Filthy Pictures

Well, that got your attention, didn't it?!

As you can see, though, I'm not talking about those filthy pictures. I'm talking about literally, physically dirty and corrupted slides.

I'm almost finished posting all the scanned slides from my first two batches to Flickr. You can see them here. The album has 181 pictures in it as of early this morning, and I think I have about 20 more to go. Two hundred images is a nice round number, though it's bigger than I'd ideally like a Flickr album to be, so I'll start a new one for future scans.

On Monday I began sorting yet another bag of slides that I bought as part of this haul. It definitely contains work by the same photographers whose images I've already been scanning. Some of the people and locations in the pictures are the same. They're like old friends at this point!

I ran into numerous photos that are pretty badly damaged. They look like they got wet, which caused the emulsion on the slides to degenerate and even grow mold. Maybe they were stored in a damp garage or maybe someone had a flood at home.

I began putting them in the trash pile, but then, as I found more, I noticed how cool they look. I remembered Linda Sue saying that accidents can be fuel for art, and in a way these are accidents -- of storage, rather than photography skill. I especially liked that picture above of Corfe Castle and the Greyhound Inn (which is still in business). It almost looks like a painting.

Here are some more slides that were pretty heavily damaged by dampness. The images are all from the mid-'80s to the early '90s, from what I can tell.

There is an artistry to them, isn't there? Be glad you don't have to touch them, though. Believe me, in person, they are pretty nasty.

I wound up pulling them out of the trash and setting aside these favorites. I don't know if they'll continue degrading or if they're stable now that they've dried out, but I sure don't want any residual mold to spread to the other slides, so I'll store them in a separate plastic baggie. Kind of mesmerizing, aren't they?

Anyway, I got through that whole bag -- probably about 1,200 slides -- and as before, I looked at every image and tossed about 2/3 of them because they were boring, flawed or both. I then had to go through the discards a couple of times to pull out the damaged ones above, because I'd belatedly decided to keep them, and to make sure I hadn't made any sorting mistakes.

I'm now down to a few hundred slides, and I will clean, scan and post the best of those over the next couple of weeks. And then two more bags to go!

Mosaics and Tracey Emin

I decided to go out on the town yesterday. I needed some exercise and after a couple of days at home I was ready for a change of scene. So after breakfast I got on the tube and went down to the Tate Modern.

As I walked to the museum from the Southwark tube station, I wound through some little back alleys and found myself in a pocket park off Gambia Street. It featured a couple of mounds or berms, paved with stones and inlaid with little London-themed mosaics like the fox above.

And here's a Jersey tiger moth. I loved those little mosaics. There were about two dozen of them and I could have photographed them all.

I got to the Tate just as it opened, and went first to the Member's Cafe and had a coffee and croissant. I was the only one in the space for a while, sitting by a window overlooking St. Paul's Cathedral and the Thames. (One of my retirement goals is to use my Tate membership more often!) Then I wandered downstairs to see the Tracey Emin retrospective.

Although Emin is quite famous in the UK, I'm not sure I'd heard of her before I moved here. One of her best-known artworks is "My Bed," above, an installation featuring not only her bed but the detritus of everyday life one might find in a bedroom -- underwear, Kleenexes, condom wrappers, slippers, a stuffed dog, a vodka bottle. Its suggestion of intimacy and the squalor of our deepest private places is quite striking. (Behind it is a separate piece in neon, "It's Not Me That's Crying, It's My Soul.")

I came away from the show with a much better understanding of Emin and her work. A lot of it is focused on the sheer brutality involved in being a woman -- the judgements from the men in her life, sexual violence, pregnancies both real and imagined, abortions, body image, illness, aging and death. I'm making it sound dark and bleak but Emin tackles these subjects with vigor, dominating them through energetic painting, sculptures in wood and bronze, photographs and written pages, and bright appliquéd fabric blankets bearing messages. I found it both interesting and energizing.

