Elon Musk has just announced that he’s going to reactivate Donald Trump’s Twitter account. He said he used a “poll” and let the people decide.
I call B.S. I mean, how can anything on Twitter, which is rife with fake accounts and bots, be considered a valid poll. It just shows me how naive, or how scheming, Elon Musk is.
I haven’t been a big user of Twitter. My following, if it can be called that, is miniscule. But although I am small, I do have power, because there’s power in numbers. And if everyone who is as appalled as I am about Elon Musk’s recent actions were to dump their Twitter accounts, we’d have a voice.
So tonight I’m dumping Twitter.
Here, let me tell you what I really think: I have no desire to accidentally see Trump’s face or read his stupid tweets. If I do, I may get ill, and I’ll certainly feel sullied.
In my opinion, he’s a lying, dangerous man who’s forfeited his right to free speech on Twitter, especially while running for President again.
If you need other reasons to question Musk’s judgment and trustworthiness to run a site of this magnitude and influence, consider this article by Vanity Fair, that lists 21 “terrible things Elon Musk has said and done.”
I don’t wish to be a silent partner to this billionaire.
Bye bye, birdie. This bird has flown.
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This is post #19 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”
And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.
Photo (mastodon) by Lori Bonati
Featured photo (person at computer) by ijmaki @ pixabay.com
Time for another set of photos inspired by my camera. Yesterday was a slugfest. Today is a bugfest. But don’t worry. They’re only pictures!
First up is a pine white butterfly (Neophasia menapia), as seen at Butchart Gardens in Victoria, British Columbia. This lovely creature, also known as the pine butterfly, feeds on the needles of pine and certain fir trees when it is a caterpillar, and on nectar as an adult. This butterfly is sampling some butterfly milkweed nectar at the moment.
Next, we have another butterfly, photographed in a quiet park in Tucson, Arizona on a bright, sunny day. This one has a long name: Ministryomon janevicroy. It’s perched on an upright prairie coneflower (Ratibida columnifera, or Mexican hat). The Ministryomon janevicroy gets its name from the spouse (Jane Vicroy Scott) of its discoverer, Jeffrey Glassberg. I think this is my favorite butterfly because it’s so powdery white, with thin, orange, wavy lines. Its most unique feature is its OLIVE GREEN EYES. If you zoom in, you can probably see them.
Working our way from pretty to a little bit scary, we have this little bee. Or is it a wasp? I’m not sure. It’s feeding on an Echinacea flower, which is in the daisy family. You can just scroll right past it if you have a fear of bees.
And you might want to scroll past the next one, too. In fact, I recommend it. It’s a horse lubber grasshopper (Taeniopoda eques). Believe it or not, I was able to take this photo up close without getting (too) grossed out. There were four or five of these big lugs, or should I say lubbers, hopping around on my fairy duster plant one day (again, in Tucson), so I did what every dedicated photographer does when they see a huge, disgusting insect: grab their camera and snap away. Then they yell “Ewww” and run screaming into the house. At least that’s what I did.
I enjoy taking pictures of butterflies and then identifying them via Google. It’s not that hard. You just have to be persistent. It’s not like identifying birds, which are hard to photograph in the first place, and then have so many variations within species. At least that’s been my experience.
On the other hand, I’m not wild about staring at pictures of insects for very long, but that’s just me.
The above pictures were taken some years back. Now, with my newer camera and a bit more free time, I’m hoping to capture better butterfly pictures in the future (and probably no more insects, if I can help it, except maybe a dragonfly … or a caterpillar … but no more horse lubbers, I promise!). All of that will have to wait, though. It’s currently 33 degrees out where I live now, and snow is in the forecast.
I think I’ll stick to indoor photography for the next three or four months. Then maybe I’ll start bugging people with pictures of bugs again.
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This is post #17 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”
And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.
As midnight approaches on the 16th day of National Blog Posting Month, I find I’m at a loss for words. I’m likely to do something wild and unpredictable.
Well, this blog is supposed to be inspired by my camera, and I do have a photo or two in my collection. Let’s see what I can come up with.
(Pause while I pull up my photo app …)
Ahh. Okay. Fortunately, I’ve found something: a portrait in vibrant purples and golds. It shimmers. It moves. It practically jumps off the page! The model reminds me of a graceful Flamenco dancer. Her dress is as soft as a petal.
Unfortunately for you, the model is a slug. A literal slug.
Introducing: Señorita Iris Maria Ariana Slug! (I.M.A. Slug, for short)!
I told you I was likely to do something wild and unpredictable. And I did!
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This is post #16 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”
And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.
