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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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W. J. Lee,
62 State Street,
Rochester, N.Y.
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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WHIPPLE
96 Washington Street,
BOSTON.
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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PHOTOGRAPHED
by
GILES BISHOP
22 State Street,
New London,
Conn.
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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J.D. VICKERY,
Photographer,
Bath, N.Y.
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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New Project
Recently I acquired two albums full of photos dating late 19th century to early 20th century. From the labels as well as photographers/company names, it can be determined that these photographs were taken in New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut. Most of these photos however are not labeled or printed.
I do not claim any rights to owning these photos, (Well, other than actually physically owning these photos. I did after all purchase them.) but in regard to creative ownership to the photographers, or the families which these people are a part of, I do not.
Either way, I will be taking as much time as needed to uploading these photos at the best quality that I can. I hope that you guys enjoy. Maybe possibly comment what sort of photos you enjoy seeing and let me know.
Unfortunately, at the quality I'm scanning these photos in, (averaging about one gig a photo) I won't be able to upload them due to the upload limit being ten megs. Instead, I will upload quickly made jpegs and in the event anyone would like a copy of the higher resolution scan, let me know. I check my mail regularly.
-Braincrab
08/15/2014
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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On Courage
We all know what courage looks like in our TV and video games or even our books. It’s the badass cop with the gun, the green clad guy with the sword, the mother protecting her children.
Very few of us will have the chance to perform similar feats though, and when it comes down to it, is that courage or bravery? What’s even the difference?
For the rest of us, there is courage in the small things. In finally talking to that person you’ve had your eye on for weeks, in starting that new exercise, in trying new foods.
Sometimes, it’s hard to tell which choice is more courageous. Does it take more courage to say what you really feel, or to hold it in so you don’t hurt anyone? Is there even an answer?
As much as being courageous is valued, being meek is much easier. After all, it’s those with courage who take the most risks and therefore get hurt the most.
Either path has pros and cons no matter what the situation.
What will you choose?
-eggbutt
7/30/14
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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Hide and Seek
Hide and seek is something it's safe to assume most of us enjoyed as a kid. Trying to find the trickiest places to stuff ourselves, hoping we'd be the last to be found, laughing quietly to ourselves when someone else was outed was all great fun.
It's quite a different story when you play hide and seek with yourself. Inside your mind of course; it would be rather difficult to hide your corporeal self from yourself. How deeply can I shove this thought? you wonder, while another part of you tries to find it anyway.
You hide many things from yourself, burying them deeply so you rarely find them. Finding them means admitting them. Admitting them means doing something about them.
And you hate taking action.
Not to mention you're clueless what to do.
So you keep trying to hide, but you can't stop the seeking part of your brain. When it finds these things, you wave it off, but can't help but dwell. If you only had some courage you could address them and stop playing these games with yourself. If only this, if only that, if only things were different, if only you had more time - it doesn't matter the excuse, as long as you don't have to deal with it at this moment.
Your excuse lets it hide again, diving even deeper into your self. And with every time you find it, it's even stronger for the time spent away.
And while I as the author of this may have one thing in my head causing me to write this, I'm sure all of you had your own connection to it.
We may grow out of purposely playing our childhood games, but we never stop it entirely.
Not if we are willing to admit it to ourselves.
-eggbutt
7/20/14
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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Motivations - Better for Who?
As relationships continue to change and people come and go in the months before college it’s hard not to question the whys of both myself and my peers. Why we choose to continue with some people over others, why things turn out the way they do, the rationale behind everything.
I see long standing couples break up and appear to be unruffled. They claim it’s for the other, for the best. They save the drama of doing it while in college, and can start anew without hurting the other person. To me, it doesn’t make sense. How can you stop having feelings for someone that quickly? Or are you just hiding it? For the sake of who? You? Your now ex?
Friendships was and wane as people prepare to move states away from each other. Why some over others? Is anyone who says “it’s for you” telling the truth? Friends that were never close before grasp stubbornly onto each other; ones that seemed inseparable drift apart without a second thought.
It’s not just other people. I see myself doing it too, without even thinking. A friend who is afraid of change, I push away even more. I tell myself it’s so that they can get used to the idea I’m leaving before I’m actually gone. I am going over seven hours away; they’ll still be living at home. They need to get used to it. Or am I just being cruel?
A very close friend, I see drift away. Part of me wants to fix it, part thinks it’s good for them. Give them a chance to find better friends, ones that aren’t always conflicted about what they want and if they should be there and how they feel and why is it that after all this time they still show up in dreams. When they try to talk I don’t know how to respond, don’t know how upset they are at me, don’t know if there’s a point. Is it for them, like I tell myself, or for me?
Friendships grow over the internet, peak for a few weeks, fade without communication or attention. To many people, lack of constant contact indicates no desire to continue a friendship. From my end, it means I’m scatterbrained and can’t keep track of where I put my headphones and keys never mind remember to answer people because I’m dumb. I try to explain this, but end up sounding like even more of an asshole.
