portrait of a teenage, copper-colored cropduster

the champ of brookline village

2010-04-20T19:06:00.002-05:00

Harvard and Aspinwall, Brookline, MA

portrait in brass pig

2009-02-18T13:58:00.001-05:00

(Midway, Utah)

the third policeman cometh

2009-02-18T13:38:00.003-05:00

(Jamaica Plain, MA)

a dream of hostas

2008-06-30T08:18:00.002-05:00

(Jamaica Plain, MA)

graves ave

2008-03-30T15:35:00.002-05:00

(Northampton, MA)

mt. microclimatic

2007-10-07T11:32:00.000-05:00

(Midway, UT)

someone's idea of west

2007-09-28T09:38:00.000-05:00

(Midway, UT)

earth shoe

2007-08-21T07:42:00.000-05:00

(a bit of fake turf in Utah)

on the delights of finding the perfect grapefruit

2007-08-17T10:11:00.000-05:00

(from a photograph found in TX)

interpreting the oil drum

2007-08-08T08:45:00.000-05:00

(Heath Street Station, Jamaica Plain, MA)

fortress boston

2007-07-03T10:02:00.000-05:00

(Tremont St., Boston Common, Boston, MA)

bootleg black sabbath cover

2007-05-04T17:22:00.000-05:00

(The Old Burying Ground, Harvard Square, Mass Ave, Cambridge, MA)

view the holy land from His perspective

2007-03-01T17:29:00.000-05:00

Plan your own visit to Mini Israel!

icc from the mbta

2007-03-01T13:42:00.000-05:00

(Heath Street Station, Heath St. at S. Huntington, Jamaica Plain, MA)

rejected promotional concept for Ozzfest '07

2007-02-09T15:40:00.000-05:00

(Cambridge, MA)
[make your own karaoke flashcards!]

northeastern american gothic

2007-01-19T15:12:00.000-05:00

(Somerville Ave., Somerville, MA)

unscheduled consultation with my spirit animal

2007-01-05T20:28:00.000-05:00

(a sunny little house in Jamaica Plain, MA)

inner city experiments in color diffusion

2007-01-04T17:09:00.000-05:00

(Lexington Ave. at 41st St., NYC)

from the lowliest acorn, straight to these city streets

2006-12-28T02:29:00.000-05:00

(Broadway, Kendall/MIT, Cambridge, MA)

popular pathway takes a powder

2006-12-25T20:52:00.000-05:00

(Mass Ave at Linnean, Cambridge, MA)

the seer of avenue c

2006-12-25T20:46:00.000-05:00

(Ryan's Irish Pub, 2nd Ave, East Village, NYC)
[FYI: seers]

merry, indeed

2006-12-24T11:17:00.000-05:00

(Bukowski Tavern, Inman Square, Cambridge, MA)

our cinematic hero's dramatic moment of disturbing insight

2006-12-23T10:10:00.000-05:00

(The B-Side Lounge, Hampshire St. at Windsor, Cambridge, MA)

establishing shot for any random boston-based television drama

2006-12-23T09:45:00.000-05:00

(Charles River, Boston/Cambridge, MA)

the runaway chew toy

2006-12-22T11:00:00.000-05:00

(Buckner Blvd. at Northwest Hwy, Dallas, TX)

a comparative study in greenness of grasses

2006-12-21T10:15:00.000-05:00

(The Great Lawn, Central Park, NYC)

el pato solitario

2006-12-19T14:35:00.000-05:00

(Jamaica Pond, Jamaica Plain, Boston, MA)

two viciously deflated in holiday slaying!

2006-12-18T16:37:00.000-05:00

(Hampshire St., Cambridge, MA)

estilo life

2006-12-17T14:10:00.000-05:00

(Shay's Pub & Wine Bar, Harvard Square, Cambridge, MA)

bright lights of holiday delights

2006-12-16T20:09:00.000-05:00

(Beacon St., Somerville, MA)

diner(s)

2006-12-14T13:25:00.000-05:00

(Rosebud Diner, Summer St., Davis Square, Somerville, MA)

sacramento street sentry

2006-12-13T18:01:00.000-05:00

(Sacramento St. at Oxford, Cambridge, MA)

stereo jack's takes aim

2006-12-12T13:38:00.000-05:00

(Stero Jack's, Mass Ave, Cambridge, MA)

aberzombie

2006-12-11T14:24:00.000-05:00

(Porter Square, Cambridge, MA)

untouched offering for the office party

2006-12-08T14:47:00.000-05:00

(an office in Cambridge, MA)

composition in calico and stainless steel

2006-12-06T18:09:00.000-05:00

(Jamaica Plain, MA)

the boston area's most popular right angle

2006-12-05T17:45:00.000-05:00

Genpets: for the best-engineered Christmas ever!

