factory next to the Bowl-a-Drome (I may have taken this photo just so I could write this sentence). Vines have slowly but surely conquered each of the old windows one at a time, choking them with green ropes. Judging from this creeping scout, this vent is the next to go. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "770",
image: "LongYear77.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear77.jpg",
title: "Brer Fox",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "780",
image: "LongYear78.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear78.jpg",
title: "Philately",
caption1: "I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.<br /><br />His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.<br /><br />Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.<br /><br />But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"<br />" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.<br /><br />His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.<br /><br />Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.<br /><br />But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"<br />" ><br />" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.<br /><br />His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.<br /><br />Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.<br /><br />But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"<br />" ><br />" ><br />" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.<br /><br />His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.<br /><br />Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.<br /><br />But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"<br />" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.<br /><br />His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.<br /><br />Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.<br /><br />But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"<br />" ><br />" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.<br /><br />His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.<br /><br />Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.<br /><br />But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"<br />" >
" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.
His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.
Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.
But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"
" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.
His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.
Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.
But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"
" >
" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.
His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.
Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.
But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"
" >
" >
" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.
His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.
Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.
But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"
" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.
His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.
Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.
But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"
" >
" >I like old stamps. There is something about them that I've always found interesting and intriguing, a combination of the romance of letters and far off places, old fashioned design and perhaps the sense of wabi that comes with those heavy black cancellation stamps. There's also something interesting about stamp collectors. I am not one, but my grandfather was and I have many gigantic albums to prove it. I wouldn't characterize it as an obsession for him, but he did take it fairly seriously and kept up with it for decades. It required a specific kind of fastidiousness that I continue to associate with him.
His stamp collection also has a mystery attached to it, one that I personally know only a few details of and, frankly, I am loathe to dig deeper. I am content, in this instance, to let the mystery continue to be mysterious.
Granddad was in Europe during World War II as part of the 3rd Armored Division. Towards the end of the war, they captured a number of SS officers, one of which drew my grandfather's portrait on the back of an old envelope. Somehow or another, that officer's stamp collection also came into my grandfather's possession. That right there is fodder for dozens of potential stories and I inevitably make up a new one whenever I take a look through the old collection.
But the biggest mystery for me is,"Why on earth did an SS officer on the battlefield have his stamp collection on his person in the first place?"
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "790",
image: "LongYear79.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear79.jpg",
title: "Tweet Tweet",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "800",
image: "LongYear80.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear80.jpg",
title: "Hippity-hop",
caption1: "This fellow, and the bird from last night, are proof that eBay can still yield some fantastic treasures for a good price. Fifteen bucks for the pair of them!
This one in particular, though, reinforces a mysterious trend I have detected. Namely that, despite real life bunnies being adorable, toy bunnies, designed to be cute, always look like they're thinking about gnawing your face off.
Nom nom nom.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "810",
image: "LongYear81.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear81.jpg",
title: "Samsonesque",
caption1: "The Biblical strongman Samson killed a thousand Philistines armed only with the jawbone of an ass. How may Philistines, I wonder, could I kill with this racooon jaw? A dozen? Two dozen?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "820",
image: "LongYear82.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear82.jpg",
title: "Life on Mars",
caption1: "Sailors fighting in the dance hall
Oh man! Look at those cavemen go
It's the freakiest show
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "830",
image: "LongYear83.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear83.jpg",
title: "Lunacy",
caption1: "The moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "840",
image: "LongYear84.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear84.jpg",
title: "Storm's a-Comin'",
caption1: "That sky is downright biblical.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "850",
image: "LongYear85.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear85.jpg",
title: "Fight or Flight",
caption1: "These make me nervous.
This one was hanging from my grill earlier this spring, obviously abandoned, I've had it in a jar ever since. Months. And when I opened it to photograph it, I still avoided touching it, as if the ghosts of dead wasps would swarm me in response to the desecration.
What is it about these little clusters of paper hexagons that worries me so? Is it just some primal knowledge that messing with it will get me stung, perhaps a lot?
There is another one in the socket of the lamp next to the back door. It looks pretty deserted, but I think I will wait till December before I go prodding at it...
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "860",
image: "LongYear86.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear86.jpg",
title: "Fandom",
caption1: "A fan isn't worthy of the name unless blood and bone sprays out when your finger accidentally strays past the safety cage.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "870",
image: "LongYear87.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear87.jpg",
title: "Juju",
caption1: "I don't know much of anything about African mythology or what this mask depicts or even if it is fair to use the word juju in reference to it. All I know is that the eyes only glow when the answer is "yes."",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "880",
image: "LongYear88.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear88.jpg",
title: "The Red Spot",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "890",
image: "LongYear89.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear89.jpg",
title: "The Third Buddha",
caption1: "This is, as the title suggests, the third Buddha I have shot thus far in the Long Year and I think, by far, he is the most tranquil. I think that is partly because of the quality of the morning light and partly because of the plant (named Edgar) that is keeping Buddha company. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "900",
image: "LongYear90.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear90.jpg",
title: "Botánica",
caption1: "I will give Brookyln this much: having places like this every couple blocks is pretty fantastic. This is a particularly awesome example of a botánica, a store that sells folk remedies, statuary and other spiritual items, primarily in neighborhoods with large Central and South American populations.
I purposely avoid going into botánicas because I know I'll wind up buying too much of their weird stuff. Plus, who wants to ride the subway carrying a human skull or a giant statue of the archangel Michael?
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "910",
image: "LongYear91.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear91.jpg",
title: "Tarot",
caption1: "A netsuke skull, shot in the spirit of the Death card of the Tarot deck, which generally indicates transformation, change and transition, all of which I hope to have in spades over the next week.
Let's just hope I'm not photographing a Tower next week...
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "920",
image: "LongYear92.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear92.jpg",
title: "Ta for Now",
caption1: "I'm off to Los Angeles for the next week for E3. Fear not, the Long Year will continue, but due to my busy schedule of drinking free booze and playing videogames, it is unlikely I will be able to update regularly until I return.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "930",
image: "LongYear96.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear96.jpg",
title: "Ink & Mannequins",
caption1: "Despite having only a slim window of opportunity to take the photo of the day during E3, there was always something worth shooting, even if it was something unlikely. Like these mannequins, which were on display in a glass case on the stairs leading to the Conga Room, where the Bender/Helper PR agency had their after party.
I'm not sure what dramatically lit tattooed torsos have to do with congas, but then Los Angeles seems to be filled with curious mysteries like that.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "940",
image: "LongYear93.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear93.jpg",
title: "Typical Palms",
caption1: "I was surprised to learn that the palm tree is not native to Los Angeles. They were imported as far back as a hundred years ago from South America to give the city an air of the exotic. Today, they are dangerously tall hazards rife with disease and decay that no one wants to claim responsibility for.
