Oh LOOK...

The Maderer famiglia circa 1974.
Yes. that's me in the center don’t-give-a-fuckily, saucily sticking out my tongue

A stunningly studly corbel seen in Frankfurt (I think).

It’s the weekend!

Not that this means much to me from a work standpoint. Freelancing me graphic designs when the work’s in house. My hallmark/my big selling point is quick response time with fast, good work done to your tastes. (I ain't no Stefan Sagmeister – more's the pity, eh?) So yeah, I work on the weekend. I work while on “vaca.” It’s generally not overwhelming and, for me, this beats all hell out of a 9-5 office gig.

So why do I celebrate le week-end? Jen’s off work, mega chill high tea happens and I feel slightly less pressured to get EVERYTHING done in a 24 hour span.

Fer instance, yesterday I went to the gym, worked out AND had physical therapy, came home and put some more time in on that logo for the local golf club. Then I dove into a seriously gargantuan stack of old photos – what to keep and what to let go of.

These were actual physical pics, taken back in the dark ages before digital cameras. They're from back when I had to hit a CVS or camera store to get the shots developed. Ya know, back when entire rolls were printed – not just the shots worth keeping. Expensive!

After that came the sorting and organizing of the survivors (by subject matter versus date – ya know, Sheep, Cars, Pubs, Interesting Architectural Shit and the like). This was a daunting task as I've, historically, given no more than a hazy, vague nod to systematization.

Bad Donna. No cookie. OK, maybe just one

Irish sheep

Lemme just say this – I’ve taken a lot of shit pics in my day. Some are worth saving – they're not high art but they remind me of a place, time or person who resonates, makes me think, takes me back in time.

Others? OOF – out of focus, poorly lit, meaningless landscapes and street scenes (is this Slovakia? Scotland? Ireland? Germany? WHERE WAS I?) OR one night stands, whose names I never recall. This one in particular – is he  from, possibly, when I was drunkenly prowling around Krakow. Do I rilly need a memento from that episode of poor judgment? NOPE!

NO, I do NOT need these taking up space in my tiny cottage. Nope.

Still every picture tells a story – don’t it?

I couldn't quote you no dickens, shelley or keats
'Cause it's all been said before
Make the best out of the bad, just laugh it off
You didn't have to come here anyway, so remember
Every picture tells a story don't it?

Viennese manticore in snow. Obvs they're chilly and should've put coats on before leaving the house.

Street performers in Stromness (on the Orkney Mainland).

a random canal in Amsterdam