Sweeping Up The Splinters

Whenever I hear a knock at the door, I never expect the Spanish Inquisition.

Thankfully, they're not there when I step away from my Godzilla marathon on TV to answer it. It's Ziva, Finland's answer to a very-tiny-but-important question. The diva gazes up at most of me from her tall heels. We've had dealings before, not least of which was what became known in hushed tones as The Istanbul Incident.

Roth! she beams, with something approaching tolerance, We need something from you! By "we" the crazy Finn means her and Mike, Colorado's long-lost Heir to the Dead-Letter Throne Of America. The duo have recently masterminded the 30 Days Of Photography Challenge.

I took part. I broke rules. I didn't care. Ziva told me in no uncertain terms that I was now On Her List. I have no idea what that means, but goshdarnit, it sounds interesting, doesn't it?

Ziva! I smile shyly.

You might be a slacker, my dear Indigo, she shrugs kindly, but we have need of your peculiar talents. As I look blankly at her, she chuckles, As someone very tall once said to me, It's Steam-Engines when it comes Steam-Engine-Time!

I consider this with all due solemnity for a moment.

Eh?

Your outtakes, man! she smiles, somewhat worryingly. You promised us extra photos that you didn't use in the challenge!

I did?

You do remember, don't you?

She shakes her long dark hair and I forget my name for a moment.

So, when can we have them? Now is good.

I have visions of Vikings roaring across the frozen wastelands. I am caught in their bloodied headlights.

Oh, yes, of course. Well, you'd better come in then.

She tap-taps into my hallway and closes the door behind us.

I'll just turn Godzilla off.

There's no need. It turns out she's a fan.

So. Here's my spare photos.

And Instabul? Oh, it was cool. We made bail.


Day 13 – Calm 2

The Mathematical Bridge in Cambridge, sheltering a huddle of sleepy punts. I fail to see how it could get much calmer.

Day 25 – Video 2


This alternate take has some lovely footage of a very cheeky bird.

Day 27 – Kafkaesque 2

Folk struggled with this one. So I'm posting my second. I blame Mike, and so should you; he thought of the damned word.

Day 28 – Autumn 2

"The House was out of time. Every year new leaves fell, but inside their ring the House endured; it was changeless, lost."

Day 28 – Autumn 3

My final photo of this challenge. Weird, isn't it? My favourite tree in Cambridge.

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2012

Dashing For The Line

Can you see it? Look, over there! The finishing line!

Okay, so here we are, poised for me to finish up on the 30 Days Of Photography Challenge. The mutant ankle-biter of bloggers Ziva and Mike, this challenge sets a different topic every day for a month; one topic, one photo, every day.

Two weeks ago, I did the first fourteen days as a single entry. Yes, I'm a foolish lad, with naked ambition.

Last week, I did another seven. Did you hear me roar?

And now, it's time for the back nine. Tiger Woods would be proud.

So now, we're almost done. It's been a blast, kids. By which I mean I feel I've been blown up, shot at, pushed through the wringer and roundly whipped in the course of the month.

But what is life without a few trials?

I Blame Ziva.

You know, I really must get that printed on a t-shirt.


Day 22 – Neutral

"High above the world, the moon looked down. She witnessed everything that happened in the howling dark, but offered no comment, opinion, or intervention. Truly she was a neutral presence."

Day 23 – Underwater

As the light of life faded, the last thing she saw was his face gazing down at her through the water.

Day 24 – M&Ms

Look, for once I have to blame Mike; I'm not foolish enough to blame Ziva for standing with my mouth open. No, Sir.

Day 25 – Video


Listen to the words, people. This line is mostly filler.

Day 26 – Heart

I visited my home town recently, and was dismayed to see much of its centre being demolished to make way for New Things. I was partly dismayed because I am a Mistruster of Things Unproven. But mostly it was because they were tearing the heart out of my town.

Day 27 – Kafkaesque

Look, if you don't understand, explaining it won't help. Like a dog!

Day 28 – Autumn

I'm rather proud of this.

Day 29 – The City

"Beneath a brilliant blue sky, the grey city toiled.
The sky wanted the people to look up, to feel inspired, but they did not.
They continued to look down at the grey tedium of their lives,
And the rough road beneath their feet."

Day 30 – Blackout

Kidnap victim? Kinkster? Or just really bad at putting a tie on?

The choice is yours.

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2012

A True Hiatus Nonsensica

For the uninitiated, pizza is the food of the gods.

It has driven men of faith to move mountains, inspired lovers into new heights of passion, and stirred the hearts of poets.

Better yet, it's good for you! As Homer wrote in his epic poem The Ilead:

Pizza contains all five food groups.

My own thoughts were crystallised in a throwaway comment I made on Facebook recently:

Forgive me father, for I have repeatedly and wantonly feasted on Italian peasant food. With extra jalapeños.

Suddenly, it's 1999, and I'm in the company of a young and erudite iDifficult at our local pizzeria. We're fine looking young men; I'm 6'5" tall and a former varsity athlete, while 'Difficult is comfortably over 6' and has the body of a lean outdoorsman. Yes, really.

We're doing what we've always done best: talking nonsense. Work, technology, movies, gadgets, software, anything. At the time, we did the same job. Yes, it's true; I'm a lapsed programmer. And I was going places, until I was seduced by the allure of documentation: the glory, the women, the beautiful stacks of paper.

