Weekly Photo Challenge: Split-Second Story, Take 3

Like I said, this week’s challenge is right up my alley.

Oh, this week’s challenge is right up my alley. I’ll be posting some I’ve already got, but I’ll be on the prowl for something new.

For this week’s challenge, we want you to become a documentary photographer and attempt to capture a candid moment of a person, place, or thing. Put your National Geographic hat on and tell a story by documenting a moment in time through a single image. Capture the thrill of a skate park, or the calmness of a café patio. Let your imagination inspire and guide you!

It doesn’t matter if you live in a city of eight million people like New York City, or a town of 764 people like Brigus, Newfoundland. There are moments to capture and share.

Final salute

VSCO Polaroid 669

I’m falling in love with VSCO. Long-time readers may recognize these shots – taken on January 3rd in downtown Reno. All were treated with Polaroid 669 from the VSCO 03 pack (instant films).

Polaroid 669- -_-189

Polaroid 669-

Polaroid 669-004

Polaroid 669-049

Polaroid 669-170

Link to VSCO: http://vsco.co/film

It’s a workday

One is sleeping in my lap, one is sleeping on the floor. I imagine you can figure out who is doing what.

As usual, I’m messing around with Lightroom 5 and my VSCO presets.

Fuji FP-3000b

Maya Angelou

Such a loss. I broke down in the car when I heard.

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou, 1928-2014