My father bought a 1978 911 Targa SC in the early-to-mid 1980s, and it’s really become a member of our family. He had it when he met my mother, they drove it to their wedding, and it’s been in our garage for my entire life. I learned to drive on the Beetle, with the promise that I would graduate after a year to driving it - which served as great motivation to a frustrated teenager trying to master the delicate ballet of stick shift and clutch pedal. We might have a Mercedes and a Volkswagen and a BMW motorcycle in the stable too, but Porsche is where our hearts reside.
So we went to the Porsche Museum in Stuttgart, and had a religious experience:
We saw some wonderful early cars:
… and some that were from rather the same era as ours:
Below, I am staring intently at an early 912, the sort of car that Peiper would have helped to ship to America during the late 1960s.
… as well as pieces of motorsport and Le Mans history:
Yep, the one above says “PROST” on it, if you look closely, and the one below was used in the East Africa Rally…
… and the millionth 911 ever produced, which was gifted to the state of Baden-Württemberg and used as a highway patrol cruiser (ft. me being distracted by a gullwing Le Mans model across the room):
… as well as some military vehicles (not surprising, there was no reference to what happened between about 1933 and 1948):
(this last one was an amphibious assault vehicle from 1953)
… and yes, @ladyrindt, we got you multiple souvenirs, since you weren’t with us for the pilgrimage.
August 29 2016 - Jörg Meuthen of the far-right anti-immigration party AfD gets pied at a congress in Hittfeld, near Hamburg. Antifascist pie technology has clearly improved since the last time an AfD partymember got a pie in the face, as this one was still frozen.
the beginning of November by Rona Keller Via Flickr: I wake to a world covered in fog and spend my days not doing much until it gets dark again. In those hours before the world turns black I have the strong urge to create. I want to capture the last yellow leaves, the first November rain, the cold wind that brushes the outside of our house, how cosy my room feels at this time of the year, but sometimes I just stay in the moment. I try to enjoy it the way it is and wonder why it always feels like something is missing when I don’t take photographs. It’s never just beautiful or just cosy or just warm, it’s always fading and unsettling and cold, too. I curl up in my warm bed and try to let go, but the artist inside me never seems to rest.