Nealmeister

A Month Back (and Charlestown Shots)

While on the bus this morning, I thought of two things:
(1) it's been a month since I've been back blogging, and gosh, it does feel good, because the frustrated writer inside of me -- the frustrated, creative person inside of me -- really loves to do this;
(2) I forgot how great it feels to find a photographer that you like, because the frustrated photographer inside of me -- the frustrated, creative person inside of me -- really loves to be surprised by surprising interesting photographs.

 

What it means, I think, is that I need to write some more and I need to shoot photographs again.  And I need to write a note to a certain woman and her husband and child at the University of Utah, via Longmont, Colorado.  I need to _______.

[Photos via Alex Ward shot in Charlestown, Massachusetts]

The Library of Congress Flickr Pilot

Trucks outside of a starch factory, Caribou, Aroostook County, Me. There were almost fifty trucks in the line. Some had been waiting for twenty-four hours for the potatoes to be graded and weighed (LOC)

Grand Grocery, Lincoln, Nebraska.

Who knew?  Now, you have an opportunity to contribute to describing the world’s public photo collection by adding tags or leaving comments on the 3100 or so photos from the Library of Congress. No known copyright restrictions on the photographs, the LOC’s use of Flickr is a brilliant idea.  And it's absolutely amazing seeing the 1930s-40s in color.  I just always think it happened in burnt sepia or black and white.

 Library of Congress Flickr pilot

In re: Relaxing

I'm just a is just a lazy, idle, lemon-poppy-seed muffin lovin' iripino today.  I could really use some warm weather and surfing right now and just hanging out for about 10 days or so.  Awhhhh (relaxed, refreshing awhhhh).

Via EfrankE on Flicker

Moving, Lonergan, and Seventy-Five Days

An agent through which vital powers are exercised.

Fall is finally becoming fall in Boston, in November.  Crisp and cool, just the way November should be.  I always thought that this type of fall weather lends itself to the nostalgia that replays inside my mind and supports the frustrated writer that lingers inside of me.  That's what I thought about when I was walking up Walker Street after I got off the bus this evening.  I was thinking about how much I really love my street, and how cool but strikingly red the fireball glowed from the utility pole at the top of my street, and how much I really loved what I do--even though I bitch and complain about it at times.  It's that new slug of a slog that I have to fight out and figure out.  I could quit.  But I love the playing field.

Beneath that fireball, though, I bumped upon Todd and Meg's U-Haul.  Todd and Dan were in it, amid all of the Todd and Meg's life that was getting squeezed into a 17-foot U-Haul.  Now, I always get really funny with change, especially moving.  I play things off like I'll see someone tomorrow.  I try to keep things "normal."  I laugh a bit and [/MESSAGE CLIPPED/]

Fast Forward Rewind: Summer 2007

[Gate at Nate & Sue's Family Cottage, Little Compton, RI]

It is really hard to believe that Summer 2007 has nearly half-way completed.  I'd like to think that I'm a glass is half-full guy, but this summer, I'm thinking that more than half of the things that I wanted to do won't happen.  The second rafting trip up in Maine has already fallen through; trips to Hampton Beach or surfing at Salisbury or beach bumming on Plum Island have been talked about; and my sister and Chris are moving to Ohio next week. 
One thing is for certain, though: for the times that I have been able to enjoy the summer and everything it's got to offer, the times have been high-flying and wicked neat.  Jackman 2007 was full of hits.  Having Hillary and Travis come out from Illinois and Ohio -- only to partake in scorpion bowls, amble about Perkins Cove in Ogunquit, and ride the rides at Canobie Lake (all those pics I really do have to upload soon).

Nothing, though, kicked things off better than heading down to Little Compton for what's becoming an annual trek to Rhode Island.  Sue finally posted her pictures.  Now, I can quasi-relive inside jokes of "that's what she said" or nostalgize about my constant napping.

What's cool about Rhode Island, though, is that it's got everything you'd expect in Maine, plus a tinge of what you'd expect in the Carolinas.  I guess that's uniquely Rhode Island.... and now, I'll let the pictures say the rest.

Some hosts are great.  Others are awesome.  But these guys are wicked awesome!  Plus, they're photogenic, as evidenced by yet another glamour shot down in Sakonnet Point.

Peace and tranquility.  Little Compton Harbor.  You'd never guess, though, that it was an abnormally chilly Memorial Day weekend...

They still got it in them.  Able to walk without blackberries.  Able to laugh at wicked stupid jokes.  Able to not stare at the camera during ST's candid shots.... well, some of us like to smirk a bit!

Or, in realizing that you're from Maine, perfect your ability to have your eyes shut when the camera lady's saying "the sky is perfect.  Don't blink on me!"  Oh well.  I guess this makes the picture a bit more memorable...