2006-12-04T15:34:00.000-05:00

For more, check out Bio-genica and the Genpets line.

thanksgiving fugitive, still at large

2006-12-04T14:54:00.000-05:00

(Cambridge Center, Broadway and Ames St., Cambridge, MA)
[FYI: Mr. Gobbles]

slow march of the domeheads

2006-11-29T16:31:00.000-05:00

(7th Ave., NYC)

oin laundry (now with free dryers)

2006-11-27T14:32:00.000-05:00

(Laundromax, Somerville Ave., Somerville, MA)

beacon beckons

2006-11-22T12:25:00.000-05:00

(Beacon Street Tavern, Beacon St., Brookline, MA)

the hungry semiotician's dilemma

2006-11-20T11:59:00.000-05:00

(S. Congress, Austin, TX)

through a wheel, darkly

2006-11-17T15:49:00.000-05:00

(Sacramento St., Somerville, MA)

microgeographical formations: lake outsideuniversitywineshop

2006-11-13T18:41:00.000-05:00

(Mass. Ave., Cambridge, MA)

no sleep 'til brooklyn

2006-11-07T15:04:00.000-05:00

(taxi, Lower East Side, NYC)

beacon st. beacon

2006-11-06T18:45:00.000-05:00

(Beacon St. at Kirkland, Somerville, MA)

commanding incandescence

2006-11-03T14:42:00.000-05:00

(Cambridge Common, Cambridge, MA)

it's a bling thing

2006-11-01T16:31:00.000-05:00

(Brigham Circle, Boston, MA)

table, turning

2006-10-30T17:32:00.000-05:00

(Somerville, MA -- photograph by George Restrepo)

so many hairstylists

2006-10-25T15:55:00.000-05:00

(Angie's Hairstyles by Melva and Beverly, S. Congress, Austin, TX)

inexplicable signage: LIRR

2006-10-25T13:52:00.000-05:00

(Hicksville Station, Long Island, NY)

This isn't an example of my keen photographic sensibilities. Rather, it's a plea for someone to help make some sense of the message on this sign. This sad little advertisement rests in a dim stairwell off the Long Island Railroad platform at Hicksville, and there's reason to believe no one much cares about it. Why? Well, when did you ever see Vaio trotting out this particular ad campaign? Aren't those guys trying to sell computers or something? Does Sony know about this misguided and mysterious sign? Seriously, what the hell? Is it perhaps just taunting those of us in the Western countries with our unappreciated abundance? And if so, does that kind of cheekiness really work to sell laptops? Even as our laps disappear behind swelling guts?

the jolly roger of jamaica plain

2006-10-23T14:10:00.000-05:00

(Brigham Circle, Boston, MA)

the beckoning glow of big-city lights

2006-10-18T17:21:00.000-05:00

(Eighth Ave below 13th, NYC)

arrangement in Starburst colors with toys and toddler

2006-10-17T16:00:00.000-05:00

(Guilford, CT)

la sol

2006-10-16T16:46:00.000-05:00

(in the middle of the Charles River, Bostonish, MA)

smoov moves

2006-10-13T16:05:00.000-05:00

(a television in Boston, MA)

spectators' sport

2006-10-11T17:35:00.000-05:00

(Boston, MA)

One of Those Whole "You Can't Go Home Again" Deals

2006-10-10T17:38:00.000-05:00

The main flight attendant for his section of the plane, Vincent discovered, had a buoyant sense of humor.

That’s all I need now, he thought. All he really wanted was an uneventful flying experience. Get settled and buckled, ignore the safety announcements, keep his eyes on his book, get his complimentary snack and beverage, and rest his eyes if he was that lucky.

