It's my hundredth post here on Beirut Pursuit.
Just another typical city patchwork, this one in Gemmayze.
28.2.10
27.2.10
Dangle
26.2.10
Brown on Brown
Art Deco door across from the American Academy of Beirut.
It was the proportions, style, angles of the door that I noticed first. The brown monochrome has grown on me. I also like the bleeding colors over the door. It reminds me of Helen Frankenthaler's soak stain paintings. And the wires going every which way, I like that too.
It was the proportions, style, angles of the door that I noticed first. The brown monochrome has grown on me. I also like the bleeding colors over the door. It reminds me of Helen Frankenthaler's soak stain paintings. And the wires going every which way, I like that too.
25.2.10
Fresh Stuff
Sometimes, taking a picture of something completely transforms it. Such a picture is what Roland Barthes in Camera Lucida would have called "partially true and therefore totally false."
This picture is one of those. The photo reminds me of Edward Hopper--of his painting of a sleepy main street. But the actual place, the physical street where I took the photo, the shop itself would never conjure up that comparison.
This picture is one of those. The photo reminds me of Edward Hopper--of his painting of a sleepy main street. But the actual place, the physical street where I took the photo, the shop itself would never conjure up that comparison.
24.2.10
23.2.10
22.2.10
Dust
21.2.10
20.2.10
Orange and Green
The other day I was on foot in an unfamiliar part of town. I passed a house--one of the few in that part (or any part) of the city--with a little garden behind a wall that ran all around the property. A house with ornamental orange trees.
I've decided that I really like the look of orange and green.
I've decided that I really like the look of orange and green.
19.2.10
18.2.10
Drop Off
Just another site where, soon enough, another high-rise will go up.
One of the things that makes me smile to myself is that in America, any unobstructed drop off would be blockaded immediately--and with something more substantial than a few potted plants(!). Warning signs would be posted. The whole area would be secured--otherwise, it's a law suit waiting to happen.
Here though, it seems a higher level of common sense (or the sense of self-preservation) is assumed. That might not be right, though. Maybe the people who dug the hole, or the people who regulate safety standards at construction sites are relying on luck--counting on bad luck and misfortune striking somewhere other than near this drop off. Or still, maybe they've made no effort to block the drop off because they know that they'll never be successfully sued if someone (even through no fault of their own) falls in.
One of the things that makes me smile to myself is that in America, any unobstructed drop off would be blockaded immediately--and with something more substantial than a few potted plants(!). Warning signs would be posted. The whole area would be secured--otherwise, it's a law suit waiting to happen.
Here though, it seems a higher level of common sense (or the sense of self-preservation) is assumed. That might not be right, though. Maybe the people who dug the hole, or the people who regulate safety standards at construction sites are relying on luck--counting on bad luck and misfortune striking somewhere other than near this drop off. Or still, maybe they've made no effort to block the drop off because they know that they'll never be successfully sued if someone (even through no fault of their own) falls in.
16.2.10
Concrete Collage
15.2.10
Quite Compelled
14.2.10
Well
13.2.10
Time is Etched
It takes time for a building to become what this one has.
Evidence of change over time is etched into every inch of this structure. I mean, it didn't become so amazingly unintentional overnight. There's the closed-up archway on the street level, dangling a hint of bygone days. Above it, the boarded up windows, like a clumsily enclosed balcony, maybe? I wonder why it was altered, and how many years might have passed since the owner quit repairing those darling scalloped shingles.
Evidence of change over time is etched into every inch of this structure. I mean, it didn't become so amazingly unintentional overnight. There's the closed-up archway on the street level, dangling a hint of bygone days. Above it, the boarded up windows, like a clumsily enclosed balcony, maybe? I wonder why it was altered, and how many years might have passed since the owner quit repairing those darling scalloped shingles.
12.2.10
Pieced
11.2.10
More Concrete Blocks
10.2.10
Bold Yellow and Broken
My Beirut Photoblog tends towards dull monochromes. But not today.
All thanks to the dirty back end of a yellow van.
Oh, and my camera is broken. I have an Olympus E-410, and it has refused (repeatedly) to take pictures unless the 14-42mm lense (the only one I have) is at 25mm or beyond. Pout, Sigh, and Grrr.
All thanks to the dirty back end of a yellow van.
Oh, and my camera is broken. I have an Olympus E-410, and it has refused (repeatedly) to take pictures unless the 14-42mm lense (the only one I have) is at 25mm or beyond. Pout, Sigh, and Grrr.
9.2.10
Covered with Vines
8.2.10
Green Gate
I don't have anything insightful to say about this place. All I can say that I like it and that it's typical. Typical gate with typical pillars, typical sidewalk with typical black and yellow posts. A typical street with typical grime. Yeah. And even though I walk past this place somewhat often, the novelty has not worn off.
7.2.10
Cozy
6.2.10
5.2.10
Exhibit #14
4.2.10
3.2.10
Prefab
2.2.10
1.2.10
Wooden Doors, Byblos
This photo is part of the theme day 'wood' at City Daily Photo. Click here to view thumbnails for all participants
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