My photography critique group’s assignment for this month is to take pictures that reflect emotion.
This is a very subjective task. What might prompt an emotion in one person might not do the same for someone else. But our group mentor gave us some helpful tips. For example, use of lighting, point of view, cropping, color, and composition can all play a role in generating emotion.
It’s a lot tougher to accomplish than I realized. Just taking a photo of a flower doesn’t necessarily prompt an emotion, but if it’s wilting, or if someone is angrily plucking the petals off a daisy, or if it’s being yanked up by its roots? … I don’t know. I’m grasping at stems right now.
We’re supposed to submit three photos to the group by December 7. As if I didn’t already have enough to do writing a blog a day! But I’m going to try my best. Luckily, we’re allowed to turn in one of our favorite old photos, as long as it has the potential of bringing out an emotion in our viewers.
Here’s one that might do the trick. I took it over 20 years ago, with a film camera, when I was first getting started in photography. It’s a little out of focus, but I still like it very much because every time I look at it, I feel joy and spontaneity. (I also feel surprised – surprised that I was lucky enough to capture that precious smile.)
I’ve read somewhere that a great emotional photo CAN be out of focus. The important thing is to capture the moment. If you’ve done that, and created something that will get a reaction, you’ve done your job.
Did you feel anything?
Here are two more photos I’ve taken in the past. They’re both candid shots of strangers. These photos generate emotions in me, but I’m not sure they do the same for others.
This photo assignment makes me realize how few photos I’ve taken of people, and how few that express emotion. It’s a good thing to know.
So, for the next several days, I’ll be focusing (no pun intended) on taking emotional photos (and also catching up on reading blog posts). Wish me luck!
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This is post #13 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”
And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.
Title photo (smiley faces) by AbsolutVision @ pixabay.com.
My photography critique group’s assignment last month was to submit three photos inspired by song or book titles. I’ve already shared one of those photos in my post, “Secrets Revealed” — the one called “Chelsea Morning,” which was inspired by a song by Joni Mitchell. Today I’ll show you my photo titled “Souvenirs,” inspired by the song and cd by John Prine.
If you’ve never heard of John Prine, I highly suggest you listen to him singing “Hello in There,” and then listen to Brandi Carlile sing it, too (with an amazing introduction by Stephen Colbert). Don’t be put off by Prine’s voice, which I’ll admit isn’t the best. It’s his honest, down-to-earth persona and absolutely devastating lyrics that get me.
Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about him:
John Edward Prine … was an American singer-songwriter of country-folk music. He was active as a composer, recording artist, live performer, and occasional actor from the early 1970s until his death. He was known for an often humorous style of original music that has elements of protest and social commentary.
… Widely cited as one of the most influential songwriters of his generation, Prine was known for humorous lyrics about love, life, and current events, as well as serious songs with social commentary and songs that recollect sometimes melancholy tales from his life.”
Wikipedia, Nov. 9, 2022
Sadly, I never got to see him perform live. He passed away from COVID-19 on April 7, 2020. But before he died, I’d listened to his “Souvenirs” cd many times. I’d sung along to it in the car so often that I’d memorized all of the lyrics and most of the little inflections in his voice.
I decided to use the song, “Souvenirs,” for my photo assignment. I knew I had a stash of memorabilia in my guest room closet (I’d recently been in there looking for something), so I went back in and retrieved a handful of ticket stubs. Here are just a few of them:
These ticket stubs really brought back some good memories. For example:
The Kinks at Melody Fair, 1995
I remember Ray Davies entering the stage wrapped in a British flag, and the excitement of hearing him and, I believe, his brother Dave, performing all their greatest hits from the 60s. I particularly remember his energy. And now, every time I listen to “The Kinks Choral Collection,” an album of Kinks songs Ray sings with a symphonic orchestra and full chorus of backup singers, I feel that energy.
No, not that kind of chorus.
It’s this kind of chorus:
And, believe it or not, they blow the roof off of “All Day and All of the Night” and “You Really Got Me.”
Rent, Nederlander Theatre, NYC Theater District, May 27, 2001
In 2001, my daughters (ages 17 and 21 at the time) and I took an all-girls vacation to New York City. I’m not from the BIG city, so it’s always a thrill for me to go there. We had fun and saw lots of Big Yellow Taxis, the kind Joni Mitchell wrote about.
It was my 17-year-old who suggested we see the musical “Rent,” and we managed to nab cheap tickets that very day. The production was great. My favorite song was “Seasons of Love” (“525,600 Minutes”). Seeing “Rent” had a major impact on my daughter’s decision to become a social worker, which she still is to this day.
