last quarter moon

The LAST QUARTER MOON occurs on Tuesday, October 2, 2018, at 5:45 AM EDT.

On Tuesday morning, the Last Quarter Moon is exact, when the Sun in Libra squares the Moon in Cancer.

“The Last Quarter Moon phase points to some sort of crisis of consciousness. After basking in the awareness symbolized by the full light of the Moon at the time of last week’s Full Moon, we disperse our knowledge and come to a point when we need to sort out what works for us–and what doesn’t–in preparation for next week’s New Moon, when something new is born once again. This is not the best time to start a major project, as the decreasing light of the Moon symbolizes a descent into unconsciousness. It’s time to begin finishing up the details of that which was conceived at the last New Moon. What revelations did you have last week? What did they mean for you? What can be done now?”
https://cafeastrology.com/thisweekinastrology.html
Kodak 5063 Tri-X film
Photograph by Michelle Gemma

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Seventeen Seconds

1.   “A Reflection”
2.   “Play for Today”
3.   “Secrets”
4.   “In Your House”
5.   “Three”
6.   “The Final Sound”
7.   “A Forest”
8.   “M”
9.   “At Night”
10.   “Seventeen Seconds”

Photo Narrative
“Seventeen Seconds”
featuring Model: Titus Abad
all Photographs by Michelle Gemma
Eolia Mansion at Harkness Park, Waterford,  CT  USA
Photo Captions  from the album “Seventeen Seconds” by the Cure (1980) Fiction Records
I picked up this album in 1992 at the Heathrow Airport in London on a trip with my friend Matthew Hannan, on our way back from a visit to Megen Cox in Scotland.
An important trip as I brought a camera along and shot my very first roll of film, almost completely damaged by the airport x-ray. But the remaining frames, developed with assistance by Matthew Mclaughlin at the first Greenman Collective at Alice Court in Pawcatuck, Connecticut, led to the cover shot for Green, the Red Beard, a book of poems by Hannan, on Hozomeen Press.  Full Circle, here we are, together again at PortFire.

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

12/03/1989

12/03/1989

Walk in Hyde Park today. Cold Day Grey cold and lonely. I have a London cold and am completely stuffed up. What am I supposed to expect would happen? More beer than food. But this is slowing down as I am spending far too much cash.

Hyde Park with bare, black bark, bough bent trees, wilting from centuries of cold destruction, would make a very nice cemetery. I looked for the Peter Pan statue that was erected overnight as a surprise for the kids at a playground, now closed down due to vandalism and too many years of use, but could not find him. Saw Victoria and an amazing elven inn carved out of a great old dead tree 15’ high with little elves and animals painted and carved into it. You just do not see things like that in America, but I find day by day that USA is the place to be whoever whatever you are or want to be.

Tonight’s dinner at Fatso’s Pasta Joint. £2.95 all you can eat. Three bowls, two Cokes and one beer. I fell in love with this very cute blonde girl who I even caught looking at me in interest more than a few times and I do not feel bad about this because I had a dream last night in which I came home 2 weeks early to surprise everyone and found that Megen was seeing another.

Maura had a beer at Fatso’s with a flag of blue with 12 gold stars in a circle and I could not figure it out as it was brewed in France and was written in French. It had a 1992 on it twice.

Back at the flat, I learned thru the telly that 1992 and the flag are symbols of the EEC. 1992 being the target date for full flung single mono-political open market Europe. Propaganda beer, but an OK idea. They are moving too fast towards that goal and many people are not for it, as it is kindda a totalitarianistic goal with total rule down to what to feed the cows. Too much control.

“The Outsiders” on BBC1. Emilio Estevez plays Two-Bit Matthews (2 Bit Matts?). Beer guzzling loud rowdy.

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Parade Season

each spring, as the parades
approached, many veterans
would need to update
their uniforms. a small percentage
are Vietnam Veterans
who discarded their awards
in disgust. an accumulation
of time altered their original
conscription, and now wanted to
participate.
and represent.

the veterans of World War II
did not have to confront
the decision their Vietnam brethren had to.
the Greatest Generation watched over decades,
as their uniforms were desecrated
by curious grandchildren.

“i need a belt buckle.”

“a regular web belt for work?”

“No, a Goddamn USMC buckle in all it’s glory!”

my father in law- who owned the Army Navy surplus store
i found myself working in
had bought 120 USMC Dress buckles
at a trade show years earlier.
there were still a few dozen
in our attic stockroom.

“hold on one minute, i’ll be right back.”

i immediately find a
boxed USMC belt buckle,
and head back down the
rickety stairs from the attic,
to the retail floor.

