Latest Accidental Frame image, made during the shooting of a mural of a Saint.
Clare, to be exact.
Could this image be like the various likenesses spotted by believers in places as divergent as clouds, oatmeal, toast, a corn flake.
It is a black & white image during a colourful photo shoot, and day.
Does this image look like the curve of the Vaticani's Saint Paul dome.
Clare is famed for what I just do not know - a quick Google is in order.
(pause)
I like Clare, according to ad-ridden Catholic Online she was a great Italian beauty who fell in love with Saint Francis - his words of wisdom.
She founded an order called the Clares, a roving band of gorgeous do-gooder nuns, Yours Truly imagines.
They did not wear shoes.
Shoeless beautiful Italian ladies defies logic, and experience.

Just made lovely portraits of a professor from the BigU, one who was in my English Department but who I didn't take classes with. He is, though, one whom I had many conversations with during those salad undergrad years and beyond.
He's a great raconteur and I left with a signed copy of his latest book.
Quite old school and lovely.
We had coffee in his garden.
YT has never refused a cordial cup of tea or coffee on assignment but will not imbibe on a gig.
Next up is the hoopla surrounding the big football throwdown between the BigU and Army.
A moment of blue & white pompoms, bodypainted undergrads barechestedly spelling out G-O-B-U-L-L-S-!, and oso much more.
YT loves hoopla of all sorts, including that of the sporty genre.

Love of Mysteries - saintly and footbally.

Got to meet Khaled Hosseini - author of Kite Runner - last night during gig at the BigU; he was in town to do some Q&A as a Distinguished Speaker.
While walking down a long hallway from green room to V.I.P. reception asked him some questions, including: Do you draw.
Hosseini said that he drew when he was younger and his brother is a talented artist who may be inking some for either DC or Marvel.
He made time when he was still a physician to write every day, rising at 5 a.m. to do that.
Asked him also if he needs to center himself before he speaks publicly and he gave me a wry look before saying No, I just go out and do it.
He also let it be known that he'd sign books and memorabilia for students until the cows came home and then some as, he says, he prefers to meet students.
Yours Truly is always surprised when people at receptions approach writers to sign books and they don't speak to the author, as if the signature is really the most important thing, not sharing a thought.
Also, people seem to approach authors with closed books, and no pens.
Then there is the awkward scramble to find the correct page, and a nearby pen.
YT didn't stay for talk but forged ahead to a b-day dinner (Yes, the celebrations continue - hooray) with Brucey and meeting out some ladies at venerable Nietzsche's where YT caught up with, amongst others, Michael Meldrum.
YT noted that MM carries around a copy of the photo of him and the very young Ani.
We all have our pride, mementos, and fandom.

Onwards to art openings featuring work by two pals - Cynnie and Catherine.
Both conveniently located on historical Allen Street.

Artful Love of Fanfare.

Debate About Debates: A Short Play by Nancy J. Parisi

Setting: Campieri's/888 Main Street, Middling City, USA. 2008.
An MC-esque congenial barroom setting with people gathered for spectator sport - hockey, to be followed by the ultimate presidential candidate debate.
There are, on the bartop, some platters of wings, pizza, some drinks.
DanC, proprietor, is in & out of the kitchen, commenting all the while about the proceedings.
He has presented the creator of this short play a bottle of birthday wine.
He is thoughtful, and tattooed.
An indiscreet subtext of this play is that during cajoling AJ, barkeep, to put the debate on pronto as the hockey clock ticks down, Yours Truly is also cajoling DanC to participate in the Shiney Happy Mag's Eligible feature that YT is working on.
He says yes, he says no, he says maybe.
YT tells him that he is indeed participating and that she will interview him, and then photograph him. Details of such are hashed out. Somewhat.

Hockey Fans:
YAYYYYY.

Debate Fans: (YT, Liz, LittleLaura, MKO)
How many SECONDS left in this game. OH NO, another penalty.
(finally)
10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 ~ AJ put on the debate.

AJ:
There's only ONE Sabres game and there are so many debates - they're like relationships, there's nothing left to say.

YT:
Nonsense, there are always additional issues to be discussed.

(Sabres fans are still cavorting, much to the chagrin of the debate watchers.)

MKO:
Omigosh, he just mentioned Joe Plumber again.

YT:
(Looking at iPhone) I just got a text from Deb, she says she's going to be Joe Plumber for Halloween. I think I'll be Joe Sixpack, even though I don't drink beer.

Liz:
I'll be Joe Blow.

(Discussion ensues about how best to accomplish Halloween McCain Conceptual Goals.)

