The photographs of N.P. Thompson


baubles, candles, cones

Originally posted May 18, 2009

wall of Rs

February 19, 2010
Belmar, CO

medium specificity, or to Hell with Mia Farrow

Recommended reading: this 2017 essay by the late art critic Barbara Rose:

And this recent review by yours truly: my first piece of film criticism in 5 and a half years – re Woody Allen’s A Rainy Day in New York as well as a critique/rebuke of the wolf-crying lies emanating from the disgraceful Mia Farrow, her Satanically repulsive sire Ronan Farrow (Rosemary’s Baby?), and her brain-washed, carefully rehearsed adopted daughter Dylan Farrow – all co-conspirators in a web of abusive deceit directed at Mr. Allen and his wife Soon-Yi Previn. It isn’t only the three Farrows who are dishonest – it is the shameless, low intellect media (Vox, HBO, the NY Times, etc.) that enables them and proliferates their feed-hungry trash. Mia Farrow pretends to be a victim, when anyone with any perception at all can clearly spot her play-acting charade for what it truly, sickeningly amounts to. Mia manipulatively attacks Woody, most of her fabrications about him ripped off from Dory Previn lyrics, whilst she and complicit media say nothing re her convicted child molester brother John Charles Villiers-Farrow.


Christmas at Tiffany

Originally posted Christmas morning 2009.

noir Santa

Ho-ho-ho. Merry Christmas!

merry & bright

Originally posted December 22nd, 2014

the old magic

bright flower

In memory of P.J.S. on her 64th birthday.

in the greenhouse

Initially posted December 2, 2009

sepia sea/interplanetary dream

Originally posted July 14, 2009.

walk into the sea

Originally posted June 24, 2012

watching the waves

Pacific Grove, California, late March 2013

in the red

Fuck Trump. Fuck the mango-wigged, Russian asset pussy cry baby & his fucking enablers, the Senate Republi-cunts.

Defending democracy is patriotic.


Originally posted June 22, 2012

ceilings & feelings

West Cleveland, mid-June 2020

Empire Plow

Last in a series from this depressing place…

Incidentally, while I was snapping this shot, I heard a voice behind me calling, “Young man, young man…” As I’m in my early 50s, I could not quite believe that “young man” was intended for me, but indeed it was, from a character in an orange t-shirt, who informed me that if I wanted something to photograph, he had the very thing in his backyard, if only I would follow him that instant. I respectfully declined.

Advice to photographers: stay away from East 65th Street & Bessemer in Cleveland. Verily, stay away from Cleveland, period.

motor patterns 2

More of the same…

motor patterns

Somewhere in the hinterlands of a post-industrial-era ghetto on the lugubrious east side, somewhere near Slavic Village…


the next voice you hear

Originally posted February 24, 2011

lose yourself in penury

Originally posted May 18, 2009

phases of feeling

Originally posted June 4th, 2009 as “sexual nature.”

Park Slope row

Originally posted March 25, 2009. Date snapped? I’ve forgotten.