The View from Mudsock Heights: A Tiny Camera Can Make Big Pictures and Do It Well

By Dennis E. Powell | Nov 30, 2009 at 14:13:41

Having been raised as a photographer, I’ve always felt a little vulnerable if I didn’t have a camera on my person. For years I carried a Nikon or Leica film camera with me pretty much wherever I went, often as not along with a big camera bag made by Jim Domke, all crammed full of spare camera bodies and lenses and film and a few filters and more film and a strobe (which is what we used to call electronic flashguns). I didn’t need to go to the gym.

The View from Mudsock Heights: On Winter Nights, When the Universe Becomes Visible

By Dennis E. Powell | Nov 19, 2009 at 23:11:49

One of the best things about winter — yes, there are some — is how clear the sky gets at night.

The View from Mudsock Heights: The Hills Are Alive With Not-So-Cute Cartoon Animals

By Dennis E. Powell | Nov 13, 2009 at 0:33:9

Disney it ain’t. I think you know what I mean: all those lovely Walt Disney cartoon movies, in which the birds flutter lovingly around the sky, and the fawns gambol in the meadows, the butterflies flit about like ballerinas, and the ever-so-cute bunnies and squirrels and chipmunks scurry — the word probably was invented to describe cartoon rodents and lagomorphs — nearby.

The View from Mudsock Heights: The Supernatural Aspects of Computer Parts Justify a Big Collection

By Dennis E. Powell | Nov 7, 2009 at 22:7:35

My little scribbling this week comes to you from a 20-year-old, pristinely restored Northgate OmniKey keyboard. Back when the crust of the Earth was cooling and computing was young, the Northgate company was one of many upstarts that made very good personal computers. What set them apart, though, were their keyboards. They had a pleasant, clicky feel that many users loved. Northgate sold their keyboards separately, but apparently few people then bought their computers, too, so they went out of business. This made having a Northgate keyboard even cooler.

The View from Mudsock Heights: The Change of Seasons Reminds Us We Need to Change Our Spirits, Too

By Dennis E. Powell | Oct 29, 2009 at 22:51:55

It was the first gray, windy, wintry day, a day that could be in November or February. Such days can chill one to the bone, physically but spiritually, too.

The View from Mudsock Heights: Woodland Isolation Leads to Affection for Odd Foreign Television Show

By Dennis E. Powell | Oct 23, 2009 at 0:36:9

Out here in the woods, if you’re going to watch television chances are you’ll get it via a satellite dish.
This has its annoyances — the “local” stations the satellite company chooses are in West Virginia, for instance. I wonder what television news covered there before they had meth lab explosions to lead the newscasts, but never mind. There’s no television at all when it is raining.

The View from Mudsock Heights: I’m in a New York State of Mind, But Recovery is Certain

By Dennis E. Powell | Oct 10, 2009 at 22:27:50

Sitting on a back porch in upstate New York, having coffee and enjoying a beautiful morning, it is as if I’m on a different planet.

The View from Mudsock Heights: Well, I Think She was a Real Folksinger, Anyway

By Dennis E. Powell | Sep 30, 2009 at 23:8:12

The story has it that Townes Van Zandt, the folksinger, was asked how many kinds of music there are. “Two,” was his reply.

Asked to name them, he said, “The blues and Zip-a-dee-doo-dah.”

The View from Mudsock Heights: Autumn Moves In, Pushing Away the Summer that Wasn’t

By Dennis E. Powell | Sep 19, 2009 at 21:59:48

Pity the poor person who doesn’t live in or near a college town. Autumn arrives and all that changes is the weather. In a college town, there is an air of excitement. The energy level increases. It’s exactly the opposite of the normal order of things, where spring is the time of rebirth. For a college town, it is the fall when everything, yes, springs back to life.

The View from Mudsock Heights: The Dust Around Here Proves that Nature Abhors a Vacuum

By Dennis E. Powell | Sep 3, 2009 at 9:38:32

As a public service, I would like to let everyone know that the source of all dust in the universe is apparently somewhere near me.