garrison beau scott

I think this was the very first image of mine that delved into the world of music for titular inspiration. The dramatic lines and texture combined to invoke, in me, the song from the band Phish, entitled, “Chalkdust Torture.” The chalkdust part coming from the texture, the torture coming from the lines.

Now, through the years, Phish has gotten kind of a bad rap regarding their lyrics. Granted, they delve into some pretty far-off subject matter and ask for a certain suspension of disbelief in some of their stories, but when you can say something along the lines of…

“But who can unlearn all the facts that I’ve learned
As I sat in their chairs and my synapses burned
And the torture of chalk dust collects on my tongue
Thoughts follow my vision and dance in the sun
All my vasoconstrictors they come slowly undone
Can’t this wait till I’m old? Can’t I live while I’m young?”

Well, damn it, isn’t that all that matters in a song? Can you really ask anything more from a lyric?

It’s hot, humid, sticky and I’m feeling rather listless. And as I’m very much a list person, that means I’m generally f*cked. And so too, are you dear reader, should you have come here today hoping to find any bit of wisdom or insight as to why I do what I do.

I apologize for having none to offer other than I get off on walking around taking snaps like the one that follows. But you already knew that, right?

Maybe tomorrow I’ll have more to give. Until then, I’m booting the offspring out of the kiddie pool and finding a bottle of ice cold beer.

Oh, wait, here’s a bit of nuggetty wisdom. Summer in Boston is a suck pit of suck.

After two very long posts over the weekend, I’ll be brief. If I were assign lyrics to this picture, it’d be California Dreaming by the Mamas and the Papas.

Golden light, golden sand, blue sky, riding a bike and snapping pix. I know it’s not even close to winter yet, but when you know of California, summer just isn’t the same anywhere else.

When I see one of my images for the first time, I think about what I’m going to title it. It might seem like a goofy thing to think about right off, as opposed to if I succeeded with the composition or the contrast, or if it works on one level or another. For me I guess it’s like naming a child. You can celebrate them all you want, but eventually someone’s going to ask you what they’re supposed to call it. I figure I’ll get the whole name thing out of the way first and then spend the rest of my time with the image celebrating it for what it’s given me.

Sometimes the title comes easily, sometimes I have to come up with something a little odd, and sometimes I turn to music. And by that I mean lyrics. Whenever I’m at a loss for a title, a common practice for me is to pop something in the stereo and meditate on the words, and more often than not, I’ll find it there. Like I did with this one that I’m posting today. I’ve got many reasons for doing it this way; one is that I just think it’s cool. The other is that it serves as a code of sorts, almost a password. If you know the lyrics I’m using, then you know the song, and chances are if you know the song we have a common ground.

And that’s what it’s about right?

This is an easy one for those of you wanting to guess the origin. So without further ado, may I present you with: “A Spring Clean for a May Queen, Vienna, 2001.”