Here we are, 16 years after the last picture I posted. There was a better one in which we were all laughing, but I blinked. Dammit! Understandably, no one was really delighted about having to do a second take.
Also, here's a video of my almost-successful attempt at a zoetrope animation at the George Eastman House.
(Now that I watch that again, it's not so great, but I'm feeling too lazy to resize and upload other art.)
George Eastman's estate is creepy and fabulous. It sounds like he was a pretty weird dude. He counted his silverware obsessively, was awakened each morning by a live organ performance, and decorated with the liberal use of hunting trophies (Dear RJ Reynolds: I promise to never quit smoking if you send me an ashtray with a real ibex hoof as the base).
He finally shot himself to death in the chest at the age of 77. You can see the note at the museum. All it says is: To my friends, My work is done, why wait? And, of course, he helped bring photography to all us little people. So you see that our trip was fun and educational.