After the Tate I walked up through St. Paul's, around the cathedral and through Farringdon, Gray's Inn, Fitzrovia, Bloomsbury and Marylebone to Baker Street station, where I caught the tube. Above is Doughty Mews, a picturesque little street near Coram's Fields. As you can see, we did get some sun yesterday. Today is supposed to be pleasant though cloudy, so hopefully I can open some windows and get some fresh air into the house.

I see that Trump critic Rep. Thomas Massie lost his Republican primary in Kentucky to a Trump-endorsed challenger. Along with Sen. Bill Cassidy's loss in Louisiana, this shows how thoroughly some voters remain under Trump's spell. I don't understand it at all. Granted, we're talking about two of the most conservative red states in the country, but this seems like a bad sign for the midterms and it's stunning to me -- stunning -- that any voters still support Trump's agenda. I feel like I'm living on another planet, and maybe I am. Maybe there are things about living in rural modern America that I just don't get -- not just because I'm living in England, but because I have resources and advantages that others don't. I'm not sure. All I know is, I am mystified once again by American voters.

More Baby Birds

I spent part of yesterday watching baby tits on our bird feeder. They're either great tits or coal tits, I'm not sure which. The young birds could already fly, so I guess "baby" isn't really the right word -- more like adolescent? Anyway, they would follow the mother to the feeder and ask her, by vibrating their tiny wings and opening their mouths, to select seeds for them to eat.

The young bird above flew to our nearby quince bush and picked a dead blossom from its branches. It wrestled with it a while before deciding that it wasn't really food.

Here are the babies on the feeder with Mama bird:

Not a great picture because of course they were clustered at the back of the feeder, probably hiding from me (even though I was watching from inside the living room 15 feet away and behind a window). Mama is down below, picking out seeds, and a baby is above her, with its mouth open. Another baby is at the top of the feeder. I think there were three babies altogether.

So, yeah, that was part of the excitement around here yesterday! Otherwise I did some housework -- cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed, put away laundry. Then I went out into the garden and did some weeding. I haven't weeded anything all season but I finally decided to pull the dock and a few other odds and ends. The dock will grow back because, like a dandelion, its taproot is as firmly implanted as a tooth in a jaw. If I don't dig it out, it breaks off at soil level -- but at least that keeps it from going to seed.

Our figs are still on our fig tree, about the size of a golf ball and looking very promising. They're not ripe yet -- in fact I think they have another few months to go -- but Dave saw a squirrel make off with one the other day, so I still don't expect that we'll ever taste them. Maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised.

In the afternoon I walked to the cookshop on the high street and bought an espresso pot. Bill had one in Vienna and it made fantastic coffee, especially with the Austrian grounds I bought while I was there. I usually use a French press and it works fine, but the Austrian coffee didn't taste as good in it. So now I can duplicate my Viennese coffee at home.

Petunias

We may be having a chilly spring, but it hasn't slowed down our petunias or other patio flowers -- the geraniums and African daisies are blooming up a storm. I don't think the daisies have ever had a better year. There are three petunia plants crammed into that little hanging basket and I fully expect them to outgrow it eventually, but for now they look fine.

We got some sun yesterday, which was a welcome surprise given the cloudy forecast. I mowed the lawn:

As you can see, I've left a little patch for No-Mow May. I considered not mowing the whole lawn but it was becoming a shaggy mess. That unmowed area contains some bulbs and ragwort as well as that big teasel, so it makes sense to leave it alone.

I've also left the area around the birdbath wild, but so many birds peck their way through that grass -- which is right beneath the bird feeder -- that I can't imagine it contains any live insects.

And look! Something's been pulling the fluff out of Curlie the Pig. I suspect pigeons. Whether they're actually building nests with it, who knows -- but I'm glad it has at least interested some critter.

Otherwise, I was home all day yesterday. I polished off another New Yorker, including this riveting article about Nick Fuentes and the frightening drift of many young men to the political right. I don't understand this drive to destroy our system that some of them seem to feel. Won't that just be a form of self-punishment, while letting the billionaires skate? It's astonishing how adept people are at blaming defenseless scapegoats for their problems, while the true culprits deflect responsibility. I worry we are headed toward even darker times. The one potential upside -- many of these young guys have turned against Trump. They've decided he's not their guy, and they don't love Vance either.

