The photographs of N.P. Thompson


Reed Hall in winter



eye on Midtown

Summer 2015


drive-by lunch

shadowed return

except perhaps in spring

snow and the cathedral

open any door

In memory of P.J.S. on her sixty-first birthday.

afternoon rise

vase in the elevator

puzzles & dreams, iv

Originally posted March 4, 2012

call me by my name


In memory of P.J.S. on her sixtieth birthday.

afternoon in the Pearl

afternoon in the Pearl



Jem Studios and Galleries

Jem Studios and Galleries

Woodruff Quartet

Woodruff Q2

unattended crossings

unattended crossings

See also: pinned.

the Hannon eye

the Hannon eye

the jitterbug waltz


“Arbus’s work is a good instance of a leading tendency of high art in capitalist countries: to suppress (or at least reduce) moral and sensory queasiness. Much of modern art is devoted to lowering the threshold of what is terrible. By getting us used to what, formerly, we could not bear to see or hear, because it was too shocking, painful, or embarrassing, art changes morals—that body of psychic custom and public sanctions that draws a vague boundary between what is emotionally and spontaneously intolerable and what is not. The gradual suppression of queasiness does bring us closer to a rather formal truth—that of the arbitrariness of the taboos constructed by art and morals. But our ability to stomach this rising grotesqueness in images (moving and still) and in print has a stiff price. In the long run, it works out not as a liberation of but as a subtraction from the self ; a pseudo-familiarity with the horrible reinforces alienation, making one less able to react in real life. What happens to people’s feelings on first exposure to today’s neighborhood pornographic film or to tonight’s televised atrocity is not so different from what happens when they first look at Arbus’s photographs.”

—Susan Sontag, from “America, Seen Through Photographs, Darkly”

(italics mine)

dark palms

dark palms


In memory of P.J.S. on her fifty-eighth birthday.

white sofa

white sofa

work shop live die