18 October 2012

Restoration Project

This is a section of Diego Rivera's massive mural depicting all of Mexican history. It is located in the National Palace in Mexico City, a photo of which follows.

Until I was sixty years old, I had never taken any photos to speak of. There seemed always to be women around doing that. In late 2007 I took off for Paris, France, on the spur of the moment to spend a week there while the lawyers finished up the paperwork to complete my last divorce. I signed them on my return. My eldest daughter lent me a pocket camera to take with me. Since I was alone in Paris, I spent my time taking pictures. I treasure those little photos.

So it was that before I decamped for Mexico in early 2009, I purchased a Canon Powershot, my own pocket camera, to take along. My first year in Mexico was a revelation. In the midst of that revelation, I pointed the little camera and shot often. Point and click. That is all it was. The photos posted in the early days of this blog show that clearly. Those pictures are awful.

Since then I have learned more about taking and developing digital photos. Recently, I started an attempt to make some of those early photos more presentable. I will post some of these "restored" photos occasionally and reminisce about that first year in Mexico. "Restored" is not the correct word for what I am doing. The photos were never worth a damn in the first place, but you understand what I mean. The photos on this page were taken 21 December 2009.

There is a reason for this reminiscence right now. I shall explain that in the next entry. Today is Thursday, I think. It is Thursday, is it not? Laura comes to clean the apartment later in the morning. As many of you already know, Laura does not want me around here while she cleans. I must shower and clear out. I fear Laura's wrath.

A section of the mural depicting the Spanish Inquisition.

A section of the mural depicting Tenochtitlan, the great Aztec capital as Cortés found it and then took it in 1521.

A section of the mural depicting the torture of the indigenous people by the conquistadores.

That, I am pretty sure, is the lady Cortés married, calla lilies behind her head. But I do not have time to look that up and check. I must shower and get out of here, lest I incur the wrath of the young Mexican lady, Laura. I will check it out later.

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