Anyway, I've cut the New Yorker backlog down to five issues, which I think is pretty good, so maybe I'll begin reading some books again.

I really need to do something about my glasses. I have two pairs from the optometrist, one of which is broken and the other very old. The broken pair has those bifocal lenses that I hate, and don't really need. When I retired, I grabbed a spare pair of readers from my desk at work, and yesterday I began using those -- they give me clearer vision than either of my regular glasses, but they're cheap and plastic and probably won't last long. I'm glad I'm getting some use from them but they're not a permanent solution. I wonder, though, if I should just buy drug store glasses when I need them instead of going back to the optometrist for a pricier solution. Off-the-shelf readers seem to serve my needs just fine.

Demanding Babies and Other Garden Antics

You can feel the exhaustion of a new parent looking at that starling, can't you? All those mouths to feed!

And here's the starling doing the actual feeding -- at least we have a bird feeder to keep them supplied. The two parakeets seem oblivious. As you can see, I've gone back to the bigger feeder, even though it's old and hard to refill (I have to keep it wired shut to discourage the squirrels). Three or four birds can be on it at a time, while the replacement can only accommodate one or two.

We're going through a chilly spell here. It was down in the mid 40's F last night, and will be again tonight and tomorrow night. At midweek the temperatures warm up a bit but supposedly we won't see the sun again until Friday. At least we're getting some rain, finally -- a 90 percent chance on Tuesday.

I'm not sure I did anything yesterday worth writing about. Mostly just trying to get organized after my trip -- do the laundry, water the plants, that kind of thing. I didn't lose any more seedlings in the garden, as far as I can tell, but they're all still tiny.

More squirrel ballet!

I did download the garden-cam last night, so I've got a video of the week's activity. Not as wild as last week, but some good daytime shots of the foxes and some other interesting critters:

We start with the baby starlings, hopping around after their parents on the ground, mouths open to demand food.
-- At 0:16, one of the foxes show up, and there's some back and forth by a couple of animals.
-- At 0:45, a squirrel carefully prowls the grass.
--  At 1:01, the foxes are back. At about 1:09, one of them gives the camera a good long stare, clearly curious about what that thing is.
-- At 1:27, we get some good daylight shots of a fox. I'm not sure which one.
-- At 1:47, this looks like a young bird. It's fairly mature but still has a bit of fluff and stubby baby wings.
-- At 2:07, one of the baby starlings is hopping around with its mouth open, no parent in sight. It's like it thinks food will just fly in.
-- At 2:23, the foxes are back, first Crooked Tail and then Q-Tip.
-- At 2:38, as a little dunnock hops around on the ground, the rain comes.
-- At 2:58, a several hours after the rainstorm, Pale Cat walks past.
-- A fox is back at 3:07, carrying something in its mouth. A dog treat, I'd guess. I still have no idea where they're getting those.
-- Another daytime shot of a fox at 3:12. Looks like Q-Tip, with white on the end of its tail.
-- At 3:28, we see Crooked Tail at night while a noisy helicopter flies overhead.
-- At 3:38, a minute later, the helicopter is gone and Crooked Tail walks off as it begins to rain.
-- At 3:56, just another minute later, Tabby wanders past. The cats and foxes are certainly out there at the same time.
-- At 4:04, about ten minutes afterwards, a damp fox emerges from the brush.
-- At 4:20, the following night, it's Crooked Tail.
-- At 4:30, the mouse is back. No rats this week, thank goodness.
-- At 4:50, one final fox.

Flaktürme and Hundertwasser

I'm back home in London now, sleeping in my own bed and happy about it. I was unconscious for about seven hours last night, and I feel almost like a new person. I slept well at Bill's, I thought, but I guess being in our own bed gave my body permission to relax more deeply.

Bill and I packed a lot into my final morning in Vienna. First we went to the post office, where Bill had to pick up a package, and it was as clean and pleasant and polite an experience as one would expect. Along the way I saw the graffiti above, which reminded me of the Haus des Meeres the day before.

