I was going through my media storage the other day, and came across this shot from a trip to New Orleans a couple years ago. I never got around to putting this one out, so here it is finally. It must have been quite a sign when it worked, and this was definitely the more preserved side of the sign. Only a few neon tubes remain and the paint has long since faded, but from top to bottom it reads, “Union Foreign American Parts”. Sounds like an identity crisis, or they were just trying to appeal to everyone.
“Holy beignets and po’ boys, Batman – this place does exist!”
While in New Orleans not too long ago, I came across this building. Gotham Industries. The sun was down, the sky was getting stormy, and the only thing missing for a movie setting was the bat signal in the sky.
For this week’s Daily Post Challenge: Names
The Elks Theater in Prescott, Arizona is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. These photos were taken at the end of 2005, after work was done to replace the aging ropes of the stage sets. At the time, there were very few theaters still using this type of hoisting system, as most have moved to an electronic control panel, or at least a stage-level operating area with stacks of counterweights.
The theater has undergone renovations in the last few years, but I imagine the stage has remained intact. It is one of the elements that makes the place unique and historic. From what I’ve read, all the restoration has been going into the seating area, lobby, and exterior.
In the Elks Theater, the person operating the curtains and other stage sets has to climb this ladder to get to the operating platform. The door (plywood panel) is normally locked against this ladder to prevent unauthorized access.
Once on the elevated platform, all the ropes are tied off here. The sandbags are the counterweight for the appropriate curtains or sets.
Once on the platform, there is another ladder going up to the pulley system, where the ropes extend out across the stage and drop to the points where the pipes are tied off.
In response to this week’s Daily Post Challenge: Nostalgia
This week’s Daily Post Challenge theme is Mirror, and as with many bloggers, I have photos of calm bodies of water. Who can resist pointing the camera towards nature’s reflections? Those weren’t the only ones I came across, and I realized I have more of these than I initially thought I would. Here are some of my favorites.
I usually had my camera along with the dogs out for an excursion, and in these shots, I noticed some reflections.
In modern buildings, the glass surfaces almost always offer a mirrored image, and here are a couple favorites from Calgary, Alberta.
With that much volume of water in motion, large rivers seem like an unlikely place to find a mirrored surface. Despite that, early morning on the Colorado River in Marble Canyon in Grand Canyon, Arizona can look like this.
In my backyard (relatively speaking), I have a couple spots I enjoy hiking in Red Rock Canyon, where I came across these mirrored surfaces.
One of my favorite places that I’ve ever hiked, West Clear Creek in Arizona, usually has a breeze moving through the canyon. Early mornings can be very calm, and pools can be glasslike.
Mountain lakes with reflections appear to have proliferated my files without me being aware of it. Here are some in that category.
One image that always made me look twice was this one from Coyote Buttes. There is no water or reflection here, but I felt like the illusion was there.
I have one photo of an actual mirror. This is the MMT (Multiple Mirror Telescope) at the Whipple Observatory on Mount Hopkins, Arizona. During daylight, this telescope dish is tilted down and pointing northward. This was around the summer solstice, and at sunset, when the sun was at its furthest point north. As I walked by, this cool mountain air had a hotspot about 20 degrees warmer from the sun just grazing the edge of this dish array. I can’t imagine the destruction if this thing were aimed in the slightest degree towards the sun.
Finally, a little bit about the featured image. That’s Saguaro Lake, on the outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona. It’s usually a crowded place, especially in summertime. This happened to be in winter, after a couple days of rain. It’s a fairly sizeable body of water, and this reflection has to be a rare moment, and the absence of people, even rarer. This photo will always have a special place in my memories. It was the first one I ever had published.
As I ventured around Seattle, I was fascinated with the patterns and textures of the buildings. Maybe that’s because I live in a city that lacks older genuine buildings. As with yesterday’s post, the lack of rain made all this possible.
For this week’s challenge, bridges seemed like an obvious choice to visualize connections. Burro Creek bridge, above, spans a pretty deep canyon, but you’d never know it by this shot. Winter morning fog was the remnant of a significant storm from the previous days, and made for a great morning photoshoot.
A place renowned for its fog, San Francisco, is where you’ll find the Bay Bridge connecting that city to Oakland and points beyond. I had clear skies on my last visit there, allowing me to capture this panorama of the Bay Bridge.
Another piece of architecture, the downtown Seattle library, looks as though it is three separate structures connected together.
In nature, I came across these hanging flowers in a botanical garden in Hawaii. They appear to be connected by a long red rope.
Also in nature, I visited Chiricahua National Monument in southern Arizona, home of the Pinnacle Balanced Rock. It’s a pretty amazing sight to see something of that size and weight connected to its base on that tiny spot.
Lastly, the strongest connections you will ever encounter are the human kind. Emotional bonds are the source of many decisions we make in life, and not always for the best.
For an example of a physical connection, I have chosen this pair of ballroom dancers. In any type of partner dancing, nothing works if there is not a connection.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Connected.”
Here in Las Vegas, there is nothing 100 years old. I think it’s an unwritten law that a building must be imploded when it reaches 40 years, with something new and shiny replacing it. I had this shot in my files from the desert west of Salt Lake City, Utah. There were no historical markers or anything to indicate its age or any significance. I’m guessing its time to be from early 1900’s. Maybe a reader with more knowledge on building methods of the past might weigh in with some better info. In response to Sunday Stills Photo Challenge