Seems to me to be the perfect symbol for Los Angeles.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "950",
image: "LongYear94.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear94.jpg",
title: "Downtown",
caption1: "Downtown Los Angeles has a certain sense of seedy, tarnished grandeur that I really enjoy. For me, the gaudy neon sign and the stone edifice speaks to that, though the tent and refrigerator box city I discovered later (sans camera, alas) also spoke volumes.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "960",
image: "LongYear95.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear95.jpg",
title: "Home Sweet Home",
caption1: "I have a lamp in my living room that has a wooden Scotsman as its base. Originally, it was in the back room at my grandparent's house down the shore and it migrated up here when they did. It may be a little creepy (I recall Shawn Dillon telling a story about a similar lamp and his mother setting it up in his room while he was sleeping in order to scare the crap out of him - no wonder he is the way he is), but it has always been a welcoming sight to me, even more so after an exhausting trip cross country this week",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "970",
image: "LongYear97.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear97.jpg",
title: "Stopper",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "980",
image: "LongYear98.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear98.jpg",
title: "Rear Window",
caption1: "Jesus saves, man.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "990",
image: "LongYear99.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear99.jpg",
title: "The Forlorn Cat",
caption1: "Once, long ago, this was a cat. Time has made is something less of a cat over the years, but no less interesting to look at.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1000",
image: "LongYear100.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear100.jpg",
title: "Bulbous",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1010",
image: "LongYear101.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear101.jpg",
title: "The Severed Arm",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1020",
image: "LongYear102.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear102.jpg",
title: "Armless Androgyne",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1030",
image: "LongYear103.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear103.jpg",
title: "Fractured",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1040",
image: "LongYear104.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear104.jpg",
title: "Rochester Rooftop",
caption1: "The building across the way from my room at the Rochester Hyatt. I was intrigued by the odd jumble of architectural styles, both decorative and practical, particularly that ornate cornice and the lion medallions along the ledge contrasting with the black tar paper and the rusting ventilation unit. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1050",
image: "LongYear105.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear105.jpg",
title: "Abstract Tarmac",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1060",
image: "LongYear106.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear106.jpg",
title: "Heads You're It",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1070",
image: "LongYear107.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear107.jpg",
title: "Alien",
caption1: "A clump of unopened trumpet vine flowers? Or gestating pod people? You decide.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1080",
image: "LongYear108.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear108.jpg",
title: "",
caption1: "I got another factory back home
Got a little backyard, pink mustang, fenders chrome
At nine o'clock I'm in my chair sat down
Just lately now when my wife talks back to me I slap her around
And then I go to
And then I go to
And then I go to sleep
-Wall of Voodoo",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1090",
image: "LongYear109.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear109.jpg",
title: "Construction Shroud",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1100",
image: "LongYear110.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear110.jpg",
title: "Cellular",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1110",
image: "LongYear111.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear111.jpg",
title: "Caution",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1120",
image: "LongYear112.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear112.jpg",
title: "Danger, Danger",
caption1: "Fire in the disco
Fire in the Taco Bell
Fire in the disco
Fire in the gates of Hell",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1130",
image: "LongYear113.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear113.jpg",
title: "Turn it Up",
caption1: "Seriously. You can never make it too loud.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1140",
image: "LongYear114.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear114.jpg",
title: "The Hollow Girl",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1150",
image: "LongYear115.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear115.jpg",
title: "Bacchanal",
caption1: "For as long as I can remember, my good friend George's father has been growing grapes in their back yard. He's about as Spanish as they come, as tough as steel and I've understood about fifteen words he's said to me over the past twenty years. It is a safe bet that he makes his own wine with these grapes.
I've been meaning to shoot them for a long time. As it turns out, if the lighting is even close to being in the right neighborhood, grapes are incredibly satisfying to photograph. Who'd a thunk?
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1160",
image: "LongYear116.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear116.jpg",
title: "Go Away",
caption1: "I just want to read my book.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1170",
image: "LongYear117.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear117.jpg",
title: "Homunculus",
caption1: "After splicing together the doll parts and the animal skull and wrapping the mass in bandages, the alchemical formula was applied along with a strong electrical current and then the whole thing was buried in manure for forty days.
Upon digging the foul smelling thing up and removing the bandages, the creature flailed about unseeing while making a terrible, pitiful wailing sound. It only grew silent when confined to a bell jar with a slice of apple to gnaw on.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1180",
image: "LongYear118.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear118.jpg",
title: "Ruins",
caption1: "There is, for me, a certain mystique to a abandoned pool. They turn uncivilized so quickly, with dead leaves and algae and brackish water, and if left too long, look more suited to filling in than cleaning. But no matter how unappealing they get, pools are such social spaces it is impossible to not picture them in use by happy families in better days. They are all haunted, in a fashion.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1190",
image: "LongYear119.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear119.jpg",
title: "Corvair",
caption1: "When I looked through the overgrown chain link fence somewhere in Red Hook, I immediately thought of the Jim White song Corvair. "Got a Corvair in my yard. It hasn't run in fifteen years. It's a home for the birds now. It's no longer a car." Truer words could not be said about this car, even if I wouldn't know a Corvair if it crashed into me at high speed.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1200",
image: "LongYear120.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear120.jpg",
title: "King Leer",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1210",
image: "LongYear121.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear121.jpg",
title: "Modern Office Devices",
caption1: "A Re-Pe-To prescription book from the 1930s. The idea is that each incoming prescription is pasted onto a blank page of the book, simultaneously removing it from circulation and keeping a hard copy record of the transaction. Modern Office Device indeed.
Now to see what kind of drugs people's great grandparents used...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1220",
image: "LongYear122.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear122.jpg",
title: "Dead Leaves",
caption1: "Continuing the thought, after a fashion, from last night. I found myself lost in the textures of the previous photo on and off throughout the day and decided to approach the same subject, the prescription book, again but from a different angle. I think the result is equally mesmerizing, especially since the more I look at it, the more I see the press of pages as wood grain. It is as if, with time and damage, the paper is making a return to its original form.
As for the drugs of our great grandparents: I did try to read through some of the slips, but it turns out the doctors of our great grandparents had handwriting worse than ours.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1230",
image: "LongYear123.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear123.jpg",
title: "Little Blue Spines",
caption1: "A different kind of papery photograph, this time the spines of my small collection of Little Blue Books.
Little Blue Books are a series of pocket sized booklets on all subjects, from literature to socialism. The one on the top of the pile is The Obliterated Man and Other Stories, by H. G. Wells. The one on the bottom is City of the Dreadful Night, by Rudyard Kipling. Hm. A random one picked from the middle is...Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor from the Arabian Nights. OK, so I was apparently buying along a theme. But they do cover a broad range of topics, trust me. There are thousands of titles.
And strangely, none of the ones I have ever seen are actually blue...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1240",
image: "LongYear124.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear124.jpg",
title: "Pulp Fiction",
caption1: "I remember a time when books were everywhere. Specifically, I remember going into drugs stores and super markets and card shops and always being able to find one of those rotating wire racks of paperbacks. Usually the selection was just recent best sellers and summer reading - the best thing a kid like me would usually find was a Stephen King novel. But every once in a while, I would find a rack filled with genre fiction, anthologies or even (honestly, for back then, the best stroke of luck) choose your own adventures, their pulpy pages brand new but already yellowed and musty. I miss that.
In this pile (you'll have to just trust me on this) are The Hand of Fu Manchu by Sax Rohmer, The Spawn of Cthulhu anthology edited by Lin Carter (quite the rare for the days before Alibris), Zothique by Clark Ashton Smith, Night Fear by Frank Belknap Long, The Night Land (Vol. 1) by William Hope Hodgson, The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers and Wolfshead by Robert E. Howard.