Now he had an amateur comedian announcing the rundown of basic safety concerns. She wanted everyone to rivet their attention to her litany of bland rules and instructions, and she wasn’t afraid to misuse both her brassy voice and the very concepts of comedy to achieve this. Vincent was now certain that he was being punished for a string of unknown sins.

“In the event of a loss of cabin pressure,” the woman said, “oxygen masks will automatically descend from the panel above your seat. Simply place the mask over your face…” She mimicked the action, putting the yellow section of a sample mask she held close to her mouth and nose. “…adjust the straps…” She pulled at the pale rubber band that hooked onto either side of the mask. “…and pull on the tube to start the flow of oxygen.” She demonstrated, straightening the clear plastic tube in front of her. “Not much of a fashion accessory, but it gets the job done,” she concluded. Many of the passengers chuckled good-naturedly. Vincent made an effort not to mold his expression into more of a scowl than it already appeared.

“Now if you’re assisting someone with a mask, make sure you put on your own mask before putting on theirs,” she continued, smiling broadly at her captive audience. “You’re not going to do them a lot of good if you conk out, now are you?” More polite laughs. Vincent focused on the book he held in his lap and offered a silent plea to heaven to deliver him from this soon. Even if that deliverance necessitated the activation of the emergency oxygen system. At least then the flight attendant would be forced to shut up.

After making jests about seat cushions serving not only as emergency floatation devices but also as excellent stadium pillows, warning that smoking in the restrooms would be caught on hidden webcams, and promising that the beverage service would be delivered that evening by cart, not flung from the ends of the aisles, the routine ground to a conclusion. Vincent realized he had been reading the same sentence for the past two minutes, and closed the book for a few moments to rest.

He felt members of the cabin crew passing by his shoulder as they hurried about their duties. Vincent had recently concluded that they in fact had no real duties, apart from the little speeches and the bartending. All the hurrying, he believed, was just filler. Busywork. Justification for their salaries. Oh, wait. They also closed the overhead bins and fetched the occasional pillow. Still, Vincent thought he might prefer it if they’d just sit down and relax.

In the bag tucked under the seat in front of him, Vincent had a variety of reading materials, but the one that most obsessed him even though he hadn’t read through it in over a week was a tight stack of letters written in a familiar loopy scrawl. These were the dispatches he’d received from Pancakes over the past year or so, scattershot details that she dashed off every so often. They were always impressionistic. Pancakes didn’t much enjoy composing formal letters, but she frequently felt a desire to jot down ideas and stray thoughts for an hour or so, and then she scrawled out a quick salutation and signature and proclaimed these as letters. Most of these went to Pastina, but when they didn’t go to her, they went to Vincent or to Pancakes’s father, Emiliano.

Despite the fact that her letters rarely had much more than a general mood or theme, the trend of those he’d received over the previous dozen months was unmistakable. As rare and as unlikely as it seemed to those who knew her best, Pancakes was in love. Vincent could almost feel himself sneer as the phrase floated through his head.

Pancakes was in love. Vincent felt cheated by it, even though he thought he’d put the idea of her ever being in love with him out of his mind years ago. But then this new guy had come along, this guy Claude, and it was as if all the years he’d spent dutifully being Pancakes’s platonic friend faded in a few moments. He was jealous and he was obsessed. And he still had to go and be just her friend. He considered ordering a cocktail when the time came, but he knew it would probably just make him sick at this point. His stomach hurt already.

Vincent remembered one particular line from Pancakes’s letter back in September. It wasn’t that details about Claude flooded out at him. They didn’t, actually. Claude was mentioned only twice. But the whole personality of that letter stood in sharp contrast to the usual Pancakes Dunst missive. The tone was, Vincent realized a few weeks after reading it (after reading it, in fact, fourteen times) completely unexasperated. That, he concluded, was shockingly new for Pancakes.

Not that she sounded content. If she had, Vincent would have called immediately to ask Pastina exactly when their friend had been kidnapped and replaced with an alien drone. Instead she mentioned feeling “idiotically optimistic, and totally ashamed of it.” She called Pastina “painfully hell-bent on having good intentions even while considering what it might feel like to strangle me.” She even suggested that her mother “almost sounded like she was thinking of talking sense for a change.”

