Being from Buffalo, of course I love the Buffalo connection.
As some of the regular readers of Haddon Musings may have observed, I have of late developed a keen interest in photography. Well, of course, my curiosity led me to reading about women photographers and I was very happy to learn about Jessie who is considered the first woman photo journalist. I think you will enjoy reading her story.
“Newspaper photography as a vocation for women is somewhat of an innovation, but is one that offers great inducements in the way of interest as well as profit. If one is the possessor of health and strength, a good news instinct . . . a fair photographic outfit, and the ability to hustle, which is the most necessary qualification, one can be a news photographer.”
Jessie Tarbox Beals The Focus, St. Louis, Missouri, 1904
Jessie Tarbox Beals self portrait
(detail of Jessie T. Beals with John Burroughs),
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via (x of swords)
I bet almost no one knows this secret: the United States is being watched over by two goddesses! One of them stands on top of the Capitol dome in Washington, D.C. The other stands on an island in New York harbor.
The goddess standing above our congressional building is named Libertas, or Freedom. She’s a Roman civic goddess whose sisters are Concordia and Pax. Although the Romans hardly ever experienced freedom, civic harmony, or peace, they always kept their eyes on the possibilities. Libertas was sometimes merged with Jupiter, sometimes with Feronia, who was originally an Etruscan or Sabine goddess of agriculture or fire. In Rome, Feronia became the goddess of freed slaves. Libertas is shown on Roman coins as a matron in flowing dress and wearing either a wreath of laurel leaves or a tall pilleus, which is called a “liberty cap” and looks like a witch hat…
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I have no idea what this is – have never heard of the author or the title – but just reading this snippet makes me want to read more. THIS is how I want to write.
Nyx sold her womb somewhere between Punjai and Faleen, on the edge of the desert.
Drunk, but no longer bleeding, she pushed into a smoky cantina just after dark and ordered a pinch of morphine and a whiskey chaser. She bet all of her money on a boxer named Jaks, and lost it two rounds later when Jaks hit the floor like an antique harem girl.
Nyx lost every coin, a wad of opium, and the wine she’d gotten from the butchers as a bonus for her womb. But she did get Jaks into bed, and – loser or not – in the desert after dark that was something.
This year marks the 150th anniversary of the publication of a classic read by millions around the globe. Written by Louisa May Alcott, a writer under duress fulfilling the assignment of an insistent publisher, Little Women, in the words of Anne Boyd Rioux is the “paradigmatic book about growing up, especially for the female half of the population.” Her latest book, Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy: The Story of Little Women and Why It Still Matters, tells the story of Alcott’s enduring work as well as its impact on the lives of millions of readers.
Unlike most readers of Little Women, I could not seem to grasp the significance of this book because of my focus on the Alcotts as historical figures. I did not read Little Women for the first time until I was fifty-five so I never had that childhood experience of the story. I…
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