If nothing on that list or about this photo got you excited to take a trip down to your local second hand book shop, I don't think we can be friends. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1250",
image: "LongYear125.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear125.jpg",
title: "The Abandoned House",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1260",
image: "LongYear126.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear126.jpg",
title: "Horrific Reflections",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1270",
image: "LongYear127.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear127.jpg",
title: "The Sky is on Fire",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1280",
image: "LongYear128.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear128.jpg",
title: "Here Be Dragons",
caption1: "If last week's theme was old book and paper, this week's theme is plastic monsters and nostalgia.
Thanks to Shawn Dillon, who kind enough to lend me some choice items from his collection, I will be sharing a group of strange toys from DFC's early '80s knock off Dungeons & Dragons play sets. I don't envy the green army men the first time they realized they were going to have to go up against dragons and orcs.
That said, I don't think this beastie is actually from the DFC sets. I've seen photos of their dragons and this one looks similar but still different. Anyone out there have any clues?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1290",
image: "LongYear129.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear129.jpg",
title: "Ogre",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1300",
image: "LongYear130.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear130.jpg",
title: "Lavaman will Set the Earth Aflame!",
caption1: "He will, dammit!",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1310",
image: "LongYear131.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear131.jpg",
title: "Gray Cat",
caption1: "Normally, I wouldn't ever consider photographing my cat. But then, tonight isn't normal.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1320",
image: "LongYear132.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear132.jpg",
title: "Organic",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1330",
image: "LongYear133.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear133.jpg",
title: "Rain",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1340",
image: "LongYear134.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear134.jpg",
title: "The Snake Pit",
caption1: "Alright, so maybe the Ogre isn't the creepiest of the DFC toys...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1350",
image: "LongYear135.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear135.jpg",
title: "Warband",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1360",
image: "LongYear136.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear136.jpg",
title: "My People are Nordic",
caption1: "My love for you is like a truck, Berserker ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1370",
image: "LongYear137.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear137.jpg",
title: "Candy Colored Death's Head",
caption1: "Death be not proud, but really, that's a lot of make-up.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1380",
image: "LongYear138.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear138.jpg",
title: "Worm Shell",
caption1: "Although called a worm because of its shape, this inelegant shell was actually the home of a marine snail. I'm not sure where it came from, but it never fails to remind my of the tube worms in the first GI Joe cartoon movie.
Alternately, it sort of looks like the curly fry of the sea...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1390",
image: "LongYear140.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear140.jpg",
title: "Gabba Gabba Hey!",
caption1: "It was a weekend of boardwalks.
First was Coney Island on Saturday night, and what's a trip to the grittiest urban beach without a stop at the freak show? The only one I could find, it was, of course, closed. Which is fine. It didn't feel as genuine as they used to anyway.
Very little about Coney Island did. I'm sure when the entire place is renovated and shiny and new, it will be a lovely place, but it won't be real. The real Coney Island is squalid and dark and dangerous at night. It's the home of the Warriors, for crying out loud! Losing that, negative though it may be, makes the world a little sadder.
We had gone to a Cyclones game earlier in the day. At the start, when they announced the team, the promo real was set to the overture to Requiem for a Dream. No one seemed to notice how ironic and disturbing that was...
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1400",
image: "LongYear139.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear139.jpg",
title: "A Modern Ruin",
caption1: "Sunday was a field trip to Asbury Park. Unlike Coney Island, which seems slightly renewed but somehow worse off, the once shuttered and beachless boardwalk at Asbury Park was the very portrait of quiet revitalization. It's quite pleasant and I highly recommend it.
For years, across from the Stone Pony, the concrete superstructure of a resort hotel stood unfinished and monolithic. When we went to shows, we would pass it and wonder, not joking, how many murders had been committed among the slabs of concrete. I had heard it was torn down once serious efforts were under way to revive the area. I was surprised that it wasn't completely gone, however. Only the upper stories had been removed. The rest still stood like a modern Stonehenge. Perhaps it is intended as a monument to urban blight.
Update: Thanks to dapawprint, I have new information regarding this structure. It is not the one that was there when I was going to the Stone Pony for shows in the 90s. That one was imploded a couple years ago to make way for...another condo complex that almost immediately stalled out financially. They blew up the original hulk to build a new one! Asbury Park has made an art of heartbreak.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1410",
image: "LongYear141.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear141.jpg",
title: "Ancient Chinese Medicine 1",
caption1: "I recently acquired a large number of unopened traditional Chinese medicine bottles from the 1920s. I did this because, some day, I want my house to look like that shop were they bought the mogwai in Gremlins.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1420",
image: "LongYear142.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear142.jpg",
title: "Ancient Chinese Medicine 2",
caption1: "<br /><br />It would be a happy life." ><br /><br />It would be a happy life." >Amendment to the plan posted yesterday. First, I need a Chinese junk. And a sign that reads "Mr. Horvath's Junk Shop." Then I need mogwais. Lots of them. I already have plenty of junk. Then I shall sail up and down the coast, peddling my wares. <br /><br />It would be a happy life." >Amendment to the plan posted yesterday. First, I need a Chinese junk. And a sign that reads "Mr. Horvath's Junk Shop." Then I need mogwais. Lots of them. I already have plenty of junk. Then I shall sail up and down the coast, peddling my wares.
It would be a happy life." >
It would be a happy life." >Amendment to the plan posted yesterday. First, I need a Chinese junk. And a sign that reads "Mr. Horvath's Junk Shop." Then I need mogwais. Lots of them. I already have plenty of junk. Then I shall sail up and down the coast, peddling my wares.
It would be a happy life.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1430",
image: "LongYear143.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear143.jpg",
title: "Fire Elemental",
caption1: "The geekiness returns after a brief interlude. This time, instead of knock-off vintage D&D toys, I give you actual vintage D&D toys. Here's a creepy fire elemental. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1440",
image: "LongYear144.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear144.jpg",
title: "Shiva",
caption1: "Those arms are like my days lately. They start at the bottom, the inane horde crowds around me demanding my attention and I implore them to stop. Then I get angry, fists clench. And finally, I throw my hands up in frustration.
Seriously, what's the point?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1450",
image: "LongYear145.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear145.jpg",
title: "The Destroyer",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1460",
image: "LongYear146.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear146.jpg",
title: "Burn the Witch",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1470",
image: "LongYear147.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear147.jpg",
title: "Eye",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1480",
image: "LongYear148.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear148.jpg",
title: "Dragonne",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1490",
image: "LongYear149.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear149.jpg",
title: "Little Wing",
caption1: "Found - one cicada wing on the hood of my car. If you are the owner (and haven't been eaten by a bird) contact via email to reclaim your property.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1500",
image: "LongYear150.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear150.jpg",
title: "Summer is Dying",
caption1: "The crickets are chirping and the cicadas are singing. Can you feel it? Fall is coming soon.
Time to break out the Misfits records.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1510",
image: "LongYear151.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear151.jpg",
title: "Leafy Tentacles",
caption1: "I am glad that the vast majority of plants aren't ambulatory or predatory. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1520",
image: "LongYear152.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear152.jpg",
title: "Along Came a Spider 1",
caption1: "This beast has been lurking in the corner of the studio for several weeks. I've let him stay because he's been eating all the other bugs that have wandered in (a nice studio though it may be, it is still a garage at heart) but he has grown considerably in that time, enough to warrant the attention of the macro lens.