Something had most decidedly come over Pancakes. And right now, Vincent imagined, that something was looking forward to ringing in the new year with her. Unless something happened in the next few hours to make the flight attendant’s emergency warnings suddenly pertinent, Vincent would soon arrive at his destination so he could pretend to be happy for them.

subject-verb agreement: the Trinity edition

2006-10-10T14:39:00.000-05:00

(Harvard St. at Pine, Cambridge, MA)

central: the least square of the squares

2006-10-06T16:23:00.000-05:00

(The Cantab Lounge, Central Square, Cambridge, MA)

illumination only ever appears from behind us

2006-10-02T18:01:00.000-05:00

(Cambridge, MA)

the daughters of "the yellow wallpaper"

2006-10-01T18:23:00.000-05:00

(Austin, TX)

appreciating your patronage

2006-09-29T14:54:00.000-05:00

(Elm St. at Porter Square, Somerville, MA)

miracle or mishap?

2006-09-27T15:12:00.000-05:00

(Kendall/MIT station, MBTA, Cambridge, MA)

a remembrance of drinks past

2006-09-25T16:25:00.000-05:00

(Dillon's, Boylston St., Boston, MA)

happy hour: the prequel

2006-09-21T10:56:00.000-05:00

(The B-Side, Hampshire St. at Windsor, Cambridge, MA)

origami incantation circle

2006-09-17T18:14:00.000-05:00

(SOWA Building, Harrison St., Boston, MA)

camera v. camera

2006-09-12T18:26:00.000-05:00

(Brookline, MA)

sex street tail market

2006-09-10T12:25:00.000-05:00

(southbound cab, Essex St., NYC)

pretty

2006-09-09T14:35:00.000-05:00

(Union Square, NYC)

the devil takes a drag

2006-09-08T19:45:00.000-05:00

(West Dennis, Cape Cod, MA)

the very essence of rock 'n' roll

2006-09-08T18:09:00.000-05:00

(Boston, MA)

elegy on the rites of spring

2006-09-06T17:28:00.000-05:00

(Cambridge, MA -- months ago)

better safe than sorry

2006-08-27T14:06:00.000-05:00

(NYC)

The Introspective Adventures of Pancakes Dunst!

2006-08-26T16:20:00.000-05:00

#26

Paging Luigi Pirandello!

Just who is Pancakes Dunst? That’s what Pancakes Dunst wants to know. On a holiday retreat at an experimental theater workshop, the cleverest girl in the world comes face to face with her greatest foe of all time: her own public persona. How can one girl overcome the collective perception of millions? Her workshop mentor, legendary director Caleb Buono, tells her to look inside herself for motivation. “Your author will tell you what to do,” he insists. But the only thing Pancakes wants to do is get off the stage as soon as she can. “You’re only running away from yourself!” Buono calls to her. Pancakes knows it’s true, but she still can’t stop running. . . .

un paraguas rojo

2006-08-25T16:30:00.000-05:00

(Beacon near Oxford St., Somerville, MA)

a quiet corner away from the others

2006-08-24T17:58:00.000-05:00

(Boston, MA)

Pre-Nup

2006-08-23T22:05:00.000-05:00

The press release from Lorinda St. Genome’s publicist claimed that the dazzling Broadway actress and her children’s book–author fiancé Emiliano Dunst wanted to keep their wedding small. Judging from the crowd that packed St. Bartolome’s Cathedral on Saturday afternoon, “small” as applied to celebrity wedding guest lists has come to mean “no fewer than three hundred.”

At least for all their troubles, their wardrobe extravagances, and their two-and-a-half hours waiting in the pews, the guests were treated not only to a theatrical spectacle of pomp and circumstance, but also to several incidents of high drama and histrionics. At the end of the day, only the wedding’s lack of requiring a ticket for entry quashed the rumors of the event’s being an exercise in experimental theater.

Even before the wedding march resonated throughout the hall from the cathedral’s 150-year-old pipe organ, the venue’s rafters reverberated with noise as the popular Hollywood actor Charles Mongol arrived with a last-minute declaration of love for the bride. One could hardly resist contrasting the similarities between Mongol’s performance on Saturday and his Oscar-nominated turn as Sidney Belew in last year’s Dawn’s Breaking. In the movie, his character’s wedding-day scene features restrained passions and a heartbreaking emotional revelation. Mongol’s real-life attempt at sabotaging his former flame’s wedding, however, was punctuated by poor diction, a profuse flop sweat, and a pitiful, sob-soaked voice that escalated in pitch as often as it did in volume. In addition, as most of the onlookers later agreed, the entire speech “came totally out of the blue. We all thought Charles was far too basic to have feelings that deep and tortured.”

