That’s not the Hilton you’re lounging in.

So, I live nowhere near the Rhine, have yet to sell an image of mine as a singular piece of art, and have never printed anything larger than 36×54 inches.  There is an artist, Andreas Gursky, who, expressing himself in the medium of photography recently sold a very simple yet profound image of the Rhine river on a cloudy day for, get this, $4,338,500.  The piece is titled Rhein II (Hey, I’m a link to the aforementioned image.  Please click me.) and will leave you bewildered as to why some one would drop this amount of coin on such an image.  It is printed at the massive size of 6×11 feet and does not come with a Ferrari.  Anyway, here’s my highest form of flattery, in a Wisconsin fall interpretation, to such an astonishing feat of photographic, artistic capitalism to date.

As the days get shorter and shorter it becomes more and more difficult for me to wait for the last minute to take my picture of the day.  The night encroaches on my procrastination and I’m left scrambling to avoid taking a picture inside the house.

Just a reminder to all of our blog stalkers and followers of the 3-6-5 series, this Friday evening we are having a wine tasting and a “half-way-there” showing of the 3-6-5 images.  Many of you may know that my good friend and colleague, Carol Grant Stevens of the fabulous Artists’ Eyes Photography has also been participating in the daily madness of project 3-6-5 since May with me.  So come Friday evening, if you’d like to see our progress thus far, are looking for some fellowship, a drink or two, or just plain bored with Friday evening television come on by.  The showing will be held at the Artists’ Eyes studio at 113 E. Washington St., Slinger, WI from 6:30 til 9:30.  All prints on display will also be for sale – they make wonderful, one of a kind gifts for any loved one.

I can’t bring myself to cut down the dying prairie in my side yard.  There is a beauty in the seasonal death and promise of a springtime resurrection to come.

Shades of khaki replace variations of green.

I may have finally given into the pressure of acceptance.  Like a slow moving virus defeating any last resistance in the body, the chill advances.  The time for complaints and nostalgia for all things sunny and warm are over.  There is a distressing serenity in surrender.

Can’t say this one is a ‘Mach’-like composition, but I can say that “These go to eleven.”  Happy 11/11/11.