Of course, he vanished shortly after the shoot. Must've know his time left unmolested in the studio was growing short.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1530",
image: "LongYear153.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear153.jpg",
title: "Teeth",
caption1: "I have jars and bottle filled with everything imaginable.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1540",
image: "LongYear154.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear154.jpg",
title: "Rust Monster",
caption1: "Way back when Gary Gygax was writing the very first Monster Manual for Dungeons and Dragons in 1977, he mainly drew on creatures from established fantasy fiction and the mythology of the world as his inspiration. Several monsters, however, were inspired by little cheap plastic dinosaurs.
Or rather, the little plastic beasties the toy manufacturer in Hong Kong tried to pawn off as dinosaurs. One of them was this fellow, who eventually became the classic Rust Monster. The bane of the more martial adventurers, the mere touch of the creature would turn metal to a pile of dust.
Honestly, its hard to imagine this thing as the bane of anything.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1550",
image: "LongYear155.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear155.jpg",
title: "Incoming!",
caption1: "Fire in the hole!",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1560",
image: "LongYear156.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear156.jpg",
title: "Wall",
caption1: "The folks across the street are doing some renovating and they told me they were painting their retaining wall when everything else was finished. So, of course, I had to go out an shoot it while it still looked pretty.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1570",
image: "LongYear157.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear157.jpg",
title: "Back to the Front",
caption1: "The barking of machine gun fire does nothing to me now.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1580",
image: "LongYear158.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear158.jpg",
title: "Hell",
caption1: "If you thought it was all flames and demons, you were wrong.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1590",
image: "LongYear159.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear159.jpg",
title: "Windows",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1600",
image: "LongYear160.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear160.jpg",
title: "Temperature",
caption1: "It's going down.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1610",
image: "LongYear161.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear161.jpg",
title: "In the Room",
caption1: "It took a long time getting to Gloucester this year and the rain made rambling around with the camera a little difficult. Luckily, the room had this lovely lamp.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1620",
image: "LongYear162.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear162.jpg",
title: "Stained Glass",
caption1: "A second day of storms and rough surf, all the reason to stay in and read. There is a bleak beauty to everything up here in the rain, but it is mostly too wet to go out and shoot it. Instead, the dim light through the hotel's stained glass window gives a good sense of the day's atmosphere.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1630",
image: "LongYear163.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear163.jpg",
title: "The Visitor",
caption1: "More rain, so much that this small fellow turned up on the porch of my room. A common milk snake (often mistaken for copperheads), they are usually nocturnal but I imagine the rain upset his sleep. He lurked around for a little bit, then vanished into thin air. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1640",
image: "LongYear164.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear164.jpg",
title: "Gnarled",
caption1: "And still even more rain...",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1650",
image: "LongYear165.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear165.jpg",
title: "Stairs by the Sea",
caption1: "A spiral staircase leading to a second story porch on a house on Bearskin Neck in Rockport.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1660",
image: "LongYear166.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear166.jpg",
title: "The Hearse House",
caption1: "Hearses have to live somewhere, after all.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1670",
image: "LongYear167.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear167.jpg",
title: "Manufactory",
caption1: "The Manufatory out on Rocky Neck. I've been dying to get a decent photo of this place for years, but the best vantage point on land is all away across Gloucester Harbor. I don't have a lens nearly long enough to make that happen. However, the whale watch boats sail right alongside it on their way in and out of the harbor. Lucky for me. And you.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1680",
image: "LongYear168.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear168.jpg",
title: "Road to the Sea",
caption1: "The path down to the rocky coast of Halibut Point.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1690",
image: "LongYear169.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear169.jpg",
title: "Two is a Crowd",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1700",
image: "LongYear170.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear170.jpg",
title: "Pure Milk",
caption1: "The lid of the old milk jar the lady friend picked up in an antique shop in Essex. She has good taste.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1710",
image: "LongYear171.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear171.jpg",
title: "Witch Ball",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1720",
image: "LongYear172.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear172.jpg",
title: "Reef",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1730",
image: "LongYear173.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear173.jpg",
title: "Lux",
caption1: "The eclectic mix of lighting dangling from the ceiling of Cafe Steinhof. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1740",
image: "LongYear174.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear174.jpg",
title: "Flight",
caption1: "Around the corner from the lady friend's place is a rooftop where hundreds of pigeons congregate. The owners must feed them, unless something about it makes for an optimal hang out for pigeons.
Every couple of minutes, they will all suddenly take flight, circle round and land again right where they began.
It's a bit unnerving. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1750",
image: "LongYear175.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear175.jpg",
title: "Hoffa",
caption1: "Conventional wisdom states that the body of Jimmy Hoffa is either in the foundation of Giants Stadium (we will know soon enough, now that it is being torn down!) or sunk somewhere in the New Jersey Meadowlands. If the former is the case, he as plenty of junk on top of him by now.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1760",
image: "LongYear176.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear176.jpg",
title: "Glenn",
caption1: "I like sock monkeys. I like sock monkey skeletons even more.
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1770",
image: "LongYear177.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear177.jpg",
title: "Nature is Standoffish 1",
caption1: "Those spines don't seem friendly.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1780",
image: "LongYear178.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear178.jpg",
title: "Nature is Standoffish 2",
caption1: "Since when are acorn hats covered in spikes?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1790",
image: "LongYear179.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear179.jpg",
title: "Don't Call Me Chief",
caption1: "A vintage plastic Indian found in an antique shop in Essex. He's got a great face and a mean looking knife, but really, did they have to use red plastic? ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1800",
image: "LongYear180.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear180.jpg",
title: "Dead Flowers",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1810",
image: "LongYear181.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear181.jpg",
title: "Dead Leaves",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1820",
image: "LongYear182.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear182.jpg",
title: "The Hall of Mirrors",
caption1: "We took a trip up to Rye Playland. It was the last day of the season and the future of the park, opened in 1928, is up in the air. This could have been the last day of the park's operation.
It was a suitably bleak, rainy day. We were shown around and give a little bit of history which, along with some more photos, will shortly appear on Unwinnable.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1830",
image: "LongYear183.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear183.jpg",
title: "Space Cowboy",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1840",
image: "LongYear184.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear184.jpg",
title: "Whole Grain",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1850",
image: "LongYear185.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear185.jpg",
title: "Along Came a Spider 2",
caption1: "Spiders are quickly becoming a theme this year. They are everywhere. I constantly find new ones in the studio (perhaps I should stop gently shepherding them outside and start mushing them) and I keep walking into webs. It is getting a little annoying.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1860",
image: "LongYear186.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear186.jpg",
title: "The Singing Bowl",
caption1: "Tibetan singing bowls are actually a kind of bell. When tapped, the sides of the bowl vibrate. By running a mallet around the lip of the bowl in a deliberate manner, the vibration can be coaxed into a rather high pitched tone and maintained so long as the motion continues.
It is purported that they serve a meditative purpose, but from experience I know that they drive cats and girlfriends nutty.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1870",
image: "LongYear187.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear187.jpg",
title: "Seltzer",
caption1: "Nothing is funnier than getting sprayed in the face with seltzer water. Actually, I am pretty sure plenty of things are funnier than that.
The nozzles of old school seltzer bottles are pretty cool though.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1880",
image: "LongYear188.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear188.jpg",
title: "The Romanian",
caption1: "I've seen this wooden head, along with its three brothers, sitting in a bowl in an antique shop in Essex, Massachusetts, for years now. I've wanted to buy one in the past, but usually forget to grab one. This year, I finally did.
