The jury is still out, discussing, and reading through mags whilst deliberating the ultra-new, yet-to-be-released Ani release, gifted to YT via MaryB last night at The Pub.
More about this later.
One track should/could become an anthem calling for young girls to skip insecurities and move along to power and love of self, as-is.

Little Laura and I found ourselves last night in one of several bar tents at the edge of Hoyt Lake in the midst of sadly dissected Delaware Park (by the 198, of course, way back when for handy E-W accessibility) at Party for the Parks.
The party began at 6. We arrived at 8:30 to discover, in the misty rain, that there were no remaining snacks, save for a pile of pre-packed rice pudding, unchilled.
The Shiney Happy had given YT comps for a pair and we still needed to purchase the ol' drink tix for sipping.
Hence, the bar tent. And then the mist became a deluge so we were invited into the tent by volunteers and met them all. Two were from East Amherst, which was a pleasant surprise, as it seems typical that urban volunteers are urban denizens.
After the rain let up I retrieved our umbrellas that I'd stashed in a handy bush up the staircase and we split back to where we'd begun our journey, Kennedy's driveway.
From there we experimentally traipsed over to Sportsmen's and were greeted by a wall of fishfry aroma, and no band, so we motored along to The Pub which was, as is its wont, highly entertaining.
One guy refused to buy Bad Penny a drink, which she was angling for after the guy had bumped into YT.
As is her specialty, Bad Penny parlayed this into an excellent self-op but the guy would not budge from his stance that he was like so not buying her a drink as he was on a budget – buying himself his own drinks after he'd purchased narcotics.
What type of narcotics, YT queried.
He looked YT over.
Cocaine, he stated, and then we all went about our own rollicking businesses.

YT has been amiss in not posting a scan of a sketch of a young girl, in Batman mask, hanging out her front door in the Historic Old First Ward.
It was a gorgeous Diane Arbus moment and YT absorbed it with eyes as the cam was not at the ready.
There have been several Arbus moments lately.
It is time to make some fresh new inner-city images of the MC – the types of images that gain aura as time progresses.
Like how one cannot appreciate sometimes personal landscapes, documentation of, until time has passed, things changed.

The sky is gray, the greens are lush.
Today YT wears a t-shirt anti-Bush.

Love of bad rhymes.

Self shadowy port with the pictorial bane of my past several months – the orange safety cone.
The Big U is fraught with them and YT has been dragging, shooting around, and cursing them for months.

No love for safety cones.
But love for orange gelato cones, perhaps.

Laboring away this 9/1, flailing away merrily at the ol' laptop, actually listening to discs played on hi-fi rather than little dig files on said machine. Quel difference, it's like so ambient.
Made spectacularly Perfect images at two weddings this weekend, the ultimate being another dual X'n/Hindi affair. Always pleased to recall the Nature-focused aspects of the Hindi service which mentions the planets, stars (the groom points to the Polestar, the big U's constant), elements, love, charity, and more.
The onstage flame seemed to be getting a wee bit out of control, Yours Truly felt her eyebrows growing increasingly toasty. But alas, nothing burnt or melted.

Images above were gleaned for Your consideration from her latest art exhib, Feasting Eyes, at Kenan Center. It's curated by Jerry Mead, is a group show of those of us artistes who like to express ourselves with foodstuffs.
Toppermost is an image of me by Cynnie, alongside Hands with Scary Licorice (in collection of CJ/EC, as well as the Creeleys), and Hands with Hanging Grapes.
NB: red plastic self-proclaimed sippy cup carried in from a Lockport pre-party at Jen's (fellow Shiney Happy writer) home.
Actually, delightedly, walked from her home to Kenan ... a treat in these adrenalized, MC days. Walked the wide streets of Lockport, birthplace of Liz, with Liz and Alan.
Second images shows heads of Cynnie, and Alan. Obviously basking in the joys of my work.
Next is NBelfer, fibre artist, not in show but amongst those who motored northeast for the festivities.
NB again: My work is at top of staircase. YT loves to banister. YT was wearing a skirt. She did not banister and that was a sad and lost op.
Next is funhouse YT in one of the historic and venerable Kenan Center's mirrors.
Mirrors are said to harbor spirits. Somewhere that was said.

Last night, post marathon weekend, picked up Little Laura and found that all vino shoppes were, catastrophically, closed.
In lieu of white wine, picked up a couple of 22's - hers some flavored beer thing, mine a terrifyingly cloying Seagrams Ice. All available for the low, low price of $2.75 at We Never (C)lose, sometimes called We Never Proof.
We wended over to Gordo's garden party, where others of our ilk (though not of our bevvie choices) gathered to say Hello September, etc.
Do note that the green fireworks emanating from YT's head is not that but, rather, the LED's of Gordo's patio-appropriate palm tree.
Lest You wonder.

Onwards to edits.

22-sized Love, Love.

Ahh, another scintillating image from the ongoing Accidental Frame Series, this made in a church yesterday whilst shooting a wedding.
Lens was changed, adjustments were about to be made when kapoof, off shot a frame, a real keeper.
Time to make and do some more this fine and sun-drenched Middling City day.
And Happy Labour Day's Eve to You.

Changed & Adjusted Love.