I've had Alien Boy for more than twenty years. He lives in a glass vase in a far corner of the livingroom. He will bring me back to my home planet when it's time. The book is "Japan Unbuttoned" and is an early 1950s book for Army dependents living in that country.
My circa 1920s baby clothes hanger and pair of baby shoes take on a decidedly non-cherubic look in the glare of a flashlight.
I have German brass sleigh bells hanging from my ceiling fan. The CFL bulbs add a decidedly modern touch to this 1980s light fixture.
My favored 1920s Roly-Poly glows in the light of a candle. He looks like he's about to roast some marshmallows, doesn't he? I think he was actually about to roast Sandy. He doesn't like the dark anymore than I do.
Dolly is resting eternally in my upstairs foyer. She never gives me any trouble.
These two are precocious and I must keep my eye on them at all times! Here, they are plotting their next move in the dark. They never go very far though. We all live small lives.
They watch me as I age. And I watch them slowly deteriorate, too. We are growing old together. They've now seen three generations of my family grow old.
I don't know who will care for them when I'm gone. Most people will just see their flaws. I see their hearts.
The Doughboy is always happy, even when there is a mystical blue lady creeping up behind him. His giggling is incessant but was a nice addition to the cold, electricity-less nights earlier this week.
This 1950s German angel loves to play dress-up with my mother's pearls. As soon as I take them off of her and put them away, she takes them out again. I think she's going to win this skermish.
Vintage poster for a concert in San Francisco, 1966, featuring among others, Alan Ginsberg, the Grateful Dead and Ken Kesey as the Emcee. Location: Fisherman's Wharf. Cost: $2.00 Dress: Estatic (sic)
My grandfather's large 4-color framed release from the first World War. This was the "war to end all wars." He died in early 1941, never knowing he hadn't fought the very last war the United States would be involved in.
Circa 1948 glamor portrait by Harold Haliday Costain seems to be separating from its backing in this light. It's not noticeable at all during the day. I think she may have led a fast life, hence the mid 1960s Chevy SS wheel center cap at the bottom.
"Sleepy" is always, well, you know. He NEVER moves as the cobwebs attest to.
Even Tinky Winky was a bit off his game without heat and light.