A typical bit of nonsense arises; my arch-genius companion brings up a point he'd read earlier. He tells me that the "noted futurist" Alvin Toffler once posited that:

The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write but those who cannot learn, unlearn and relearn

I ponder this, half a mind on the menu. But then, in a rare outbreak of eloquence on my part, I find inspiration:

Hmmm. I think the truly illiterate will be those who venerate success over excellence, coolness over education, and reality TV over just about anything.

My manifesto laid bare. My friend nods sagely and changes the subject.

Our waitress, Miranda, comes over and makes small talk with us. She knows us all too well; we're there as often as not. We order a couple of large meaty pizzas with extra jalapeño chilli peppers. She smiles and heads off to the kitchen.

Our beers and cheese-laden garlic bread arrive soon after, and we continue talking while we eat. It's good, too, just as we like it; plenty of cheese which is slightly brown and crisp. And just as we're on the verge of putting the world to rights, the pizzas arrive.

The conversation stops. A true hiatus nonsensica.

We are struck dumb, both of us. No mean feat on any day.

We have to assume there is meat on the pizzas; we can't see any through the chilli peppers. Each of them looks like a football pitch. Green shredded jalapeños, wall to wall. Miranda smiles and says:

I remember how much you boys like your chilli peppers, so I got the kitchen to add lots of them. I hope you enjoy it.

She takes our stunned faces and silence to indicate awed appreciation. And we do appreciate it; it's a kind thought. And damn, they do look interesting. We mumble a thank you, and off she trots, her good deed for the day done.

It's kind of exciting. And a bit scary, too. We've eaten curries hot enough to melt an icecap, but this is different. These look dangerous.

We approach the food with caution but growing bravado. This turns to enthusiasm as we begin. Man, it's hot, but tasty, and the burn is good. We get through half a gallon of Pepsi Max. Each.

And no morsel escapes us, no crust is left uneaten.

Delighted with our foolish gluttony, we pay the bill tip Miranda handsomely, and head our separate ways.

I hear the following day that my friend is poorly; he vanishes for several days. I am off work for a week. It is agony. But totally worth it.

Ah, the foolish excesses of Youth.

Back in the present, I can honestly say that my digestion has never been the same since. I'd love to say we learned something from it, but I'd be lying. As Marillion notes in their epic 100 Nights:

They say that people live and learn
Some people only live and live

I bless Miranda for her kindness, if not her wisdom, wherever she is.

It was good pizza while it lasted.

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2012

More Bloody Weirdness

You begged me.

You pleaded.

But you know how I am; I'm going to do it anyway.

It's time again for a catch-up on the 30 Days Of Photography Challenge.

The challenge, the hideously-deformed offspring of bloggers Ziva and Mike, sets a different topic every day for a month; one topic, one photo, every day. Last week, I did the first fourteen days in one entry.

Hell yeah, I'm a rulebreaker.

Today? Another seven days. More bloody weirdness.

Actually (that most English of words), I rather like these. Of course, by the time you read this, I'll be behind everyone again; Ziva posts early, the young scamp.

So as ever, I blame Ziva. You can blame Mike if you like.

Anyway, here we go.

Day 15 – My Favourite Food

I was going to photograph it, honestly. But it was so hot and delicious, and demanded to be ravished.

Day 16 - Bullshit

There's important things going on in the world. But we're fed this shit. Bread and circuses.

Day 17 – Coins

The contents of my suit pocket. And it's a rare day; I'm carrying money. Yes, yes, and a nut; shiny, isn't it?

Day 18 - QWERTY

I admit it; I'm unconventional. And a fan of Godzilla; I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Day 19 - Steel

We all like shiny stuff. Even when blackened and tarnished. In the bathroom, though? Look, it works; go with it.

Day 20 - Nails

Yes, I had to squeeze hard to hang onto them; it ended up like a scene from HELLRAISER.

Day 21 – Broken

They're resurfacing my housing estate. Every day, a different road closure. The roads torn up again, bricks everywhere. Breaks my heart.

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2012

An Occasional Gritting Of Teeth

Time is not my own today.

You know how it is; work, family, badgers.

But before I headed off to bed, buoyed by the artistic success from the weekend, I wanted to share another piece of origami with you.

I made this one a few years ago, when I was actively involved in the origami society here in the UK. Times changed, and circumstances meant I couldn't continue, which was a shame. However, while I was on board, a call went out for pieces to go on display in the Japanese Embassy in London.

Yes, quite. The Japanese Embassy in London!

This sounded like an amazing opportunity, a once-in-a-lifetime thing. So I put this one forward, and I was giddy to discover that it was accepted. So, for a week, this was included in a selection of the best origami that the UK had to offer. But in those terms, I am an insect. Some of the work displayed was inticate, beautiful, original. Mine merely needed patience and an element of graphic design.

Each cube is made from twelve interlocking pieces of paper, with three making one corner of the cube. Making two connecting corners was simple enough. Finishing a cube by adding the eighth corner was fiddly. Interconnecting two cubes meant assembling one while interlocking with another; gritting of teeth was occasionally required.

And finishing the loop? Ah heck, you don't wanna know.

I hope you like it. But believe me, the other work on show was better! I'm a hobbyist fiddler, those guys are artists.

But it's all relative, I suppose.

Whatever you can do artistically, creatively - be proud of it.

There will always be someone who wishes they could do what you can do.

Enjoy what's left of your day! Almost the weekend!

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009/2012