Featured Work
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Civilisation's End #2 by J J Everson
Old and abandoned. Kaname, Japan. October 2009.
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the hitching post 2 by Lenny La Rue, IPA
Hitching posts are outside a number of buildings in Mid town and downtown Sacramento. I don’t know the history of them so I’m not sure if they were ornamental additions to properties or functional tools from a time when horses were being ridden into Sacramento. I’m leaning towards the former since none of the structures behind them appear to be from 150 years ago (tho this one is seriously odd enough to be from another century – or another planet!). But they are extremely cool in a funky sort of way. And yes, if you really want to tick off the entire neighbourhood, you could go out in the middle of the night and bang their ‘free’ rings against their posts, making one hell of a racket. This piece sorta reminded me of the song “Uncle Remus” from the late Frank Zappa’s Apostrophe (‘) CD. The song is a rather nasty remembrance of America’s civil rights struggle of the 60’s, an era I lived thru with both complete ignorance and completely relevance. Want to know more? Read waaaaaay below. If I was in the mood, I add the personal story. If not, feel free to ask me in Bmail. :-) Whoa, are we moving too slow? / Have you seen us, Uncle Remus? / We look pretty sharp in these clothes / (yes, we do) / Unless we get sprayed with a hose / It aint bad in the day / If they squirt it your way / cept in the wintah, when its froze / And its hard if it hits, on your nose / (on your nose) Just keep your nose / To the grindstone they say / Will that redeem us, Uncle Remus? / I cant wait til mah fro is full grown / I’ll just throw away my doo-rag at home I’ll take a drive to / Beverly Hills / Just before dawn / And knock the little jockeys / Off the rich peoples lawn / And before they get up / I’ll be gone / (I’ll be gone) / Before they get up / I’ll be knockin the jockeys off the lawn / (down in the dew) Still reading? OK, if you got this far, you may as well go for it all, right? As a child of the 60’s, I had the best and the worst of all worlds. Freedom was everywhere and the hippies were proving it daily. Pot was in San Francisco – or from [your neighborhood teenager with connections]. I saw my first breasts and the hint of love making at Woodstock. (No, the movie, you twits!) But tension was everywhere too, if not in my own backyard, or [hers]. Let’s call her Vicky. She saw me crying in my 6th grade class when the assignment was to write about either fathers of family; I can’t remember. She looked towards me and I wrote her a note instead of doing the assignment, and it concluded with ”...my stupid emotions”. She wrote a note back and said “My emotions were NOT stupid!...” and I started to fall in love. I fell hard once we talked, sharing that my family had broken up due to divorce and hers had broken up before she even knew her parents and was adopted. He saw each other at school daily and talked before and after as much as we could before she invited me to her home. We were both extremely immature and spent a few minutes fumbling around her backyard hugging – not even kissing, much less anything else. She invited me to meet her parents soon after and I did. I played their organ – at their request – because Vicky was so proud of my musical ability. (She had never heard me play before!) Soon after that, Vicky became aloof and finally told me that we couldn’t see each other again. I asked why and reluctantly she told me she didn’t like me and didn’t want to see me. Years later, that was explained after I spent an absolutely miserable few years both hating her and loving her thru grade school. She saw me in a parking lot and recognized me immediately. I didn’t recognize her because she changed a LOT over the years. She introduced herself and her child before I joined them in a Chucky Cheese Pizza Restaurant, drank a few beers, and went home thrilled I’d once again found my First True Love, albeit with a child and about 50 pounds lighter. Chat led to revelation and revelation leads to why I’m writing this. You see, Vicky was white. I never noticed that as I don’t generally see colour; I am truly colourblind visually as well as racially. She didn’t want to break up with me 20 years before. Her mom received a call from my mom asking that we be disallowed to see each other. Vicky was the emotionally mature one of us so she was given the task of breaking off the relationship by telling me the lie that it was because of her feelings towards me. She had lied well, something I’ve never been able to recognize nor easily do myself. I then lived with fact parents had been terrified of their children being in an interracial relationship in the 60’s and 70’s. Vicky and I probably would have lasted forever. It was one of those special things: virgin love. There was no “puppy love” about it but there was no sexual tension from uncontrollable hormones either. She really did love me (confirming it after we re-met) and I loved her more than anyone else in my life – family included, as they seemed to see me as an outsider. In the Sacramento of 1970, would an adolescent interracial couple have had a hard time? Not likely. We in Sacramento were in a bubble of sanity floating along in a ocean of strife. Someone or something from afar would have had to come bringing with it the horror of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr and the Chicago and Watts riots. We were innocent and condemned for being too far ahead of the country we lived in. What does any of this have to do with an outdated hitching post and Frank Zappa? The song is about racism, the jockeys ride horses, and the horses are hitched in a town that seems to have forgotten to be prejudice. Convoluted? Maybe, but my tears right now are real.