In the next installment of “Souvenirs,” I’ll share more memories jarred loose by seeing these ticket stubs. Which ones do you want to hear about next?
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This is post #9 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”
And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.
In 1666, while young Isaac Newton was quarantined in a dark bedroom to avoid catching the plague, he noticed a tiny beam of light pouring through a hole in his window. Using a glass prism, he bent the light to make a rainbow of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and indigo. (Not violet, but that’s coming. For now, it’s just ROYGBI.)
Next, he reunited the ribbons of light using a second prism, turning them a solid white again. This was how he proved that light, which we perceive as white, is actually made up of several colors.
Newton then drew a chart of the six rainbow colors, adding a seventh one (you guessed, it, violet) by combining the first (red) with the sixth (indigo) in order to connect the arc together in a continuous circle.
And finally, he labeled his seven-color wheel with the letters A through G. Why did he choose these letters? He wanted them to match the seven notes in the western musical scale. I think he felt a connection between colors and music … as many people do. The connection is kind of magical (one could even say it’s a Rainbow Connection, especially if one were Kermit the Frog).
Here’s Newton’s illustration of the Color Wheel. Note that the sections are unevenly spaced, corresponding to the way notes on the musical scale are arranged (full steps after A, C, D, F, and G, but only half-steps after B and E).
Speaking of colors, here are some colorful autumn scenes, taken just last month. Click each one for a bigger burst of color.
Leaves Holding HandsHighland Park, Rochester NYHelderberg Mountains, near Albany, NYHelderberg EscarpmentRainbow ConnectionBurning Bush in my yard
Since Newton’s birthday is December 25, I’m going to go out on a limb (an apple tree limb, of course), and guess that his favorite colors were red and green. Mine are yellow and indigo. What are your favorite colors?
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This is post #7 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”
And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.
In my Nov. 2 post, Secrets Revealed!, I shared the story of how I came to write a little ditty called “Home Alone.” Today, I’d like to talk about another song I’ve written for my new songwriting club.
Our prompt for this song was “inspiration.” We were supposed to try and write songs having to do with a quote that means something to us. I bent the rules a bit and used the title of one of my photos for inspiration. Here’s the photo, which also can be seen in my Nov. 1 post:
The stillness and vulnerability of the trees, and the way they seemed to be listening to and supporting each other, made me want to write something quiet and reflective to support them, something that would say “I hear you.” I grabbed my guitar and played one of my favorite chords, A-major-seventh (Amaj7). Here’s a photo of an Amaj7 chord that I found online. It’s one of the easier chords to make!
Photo by sweetlouise at pixabay.com
Major chords, or major triads, are often described as happy. The notes are bright and positive-sounding. Minor chords can be described as sad. The second note of the triad (third note of the scale) is dropped by a half-step (one fret on the guitar). For some reason, this brings out sad emotions. But major SEVENTH chords are really different. They add an unexpected fourth note – a half-step below the octave – and the result is a little bit dissonant and melancholy, but at the same time warm, sweet, and hopeful. At least that’s how I hear major seventh chords.
After I played that Amaj7 on the guitar, my hands drifted up the neck a bit and sort of accidentally landed on the strings in places that, when strummed, sounded good to my ear. Turns out it was a chord called Cadd9. (I had to look it up.)
My new song, “Listen to the Trees,” ended up with ten different chords altogether, and it all started with that Amaj7. It has a bossa nova beat which makes me think of the great Brazilian jazz composer Antonio Carlos Jobim, who used a lot of major seventh chords in his own songs.
Here are the lyrics to my song:
LISTEN TO THE TREES
Whispers in the forest, carried on a breeze
hear the quiet chorus of the trees
branches are bending, roots move underground
messages that barely make a sound.
Telling their troubles, each in their own way
helping each other through the day
around them only silence, actions too few –
and the trees, they know this is true.
Take the time to listen, listen to the trees
know what they are saying, get down on our knees
tell them we hear them, do what they need
and give a word of thanks to the trees.
Inhale the essence of treasures we can lose
be mindful of the things we choose
learn nature’s lessons from branches above
wrap our arms around the ones we love.
I’ll try to record it and post a link, if I can remember how to use Garage Band. That could take me until next November, though!
Have you ever written a song, poem, or story about trees? Post a link in the comments below if you have!
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This is post #5 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”
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Featured image at top of post by Gordon Johnson at pixabay.com
Welcome to Day 2 of NaBloPoMo and NanoPoblano (November’s 30-day blog post challenge).
I have a new camera!