“how much do i owe you, kid?”

“on the house. it’s the least we can do.”

“awww, c’mon kid, i can pay you!”

“hey- didn’t anyone give you something for free today?”

he raised his head to look directly into my eyes.
i thought i could hear his train of thought.

“a free buckle? a free buckle?”

holding the small
cardboard box
he spoke eloquently

“You are making an old Marine proud.”

he then exits the store.

the sound is congruent
everyone in earshot
was aware of what we heard.

i race to the deck outside the store
as customers are dialing 911
on their cell phones.
when i reach his fallen figure, i ask “are you ok?”

he replied~
“yes, i am.”

a moment later, a police officer arrived as
the first responder.
he walked across the deck
that provides access to the store.

“have you been drinking today?
“no, no, no, sir…..”

“Stand Up….”

the officer plants his hands under
the arms of the Marine Veteran
and gradually brings him
to his feet.

“have you been drinking today?” the officer repeats his question, with
an edge of malice.
i was shocked at the lack of a level of subtlety from the officer.
perhaps they dealt with this “emergency” everyday.

and yet, i decided to speak out:

“hey, take it easy on him….”

the officer held the Marine in the same position and then
slowly craned his neck to look directly at me.

“i’ll let you know when i want you to talk.”

i thought to myself
i would oblige,
and remain silent.

a gathering of EMT’s, firefighters, and police
have gathered at the scene.
they all seem to look at me
with a coordinated
disdain.

“you couldn’t differentiate a heart attack
from a drunk old man?”

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Moon in Capricorn

Signs of Earth

CAPRICORN
featuring Model: Piper Meyers
Coogan Farm
Mystic,  CT   USA
Photograph by Michelle Gemma
new film picked up from the Lab:

120mm Ilford Delta 400 Pro film shot with Mamiya 7 scanned on Epson Perfection V600 Photo

from the new series: Personal Universe, an astrological study starring the model stable of Michelle Gemma (2017-2018)

https://michellegemmaphotography.com
https://michellegemmaphotography.wordpress.com/

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

IRNP 🎵 🎥8x

Isle Royale Music-Only Edit

Here is a music-only edit of the Isle Royale footage – 8x speed, no voiceover

Posted by Victory Garden on Monday, August 6, 2018

💯OC, babe

Interested in seeing the actual travel videos? Let the moderators know!

Thanks for watching!

1999 Transmission: Asheville

I just recently drove out to the serene Appalachian outpost of Asheville, North Carolina.  Heather and I, two yankees in a Camry, pushed out from lowland tobacco fields of Chapel Hill environs, thru the first surprise snowfall of this mild southern winter, and found ourselves climbing round little Carolina hills upwards into the mountains.

Asheville is a tranquil, non-Starbucks kind of village.  Old angled streets hold together worn brick structures that house odd restaurants, damp pubs, and many antique shops.  All the taverns in the town sell Beamish stout. Some let you have a shot of local moonshine.  A peculiar town, more a city, and once a city.

Down in the crevices by the river that once fueled this town, rail tracks lead to storehouses and docks that continue to function.  The city contains no Gap or such, nor anything like them.  The only true presence of corporate white America are the many banks which center this city.  They are of course the largest structures in town.

The new industrial banking buildings, erected in the 1970s judging by their modern efficiency, are entirely out of place here, and like stark white bone, spine and spear the town through its center.  But the axis of penetration is inconsequential.  The only effect these structures has is to make the shadowed walk north of them a little chilly.  The rest of the town has settled into a calm sauntered pace, akin to more eastern and southern Carolina: folks sitting on benches laughing with paper bags full of drink.  Couples kissing in doorways.  An antique shop owner locking up with pizza box and waggy dog, ready to go home next door, upstairs. A damn nice town.

So out twenty miles on a sunny day, at Chimney Rock, I went up thru rock for stories and stories via an old crickety elevator, and stepped out up some stairways and trails up to the top of Chimney Rock, and asked Heather if she would marry me.  And she said yes after I could barely get the words out, stuttering and kneeling and crying and smiling.  Just damn glad for the blue sky and the cold air and just holding her hand beneath the sun.  We didn’t want to come down.  Other folks saw our wet cheeks and knew and smiled back.

How are we to those who have come before us, those who have tread the same surreal lands and cheered with wine and song.  This great shadowplay of ours is vast and illuminated.  We all have our own soundtracks, our own separate angles, glimpses of the sun.  And we all frolic in this new rococo reality of brilliant talkways and perfected machinery that makes up this end of century.

