Updated thoughts and images shared on the first anniversary of the failed January 6th insurrection in Washington DC.
"Nectar of the Gods" is a celebration of the refreshing virtues of Diet Mountain Dew as well as the beauty of our nation’s capital region.
I conceived of this photo essay in October 2020 before the presidential election. My goal was to record either how our nation’s capital handled the transition from one administration to another or how Washingtonians would react to the prospect of living four more years with a President who had declared war on the city’s norms. One hundred and nineteen photos comprise this exhibit.
Three times since the November election, I have observed in person crowds that have descended upon Washington DC in support of President Voldemort. And then today the Trump mob stormed the Capitol as Congress was in the process of certifying the Electoral College vote. As the District locks down under a 6:00 PM curfew, I want to share some observations.
Between the Black Lives Matter demonstrations, the ongoing threats to her and her family from the unceasing COVID-19 pandemic, and enforcing the short-lived, horrific PPE Act of 2020, Officer Alexandra Sykes felt broken. The ninth installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”
On the day before Thanksgiving, while on their daily stroll through a section of Washington, DC that this nauseatingly cute, white hipster couple had dubbed the “Death Zone,” Silver Tilley-Blandin turned to her boyfriend Louis Guidry and said, “Your name came up again on the internet.” Thus begins the second installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”
His father explained to him why he had been named after Huey Newton, one of the leaders of the Black Panthers. “Huey knew who he was,” his father told him. “He was comfortable in his own skin. I want you to like who you are because of your skin.”
In her mind, Ingrid divided the tear into three co-equal parts.
Hopper reached for her hand, which she accepted. They gently squeezed hands in a way that reminded her of the same way they had squeezed hands during marriage counseling before their divorce.
Since tweendom, they shared secrets with each other to which no one else was privy. The Tilley-Blandin Sisters Secret File. Every year, over pizza at John’s of Bleecker Street, they shared a single new secret, ranked it compared to previous years’ secrets, wrote them down, and put them in a safe place.