Yes, about two weeks ago, I bought a Nikon Z5. It’s a step up from my Nikon D3200, and it comes with some awesome features like full frame sensor, mirrorless, better sensor, image stabilization, tilting touch screen, and more focus points. Plus, it even has the ability to stack several photos on top of each other.
Secret #1: I don’t really understand any of that, but I’m hoping for some interesting results, eventually!
I also bought a new lens to go with my camera, a 28-75mm zoom.
Secret #2: My old 18-300mm zoom lens was fairly crappy. The more I used it, the more I came to realize that. In low-light situations, or when zooming all the way out (for example, when trying to capture birds in flight), everything was either grainy or out of focus. It was frustrating. My new lens seems to be doing better. It only zooms out to 75mm, but that’s okay, because I think it’s a better quality lens. Eventually, I’ll buy the 28-200mm I have my eye on, but for now I’m just going to focus (pardon the pun) on learning to use what I’ve got.
Here’s one of the first shots I took with the Z5 – a zinnia in my garden. For this shot, zoomed out to 75mm, I got close to the flower and set the f-stop at 2.8, which gives the photo that soft, blurry background known as “bokeh.”
And here’s another one of my first “new camera” photos. I think it’s the first still life I’ve ever attempted.
I set the camera on a tripod and experimented with different lighting, including filtered window light plus a floor lamp. For the background, I went to a fabric store in search of black velvet. The closest they could come to that was brown velveteen, which I settled for, and I’m glad I did … I like how the soft brownish tones go with the toast.
But … Secret #3: I wish I’d gotten more of this photo in focus. I could have done that if I’d taken my time and adjusted the f-stop from 5.6 to a higher number.
By the way, that plate in the picture? I spent $10 on it at an antique store, specifically for this picture, and … Secret #4: I promptly smashed a chunk of it off when I accidentally banged it against the bowl of oranges while arranging the shot. I cobbled the plate back together with clear packing tape, and then … Secret #5: I airbrushed the crack line in the photo using my Lightroom photo editing software. (Okay, now you know all my secrets.)
This still life is based on a song, “Chelsea Morning,” by Joni Mitchell. Do you know it? Click the link and you can watch her singing it live in 1969. I actually just met someone online who had never heard of or listened to Joni’s song, “Blue,” and that made me sad. If you’ve never heard “Blue,” I urge you to listen to it!
But now, back to Chelsea Morning. The song, one of Joni’s earliest recordings, includes the following lyrics, which you’ll hear at 1:38 in the video:
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning
and the first thing that I knew
there was milk and toast and honey
and a bowl of oranges, too.
After all this talk about songs, I think my next post will be about my own attempts to write a new song, which I’ve titled “Home Alone.” And it isn’t the least bit sad!
Welcome back for the fifth and final installment of “Lucky to Live in the ROC.” After Part 4‘s mad-dash adventures in pizza tasting, coffee drinking, and mural gazing, I’ll bet you’re ready for a nice relaxing drive through the autumn hills of upstate New York.
But first, a note: November is National Blog Post Month (#NaBloPoMo), when dedicated bloggers everywhere try to post a little something every day. Throughout the month, I’ll be writing daily posts until I run out of ideas – which could be tomorrow. 🙂 Luckily, I’m part of a Facebook group (NanoPoblano) that cheers each other on by reading and commenting on each others’ posts. To read NanoPoblano posts, just join the NanoPoblano Facebook group or type NanoPoblano in the WordPress search field.
Now for those autumn hills:
Letchworth State Park
A beautiful upstate New York destination – especially in the fall – is Letchworth State Park, 40 miles south of Rochester. Due to its scenic gorge carved out by the Genesee River, the park is known as the “Grand Canyon of the East.” The photo below was taken at Inspiration Point, where you can take in the view of both Upper Falls in the distance and Middle Falls. (Lower Falls can’t be seen in this photo.) It’s just a short drive (or fairly easy round-trip hike) from one waterfall to the next, with plenty of parking areas, and even a snack bar close by. I visited the park on a Sunday, and even though it was a weekend, it wasn’t crowded at all.
After admiring the view, I turned around and looked up at the trees. They seemed to be communicating with each other (which, according to Peter Wohlleben in “The Hidden Life of Trees,” they actually do). These trees literally inspired me to go home and write a song about them. I call it “Listen to the Trees.”
Trees at Inspiration Point
Here’s a closer look at Upper Falls:
Upper Falls
The photo at the top of this post (above the title) is Middle Falls.
Harriet Hollister Spencer State Recreation Area
About 35 miles south of Rochester, you can hike through Harriet Hollister Spencer State Recreation Area and get a lovely view of Honeoye Lake, one of the eleven Finger Lakes.