(DanC puts down a plate of his bbq wings in front of Jeffrey, who has just arrived.
DanC says this is his food but it seems it was made for Jeffrey, who offers YT a wing.
In the spirit of camaraderie and such, YT eats one wing.)

Jeffrey:
Dan, Nancy needs napkins.

YT:
Why am I ALWAYS the sloppiest eater in the room.

Debate is winding down and Liz and YT begin to attempt to quiet the remaining Sabres fans, who have the wild-eyed looked of victorious fans who've been imbibing since 6:45 p.m. - it is approximately 10:20 p.m.

Liz: (to very boozed-up lady sitting under television)
We're TRYING to HEAR this.

BUL:
WHO ARE YOU ALL VOTING FOR.

YT: (while gazing intently at handsome, more presidential face of Obama)
We were quiet during the Sabres game for you.
(which, when you recall the decibel levels of the fans is rather ridiculous but it gets the reaction intended ... BUL stops mid-word and turns to her fellow fans.)

Obama is last to speak (McCain won the coin toss) and ends on a high note, a soaring speech as Liz, YT, and MKO hold hands (LL left mid-debate to the boos and hisses of YT).

Liz/YT/MKO: (upon Obama's conclusion)
HOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.

YT:
I just got a text from Deb, she says HHHHHHHHOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY, too.

Half the bar at 888 clinks glasses.
Half the bar has already done their clinking.

Everyone is happy.
Debate fans leave bar, and at door turn to AJ to query.

Liz/YT/MKO:
NEWELL IS RUNNING FOR MAYOR IN '09?

YT:
The Middling City NEEDS a mayor unafraid of wearing a headband.

Curtain.

Yours Truly committed an oonsie-boonsie federal crime today.
Kindly stop reading if You happen to be the Postmaster General, a Republican toastmaster bigwig, or perhaps an F.B.I. staffer.
I explicate.
YT's parents happen to be Republicans. She knows of one other, Kennergy.
Kennergy's mail arrived today and YT, eagle-eyed as she is, spotted this return address: John McCain.
And the front of the envelope indicated it was regarding an emergency.
YT ripped open the envelope as quick as her little partisan fingers vote along partisan lines in the polling booth.
Here was a letter from thee McCain, talking about his grassroots effort, the money that Obama did not take from The People (albeit his grassroots supporters), and an urgency.
My heart was inflated to its limits.
He's acknowledging his struggle.
And seconds ago YT also heard that Obama's lead is estimated at 14%.
YT speculated that this was not a real signature but, recalling McCain is a leftie (in stiff hand only), it appears it could be an automatic signaturus veritas.
O, he does address the intended Republican (as opposed to a blue pilferer) as Friend.
Friend is used again in the body of the letter.
YT feels her presidential election year prayer has been answered.

Read aloud, and repeat often.
O God, if there is one, (and I always stipulate that god here is the Life force, not the partisan one trotted out to step on the civil rights of others) please let Obama win.

Onwards.
Love of mail snatching, when appropriate.

Yours Truly owned a hat much like this one (pictured above in the likeness of Christopher Columbus) in the 80s, when just about every self-respecting club-goer had on a hat, maybe some gloves, some boots made for dancing, and perhaps some asymmetrical hair.
It appears that Columbus - thee Columbus - has asymmetrical hair.
Not to mention a dourness that could melt paint off a masthead.
Columbus shoved off his own coast on the ocean blue and, some say, got all confused by the Bermuda Triangle - as well as spicelust - and he went off the charts to land upon the craggy shores of North America.
The rest, as they say, is history.
And a very complicated one that leads to today, the era of devices, imbued in the results of longstanding greed, and the ill effects of plastics.
Of course the heinous treatment of Native Americans of all tribes and colours falls under #2.

On a lighter note, here are some images from the birthday fete of Yours Truly, co-hosted by Cheryl and Liz on the 9th.
Liz made one of her famed punches that packs same, Heady made a carrot cake that was the d/creamiest ever, and the bon vivantness was over the top.
A good party is like cathartic performance art, I am wont to say.
As Yours Truly snapped some via the efficiently micro-mini Leica attendees noted that what had just been snapped was oso not to be published in a farflung manner.
As if epinw is one of those Plumbing the Depths blogs fercrissakes.
I decreed that I was being censored, before seeing any results of pixel pushing, and that my first amendment rights were being infringed upon.
Here is but a smattering.
YT + the Co-Hostesses. YT + Leah and Surprise Guest Dusty (aka Jodi, who jetted in from sunnier lands), and a sample platter from some of the cheese offerings.





Love of History (world, and personal, not in that order), and Cheese.