I'm beginning to realize, more and more in these contemplative pictures that involve one of my 27 hoodies and one of their 27 pairs of sunglasses, that (a) I really like my hoodies, and (b) I really need to get contacts so that I can finally wear sunglasses.

And, oh yeah, as time goes on, I'm realizing that I look less and less like my mom, and more and more like my dad.  Wow.

Cut-out Neal

Well, I was playing with photoshop for a few minutes... I decided that I need to play with photoshop a bit more.

Look at that smile!

BarBri is Done!

Don't know why this was still in draft, 10 months after the fact.  I mean, the original posting date (in draft) is 12-JUL-2006.  And it wasn't even a real post...  just a picture of the Suffolk-AM crowd, minus Mr. Murphy of course.

But we can let nostalgia continue, I guess, for it brings visions of hope for the law school/barbri class of 2007.  Kids, there is hope.  Just wait until August...

Hope: Photography

This thing reminded me the days when I used to go around shooting in Black and White, then go developing at the dark room at the Charlestown Boys' and Girls Club...

“Once a corporate lawyer, now a photographer, Chris Jordan captures the artifacts of consumption on a scale we’ve never seen before. In his series ‘Intolerable Beauty,’ Jordan reveals large-scale shots of discarded items—cigarette butts, gas cylinders, cell phones, crushed automobiles—with breathtaking effect. Following the Gulf Coast’s devastating hurricane season in 2005, Jordan presented ‘In Katrina’s Wake,’ an exploration of the surprising ways a disaster transforms the things we take for granted. And more recently, Jordan embarked on a new series of digital art that takes every-day objects and literally runs the numbers: portraits of the 426,000 cell phones we throw away every day, the 1.14 million brown paper bags we use every hour, the 15 million sheets of paper we churn through every five minutes. If it’s true that many—if not most—Americans tend to identify with the stuff we own and use, artists like Chris Jordan help us see ourselves from a different and telling perspective.” (via Yahoo Picks)

Perhaps, if I just keep on being a corporate attorney, I'll just eventually get to being a photographer again...

One Month Later

Well, Jess kindly informed me that it's been a month since I've last blogged.  I've been meaning to, I swear.  But somewhere between friends moving, and work, and Easter, and just being tired, I've only been able to draft what I've been feeling and thinking.  All of those squibs, and nothing that has been presentable.  Indeed, I think If I had posted all of the stuff that I've written between Quiznos and now, people might think it's all one inside joke.

Then again, some people think this IS one big inside joke.  Maybe, the joke's on me!

Needless to say, I will backdate.  In between March 27th and now, I've had some great posts.  The writer's voice inside my head has whispered tones of love, loss, laughter, and nostalgia.  The nostalgia, perhaps, has been the greatest force working inside of me... I notice that happens when I'm under either a lot of stress (think: work) or remembering (think: london).  Hillary and Ys and Crystal, among others, know full well what that means: "Neal descriptions" and the sounds of Sarah McLachlan wafting in the background.

I guess, too, that I felt motivated to write again because there's all these weird new beginnings marked by remembrances of old ends around me now.  Tomorrow, I make the last move out of the bankruptcy corner.  I'd be a liar if I didn't say that it marks a bittersweet feeling in my heart.  I thought that, by now, I'd be over my post 3-13 moments.  But I think I'm still feeling like I'll come back to work and the bankruptcy corner will be intact again.  One can only hope, I guess.  Not that I don't like Private Equity or anything.  I guess really miss Business Finance and Restructuring.  I miss the people, and the bankruptcy code, and having a specialty that is marked by equity and contracts and fairness and finances.  I don't know of many other specialty fields that could bring so many quirky ideas together.  No wonder it (being Bankruptcy) was a fit for me.

So, among other things, here's to the Bankruptcy Corner.  To A.T., C.M., A.C., K.M., and N.B.  And here's to blogging again. 

I owe you guys all of the updates from the past month now...

Little bit o'Quiznos

I am wholly cognizant of the fact that I am in wayyy too many pictures that incriminate me for many a horrible bit of activity.  Going all Julia Stiles (from "Ten Things I Hate about You"), doing wayyyy too many Jäger Bombs or slurping on wayyyy to much Happy Punch. 

But here, this is where we go back to the way things were: ridiculous Neal.  Yeah, it may have been that new neighborhood springing up down by Wellington (Arbor Point or Mystic Point or Station Landing) but that doesn't change anything.  Take note of the bad hair, the ridiculous face, and the lame attempt to be Texan.

Nothing but love, though.

p.s.  Shooter was awesome...