Wednesday, October 31, 2007

do you believe in ghosts?

As indicated previously, I do not, based on lack of personal experience. But I do have a curious photo that I took in Charleston one year ago. It was outside a historic mansion Aaron and I had just finished touring, it was about mid-October and I didn't see anything at the time. It was only looking back that I saw what you may or may not see here. I showed it to Aaron and he asked me immediately what I had done to the photo - and the honest answer is nothing. This is a camera RAW document that shows very clearly, even as you get closer and closer, something that could be the spirit of an old woman. I swear that this is not a trick of my making. It may be a trick of light and shadows, reflections of sunlight and shade. But it is a naturally ocurring indcident, one I had nothing to do with, post production.

Do you believe in ghosts?

Happy Halloween!

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

southern comfort

Life in the city. From the baskets sold on every street corner, meticulously woven by women native to the South to the waterfront Battery with its endless view from bridge to bridge; from the state flag flapping in the breeze to the forts guarding the entry to the port of Charleston; from the children playing in the fountains to the horses clip clopping down cobblestone streets, Charleston is lovely. The depth of the history is told by the people who live and work here, by the architectural grace of long and close set houses dating from centuries gone by, by the towering white columns, arched entry ways and church steeples rising into the hazy blue sky. This is a place of learning and pleasure, ghosts and graveyards, yesterdays and todays, with a strong undercurrent of historical significance that leaves an impression. It's a place of charm, filled with the echoes of a hundred thousand footsteps and brimming near to overflowing with the truest form of southern comfort. This is Charleston.

Monday, October 29, 2007

beyond the gates and gardens of Charleston

Behind creaky, rusting gates, within the courtyards of houses that run deep, not wide, and beyond the guarded entryways to alleys await the protected boundaries of the secret garden and silent churchyard. Tiptoe quietly, press your face against the cool metal and lean in a little closer to get a better look inside. Walk close, but don't try to disturb the privacy - you'll be thwarted by high iron spikes, formidable and wicked or locked doors that have no key. Use your imagination to configure a tale of what waits over and behind the gates and within the gardens and alleyways of Charleston.