In any event, Mongol himself seemed well convinced of his own complexity that afternoon. Calling to attention the crowd of astonished guests, Mongol delivered an impassioned, occasionally lucid speech that appeared to be fueled as much by alcohol as by romantic convictions. “We’ve shared the stage,” he said at one point. “We’ve shared our lives too. At one time, we did. And I can’t just let her go . . . and be shared with somebody else. No, sirree.”

Those nearest the actor tried to silence him with as little fuss and embarrassment as circumstances allowed, but he waved them off and poured forth an even louder exclamation of his romantic intentions. Within a few minutes, he had the horrified assembly in the thrall of his public address. If he sensed that he faced one of the most hostile audiences of his life--the friends and family of the bride and groom--he gave no indication of it in his performance.

As might be expected from a bride-to-be awaiting her cue, and in particular from the incomparably proper Lorinda St. Genome, the lady in white let Mongol have the scene to himself. Yet soon the groom, his anger visible in his eyes, led his best man and a small army of ushers to confront Mongol. In keeping with his reputation as a well-known child advocate, Emiliano Dunst checked his rage and attempted to reason with Mongol.

The inebriated actor fled at that point, clearly identifying Dunst as the enemy. Drawing, no doubt, on his scant two weeks of stunt training in preparation for the recent remake of The Seven Samurai, Mongol leapt into the pews and attempted to scamper across their seatbacks. But it was not to be. If perhaps Strategic Strike Squad Seven had not wrapped filming more than ten months earlier, Mongol might have retained enough nimbleness and athleticism not to have then collapsed awkwardly into the crowd, fracturing his wrist, splitting his lip, and providing tabloids around the globe with the week’s most obvious headline photos.

return of the land shark

2006-08-23T15:57:00.000-05:00

(Mass. Ave., Porter Square, Cambridge, MA)

silent sentries of newtowne

2006-08-22T17:49:00.000-05:00

(Hampshire St., Cambridge, MA)

deus ex disco ball

2006-08-22T14:58:00.000-05:00

(Boston, MA)

magnetic, prophetic

2006-08-21T18:07:00.000-05:00

(Irving, TX)

the assumption from porter square

2006-08-21T11:24:00.000-05:00

(Porter Square Station, MBTA, Mass. Ave., Cambridge, MA)

somerville julie

2006-08-18T16:49:00.000-05:00

(Julie's Nails, Elm St., Davis Square, Somerville, MA)

fugitive shoes

2006-08-17T17:15:00.000-05:00

(Mass. Ave. at Prospect, Central Square, Cambridge, MA)

Prom Night

2006-08-16T22:11:00.000-05:00

The lights swirled through the living room: across the high ceilings, over the hardwood floors, up the wall yellow walls. Blue, red, and white kept sweeping over the pale moon of Kelly’s face as she reclined against me on the couch. On the love seat on the other side of the room, the colored lights described the contours of Adam and Debra.

I nodded in their direction so Kelly would look their way. The two of them were locked into some precoital position, though both still remained fully clothed in their formal wear.

“The tux is rented, Adam,” said quietly. “They charge more if you return it soiled.”

Debra, as usual, took it upon herself to deflect my sarcasm. “Ha ha,” she muttered in monotone. “Sounds like the voice of experience talking.”

The CD had finished the near-silent track it had been playing, and I heard the disc changer engage to rotate the next selection into place. The warmth of Marvin Gaye’s voice soon filled the room. But I could hear the dissonant interjections of police radio transmissions from outside. And some man began protesting loudly, if only semicoherently, about his rights.

“Can you see anything of what’s going on?” I asked.

Adam’s head lifted slightly. “Not really. I think they’re arresting him.”