You say someone’s better without you, but did you think to ask them yourself? Of course not. You assume you know what the other person needs.
And by you I mean me as well. Just as much if not more of a hypocrite. Don’t worry.
-eggbutt
6/25/14
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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I've only had my kitten for a few days, and already he's learned where it is to find the best place to sleep. (while still being contentious.)
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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Ran into this little guy today on my adventure along the Erie Canal.
-Braincrab
06/06/14
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admissionsprogram · 10 years
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Success
Success --noun 1. the favorable or prosperous termination of attempts or endeavors; the accomplishment of one's goals. 2. the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like. 3. a performance or achievement that is marked by success, as by the attainment of honors: The play was an instant success. 4. a person or thing that has had success, as measured by attainment of goals, wealth, etc.: She was a great success on the talk show. 5. Obsolete , outcome. We hear about it, strive for it from a very young age. Yet these definitions mean nothing to us as individuals. Because, as it is, success is completely different for each and every one of us. First of all, there are innumerable areas of success. The first thing that we think of is in the workplace; a successful career. Even so, what makes a successful career? Some want a lot of money out of their work. To them, rising to the top of their field and earning a higher salary means that they have been successful. But that's not the only way of thinking about it. To other people, a successful job means helping people out. Maybe their goal is to make enough to support their families. Maybe - get this - to some people, it means actually enjoying their work. Not to mention the hundreds of other areas of success and the different ways one can achieve them. Romantic success? Maybe you want a partner to commit to by twenty five. Maybe romantic success is finding someone who loves you for who you are, no matter how short or long it lasts. Maybe it means not falling into the abusive patterns you've seen others you know fall into, or staying true to yourself even if it means staying alone. One person's success may mean a mansion with a church inside and a school and workers and all of the like. It could mean starting a company, doing research, saving lives. It could include a wife and kids, or whatever family this person desires. Somebody else's may be simpler: an apartment with a dog, a simple job doing something you enjoy, not relating to somebody else being there or not. Another person's success may mean getting an education; yet another's, surviving the day. So before we go off pushing kids to reach success, how about we take a step back? The youth constantly hear day in and day out what they need to do "to be successful." But how are they - how are we - supposed to achieve something that we don't understand? How can it be a single track to success when there are so many variations of it and everyone's definition is different? Before we can take steps towards the always-coveted success, maybe we need to learn what the hell it is in the first place. What it means to each and every one of us. -eggbutt 3/26/14
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admissionsprogram · 11 years
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Dreams, Nightmares, and So on
Firings in your brain as it tries to process information while you sleep.
Symbols to be interpreted and analyzed.
Messages from beyond.
Whatever you think of them as, dreams are there, and they're not going away. Every night you have at least one, whether it lasts longer than a few seconds of not, whether or not you remember it.
But having dreams is like playing the lottery. Many will make next to no sense; some will be utterly mundane; a few might even be good. If you're unlucky, you'll end up with more nightmares than dreams. If you're really unlucky, you'll have them every night for over eight years.
But what the hell are they? Where do they come from? And why the frick are the bad ones called "nightmares"? Was there a superstition about female horses and the moon or some shit? But I digress.
The point is... that there is no point. There is no reason why one night you may dream of sugar plum fairies, and the next of Cthulhu eating the world. Thinking about a certain topic before bed does jack. Trust me. Over those years, I tried it all. And in the end, when it comes down to it, you have no idea what you're going to get during your time asleep. That's the beauty of dreams, and the horror of dreams.
In those moments before our consciousness drifts off, we hope for dreams mirroring the day dreams we entertain during the day. We think of happy, or amusing, or interesting things in the attempt to bring them to our full visualizations at night.
Hell, we could have the best day ever, and still dream horrible horrible things. I don't know anyone who lies in bed (or wherever they choose to rest) thinking "you know what, I'd love to have a nightmare about my family's dead rotting bodies surrounding me." Yet those things happen. Or perhaps it's just me, I don't know. Either way, if our thoughts before bed dictated our dreams, we wouldn't have to worry about these random attacks of fear.
As unbelievably shitty of an experience they may be though, we can find ways to grow even from these scenarios. From running into my parents' room seeking comfort, to refusing and instead crying myself back to sleep so that I would not bother anyone, to devising my own methods to distract myself whenever I woke up in a cold terror, usually including moving somewhere else for the rest of the night - even if only the floor - to remove myself from the situation, I learned that as I could find no way of beating the near-nightly terrors, I could only find a way to roll with the punches.
That doesn't mean that they don't return though.
That doesn't mean that after not having issues for over a year, they can't just reappear at the most inopportune and embarrassing times. Hell, maybe they'll even surface in front of someone else, where you don't remember anything, only the panic as you wake up. But what can you do? Try to keep quiet, try not to disturb, fail at it, who knows what people think of you, maybe you're a baby, you swear it's not your fault, who needs human comfort you have a pillow? Thoughts don't need to be orderly at this point, can't bear to be.
It makes you appreciate the good ones more though. Whether they make sense or not, whether they leave a bittersweet taste of being impossible in reality, after forgetting what "sweet dreams" are like you can't help but hold onto them even tighter.
