I have a somewhat embarrassing confession to make about this photograph. I know that I made it in a church in the Belgium town of Ghent… but I failed to record which church it was! In my (weak) defense, this is a town of many churches — I don’t think I’ve seen many others with so many steeples. And after a few weeks of visiting Various European cities it is possible that I was starting to suffer from an overdose of church architecture.
Continue reading Church Interior, Ghent
One thing that appeals to me about street art (and not everything about it always does!) is how it “lives” where it was made. It is created by people using a variety of media: paint, ink, paper, glue, you name it. They leave it behind on its own where it deteriorates, may be defaced, gets added to, and eventually is covered by someone else’s creation. Someone creates it, but the eventual effect is often out of their hands.
This sign, or what remained of it, was taped to a steel roll-up door along a Brussels street. The “NOW’ remains emphatic in all-upper-case and red, but what it was that was so timely is a mystery since the upper portion has been ripped. A closer look reveals a few more details that may (or may not) provide some clues.
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G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” (Heyday Books) is available directly from him. Blog | Bluesky | Mastodon | Substack Notes | Flickr | Email
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This is a small section of a wall in Brussels, Belgium. We passed it while out on a very long (almost all day) walk through the city. I’m fascinated by walls like this one, where layers of personal messages and markings have built up over time, juxtaposed in sometimes-surprising ways to produce a kind of found art.
These things often consist of some combination of actual “art” (often small, personal drawings), bits of text including tags and quotes, random smears of paint, remnants of paper fliers in the process of weathering and falling off. They become short-term time capsules as layers build up, with the newest material on top and the oldest visible through the newer materials in places.
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G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” (Heyday Books) is available directly from him. Blog | Bluesky | Mastodon | Substack Notes | Flickr | Email
All media © Copyright G Dan Mitchell and others.
Needless to say (though I am saying it anyway!), for Californians, Chicago around Thanksgiving seems like a very cold place. (I can imagine Chicagoans shaking their heads and muttering, “Come back in January, California boy!”) To be truthful, we had very nice weather for late November: overcast, but daytime temperatures into the 40s and only a little bit of light rain. Yet, this photograph just looks cold to me!
We had been out for a walk and as we passed the entrance to the Art Institute of Chicago, I decided to use that building (on the left) to frame the early evening sky against the skeletal trees, and set against the other buildings along Michigan Avenue.
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G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” (Heyday Books) is available directly from him. Blog | Bluesky | Mastodon | Substack Notes | Flickr | Email
All media © Copyright G Dan Mitchell and others.