I heard car doors slamming, engines being engaged. The dancing lights departed in groups as the vehicles moved away, and soon the room was almost completely dark.

blonde

2006-08-16T16:58:00.000-05:00

(Dillon's, Boylston St., Boston, MA)

self portrait 8402

2006-08-15T13:35:00.000-05:00

(New Haven, CT)

bright blue, back bay

2006-08-14T17:47:00.000-05:00

(Commonwealth Ave., Boston, MA)

flipbook

2006-08-14T14:42:00.000-05:00

(Brookline, MA)

conjugates of "to drink"

2006-08-13T16:56:00.000-05:00

(The B-Side, Hampshire St., Cambridge, MA)

My Musical Resume by Debbie Naples

2006-08-12T23:10:00.000-05:00

1963–present: bang various pots with wooden spoon

1964–1980: sing Broadway show tunes and Negro spirituals in family car

1966–1974: learn almost the entire musical score to My Fair Lady

1967: play kazoo, self-taught

1967:have kazoo confiscated due to complaints from Italian grandmother

1967–1969: perform with Our Lady of Peace school choir

1967–present: get in trouble several times for banging drums too hard in local music stores

1968: attempt but fail to whistle Andy Griffith Show song

1969: steal father’s harmonica, play it, break it

1969: sing in several variety shows with father (including Broadway hits “Okalahoma,” “Stop the World I Want to Get Off”)

1970–1973: perform with Lordship School Choir, sing two solos

1971: receive tin whistle from Irish grandmother

1971: lose tin whistle when Mother throws it out the window of family car

1972: enroll in flute lessons, 5th grade

1972: get dismissed from flute lessons when teacher realizes I can’t read music

1972: join 5th-grade recorder club without knowing how to read music

1973: acquire own harmonica

1974: learn to read music from Mother

1974–1976: sing soprano with Johnson Junior High school choir

1975 pass out on scaffolding while practicing with Johnson Junior High choir

1976: play with brother’s trumpet

1976: am forced to take free piano lessons at prep school while others play baseball outside

1976–1980: sing soprano with Lauralton Hall school choir

1978: abandon piano for swim team

1978: play and break sister’s clarinet

1980: sing with Fairfield University chorus 4 times, quit due to snobbish behavior of all involved

1980–1982: take guitar lessons

1980–1983: sing in car alone frequently

1982: guitar teacher dies, guitar lessons end

1985: discover significance of Brandenburg Concertos

1985: date man who has FCC license

1986: attend Run–DMC concert

1987: watch drag queen sing selections from La Boheme in F-train station, Greenwich Village

1990: purchase recorder at Costco, learn to play “The Jungle Book”

1994–2002: make repeated visits to Sam Ash Music, New Haven, Connecticut, to ask questions regarding conga drums

1994: learn lyrics to song “4 Wet Pigs”

1997: assist in rewrite of My Fair Lady to My Fair Roshi, spring Zen retreat

1997: perform in My Fair Roshi

1997: have recurring dreams about playing violin

1999: try to learn Italian with singing language tape, create reputation at office

2000: receive guitar for birthday

2000: play new guitar only in secret, mixing Bob Dylan and Elton John’s lyrics

2001: refuse to participate in karaoke e of any kind

2002: memorize a few of MC Solaar’s greatest hits in French

2003: acquire copy of Macintosh Garage Band musical editing software and accidentally call it “Garbage Can”

2003: write own music with free loops from software and force friends to listen

2003: acquire copy of SoundTrack editing software

2003: use SoundTrack to chop up parts of Broadway musical Hair and make new rap tunes

2006: program cell phone mix tracks for exclusive rings

(Debbie Naples is a dabbler in many things. She lives all over the place, but recently admitted to keeping house in Connecticut.)

blanco

2006-08-12T20:43:00.000-05:00

(Shay's, Harvard Square, Cambridge, MA)

rojo y azul

2006-08-12T20:41:00.000-05:00

(Shay's, Harvard Square, Cambridge, MA)

verde

2006-08-12T20:37:00.000-05:00

(Boston Common, Boston, MA)

el pajaro tejano

2006-08-11T15:25:00.000-05:00

(S. Congress St., Austin, TX)

magritte's "this is not a walk in the park"

2006-08-10T11:24:00.000-05:00

(Boston Common, Boston, MA)

while the waders were away

2006-08-10T11:15:00.000-05:00

(Frog Pond, Boston Common, Boston, MA)

supermarket-bakery cinnamon rolls ahoy!

2006-08-08T16:38:00.000-05:00

(Mayor's Compound, West Dennis, Cape Cod, MA)