How are we different from those 100 years past?  Their internet was the new telegram system.  They like us were slammed with technology:  the light bulb, the auto, the telephone, the first recording of sound.

We are on the same cusp, coming around the bend towards the future, but are still merely in the rococo phase of the industrial revolution.

We are the twilight of the industrial revolution.

There is something else we must do, besides streamlining the physics of our industry.  There is a next step, there is a place after we perfect cell phones and credit cards and the internet.  A place beyond our fascinations with this magical technology.

Technology was magic to the flappers dancing to the new radio sound.  Magic to the boomer kid in 1962 constructing his own radio.  You’d tinker like a magician to make the magic.  And technology remains incredible as we create new sounds based on  pure mathematics, sounds never heard before, sounds Bach was pained to never have heard.  We forge the magic and forget that it is magical.  We miss the point, the spirit all drained out, as we commit to the final construction, the perfect device.  And then we discard it, and move on to next perfect device.

So where do we go??  What is the end point as we hone in on the calculus maximum of our industrial state??  What do you do when you have achieved perfection, when the last cut has been struck into the granite bust of our time??

We seem so close to somewhere else… post is post.

-Asheville, North Carolina, Autumn 1999

12/01/1989

Slow slow stillness leads me not to write. Comfort. Beer and all just non-stop. Last night Maura, Samantha and Maura’s flatmate Sarah, and I went out and only reached 3 pints maybe when Sam went to the toilet and threw her guts up. Maura followed when we reached the flat. Great beer, tho. Stella something or other, from Amsterdam, as all great things point to.

Boom shanka boom is the song for street walking and tonight even. “Daylight people ought to go home!”

In this crazy Frog and Firkin pub, a gay guy steals my beret, musses my hair, and Sarah feels like shit, so home we go. No tolerance to be found, but I am out with girls night after night and man for some guy talk! “Who is the hottest?” “Samantha” and all all all.

We (Maura, Sarah, and I) went to St. Paul’s today. Amazing. The main dome is about a mile high and has a painting of a higher level with angels and God playing in it. Great.
St. Paul's

I saw Fugazi the other night. Crushed in the crush. But eventually to the stage and my two (get that, two) souls to save from the crush of the pit. Two girls. I put all I had into not letting them feel the pressure of the crushing pit, but that was a kick fuckin’ ass show. And, now Friday, on Monday to see Mudhoney.

All drunk now. I saw Rich M. across the Ashes tonight. Hair all all, smoking what could have been a clove or jibber or Camel, and The Cure, New Order, Smiths, Siouxisie and Talking Heads played all night. I now know that I am no alchy as my last pound went to the jukebox and not the bartender’s boss, but I did steal this dude’s beer that he just let sit there, and even after confrontation I passed it off and left half of it dead laying there dead on the bar and left the place just because the second bell had rung, and I was too and still am drunk and there was no more music and he practically causing a scene.

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

“There is a Light that never goes out”

SCRIPT  FOR  MICHELLE  GEMMA  PHOTOSHOOT

featuring Model: Alycia delosSantos   as my Leo for the forthcoming series: “Personal Universe” (an astrological study of the zodiac featuring twelve models portraying their sign)
today’s locations: House of 1833 in Old Mystic  and the Mystic Hilton in Mystic

“There is a Light that never goes out”

3 PM: arrive at the House of 1833:

You are my Leo goddess queen, and you are invited to the Mansion for a party and you are the honored guest.

We are going to get you dressed up in a fur coat ; in a beautiful vintage backless burgundy dress and you’re ready!

 

You’re ready for the honor,  for the party ; to celebrate and be celebrated!

You show up to the Mansion as expected: you stalk around waiting for it:: you go room and room and it’s empty:

no one is there: the fireplace is not lit.

You change outfits hopeful that the party is about to start:

we were just a little premature:: more stalking; as in leonine prowess::: “what is going on?”


— Nothing


So we go to the hotel for the party:

4 PM: arrive at The Mystic Hilton
There are lights there are people: there is a fire:::

 

You can dance
You can see people and be a lioness.
I keep thinking of the Smiths lyric:
“Take me out tonight
Where there’s music and there’s people
Who are young and alive
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I haven’t got one anymore”
So this is the triumphant realization of our arrival at the hotel:: we are seeing people and we are happy and at peace!

 

 

 

You have fun then at the end we wrap you in velvet swaths and you retreat to your den to relax and to dream:::::

“There is a Light that never goes out”
all Photographs by Michelle Gemma

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With: