55 thoughts on “Wordless Wednesday

  1. I love this Dale!!! It’s so New Orleans. It also reminds me of a neighborhood in London where diplomats live. Toss in a touch of Virginia. The red around the windows…the ironwork. it’s just lovely,
    An eye softener. We look for those…:)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Q,

    The orange is what brings you in and while I love it in this photo, I wouldn’t be down with having it on my crib. Even though I dig on the Miami Dolphins, nah. The purple is nah but the black (?) in the foreground would be to my taste, as a lover of Poe, of course.

    As a photograph, you framed it perfectly by having the “sun” in the middle with the dark outer limits bordering that colorful punch. And I only know what in the hell I am talking about as far as the colors go because of my artist friends who taught me as much. As far as photography goes, all I know for sure is this was the perfect launch angle for a shot. πŸ™‚

    B

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    • B,

      My favaourite colour is orange yet I would not necessarily want it on the outside of my crib either. I did have two orange walls in my former dining room with white wainscotting that I adored.

      I thank you for appreciating my framing and for your artist friends teaching you about stuff – that I know nothing about but just was stopped by the show of colours and snapped. To think this has been my backup picture for your WW for weeks and I only now dared used it.

      Q

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      • The white wainscotting sounds like the ideal compliment for such an outrageous (cool) color. I keep it dark or red, all Vincent Price and such.

        You go on instinct, which is where the great stuff happens. I needed that 411 from those peeps in order to understand. Hells, before they came along I thought Warhol was overrated. And after? He’s a God to me.

        Welp, it’s like the backup singer that finally gets a shot and hits it big. Same diff. πŸ˜‰

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        • It was lovely… and my dining room in my last house was read so. yanno.. πŸ˜‰

          I do. I have no idea what I’m doing, to tell the truth. I like something, I take its picture.

          Speaking of Warhol, Rochelle’s FF is on him based on my pic. How do you like them apples?

          Love that analogy. Woop woop de woop woop (back up singing…)

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          • Your dining room was read? As in well read? πŸ˜‰

            I can see red in a kitchen. Why? Because I had it in my kitchen, LOL. It’s funny how different minds bring the color into play, I think.

            Andy Warhol snapped thousands of photographs. What made him hone in on a particular one and break it down into a beautiful science? Instinct. You got it or you want to have it. You got it.

            Nice Goodwill Hunting reference. But I ain’t got a liking for Bahstahn, LOL.

            No more songs in my head. My voices just came back, and they’re pissed!

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          • Oy… Thanks a lot…

            I loved my old kitchen and dining room. I already miss it like no tomorrow. Yes. Red – so many shades, so many emotions.

            Wow… ya think? I’m completely chuffed.

            I wouldn’t mind visiting the joint, though…

            Buahaha!! Please. no more songs!

            Liked by 1 person

          • Hey, I caught it! And you’re welcome.

            I miss my copper tiles from that kitchen. Because I could have sold them on eBay. Those little fuckers go for a pretty penny!

            Chuffed I tell you. She is chuffed! πŸ™‚

            No more songs. I’m good with that.

            Liked by 1 person

          • Ya coulda done like a little email thing and I coulda corrected my type but hey… we good.

            Oooh. That must have been right cool.

            She is.

            None. Well, unless we are in the mood for some tunes

            Liked by 1 person

          • Yeah but still. Most peeps are like me, even if they don’t admit it. They don’t read comments, or at least they don’t read all comments. And besides, even for those who do, its so arcane. And arcane is so Alfred Hitchcock.

            Right cool. So very. Kicking myself still. I don’t miss the house. But I miss the rug and I miss those tiles. Lots.

            Chuffed is a good word. It’s like a literary pillow.

            I can’t even say tunes or one might come hither.

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          • This is true. Most.

            I can well imagine. The things we lost in the ….. fill in the blanks here.

            It is a great word! I love it. It so encompasses a certain feeling that no other word feels belongs.

            Shhhh

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          • Well, I ain’t got no science in that statement, as I have no rightly idea. And I ain’t ever really thought about it neither.

            I miss the Japanese Maple in the back yard. And that’s it. If I could extricate those three things from my former residence, I’d be plenty fine. And hey, I technically COULD extricate the tree and the tiles from my former residence without too much hassle. But shit, I just admitted as much so never mind. I ain’t going down like that. LOL.

            It’s comfy!

            Like

          • ‘Course you didn’t coz you don’t do it. And that’s right fine. It works for you and that’s all that matters.

            I miss my lilac from my first house. And that bastid that bought my last one? When I asked him if I could have a bit of the rhubarb he didn’t even answer me. That came from my mother’s house, to my old house to this last one… Imma have to go “liberate” me a section in the middle of the night… unless he pulled it all out…

            It is!

            Liked by 1 person

          • I learned my lessons well, let’s just say that. Even if it did take some time for me to learn my lessons well, LOL.

            Fuck him.

            The lady who bought my place was very nice. I ran into her sometime after selling and she invited me over to see the place. I said I would, but there was no way. I wasn’t going back.

            It can be done. Plan first. Second. Third. And then keep doing it until you get sick of lecturing yourself on how to go about it. At this point, you are ready to venture into the wonderful world of trespassing. Or as I like to call it, exploring.

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          • That is how it works, eh? We learn, we change, we adapt. πŸ˜‰

            Fuck him.

            That was sweet of her but I so get it.

            Oh, I know it can. WE drunkenly liberated plants with my departed friend Patrick…

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          • Yes.

            Nope. Never can we…

            It was. Oh my gawd we killed ourselves laughing. And I was so pissed at myself that I forgot to mention it in my tribute to him. That’s what happens when you are zero organized like me.

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