A giant petrel swimming in Fortuna Bay in South Georgia.
Yesterday after class I took the bus on Fifth Avenue—walking the full two miles home after standing all day is not always possible with my still highly tempermental knee. The bus was crowded, and as soon as I got on, a young man jumped up and offered me his seat.
Reader, I accepted— gratefully—even as an incredulous voice in my head was shrieking, “Wait! I'm not old!”
Packing up after a long day on the beach at Copacabana. I am so impressed by everything this man managed to pack onto that little cart. Most of the vendors I noticed around the beach used big trucks to haul all their stuff around.
The Selarón Steps (locally known as the Lapa Steps for the neighborhood in Rio where they're located) were created by Chilean painter and sculptor Jorge Selarón. In 1990, he started painting the dilapidated stairs outside his home, and decorating them with tiles he salvaged from building sites. The steps became an obsession, and he used his other art as a sideline to finance the project. Eventually visitors from around the world began to donate tiles.
Selarón died in 2013.
If you think the picture above isn't great, here's an example of the rest of my pictures. Not only was it pouring rain when we were there, but the weather did nothing to discourage the multitudes of tourists. I didn't even attempt to fight my way through the crowds and climb the stairs; instead I joined the more intelligent tourists huddling under awnings outside nearby shops until it was time to get back in the van.
But I did love this outside the cathedral: a status of Jesus as a homeless man (identifiable only by the wounds on his feet), created by a Canadian artist, Timothy Schmalz.
Ever wondered what a Brutalist Mayan pyramid would look like? Well, here you are.
The cathedral was designed by Edgar de Oliveira da Fonseca, and built in the late 60's-early 70's. I have not been able to find any information about why he chose a Mayan design for a Brazilian cathedral, except that the conical shape is supposed to represent bringing the people closer to God and a break from Brazil's colonial past. Okay.
I just find Brutalist architecture so dreary. It was a very gray, rainy day when I was there, but I've looked at many pictures online and honestly it doesn't look any better when the sun's out.
There's no way to capture the scale here, unfortunately, without a lot more time and camera equipment than I had. This crucifix is suspended over the altar, and is six meters high and four meters wide (approximtely 20 by 13 feet.)
This is a very odd building, and I'm not sure whether I like it or not. The four stained glass windows seen from the interior are certainly spectacular (from the exterior you can't even tell that they are windows); they extend more than 200 feet from the floor to the ceiling, where they meet in a skylight shaped like a cross.
A statue of St. Francis of Assisi at the São Sebastião Cathedral in Rio de Janeiro. I've always loved St. Francis, not just because I grew up in a city named for him. During the the late 60's-early 70's days of the folk Mass, we used to sing several songs written by Sebastian Temple. This is the only one I remember, not least because they sang it at my stepfather's funeral, a few weeks before it was played at Princess Diana's.
Make me a channel of your peace,
Where there is hatred let me bring your love,
Where there is injury your pardon Lord,
And where there’s doubt true faith in you.
O Master grant that I may never seek,
So much to be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love with all my soul.
Make me a channel of your peace,
Where there’s despair in life, let me bring hope,
Where there is darkness, only light,
And where there’s sadness, ever joy.
Make me a channel of your peace,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
In giving of ourselves that we receive.
And in dying that we’re born to eternal life.
-- Adapted by Sebastian Temple
I am often not being as kind as I would like to be these days, but when I listen to this song, I am always inspired to try harder.
Evidence that not every penguin in South Georgia is identical.
I'm sure that these two characters are coordinating with their relatives in the Heard and McDonald Islands to cheat their way out of the new U.S. tariffs. My experience is of course limited, but after spending some time around several different species of penguin, my impression is that their primary export is poop. Lots and lots of poop.