We decided, despite a light rain, to visit a park where two more of Vienna's six flaktürme are standing. The flaktürme somehow became the theme of this trip. (I've learned that flakturm is singular and flaktürme is plural.)

We took the underground to a neighborhood where we stumbled onto this amazing fountain -- circled with cherubs and various robed figures, along with frogs and lizards and eagles and antelope. It's a monument to St. Charles Borromeo, for whom the square is named. The fountain opened in 1909 and there's more about it here.

I can't imagine being Viennese and living around such beautiful, ornate, artistic creations all the time. I mean, London has its share of beauty, but it's more practical. Life in Vienna is like being served a new wedding cake every evening for dessert.

Except for the flaktürme, that is -- the biggest, ugliest things you could ever want to see. The Viennese must have been horrified when the Nazis built them. Can you imagine looking out the window of your elegant Art Nouveau apartment building and having that in the park across the street? But as Bill said, they weren't really in a position to complain.

This one has the words "Smashed to Pieces (In the Still of the Night)" written at the top. Apparently an artist wrote that phrase atop the one that eventually became the Haus des Meeres, and although that mural was covered up by a subsequent expansion of the aquarium, perhaps he wrote it atop this one too. Or maybe someone added it here in tribute to the other piece.

Anyway, I can now say I've seen all six of Vienna's flaktürme, for what it's worth.

The rain had subsided by this time, so we decided to walk to the canal and back toward Bill's apartment. Along the way we passed this curious structure, with whimsical, colorful pillars. This is part of the Hundertwasser Promenade, a walkway named for free-thinking architect Friedensreich Hundertwasser, who created both the pavilion above and the madcap recycling station we saw a few days ago, among other buildings.

As the path along the canal became more urban, we saw more and more truly incredible graffiti and street art. Bill is not a fan, but I argued that without the murals, these walls would all be drab and gray and I'm not sure that's an improvement. Give me the color any day.

Plus the art is always good for a laugh!
 

I wanted a sausage for lunch -- I was in Vienna, after all, the reason that "wieners" have the name they do in English. We stopped at this little stand on Schwedenplatz and I got a bratwurst in a bun with a Gösser beer.

It came nested inside an unsliced roll, like a little child tucked into bed. I have no idea how the guy got the sausage into that cocoon of bread -- he did it so fast as I was talking to Bill that I missed the process. It came with mustard and nothing else and it was fabulous.

Then, alas, it was time for my trip to come to an end. We walked to the flat, where I picked up my bag, said goodbye to Bill (who is probably happy to have his house back) and headed for the train station and then the airport. I was home in London by 7 p.m.

Haus des Meeres and Belvedere

I was amused by this poster across the street from Bill's apartment: "Usually I buy art at IKEA." (It also says "Easier than a Table at Mraz & Sohn," which is a Viennese restaurant.) It's an ad for this online art gallery.

Bill and I spent yesterday out and about, mainly at the Haus des Meeres, or House of the Sea. It's a public aquarium built inside an adapted flakturm, like the ones I showed you in yesterday's post. This is a bizarre idea, when you think about it -- housing sea creatures in a high-rise concrete bunker -- but I thought it was a brilliant way to re-use one of those Nazi-era hulks.

My only complaint is that it's not exactly spacious inside the tower -- lots of smallish rooms and winding hallways and stairs -- and there were quite a few people there yesterday. It was Ascension Day, a public holiday, with schools and many shops closed, so the place was swarming with kids.

There are great views of Vienna from the top deck.

In my video you'll also get a sample of the visible sea life at the aquarium, including small sharks practicing their synchronized swimming maneuvers, a colorful fish known as a queen coris or Formosa wrasse, and some jellyfish.

Here's what the building looks like from the outside. You can see the platforms known as "swallow's nests" that were designed to hold anti-aircraft guns, and now support wildlife exhibits. The video shows what they look like from above. (There were more than just fish at this aquarium -- there were also insects, small mammals like monkeys and lemurs, and reptiles.)