Because, we're all supposed to follow our dreams, right?
And if those dreams aren't worth following?
We keep going back to sleep until we create some that are.
-eggbutt
3/2/14
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admissionsprogram · 11 years
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Takeoff
I’ve been in the plane for about an hour. The Legend of Zelda 25th Anniversary soundtrack unfolds through my earbuds as I read Michio Kaku’s Parallel Worlds. These specifics stick for some reason. The plane is being covered in de-icing…stuff…which is why I’m taking so long to take off.
The Twilight Princess symphony - my favorite song on the album, encompassing my favorite game - starts to build as the plane’s engines begin rumbling. I close my book, content to feel the machine under me. As we build speed down the runway, the music crescendos, reaching a peak as the front wheels leave the ground. It is too perfect to be true, and yet it is.
I read a little more, then give up and watch the sky like I always do. I took off in the beginning of sunset, and by now the sky is rainbow. The last vestiges of a brilliant red sun barely peek above the horizon, surrounded by a halo of crimson. It fades through orange to a golden yellow, followed by that pastel green only seen at rare sunsets which always reminded me of lime sherbet. The thin green stripe gives way to a piercing version of what we consider ‘sky blue,’ and above that the sky deepens. The rich blue-purple only seen by one above the clouds at sunset is something I have never been able to recreate on the ground.
I try to capture the image in my memory: the rainbow sky, the rolling clouds - so gloomy from below - reflecting bits of pink in their dusky waves. I try, hoping to capture it well enough to paint later. I fail before I can try, knowing I do not have the skill even if I could remember. I try, even now attempting to put into words the perfect calm I felt at that moment while observing the ever-present yet oft-ignored ceiling above us.
I wish there was someone there with me that I could turn to and share this without words. One, possibly two, maybe even three I know would appreciate the sight and know my silent meaning well enough to communicate without communication.
I have a stranger next to me.
Turning back to the window after the split second examining my neighbor, the sun is fully below the horizon. The sky quickly fades, along with my song. The moment has passed and will never be regained.
I open my book again and go back to reading.
-mypreciouseggbutt
2/23/14
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admissionsprogram · 11 years
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Capturing Infinity
Take the graph created by y=1/x and look at it from x=1 as it stretches to infinity. If you try to measure the area under the graph, you get, as expected, infinity. The integral does not have a finite answer. Those of you that have not taken calculus will have to believe me on this.
However, if you take this infinite area and create a solid by revolving it around the x axis, something incredible happens. This infinite 2D shape somehow, through the magic of calculus, becomes a 3D solid with an area of pi. The surface area still manages to be infinity, creating quite a problem for our brains to wrap themselves around.
This solid, named Gabriel’s Horn, makes next to no sense. But the math is right there and it doesn’t lie.
Think of how this can make sense in our lives though. Each and every one of us, nearly infinite in our thoughts, any cross-section of our brains nearly limitless in the amount of connections it can make. For my purposes, an unlimited, infinite number. Who we are and how we relate to everything else is immeasurable.
Yet, take these ‘flat’ thoughts, and make them 3D. Revolve our endless thoughts around the x axis, and they can be held in a finite volume. Gabriel’s horn may not be a horn after all, but our brains.
A symbol of how we indeed can capture infinity.
-mypreciouseggbutt
2/12/14
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admissionsprogram · 11 years
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Yellow
When I was 13 I wanted to paint my room yellow. Not any yellow either, I wanted the most vibrant yellow possible. I never knew how to choose a colour when I was asked about my favourite colour, when really cornered into answering, I usually said it was yellow... Yellow is bright and alive and generally evokes a positive reaction so I wanted my room to be a colour that would make me happy. I always was made to believe that happiness was important and I wanted to surround myself with it.
But I have learned that happiness is highly overrated. I wouldn't go as far as saying it's unnecessary or irrelevant, but it sure as hell isn’t any more necessary than any other emotion. Happiness is just as important as loneliness, as curiosity, regret, shame. Too often they are misunderstood and so happiness has become the posterboy of all emotions, the socially acceptable state of being. It is the most encouraged and most sought after because it is the easiest and most comfortable to experience. But your parents forget to teach you that the marvellous spectrum of human emotion embodies so many biological reactions and conscious states that are subjective and influenced by so many variances... So how could happiness be the only one that means more than the rest? As if pain and jealousy and grief and courage and lust and shyness are just lesser moods and impulses that can be funnelled into a sewer of emotions that are inferior to happiness. Who are you without your fears? What are you without passion? Why should you only indulge in happiness?
In my mind, I have cried in this yellow room. I have made love in this yellow room. I have hidden in this yellow room. I have felt the ache of voids deepen when looking leaning against these yellow walls that remind me of the happiness I feel detached from. I have woken up to their warmth from nightmares of confusion.
Colours, like emotions, are multifaceted... And the power that comes from understanding sorrow should never be overlooked for happiness.
- Bird 12/02/14
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