The Trouble with Mannequins

Window Mannequins | Mark Lindsay

Window mannequins have always seemed creepy to me. Actually, all mannequins give me the willies—but the ones in windows are especially scary. They stare back at me with that frozen smile and those cold, cold eyes. It’s as if they all share some secret, mannequin-world joke that they’d never reveal to flesh-and-blood humans. I don’t know why shop owners resort to using them. Who wants customers coming into stores shivering with goosebumps?

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Suburbia: Mundane and Monumental

Suburban Sign | Mark Lindsay

It is a grand notion to think of suburbia as being monumental. Normally perceived in daily life, it seems like a monotonous parade of one block after another, one lawn after the next. If one is attracted to the grandiose, suburbia can often be numbing.

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Unintended Treasures

Woman and Sign, San Francisco | Mark Lindsay

The city, San Francisco or most any city, is full of small, fleeting treasures. Riches are everywhere—little vignettes of joy, intrigue, and ephemeral pleasure that compel me to click the shutter of my camera. Many are haphazard collections of life’s serendipity. Most affirm my belief that the cosmic powers that run this universe of ours have a very good sense of humor.

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A Shimmering Morning in San Francisco

Reflections in a Salsicceria, San Francisco | Mark Lindsay

Each city has its own way of wrapping itself in light. It's as if the places we inhabit were lit from within. Venetian light is famous for its pearlescent quality; its mystery, and intrigue. It is the light of Titian and Tintoretto, of medieval spies and foggy nights. There is no one set form to this light, it has many variations to its misty theme. But, once you see it, you know it forever.

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The Ghosts and a Ticking Clock

Fog at Fort Point | Mark Lindsay

Three weeks in Venice is hardly a long time. But, at the start it felt that way. I fooled myself with the illusion was that I'd be there forever—that I was there for good. But, three days later I found myself counting. I was secretly counting the days until the arrival of my sad departure. I shook this diabolical countdown off with a shudder. But, it didn't work. The little clock continued ticking away in my brain and then chimed in again the very next morning.

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