Abandoned

More haunting abandoned houses, photographed by Dutch photographer Niki Feijen. It's like Detroit, only with old-world elegance. Where did the owners go?

What strikes me: If I walked out of my door today and never came back to my house, it would look in seventy-odd years like the aftermath of a tsunami, not perfectly gorgeous like these specimens.

Also: the television is the jarring note in these photos. Everything else looks timeless, and many of the non-electronic items would probably still function just as well now as they did on the day they were last used. But the television, likely the most futuristic item in any of these dwellings when they were abandoned, looks pathetic and obsolete. There is no grandeur about it. It's just junk.

Be sure to click through and look at the the eeriest photo of all: the figures in church.

Anonymous

Here, by popular demand, is a photo of Anonymous, chroniclers of the kings of Hungary. Sorry about the quality of the picture -- I stood on a kitchen chair and took a shot of it in its frame. But you can still see that the tip of his pen has been rubbed golden from all the visitors who touch it to bring themselves a bit of Anonymous's vast literary success.

Some photos, and a liturgical music post

Music first.

This past weekend was our parish's ministry fair, in which all the ministries set up tables in the parish hall and try to convince the post-Mass-going hordes to sign up for their ministry. My job as hawker-in-chief for the Schola is to "build awareness" so that those interested in listening will know we exist, and those interested in singing (the few, the very few) can be winnowed down to those with the requisite ability. To that end, I utilized my mad calligraphy skillz and made a nice display board, of which I display a poorly-photographed selection here.


My table was in the music ghetto with the tables of the five weekend Mass choirs. I had a CD player set up to waft chant and polyphony to draw in the music lovers. As I stood at my station on my third go-'round, two guys with guitars hustled over to the table next to mine, dedicated to the choir whose Mass had just ended. They started playing some vaguely familiar yet distinctly non-liturgical instrumental. In another moment, another choir member sauntered over and started singing along with the guys in what she must have thought was a soulful, down-wit'-dat sort of style. Although I couldn't understand a word she mumbled, I finally recognized the tune: The House of the Rising Sun. After a while, they switched to Good Riddance by Green Day.

On the other hand, I had more people show interest in the Schola's music after that Mass than after any other.

And some photos:




These are our Greek charts, for the edification of the young ladies here. (Do you know that with a few small adjustments, you can sing the Greek alphabet to the tune of the Alphabet Song? Try it.) We keep them behind the computer so that when the girls sit down to play games, they're really picking up the Greek alphabet by osmosis!

Caption this photo!

This is what happens when technology and big sisters collide. Every time I download the pictures from the camera, there are scads of photos of baby looking rather confused.