Honeoye Lake
Look around and you’ll see even more to admire there: leaves, park buildings, a hornet nest (yikes!), and even a gray squirrel or two. Full disclosure: the squirrel was perched on a fence in nearby Dansville, which I visited later in the day, but somehow he jumped into this scene. I’ll forgive him for acting so squirrely.
Harriet Hollister Spencer State Recreation Area
This sure was a good year for fall colors. The hills seemed to be alive with brilliant reds, oranges, and golds, especially when the sun hit them just right. I’m glad I got outside with my camera in October, because the leaves are dropping quickly now.
Speaking of which, I have a new camera! Although the above photos were taken with my older one (a Nikon D3200, considered “entry level” among DSLR cameras), future posts will show my attempts at learning to use my new Nikon Z5 in “manual” mode. Stay tuned!
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Welcome back for another installment of “Lucky to Live in the ROC,” the ongoing series in which I write about upstate New York attractions in and around Rochester. In the last episode, I promised you an epic road trip in search of the perfect pizza, and some unexpected artwork, so here goes:
The Pizza
On a recent road trip through upstate New York, I stopped in Geneseo, a quaint college town thirty miles south of Rochester, and discovered “Mama Mia’s Pizza.” The pizza was so amazing – thin and crispy, with great-tasting sauce – that I returned a few weeks later with a friend for another slice. This time, I didn’t just get great pizza, I got a great cup of coffee, too.
When I ordered my coffee, the woman behind the counter said they’d make a fresh pot. “Okay,” I replied, wondering if I was causing them too much trouble as I began to eat my pizza at a table outside. Pretty soon, a young man came out. “I’m going to make you a cup of Costa Rican coffee.” “That’s fine,” I said.” About ten minutes later, I’d finished my pizza and was wondering if I’d ever get my coffee. Suddenly, the coffee man came out with a steaming cup.
“I ran home and got some beans,” he explained. “I bought them at the Rochester Public Market, they’re great.” And he’d come back to the shop and ground them just for me. Wow. It was the BEST cup of coffee I’ve had in a long time.
I didn’t take a picture of my pizza because it disappeared too quickly, but it looked something like this:
This is NOT Mama Mia’s pizza. This image is from neciodesalida @ Pixabay.com.
And here’s a sign I saw in a Geneseo shop window.
Store owners were encouraged to put inspirational signs up during a mural festival. Keep reading to learn more about that.
The Unexpected Artwork
In 1914, Robert Frost wrote “Mending Wall,” a poem about a wall that divided his orchard from his neighbor’s forest. “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,” he wrote. But in Livingston County, New York, the residents love their walls so much that, last July, they commissioned some artists to paint murals on them, and then they held the Livingston County Mural Festival to show them off.
The colorful walls are actually the sides of buildings, one for each of the nine villages in Livingston County. I hadn’t heard about the murals, but on our way home from Mama Mia’s Pizza, my friend pointed out of his window.
“Cool,” he said. “I’d like to photograph that.” We parked on Main Street and gaped at the mural for a while.
Geneseo, NY. Artist: Key Detail (Andrei Krautsou & Julia Yu-Baba)
Soon, a woman approached us. I thought she might have been the mural’s artist, eager to talk about her work. But she was just a helpful citizen who wanted to tell us all about the festival.
Like the friendly coffee man, she momentarily ran off and returned bearing a gift: a small booklet detailing everything you ever wanted to know about the festival, including maps and the painters’ names. That day, we made it our mission to visit each and every one of the Murals of Livingston County.
I know that sounds like “The Bridges of Madison County,” but please do NOT mistake this essay for that book. If you’ve ever been forced to read “The Bridges of Madison County,” or if, like me, you were just curious to see how bad it was, I’m sorry to bring it up.
But hey, who am I to judge? I just binge-watched eleven episodes of “Virgin River,” where almost every scene ends with a warm embrace and this stunning dialogue:
“I love you.” “I love you, too.”
I can’t wait for Season Five! And no, I’m not being sarcastic!
But I digress. Here are two more murals of Livingston County. I’ve actually been to four others to date (Avon, Caledonia, Leicester, and Lima), but I lost the photos! It’s the first time a memory chip has failed on me (besides the one in my brain, that is). It’s disheartening, but I can always go back and take more photos. I think the murals will be there for a while.
Dansville, NY, my birthplace! Artist: Arlin GraffNunda, NY. Artist: Matthew Mederer
Next time, I’ll post recent photos of Mother Nature’s artwork: the colorful autumn leaves I’m seeing everywhere. Stay tuned!
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