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Rust & Wood by RosiePosie
Wooden ship plated with metal. Fregatten Jylland, Ebeltoft (DK)
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Locked Up Tight! by rasnidreamer
Found this old gate on one of the back roads while out walking one day. I thought it was really funny that the old gate was all but falling down, yet there was FIVE padlocks on it. Right next to it was an old barbed wire fence that one could simply step over! / Canon Rebel XSi
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A Sculpture by the Sea at Bondi by Rod Kashubin
Yep, that’s right, it is indeed a mechanical horse on the edge of a cliff. Would be priceless to know what that guy thinks while he walks around it. I myself looking on the selection of metal details and how it’s all fitted together thought that it must have taken hellavalot of time to get it all into the form. Funnily enough I didn’t even question myself at first whether it is a horse or what. It must be because it is. Shape is made very well with all the horsy proportions and horse looks. However, what’s the name? Guess what, you have to buy a guide to know it. That is a unique idea of itself to set hundreds of artworks at the public display and did not put a single sign with a name. Just a number. But that’s alright, there is a positive side to that. It got me (and probably hundreds of others) wondering what name could have been chosen for it. Trojan Horse 2nd Edition? Or A Bit Rusted Since the Bronze Age? Your version? Sculpture by the Sea 2009 is annual open-air exhibition set along the Bondi to Tamarama coastal walk for thirteenth time. The impressions of more than 100 artists carved in rock, shaped in bronze and even stuck into the liquid foam are displayed from 29 October to 15 November 2009. This is a tonemapped HDR from a single RAW. Location: Tamarama beach to Bondi beach coastal walk, New South Wales, Australia From my photoblog at http://www.bouncedphoton.com
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Hinged by orlaphoto
An old rust encrusted hinge found on a door in Maynooth College grounds. Lots of wonderful colour and texture. Featured in: Rustic – 11th March 2009. Featured in: Happy Haven Photography – 29th March 2009. Featured in: Friends of Bangor and North Down Camera Club, Northern Ireland – 29th March 2009. Featured in: TOOLS GROUP – 19th October 2009. Featured in: Old & Rusty – 18th November 2009. Photography from Ireland. / Camera: Canon IXUS 800IS Example of Greeting Card (blank inside): / Example of a Framed Print: /
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'The Colours of Rust' by Gavin J Hawley
An old rusty tap in our garden. / This is a single image copied 3 times, then put into Photomatix and changed to HDR. / Nikon D80 w Nikkor 60mm Micro lens. / Best veiwed large.
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Retired by doubleheader
I looked for some type of marking or number but this old truck cab was just rust..Image taken in eastern Nevada, Elko county.. Canon Rebel T1i w/ Canon18-55 IS lens…=D
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Old Plough Seat by Larry Trupp
! Featured in the Rural Around The Globe group on 13 November 2009. Featured in the Old & Rusty group on 17 November 2009 Location: Taken in a farmers field, just south of Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Camera Details: Canon EOS Digital Rebel XTi, 55mm Lens, Aperture exp 5.6, Shutter speed 1/400, ISO 200
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rusticycle by Jonty Barron
minor editing done on this picture (stauration and sharpness) / camera: canon 1000d / lens: 18-55mm puerto polenca, majorca, spain
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Rust drop by Kimba Vetten
An old rusted something from the docks. I have no idea about boats or fishing but I loved this shot.
Recent Work
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Man and His Dog by DebraLee Wiseberg
Abstract of rust and peeling paint on the side of a dump truck. Nikon D200, Nikkor 24-120mm /
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Rusty Padlock by orlaphoto
An old rust encrusted hinge found on a door in Maynooth College grounds. Lots of wonderful colour and texture. Photography from Ireland. / Camera: Canon IXUS 800 IS
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Atrium by fourthangel
Section of a rusty wrought iron heart
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Point Ellen Light by Werner Padarin
View across Vivonne Bay / Vivonne Bay Conservation Park / Kangaroo Island, South Australia, Australia / / (ref fotoWERNER 3H0911.3150) / Nikon D300 | Nikon 18-200VR / 1/160s f/18 ISO200 / Featured in Going Coastal group (21 November 2009) /
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don't open this door by Lynne Prestebak
I saw this in downtown Eau Claire, Wisconsin today….loved the whole look….
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Rusty ole' CHEVROLET Bow Tie by kodakcameragirl
i found this old rusty truck at the route 66 museum in Kingston AZ. . .I’m a chevy Girl! ;<) Taken with my Kodak / M1033 / Smart Capture
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Fog Ice and Snow by Sherry Adkins
Shot in Amarillo, Texas on a cold foggy day. It was sleeting and snowing and I nearly froze to death shooting this. Fractalious plug-in was the final touch.
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Looking In! by Bev Woodman
Looking in … / Through and beyond at what once was here. / The pain … / The trauma, isolation and the fear. They claimed me to be mad / ... some said this made me bad, / my loved ones thought it sad / but the public though were glad / to see me locked in here! Now there’s nothing really left / to remind me of these days / of the many times locked in here / in a drunken, drugged haze. I’ve served my time in the rehab ward / cured they say was my reward / but despite the horror I endured / I just cannot accept this vandalised ruin. I’ll wipe it from my mind I thought / But try as I can it came to naught / So I guess I’ll watch it crumble and fall / gently rusting … rotting … within these prison walls. / (© copyright Beverley Woodman 2008) This shot was taken amongst the ruins of the prison for the criminally insane at Morisset on Lake Macquarie NSW Australia.
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Old Wings by Kimba Vetten
Old rusted petrol tank on an old rusted scooter.
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Eye see you! by AleFletcher
Shot by my mother behind an old machine in a German museum / Summer 2009 Processed with Photofiltre
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Rusty Railings by Martina Fagan
/ © / MCN:CQWJ2-UUFF5-XT6N2
About This Group
This group is open to all art that is old and rusty. Nothing which is still in near new condition. The artwork must have copious amounts of rust, not just a hint of rust. Photos are not to be over manipulated to give a rustic, rusty appearance. Photos can be black and white as long as the rust and age are prominent. The main focus of the this group is to promote the artistic, perspective and imaginative skills of the artist.
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“discarded” – UncaDeej
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