As far as the content of my photograph albums goes, I think they turned out pretty well. I haven't ever had pictures printed out on regular, you know, foldable paper before as opposed to photograph stock, and seeing them like that is fun. I have a hard time not taking the books and just leafing through them with a sense of wonder that I was actually present to take this photograph and now, maybe years later, I have it printed in a neat if tiny hardcover book. In a world filled with things which fascinate me when I should be doing something more productive this is really dangerous since it plays to my vanity and to my recollections that I used to have much more interesting things around the place where I live.
The intent is that these should be presents: belated Christmas presents, officially, although at this point I might be better off just saying that they're for being people in my life whom I like. And this is really my first venture since about middle school in gifts that are actually custom-made to the person I mean to give them to. It's not that I don't put thought into presents, but I accepted that a good choice of something amusing or useful or interesting would be at least as liked as, well, the shakily built crafts projects I would be able to do in middle school. In any case I'm happy with the result.
What surprised me was the response of my father to the books. He's always expressed extreme love for my photography work, and I'm flattered by that, particularly since I know why it is I have a dozen good pictures from everything I go to with a camera. (The secret: I take 200 pictures of everything I go to with a camera.) But he got to telling not just my mother about what outstanding books they were, but also my siblings -- by instant messenger -- and one of my mother's college friends, not the one I mean to give this to. He thinks I should try to make a side line in selling photographs. I think I should hire him as my publicity agent.
Trivia: In 1688, some 24,000 lights were used to illuminate the park of Versailles. Source: Disenchanted Night: The Industrialization of Light in the 19th Century, Wolfgang Schivelbusch.
Currently Reading: Brave Men, Ernie Pyle.