Now for something entirely different–yes, that title is literal. I shot this via the floor at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. There are several areas where the highly polished floors catch the reflections of the exterior world–and the interior–in the newest section of the museum. Some patience is required for the light, the staff to relax, and floor to cooperate, but there’s always ‘something’ just calling for a click from my Minolta x 700. Never quite know what surprises await on the film. Some times it’s just strange. Other times it’s full of wonder. All depends on your perspective.
More breathing space for everyone feeling boxed in by their cubicles, cars, and crazed companions. Breathe deep, feel the breeze around your knees, and relax.
These documents and others like it are in the public domain. They reside in the National Archives branch in Kansas City, Missouri. They are from Record Group 75. They are posted in order to make them available to people who would otherwise have no access to the information. They are also posted in order to educate and inform others about living conditions on the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, South Dakota, in 1922.
Here’s a songster’s take on the journey of a single styrofoam cup. A song that exemplifies exploring the interconnectedness of all things–including that incredible indestructible substance, styrofoam. KKFI’s Jeanne Jasperse served it up again this morning at 9:27 am. She played the version on the Kerrville Folk Festival Sampler 2009 cd. The players are The Hudsons and the song is truly titled Styrofoam. The artistatexitO ought to have no questions as to why I’m posting it for their listening pleasure today. But everyone else can listen too. Now think about life from the point of view of the last styrofoam cup you sipped from then discarded without another random thought.
Oh to be a styrofoam cup exploring the Gulf of Mexico. What better observer could we ask for?
Well it’s easy to be patient while wondering which and how much of delicious yums can your tum tumble. It’s early morning at Cafe Milano and the humans are hungry. Perhaps a tad more polite than feeding time at a zoo, but just as intent on quieting growling stomachs.
Spying from above the shutterbug aims for worlds beyond Milano’s glass doors. Cars, poodles and people pass on by. A steady streaming across the sidewalk’s screen stage. Down periscope. What is the secret to the allure of Berkeley’s streets?
Laying in wait on the upper floor, shutterbug captures the lone human loitering amidst Cafe Milano’s foliage. One click and this rare book reading endangered creature is preserved for curious future generations reared on hand-held computer textual pods. Ah the days of paper and ink books are counting down even as we post this rare antique film image.
Oh yeah, if it’s morning it’s vice time at Cafe Milano in Berkeley, California. I sure hope this little vice provider is still operational. If anyone can verify that it’s still baking pretty delicious poundage, do drop a post to that effect. If you’re the bearer of bad news, then, well, this is the internet and so far messengers bearing ill tidings are safe from reactionary physical violence. But I do hope that mourning is not in order for Cafe Milano.
I loved the light in this cafe. I adored the views from the second floor down and out into the street. People were friendly and nice to each other even when the line was long and there was a crowd. Management had no problem with my shutter-bugging all day long. Nor did the customers express any paranoia or fears that I might be a would be stalker or some other person with ill intentions regarding their persons or wallets or pastry purchases. Actually, all in all, west coasters from southern California up to Seattle, Washington seemed like much happier folks than those in the so-called ‘heart’-land of the great midwest. Maybe it’s all the sun and ocean surfs? Maybe it’s just their attitude toward every day living? Maybe it’s that they don’t harbor dreads of ice storms and blizzards for weeks on end? Maybe it’s as simple as starting their days off with fully baked fresh pastry. Fully baked, hint hint to all you may as well be raw dough, half-baked self-proclaimed danish and bread-makers so abundant in certain geographic locations. You know who you are. You can keep your mushy, crispless, soggy masses of indigestible dough sagging with fruitless faux jelly. Whoever said that ‘stuff’ posing as pastry was good was just being polite like their mummy told them to be even in a bad culinary situation. It was a lie and appropriate actions should be taken immediately. Start with extending oven times until the pie crust is a gentle golden brown and an intrusive toothpick comes out clean and dry as sun-kissed wood.
There are other cafes and bakeries I adore, but today it’s all about Berkeley’s Cafe Milano and its flakey, crisp, golden chocolate croissants and steaming hot espresso and good vibes….oh yeah.
It’s time for breaking the night-time fast.
Please don’t be shy about sharing your own most loved pastry vices. It’s always good to know what to search for on a road trip.