After enjoying the Haus des Meeres, we walked through a nearby shopping district along Mariahilfer Straße. We stopped at a place called Duran for "sandwiches," which were really single slices of bread with various toppings. I ambitiously bought a six-piece selection and ate them all with no problem. (They're pretty small.) The flavor combinations were quite sophisticated.

From there we decided to go to Belvedere Palace, one of the Hapsburg royal residences from the early 1700s. Along the way we passed lots of interesting architecture and scenery, like the row of colorful buildings above.

And here's the outside of Belvedere. You know those Hapsburgs -- always so understated.

I'd been to Belvedere Palace before, when I came to Vienna for the first time almost 30 years ago. So we didn't go inside. We simply wandered the grounds, including a formal garden with cascading fountains (which must have been engineering marvels in their day) and an adjacent botanical garden affiliated with the University of Vienna.

These sphinxes stood guard around the edges of the formal gardens.

By mid-afternoon we were exhausted, so we came back to Bill's and rested for a while. We had a modest dinner -- I got a falafel pita from a place near his flat and he had a leftover burrito from our Mexican meal the day before -- and in my ongoing campaign to educate Bill about '70s disaster flicks, we watched "The Towering Inferno." Bill pronounced it much better than "Earthquake," which I suppose is objectively true, though "Earthquake" will always hold a special place in my heart.

Alas, I've run out of time to show him "The Poseidon Adventure," though I will extract a promise from him to watch it. This afternoon I'm headed back to London!

Flakturm, the Library and a Corkscrew

Many of you had questions after yesterday's post about why Bill's furniture hadn't yet arrived in Vienna if he's been here since January. I owe you a little mea culpa on this point, because the fact is, the furniture hasn't been sent yet. It's all still in storage at their place back in the states. I think they were waiting until they'd found a place here -- which makes sense -- and now it's just a matter of working out the logistics of getting it shipped.

Above you'll see one of the Nazi air-raid defense towers in the Augarten, the park adjacent to Bill's flat. These towers come in a couple of different styles and are called flakturm. We took a walk through the park yesterday morning and came right to the base of the structures, which are truly massive and intimidatingly ugly -- a fitting metaphor for Nazism itself. That's partly why the towers are still here -- as a memorial to the horrors of that era. They're also so big and dense that demolishing them would cost a fortune, so they remain, scrawled with graffiti like the message above: "Never Again!"

Bill and I haven't quite figured out the purpose of the structure's features, like those big sets of iron girders that protrude from the sides. There's an article about the flakturm here that I intend to read and maybe that will be explained.

Our walk took us through the park and along the canal that runs toward the Danube. There were lots of interesting graffiti pieces and stickers en route -- as I told Bill, "If I start photographing this graffiti we'll be here all day!" But I couldn't resist a closer look at a few favorite pieces.

I see these stickers (above) around Bill's neighborhood and I have no idea what they mean. Half fox, half raccoon? A metaphor for European and North American cooperation, maybe?

This creature is lowering a box labeled "your opinion" into a skip (dumpster) labeled "did not ask for it."

I took this with blogger Bug in mind, because I know she likes her penguins.

We walked along the canal, which gradually became less urban and more of a green corridor, all the way to Vienna's futuristic and whimsical recycling plant, a quirky building with a big tower and colorful decorations on the sides.

Then we caught the underground toward the city center, where we went to the central library. Years ago I'd read a piece in the Washington Post about an exhibit there of the quirky items that the librarians had found in returned books. I thought this was a genius idea, having found a lot of weird bookmarks myself at the school library where I worked. Of course that exhibit was no longer on display (I did ask!) but Bill and I spent some time browsing the library anyway, and figuring out the system for locating English-language books (of which there are many). Bill checked out three books and then we made our way to lunch at a Mexican place in Nestroyplatz, named after Johann Nestroy, who I wrote about yesterday.

From there we walked back to his flat. I was intrigued by the mosaic on this otherwise rather bland apartment building along the way. There's a plaque on the building explaining that the original houses there were destroyed during World War II and the modern structure was erected in the early '60s with government funding. The mural is dated 1965. I like the way it progresses from Old Vienna on the left to a beehived woman and James Bond-looking guy in front of a sportscar on the right.