It must have been some detail work on a long lost piece of furniture, as it is well carved from fine wood. He strikes me as being somewhat of an eastern European cast. If nothing else, his mustache has been struck from the same mold as Vlad Tepes. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1890",
image: "LongYear189.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear189.jpg",
title: "Along Came a Spider 3",
caption1: "Every year, somewhere around my house (though usually near the front door) the biggest and meanest spider takes up residence in an over sized web. I usually spot it in late August and watch it, not without some horror, as it grows bit by bit, rebuilding its web every night, until one day it simply vanishes. I've been naming them Rudolph for as long as I have been conscious of their presence. This is Rudolph the 17th.
If something like this ever appeared inside my house, I am not sure what I would do but it would probably involved crying.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1900",
image: "LongYear190.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear190.jpg",
title: "Kitchen Service",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1910",
image: "LongYear191.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear191.jpg",
title: "Critical Miss",
caption1: "A D20 for September 20th.
Yea, I'm a geek. Sue me. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1920",
image: "LongYear192.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear192.jpg",
title: "Tomato Constellation",
caption1: "The last of the tomatoes from the garden, ripening in the sun. As good as Jersey tomatoes are, however, gourds are cooler. Bring on the fall!",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1930",
image: "LongYear193.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear193.jpg",
title: "Cyclops",
caption1: "From the collection of Shawn Dillon, a cheap rubber monster that, to me, is rather reminiscent of the cyclops in the Ray Harryhausen movie "The 7th Voyage of Sinbad."",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1940",
image: "LongYear194.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear194.jpg",
title: "Pulp Culture",
caption1: "While recently browsing through delicious junk in an antique store in Essex, Massachusetts, I came across a book titled The Secret of Skeleton Island, by Bruce Campbell.
Now, I know what you are thinking, but the man that brought us Ash Williams of Evil Dead and Sam Axe of Burn Notice didn’t write it. However, I would be lying if I said the novelty of seeing his name on the spine of a 1949 mystery wasn’t the reason I bought the book. Bruce Campbell the writer is actually the collective pseudonym of Sam and Beryl Epstein, who wrote eighteen Ken Holt mysteries (of which Skeleton Island is the first) between 1949 and 1963.
They were similar to the mystery series produced by the Stratemeyer Syndicate. Founded in 1905 by Edward Stratemeyer, the syndicate produced hundreds of books for dozens of series during the course of its existence (it was bought and absorbed by Simon and Schuster in 1987), but I only ever read the Hardy Boys and the occasional Nancy Drew. It wasn’t until series like the Ken Holt books popped onto my radar that I began to realize the odd and unique place Stratemeyer books, and those like them, hold in pulp culture.
-From the article 'Pulp Culture' on Unwinnable.com
",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1950",
image: "LongYear195.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear195.jpg",
title: "Beads",
caption1: "I am a man who probably has too many bracelets.
Strangely, nearly every one I've ever owned has suffered from snapped or exhausted elastic. I wonder why that is?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1960",
image: "LongYear196.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear196.jpg",
title: "Brick and Iron",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1970",
image: "LongYear197.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear197.jpg",
title: "Rawr",
caption1: "One of a series of photos depicting monster finger puppets I picked up at a store called Scaredy Kat in Brooklyn.
They're pretty fantastic. It makes me more than a little happy to see that you can still get weird toys that aren't part of a branded mass market intellectual property.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1980",
image: "LongYear198.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear198.jpg",
title: "The Eyes Have It",
caption1: "One of a series of photos depicting monster finger puppets I picked up at a store called Scaredy Kat in Brooklyn.
This weirdo is like the Martian equivalent of a platypus.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "1990",
image: "LongYear199.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear199.jpg",
title: "Bug Eyes",
caption1: "One of a series of photos depicting monster finger puppets I picked up at a store called Scaredy Kat in Brooklyn.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2000",
image: "LongYear200.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear200.jpg",
title: "It's Alive!",
caption1: "One of a series of photos depicting monster finger puppets I picked up at a store called Scaredy Kat in Brooklyn.
From a different series, this zombie looks a lot like Frankenstein's Monster.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2010",
image: "LongYear201.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear201.jpg",
title: "Welcome to my Parlour",
caption1: "The startlingly large web of the startlingly large spider seen previously is catching more rain than bugs today.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2020",
image: "LongYear202.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear202.jpg",
title: "Braaaaains!",
caption1: "One of a series of photos depicting monster finger puppets I picked up at a store called Scaredy Kat in Brooklyn.
The nice thing about zombies? You always know where you stand with them.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2030",
image: "LongYear203.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear203.jpg",
title: "Ahh!",
caption1: "One of a series of photos depicting monster finger puppets I picked up at a store called Scaredy Kat in Brooklyn.
This guy is like a cross between a cockroach and a gorilla. He is my favorite of the bunch. I can't tell if he is in the act of scaring or being scared himself.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2040",
image: "LongYear204.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear204.jpg",
title: "Jack-o'-Lantern",
caption1: "When wood-grapes were purpling and brown nuts were falling!
When wild, ugly faces we carved in its skin,
Glaring out through the dark with a candle within!
-John Greenleaf Whittier, The Pumpkin",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2050",
image: "LongYear205.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear205.jpg",
title: "Shatter",
caption1: "A test for a commission job (more on that when it is finished). I really like broken glass, but this in particular seems to go someplace else, a strange landscape.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2060",
image: "LongYear206.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear206.jpg",
title: "Big Nose",
caption1: "An old tin toy. How come these things are always creepy?",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2070",
image: "LongYear207.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear207.jpg",
title: "Kernels",
caption1: "Indian corn lasts forever. This is from last year. It's like brand new. Perma-corn and pumpkins that last till the spring and yet, I can't keep gourds from rotting. The world is a strange place.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2080",
image: "LongYear208.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear208.jpg",
title: "The Number of Soothing Relief",
caption1: "I bought this in an antique store because, well, come on - how could I not? It is amusing on so many levels I don't even have to write about them.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2090",
image: "LongYear209.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear209.jpg",
title: "Dead Eye",
caption1: "I am an excellent shot.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2100",
image: "LongYear210.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear210.jpg",
title: "Weathering",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2110",
image: "LongYear211.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear211.jpg",
title: "Blazing Autumn",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2120",
image: "LongYear212.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear212.jpg",
title: "Slate",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2130",
image: "LongYear213.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear213.jpg",
title: "The Swan's Way",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2140",
image: "LongYear214.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear214.jpg",
title: "Rusty Teeth",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2150",
image: "LongYear215.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear215.jpg",
title: "Telling Tales",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2160",
image: "LongYear216.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear216.jpg",
title: "The Drum Major",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2170",
image: "LongYear217.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear217.jpg",
title: "Kill Devil",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2180",
image: "LongYear218.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear218.jpg",
title: "The Blue Monkey",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2190",
image: "LongYear219.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear219.jpg",
title: "The Drain",
caption1: "There is a retaining wall down in my favorite cemetery. It is lined with drain holes. They all look like this.
