Jankel's Illustrated World
Of broken eggshells and other seminal phenomena
By: Jankel Jankelbrod

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Saturday, 15-May-2004 00:00 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Datura

 
 
 
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Toxic beauty -- datura. Trumpets, not martially, but soft voiced, more 'Schlafe mein Prinzchen' than 'When the Saints go Marching in' -- heavenly sweetness (never place the pram with your babychild under these trumpets), and luring seduction. And yes, of course, blooming flowers, so tender and beautiful to our eyes, but for the plant itself nothing else than its reproductive organs, to attract insects (form, smell, hidden ultraviolet spots) that must brush off the pollen and transport them to the next yellowish or white nectargoblet.


Friday, 14-May-2004 00:00 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Nightlight

planetrees in sodium light
playing shadows
plane
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Taking photographs in the evening, after sunset, only a slight bit of nightblue in the sky, just before real darkness will engorge every colour, and trying to catch the instant where the last of colour turns into invisibility, turns into black -- that is what I dream of, but it seems to me nearly impossible to visualize the invisible. With todays pictures I am not even halfway of portraying the transgression from coloured light to uncoloured dark. But I tried at least to catch a bit of these evening shadows, which have their own false colour quality -- due to the orange or blue citylights.
A few shadows, a few lights. And maybe soon I will be able to show my first pictures of the very last glowing photon.


Thursday, 13-May-2004 00:00 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Green planet

ivy
Solomon's seal
Alchemilla
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Our Earth is called the blue planet and lookback pictures taken from spacecraft on long interplanetary missions really show a shining blue jewel. But for us, earthbound earthdwellers, the overall impression is that of a green world. Each fertile humid spot is occupied by plants that reflect the light in every imaginable hue of green. The broadleaved the smalleaved the needled the thorned -- green they are, pleasant to the eye, and pleasant to the stomach too, if you think of the chain in which these herbs are converted to the best of beef and the creamiest of cheese.
Today some fresh herbs and grasses; decorative, and seen in this enlargement, impressive too.
I found some ivy, climbing against a wall, I photographed the little bells of the Solomon's seal (the seal being a brownish tarnish in its root), and a still folded lady's cloak. I found some very delicate grasses -- sorry, I never managed to determinate them or to arrange them mentally in some taxonomical system -- the most important thing being their utter prettyness.


Wednesday, 12-May-2004 00:00 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Nocturne de Lure

where is he going?
what is he doing?
sparewheeling
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Seventy young men in bright costumes, long strong legs, tiny light bicycles -- the lightest there are, without lights.
Seventy rounds to go through the streets of Lure. Start at about nine o'clock pm, finish? well that depend of their condition, their legs, their force, their stamina, but reckon they will be in before eleven, after racing around their loops of a little less than one mile each. That is to say, not all of them finish, because it is hard, very hard to stay in the first group, and, once left behind a bit, hardly impossible to jump ahead and attach again. So the group is getting smaller and smaller, till at last they are only twenty or less. And one glorious winner, who races 32 seconds ahead of them all, and wins. What he will win? C'est pour la gloire...
It was not easy to take these pictures wiht my little automatic toy camera, but I hope they can convey a bit of the atmosphere.


Tuesday, 11-May-2004 00:00 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Knitwear

 
 
 
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I have always admired people who, using two thin long pins and a long coloured thread, were able to construct such an airy, fluffy structure, that not only kept my little body warm, but also was pleasing to look at and even a good piece of clothing to identify myself with. And oh, these shops, with their walls filled with colourfull balls of knittingwool, or better such loose bretzels in every hue nature and the anilinindustry has bestowed on us.
Well, most of the time those pullovers and pullunders or however these garments were called, were knitted from rests of the wool that was left from other, greater projects. And so I looked like a multicoloured little tigger or a rainbowzebra.
The other day I saw my daughter sitting on the couch (reading, what else, yes, that book! what else) and I could not resist to catch her gayly coloured top.


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