In January I headed to Plymouth, MI with Jordan to see the "world-famous" ice carving festival. It was during the excessively freezing cold streak when temperatures soared to 10 degrees F during the day. It was probably somewhere between 5-15 degrees + wind when we stepped outside our car into the frosty, biting air.
We descended from our parking structure with a blast of wind onto the street before the veteran's park, where the festival was taking place. My senses were bombarded by the sights, sounds, and smells of the festival: food stalls, hundreds of people walking around in the illuminated night scene, multi-colored beam lights, and music.
This cold wasn't even good for the ice sculptures, and many had already cracked and begun to break. I managed to get some beautiful shots, anyway.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I just can't seem to stop writing/writing about feminist critiques of pornography. Here I start my third school assignment on porn. Shouldn't even be a surprise anymore, and if you need me, I'll be in the porn section of the library. (Yes they have one, but not in the way you think).