They fill me with a kind of primordial unease.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2200",
image: "LongYear220.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear220.jpg",
title: "Empty Eyes",
caption1: "An old, paper-mache Jack-o'-Lantern from the forties. Everything was creepier in the forties. ",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2210",
image: "LongYear221.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear221.jpg",
title: "Masquerade",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2220",
image: "LongYear222.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear222.jpg",
title: "God of the Witches",
caption1: "Baphomet, as envisioned by Eliphas Levi, is a classic image of the occult. It is the god of the witches, a creature supposedly adored by the Knights Templar, a favorite of faux-devil worshiping teenagers and rock bands and a resident of the shelf above my desk.",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2230",
image: "LongYear223.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear223.jpg",
title: "Black Cat",
caption1: "Black cat,
Black cat,
Looking for a witch",
caption2: "",
};
slideshow[slideshow.length] = {
order: "2240",
image: "LongYear224.jpg",
thumb: "LongYear224.jpg",
title: "Jack-o'-Lantern",
caption1: "",
caption2: "",
};
//--END_PHP_INSERT------------------------------- END PORTFOLIO GALLERY ITEMS -------------------------------------
//
//
//
// ----------------- DO NOT EDIT BELOW THIS LINE --------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// **************************************************************************
// **************************************************************************
// ******************** SET YOUR IMAGE FILENAMES ABOVE **********************
// **************************************************************************
// **************************************************************************
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// --------------------------------------------------------------------------
// ----------------- DO NOT EDIT BELOW THIS LINE --------------------------
// ******************************************************************************
// ************* SS SETTINGS ****************************************************
// ******************************************************************************
//----------- SETUP -----------
var ss_layout = 'xFade'; // Options are 'xFade' for cross-fading images OR 'hScroll' for horizontal row of images
var ss_layout_mode = 'static'; // Options are 'flex' or 'static'. Note: your CSS will determine container layout. This will reposition imgs on window resize if mode is 'flex'.
var ss_fade_max = 1; // full opacity = 1. -- 99% opacity would be 0.99
var ss_fade_min = 0.5; // hidden opacity = 0. -- script will always use 0 if ss_layout is 'xFade' - to disable fading on hScroll layouts, set to 1.
//----------- MAIN CONTAINERS -----------
var ss_image_cntr_id = 'ss_cntr';
var ss_thumb_cntr_id = 'main_thms_cntr';
var glass_cntr = 'glass_cntr';
//var ss_info_id = 'ss_info_cntr';
var nav_nums_type = 'img'; // [str] 'txt'|'img' - if 'txt', navnums will be text and use nav_nums_separator (ex: 1 / 25) - if 'img', images 0.gif, 1.gif, etc will be used (digits 0-9)
var ss_nav_nums_cntr_id = 'nav_nums_cntr';
var nav_nums_separator = ' / ';
var ss_title_cntr_id = 'title_cntr'; //leave blank for no titles
//--------- CONTAINERS OPTIONS ----------
var use_loading_gif = true;
var navNums_linkFading = true; // Set to true to have (visible) nav nums fade along with the image
var titles_linkFading = true; // Set to true to have (visible) titles fade along with the image
var captions_linkFading = true; // Set to true to have (visible) captions fade along with the image
var overlayInfo = true;// set to true to overlay image info on the image. use following settings to add title, caption, etc
var overlayInfoPos = 'image';// [str] 'image'|'full' - 'image' sets the title container to constrain to the current image's w/h and the title's position will be relative to the
// image. 'full' sets to the full width of ss_cntr and the title cntr will be relative to the full ss cntr. title appearance/positioning is set in gallery CSS.
var overlayInfoMaxW = false; // [int]|FALSE - max width in pixels of info overlay container (when overlayInfoPos is 'image'). false means overlay will be full image width;
var overlayInfoAlign = 'right';// [str] 'left'|right' - aligns the info cntr if width is shorter than image's width
var overlayShowEmpty = true; // true will show the info overlay even when there's no text to display (i.e. no titles, cpations)
var overlayInfoTrigger = '#ss_overlay_btn'; // jQuery list of container(s) which will show/hide overlay on mouseover/out
var overlayTitle = true;// set to true to overlay the title on the image. when set to true, title_cntr can be anywhere in the HTML. position via CSS. set display:none.
var overlayTitlePos = 'image';// [str] 'image'|'full' - 'image' sets the title container to constrain to the current image's w/h and the title's position will be relative to the
// image. 'full' sets to the full width of ss_cntr and the title cntr will be relative to the full ss cntr. title appearance/positioning is set in gallery CSS.
var overlayTitleVPos = 'top';// [str] top|bottom
var overlayTitleMaxW = false; // [int]|FALSE - max width in pixels of info overlay container (when overlayInfoPos is 'image'). false means overlay will be full image width;
var overlayTitleAlign = 'right';// [str] 'left'|right' - aligns the info cntr if width is shorter than image's width
var overlayTitleShowEmpty = false; // true will show the info overlay even when there's no text to display
var overlayCaptions = true;
var overlayCaptionsPos = 'image';// [str] 'image'|'full' - 'image' sets the captions container to constrain to the current image's w/h and the Captions's position will be relative to the
// image. 'full' sets to the full width of ss_cntr and the captions cntr will be relative to the full ss cntr. captions appearance/positioning is set in gallery CSS.
var overlayCaptionsVPos = 'bottom';// [str] top|bottom
var overlayCaptionsMaxW = false; // [int]|FALSE - max width in pixels of info overlay container (when overlayInfoPos is 'image'). false means overlay will be full image width;
var overlayCaptionsAlign = 'right';// [str] 'left'|right' - aligns the info cntr if width is shorter than image's width
var overlayCaptionsShowEmpty = false; // true will show the info overlay even when there's no text to display
var overlayNav = false; // set to true to overlay the next/back navigation arrows on the image. arrow containers can be anywhere in the HTML. position via CSS. set display:none.
var overlayNavPos = 'css' // [str] auto|css - if 'auto' nav overlays will be 100% height and info_cntr will be adjusted to not overlap automatically. if 'css' gallery.css controls nav/nav bg positioning.
//---------------------------------------
// captions are in 2 parts, particularly useful with quotes that have a person attributed
// NOTE: Of the following three options, choose either the first or both the second and third
// * If ss_captions_cntr is used, caption part one and two will be put in this container
// * If both caption1 and caption2_cntr_id are used, caption parts will be displayed in separate containers.
//*********** ONLY USE ss_captions_cntr_id !!! ***********
var ss_captions_cntr_id = 'captions_cntr'; //leave blank for no captions
var caption1Pre = ""; // some HTML or not. leave
tag
var caption1App = "
"; // some HTML or leave blank
var caption2Pre = ""; // some HTML or not. leave
tag
var caption2App = "
"; // some HTML or leave blank
var captions_linkFading = true; // Set to true to have (visible) captions fade along with the image
//---------------------------------------
//***********************************************************************************************************
//---------- BEHAVIOR SETTINGS ----------
var ss_autorun = false; // Set to true if this is an auto-run slideshow.
var ss_interval = 3000; // milliseconds between image transitions (on auto-run slideshows)
var ss_fade_duration = 750; // milliseconds that it will take for the fade to complete (larger number = slower fade)
var ss_resume_interval = null; //null OR milliseconds until the slideshow will start itself if left idle (paused).
var randomizeOrder = false; // Set to true to randomize the order of the images in this slideshow.
var reverseOrder = true; // Set to true to reverse the order of the slideshow. If nav_nums_type is 'img', then this setting will also reverse the numbers displayed.