We spent the afternoon at Bill's flat, relaxing and reading. I read blogs but I didn't comment -- it's a long story but my system here makes commenting a bit cumbersome.

Here's a little video showing the view from his balcony:

We went to the grocery store, which is called Spar, in the evening and picked up some stuff for a modest dinner. I bought a bottle of red wine which we then couldn't open because Bill doesn't have a corkscrew. I went back to Spar for one but of course they were out of stock, so I simply bought a second bottle of wine with a screw top. If I happen to locate a corkscrew elsewhere I'll give it to Bill as a housewarming gift!

Last night we watched the movie "Earthquake" because Bill told me he'd never seen a '70s disaster movie. He's never seen "The Poseidon Adventure" or "The Towering Inferno" or "The Hindenburg" or "Airport" or "The Swarm." How is this possible?! "Earthquake" is the one I had most readily available, because of course I've purchased it to stream online, so we watched that. I'm not sure he was impressed. Well, there's no accounting for taste. 😂

Wien

Well, as you can see, I have made it to Österreich. I'm in my friend Bill's apartment near the Taborstraße underground station, in what he calls his "sun room" -- a spacious lofty room with a curved wall of windows at the corner of the building. Here's the view:

Not too shoddy! The only downside is, Bill and his husband David moved here in January and none of their stuff has arrived. So the only things in the sunroom are a lamp and WiFi router (on the floor) and a big sofa, which is where I'm sleeping. The whole space has a very repossessed look, kind of like Demi Moore's apartment at the end of "St. Elmo's Fire," when the creditors have come and hauled away her furniture. Several of the other rooms in Bill's place have nothing in them at all. Thank God for the sofa.

Bill's husband isn't here either -- he's back in New York working for a few months. That's partly why I wanted to come and visit poor Bill, who is utterly by himself. He doesn't know anyone here and doesn't speak German. He seems fine with it but I felt he could use some company, and since I have the time, why not?

I haven't seen Bill in 15 years, but he was present when Dave and I got Civil Unioned in New Jersey and he hung out with us quite a bit back in the brief time we lived there. In fact, he helped me get my job with Gannett after I was laid off by The New York Times Co. (Never mind that I was not a huge fan of Gannett -- he did warn me.) I've known Bill since the '90s, when we were both active in the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association (NLGJA).

So, anyway, we haven't really done much yet. We went out for dinner last night to a neighborhood place where I had salad with a piece of fish on it -- better than I'm making it sound -- and then took a walk afterwards to the Stephansplatz just so I could orient myself.

The statue above is Johann Nestroy, a singer/actor/playwright who is renowned in Austria. According to Wikipedia (which is never wrong), he wrote a play called "Einen Jux will er sich machen," which Google translates as "He Wants to Have Some Fun." It served as the source material for Thornton Wilder's "The Matchmaker," which in turn eventually became "Hello, Dolly!" So there's some Austrian theatre trivia for you, in case it comes up in your next pub quiz.

A Communist flyer posted near our restaurant last night

My flight here was mostly uneventful. At Heathrow, in the waiting area, I sat across from three 30-ish young adults who seemed to be flying together with a chaperone. One of them, a woman, was having a tearful meltdown, saying she "wanted to go home to Mum." The chaperone kept trying to convince her she would have fun, blah blah blah, and eventually they did head off together for some airplane. Hopefully the poor woman's mood improved, or that's going to be a long trip.

There is lots of graffiti here. Some of it is quite amazing, and some of it not so much. I could make myself crazy trying to photograph it all!

This phrase, according to Google, translates to: "Women in the resistance."

Today we're headed to the park adjacent to Bill's flat, and possibly along the nearby canal. The park features a couple of towering Nazi-era fortress-like structures made of concrete, apparently so massive that tearing them down isn't an option -- Bill tells me one has been turned into an aquarium! Should be interesting to see.

Note to self: Buy coffee, milk and sugar. Bill, bless his heart, is a tea-drinker, and yours truly needs his java in the morning.