Tunnel books

I finally made a tunnel book from my pictures of the tunnel under the convention center. This is the second incarnation; the first was terrible.


Convtunnel
Here it is from the top:


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It's OK, but it doesn't convey the feeling of the tunnel, which is long, cool, dark, and a little eerie. I'll try again with more space between each of the pictures; maybe that will work better.

Here is the tunnel book I made in the workshop.


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Tunnel-top
We were given the handmade paste papers, so we worked with what we had. In two weeks I am taking a week long book making workshop with Pam Sussman. I don't think it will be this kind of book, but I'm hoping to sharpen my skills.

Back to the books

I'm sitting too much–too many classes. Took a long walk before class today: very helpful. Today was  Indian cinema, yes, Bollywood, Alice. We watched the last half of Dil Se (From the Heart), which we had begun last week. The hero, Shahnukh Kahn, was wonderful and sexy in a way that I don't feel about today's Hollywood heroes, so that was nice. But the film was very depressing, all about terrorists. Also, the class is three hours instead of the usual two, adding to my sittingitis.

On Sunday, I went to a book-making workshop where we made flag books and tunnel books. For a long time now, I've been thinking about making a tunnel book about the tunnel that goes under the convention center. Now I finally feel like I can do it. Here is the tunnel:


Cctunnel
I need one more picture, which I'll try to get this weekend. Then I can make the book.

The flag book I made looks like this on the outside:


Flag-book
The teacher, Diane Maurer, brought all the papers so all of the basic books looked alike. Here is the inside of someone else's book. I didn't photograph mine.


Flag-book-2

I'm so turned on by the tunnel book I feel like I should skip all the classes and just make books. I'll make the tunnel book over the weekend, and I'm still working on the Japanese garden book. That may go on forever, especially since I'm thinking about going to see more gardens.


School, again

Classes started last week. This is the summer semester, although it doesn't feel like it this week–rain and cold. I'm taking a class about mystery books that meets in an independent mystery bookstore; looks like it will be fun. At the very least I'll find out about new authors I'd like to read. Today's class is about Indian films, another area to explore. I have to remember to bring a pillow with me to sit on; chairs are too uncomfortable for long time sitting. Yesterday was archaeology of ancient Israel. I'm learning all sorts of things I never knew before.

Also signed up for a writing workshop, another round of digital photography classes, something about south Asian religion, two classes about Chinese and Japanese gardens and a workshop about making books. And I'm supposed to begin cardio-rehab at the end of the month. Obviously something will have to go; I can't make it all.

“What does your husband think about it?”

That brought me to a grinding halt, and I poked at it all evening the way you keep running your tongue over a newly broken tooth. There were so many assumptions behind the question. Aside from the fact that I don't have a husband, and I had already said I had no one to discuss it with, the tacit assumptions behind it: that my husband would know what to do, would make more sense than I did; I could go on and on. It's not the problem I started with, but it made my feminist heart beat madly. And it was a woman who asked the question.

It all began with one of my students. Once, he told me he came here to be free. Two weeks ago he said we didn't have freedom here. I thought this was connected with his work situation and just said yes, having money gives you more freedom. He seems to have had a lot of problems lately, most of them connected with money. Last week we filled out forms for his daughters' school, and he expressed concern about them possibly not being ready to move to the next grade.

This week he wanted to fill out a form for a passport. He already had completed forms (someone else did them) for his wife and kids. Again we talked about money. I asked why he needed passports, and explained that you only need them if you want to leave the country. He gave me several different reasons for needing a passport, none of which really made sense to me. I helped him fill out the form.

This is when I decided I had to speak to someone and really didn't know where to turn. (Because I have no husband?) Was I being silly? overly suspicious? had I bought into the paranoia that seems to be gripping our country?

I have been working with him under a very loose arrangement with one of the groups that help refugees here in Pittsburgh. They introduced me and left; giving me no guidance. I never hear from them unless I initiate the conversation, which I did, and got that wonderful question to mull over and no practical answers.

Where do I go from here?

I promised pictures

I've taken more than 300 pictures with my new camera, the Canon S90. Don't worry, you'll never have to look at all 300. Here are a few that will also give you some clues about what I've been doing the last two weeks (good things, that is).


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These are just to show how beautiful Pittsburgh is in spring. The flowering trees are just amazing.


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I think this is azalea, but I'm not good about plant names; just good at appreciating.


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This one was in the orchid room at the Phipps. The long, snaky thing just enchants me. Maybe some day I'll make a pattern from it.


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Taken through glass inside the convention center. I was very pleased with the result.

I still don't know how to use all the features of the camera, but it does very well for itself on AUTO.


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This one I shot on manual (you can tell I don't understand it. Shot another on aperture preferred and got this result with both sky and cars as I wanted them. Don't ask me what I did.


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Above and below were shot at the old Pittsburgh Brewery where there was a show called Art All Night.


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Went to the National Aviary for Breakfast with Birds sponsored by the fitness part of my Medicare Advantage plan. They want us to love them. Above was color-corrected in Photoshop; too blue originally.


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If I had a nest like this, I might just live in a tree. It's very small, about the size of the photo you are looking at.


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The next two are from my walk in Frick Park. It was a hard winter; you can see where the tree fell; but spring is now well entrenched.


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This is a print out of the Gigapan I spent so much time color correcting. I'm told this is only 3% of it's size: at 100% it would be 44 feet high.


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Walking again

This morning, Ivetta and I went walking in Frick Park. This is the first time I've been there since last fall; many things have changed. One section along the Homewood Trail was shockingly bare and disturbing looking. Frick Park is a steep valley with wooded hillsides with minimal management, primarily keeping trails cleared and walkable, so this huge dug up area was a terrible surprise. I later found out it was cleared of diseased oak trees in hopes of keeping the disease from spreading.

My usual walk in Frick Park covers about three miles. I made it a little shorter this time, about 2.5 miles, and was pleased to find I was able to climb the hill (downhill in, uphill out) with less trouble than before. However, I found the walk exhausting and took a long nap after I got home. 

Pictures tomorrow.