//---------------------------------------
var glass_nav = true; // Set to true if you want to click the image overlay to advance the slideshow.
var glass_act = 'nav'; // 'pause'|'nav' - determines the click action of the glass cntr
var glass_position = 'image'; // 'image'|'full' - set to 'image' to have glass clickable area match image size, 'full' to have glass cover ss cntr
var showImgsTitleAtt = false; // set to true to show navnums as the glass_cntr's attribute
//---------------------------------------
var img_v_position = 'middle'; //options are 'top' OR 'middle' OR 'bottom' for vertical position. Leave blank '' to let HTML/CSS pos the imgs.
var img_h_position = 'center'; //options are 'left' OR 'center' OR 'right' for horizontal position. Leave blank '' to let HTML/CSS pos the imgs.
//NOTE: Both imgFit and imgGrow (below) will maintain image aspect ratio and fit the images based on that. Meant to be used either/or.
var imgFit = true; //set to true to force large images to fit in the ss cntr. Note: false will allow large images to break the layout.
var imgGrow = false;//set to true to force small images to grow to the size of the ss cntr. images too large to begin with will be resized to fit, even if imgFit is false.
var imgWmax = false;// [int]|FALSE - when imageGrow is true, set this to the maximum width you want the images to grow to, even if the ss cntr is wider. (esp useful oh hScroll layouts).
var imgWpad = 0;// [int] - number of px to 'pad' current img when ss layout is hScroll/flex and h position is center. (allows imgWmax to be smaller when ss cntr flexes down to imgWmax
var imgHpad = 0;// [int] - see above, but for height
//---------------------------------------
var video_autoplay = false; //set to true to have videos in the slideshow autoplay when they load.
var video_autoplay_delay = 2000; // [int] - milliseconds until video starts playing (so the visitor has time see the preview image). to start playback immediately, set to 0
var vidControlsHeight = 32; // [int] - pixels - this is to offset the info div, so it will appear over the video part of the player, but not cover the controls toolbar
//---------------------------------------
var showThmsTitleAtt = true; // set to true to show navnums as the thumbnail's title attribute
var thms_behavior = 'scrolly'; // 'over_fade' for a thumbs cntr that disappears OR 'scrolly' for scrollable thumbs in a v or h line
var hideScrollArrows = true; // set to true to hide the left/right scroll nav arrows when the beg/end is reached. NOTE: ignored when rewindThumbs or loopThumbs is true
//LOOPING OF SCROLLING THUMBS ONY WORKS WHEN THE VISITOR IS HOLDING THE RIGHT THM ARROW DOWN.
var loopThumbs = false; // set to true to have the thumbs jump back to the other side, giving the appearance of looping. NOTE: ignored when rewindThumbs is true
var thm_loop_delay = 10; // [int] amount to delay before jumping to the beg/end of thumbs - NOTE: a value of 30 is equal to about 1 second delay. set to 0 for immediate looping. values below 5 may cause unexpected behavior when thms are autoscrolling...
/*
//var loopResumeDelay = 250; // milliseconds to delay before resuming scrolling after jumping to the beg/end of thumbs
//REWINDING OF SCROLLING THUMBS IS NOT AVAILABLE. WILL BE IN A FUTURE REVISION.
var rewindThumbs = true; // set to true to have the thumbs autoscroll back to the beginning when the user reaches the end of the scrollable thumbs
var rewindDelay = 500; // milliseconds delay before rewinding the thumbs (gives the user a chance to let up on the mouse to stay at first/last thumb
*/
//---------------------------------------
var thms_linkFading = true; // Set to true to have (visible) thumbs fade along with the image OR false for hidden thumbs
var thms_minOpacity = 0.50; // set to the opacity value you want the thumbs to stop at when fading out. (The active thumb always fades up to 1)
//-------- PAYPAL FORM OPTIONS ----------
//***** retain_choices MUST BE SET TO FALSE!
var retain_choices = false; // DO NOT CHANGE THIS SETTING! // Set to true to retain the user's option list choices as they navigate the slideshow, false to reset option lists on viewing each product
var hide_form_on_nav = true; // Set to true to hide the form when the visitor navigates the slideshow, false to leave form showing
var show_form_on_return = false; // Set to true to keep the purchase form displayed when the customer returns from the paypal site via the 'continue shopping' button
slideshow.options_0 = 'SELECT AN OPTION 1';
slideshow.options_1 = 'SELECT AN OPTION 2';
//***********************************************************************************************************
//---------- SCROLLBAR SETTINGS ----------
if ((ss_thumb_cntr_id) && (thms_behavior === 'scrolly')) {
var global_scroll_settings = {};
// If thms_behavior is set to 'scrolly', apply these settings to the scrolling container & scrollbar
global_scroll_settings.scrollPaneThms = {
scrollPaneId: 'scrollPaneThms',
scrollbarHeight: 0, // the width of the created scrollbar in pixels (defaults to 10)
scrollbarMargin: 0, // [int] - the margin to leave to the left of the scrollbar in pixels (defaults to 5)
//wheelSpeed [int] - controls how fast the mouse wheel makes the content scroll in pixels (defaults to 18)
showArrows: false, // controls whether to display little arrows by the scrollbar for the user to scroll with (defaults to false) -loads slow...
//arrowSize: 10, // the width of the arrow buttons if showArrows=true (calculated from CSS if not provided)
useExternalArrows: true, // [boolean] - to use a pair of images (#tArwL_img, #tArwR_img
animateTo: true,//(useAnimateTo)?true:false, // whether to animate when calling scrollTo and scrollBy (defaults to false)
dragMinWidth: 140, // [int] - the minimum height to allow the drag bar to be (defaults to 0)
dragMaxWidth: 240, // [int] - the maximum height to allow the drag bar to be (defaults to 99999!)
animateInterval: 100, // [int] - The interval in milliseconds to update an animating scrollPane (default 100)
animateStep: 5, // [int] The amount to divide the remaining scroll distance by when animating (default 3)
maintainPosition: true, //[boolean] - Whether you want the contents of the scroll pane to maintain it's position when you re-initialise it -
// - so it doesn't scroll as you add more content (default true)
resize: false, // - Whether or not to have resizing turned on or not.
minimumWidth: 20, // - The minimum width to allow the jScrollHorizontalPane to be resized to. Only effective when resize is on.
loadingText: '', // [str] - text to display in the scroll bar. control style in CSS. defaults to ''
reset: true // - When set to 'true' all the global properties will be reset. This is useful for dynamic refreshes on the page.
};
function hScrollThmsInit() {
$('#main_thms_cntr').jScrollHorizontalPane(global_scroll_settings.scrollPaneThms);
//$("#thms_nav_cntr > .jScrollPaneContainer").attr({id:'scrollPaneThms'});
}
}
if (ss_layout === 'hScroll') {
global_scroll_settings.scrollPaneImgs = {
scrollPaneId: 'scrollPaneImgs',
scrollbarHeight: 12, // the width of the created scrollbar in pixels (defaults to 10)
scrollbarMargin: 25, // [int] - the margin to leave to the left of the scrollbar in pixels (defaults to 5)
//wheelSpeed [int] - controls how fast the mouse wheel makes the content scroll in pixels (defaults to 18)
showArrows: true, // controls whether to display little arrows by the scrollbar for the user to scroll with (defaults to false) -loads slow...
arrowSize: 42, // the width of the arrow buttons if showArrows=true (calculated from CSS if not provided)
useExternalArrows: false, // [boolean] - to use a pair of images (#tArwL_img, #tArwR_img
animateTo: true,//(useAnimateTo)?true:false, // whether to animate when calling scrollTo and scrollBy (defaults to false)
dragMinWidth: 320, // [int] - the minimum height to allow the drag bar to be (defaults to 0)
dragMaxWidth: 600, // [int] - the maximum height to allow the drag bar to be (defaults to 99999!)
animateInterval: 100, // [int] - The interval in milliseconds to update an animating scrollPane (default 100)
animateStep: 5, // [int] - The amount to divide the remaining scroll distance by when animating (default 3)
maintainPosition: false , // [boolean] - Whether you want the contents of the scroll pane to maintain it's position when you re-initialise it -
// - so it doesn't scroll as you add more content (default true)
resize: true, // - Whether or not to have resizing turned on or not.
minimumWidth: 20, // - The minimum width to allow the jScrollHorizontalPane to be resized to. Only effective when resize is on.
loadingText: 'loading images...', // [str] - text to display in the scroll bar. control style in CSS
reset: true // - When set to 'true' all the global properties will be reset. This is useful for dynamic refreshes on the page.
};
function hScrollImgsInit() {
$('#main_imgs_cntr').jScrollHorizontalPane(global_scroll_settings.scrollPaneImgs);
if (q.r) { img_scroll_TO = setTimeout(function(){scrollImgs(current,true);},1500); }
//$("#ss_cntr > .jScrollPaneContainer").attr({id:'scrollPaneImgs'});
}
}
//***********************************************************************************************************
//-------- VIDEO PLAYER SETTINGS ---------
/****
***** NOTE: These characters must be encoded if they are to be used in the flashvars below:
***** ? -> %3F
***** = -> %3D
***** & -> %26
****/
var vload_gif = 'shw_lib/mediaplayer/loa/der.gif';
var flashvars={},
params={},
attributes={},
initv = { type: 'video',
file: (rootPath + 'shw_lib/mediaplayer/loa/der.flv'),
image: (rootPath + vload_gif)
};
function createPlayer(num, v_file, v_img, v_type) {
/** SEE http://developer.longtailvideo.com/trac/wiki/Player5FlashVars for a complete list of flashvars and thier values **/
flashvars = {
type: initv.type,//((v_type) ? v_type : initv.type),
file: initv.file,//((v_file) ? (slideshow.videoDir + v_file) : initv.file),
image: initv.image,//((v_img) ? (slideshow.imageDir + v_img) : initv.image), //NOTE: You might want to disable if autoplay (above) is set to true.
skin: rootPath + 'shw_lib/mediaplayer/skin/' + 'schoon.swf', //just change the xxxx.swf part.
menu: 'true',
icons: 'true', // NOT WORKING (icons still show when set to 'false'). expect fix in JW 5.1
controlbar: 'bottom', // bottom|over|none
dock: 'false', // shows up when true and there's a plugin using it (like share)
//provider: v_type,
bufferlength: '1',
autostart: 'false', // ALWAYS SET TO false!! set video_autoplay in the main section at top of this file
repeat: 'none', // none|list|always|single
smoothing: 'false', // Set to false for better performace!
stretching: 'uniform', // uniform|none|exactfit|fill
volume: '50', // 0-100
backcolor: '#FFF', // comment out when using facebookit or tweetit plugins!
screencolor: '#FFF',
frontcolor: '#666',
lightcolor: '#AAA',
linktarget: '_blank',
link: (num ? (rootPath + slideshow.portfolioDir +'?r='+num) : ''),
plugins: 'sharing-1',
width: '1000',
playerready: 'playerReady'
};
/** SEE http://code.google.com/p/swfobject/wiki/documentation for a complete list of params and their values. Attribute info is there as well. **/
params = {
bgcolor: '#FFF',
menu: 'true',
allowfullscreen: 'true',
allowscriptaccess: 'always',
allownetworking: 'all',
wmode: 'opaque'
};
attributes = {
id: 'vplayer',
name: 'vplayer'
};
swfobject.embedSWF(rootPath+'shw_lib/mediaplayer/player-viral.swf', 'tmpvid_cntr', '100%', '100%', '9.0.115', rootPath+'shw_lib/swfobject/expressInstall.swf', flashvars, params, attributes);
}
//--------END VIDEO PLAYER SETTINGS ---------
function addListeners() {
if (player) {
player.addModelListener("STATE", "stateListener");
player.addModelListener('LOADED', 'medialoadedListener');
} else {
setTimeout(function(){addListeners();},100);
}
}
function playerReady(thePlayer) {
player = document.getElementById(thePlayer.id);
addListeners();
// printConfig();
}
/**************************************************************************************/
////DEBUG
//function printConfig() {
// if (player) {
// var cfg = player.getConfig();
// var txt = '';
// for(var itm in cfg) {
// txt += ''+itm+': '+cfg[itm]+'';
// }
//
// $("#DEBUG1").css({display:'block',visibility:'visible'}).html(txt);
// }
//}
/****************************************************************************************/
var curPlayerState = "NONE";
var prevPlayerState = "NONE";
function stateListener(obj) { //IDLE, BUFFERING, PLAYING, PAUSED, COMPLETED
curPlayerState = obj.newstate;
prevPlayerState = obj.oldstate;
if ((curPlayerState == "BUFFERING") || (curPlayerState == 'PLAYING')) {
ssPause(0, true);
}
// if (curPlayerState == 'PAUSED') {
// alert('PAUSED');
// }
if (curPlayerState == "COMPLETED") { //alert('video COMPLETED');
if ((ss_resume_interval) || (ss_autorun)) {
if (ssResumeTO) { window.clearTimeout(ssResumeTO); }
ssResumeTO = window.setTimeout(function(){ssResume();}, ss_resume_interval);
}
}
}
if (ss_autorun === true) { var ss_autorun_start = 5000; } else { var ss_autorun_start = null; }
function medialoadedListener(obj) {
player.sendEvent('PLAY', true);
if ((video_autoplay === false)) {// || ((v_list.file).search(/mediaplayer\/loa\/der\./) > 0)) {
//player.sendEvent('STOP');
player.sendEvent('PLAY', false); //pause
if (ss_autorun_start) {
if (ssResumeTO) { window.clearTimeout(ssResumeTO); }
ssResumeTO = window.setTimeout(function(){ssResume();}, ss_interval+ss_fade_duration+ss_autorun_start);
ss_autorun_start = null;
}
if (ss_resume_interval) {
if (ssResumeTO) { window.clearTimeout(ssResumeTO); }
ssResumeTO = window.setTimeout(function(){ssResume();}, ss_resume_interval);
}
}
}
// -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ssn = slideshow.length;
slideshow.portfolioDir = (window.location.toString()).replace(rootPath, '');
var default_dir = slideshow.portfolioDir.match(/[aA-zZ0-9_-]+\/[aA-zZ0-9_-]+\//);
if (!default_dir) { default_dir = slideshow.portfolioDir.match(/[aA-zZ0-9_-]+\//); }
slideshow.portfolioDir = default_dir;
slideshow.imageDir = rootPath + slideshow.portfolioDir + 'images/';
slideshow.videoDir = rootPath + slideshow.portfolioDir + 'videos/';
slideshow.thumbDir = rootPath + slideshow.portfolioDir + 'thumbs/';
//auto-poplulate thumb filenames when left blank. image filename will be used.
for (i = 0; i < slideshow.length; i++) {
if (slideshow[i].thumb === "") {
slideshow[i].thumb = slideshow[i].image;
}
}