In the small town of Baylor, Kentucky, twelve-year-old Jessie K. Bovey and her friends confront some of life's questions during their summer vacation in the late 1960s.

Today Dounya Awada is a 24-year-old, devout Muslim, happy, healthy, and very much alive. But just a few years before, she nearly starved to death. Her struggle began when she was six years old. Little Dounya wanted nothing less than to be perfect, like her mother. She pushed herself hard every day, excelling in schoolwork and at home. She had to be the cutest, prettiest, smartest girl in the room. The slightest hint of imperfection led to meltdowns and uncontrollable tantrums. Her parents loved her fiercely but were unable to understand what was happening to their little girl. In Dounya's culture, food is nearly synonymous with love. Dounya began to eat to fill the growing need within her. She grew in size, eventually hitting over 200 pounds at just age 15. Food became her only friend. Her peers mocked her. She felt utterly alone. As is the case for someone with dysmorphia, Dounya's obsession with food did a turnabout, and she began rigorous exercising and dieting. But even a substantial weight loss didn't satisfy her. She looked in the mirror and still saw the fat girl she used to be. She began the ugly cycle of bingeing and purging, until she weighted just 73 pounds"--

How computer graphics transformed the computer from a calculating machine into an interactive medium, as seen through the histories of five technical objects. Most of us think of computer graphics as a relatively recent invention, enabling the spectacular visual effects and lifelike simulations we see in current films, television shows, and digital games. In fact, computer graphics have been around as long as the modern computer itself, and played a fundamental role in the development of our contemporary culture of computing. In Image Objects, Jacob Gaboury offers a prehistory of computer graphics through an examination of five technical objects--an algorithm, an interface, an object standard, a programming paradigm, and a hardware platform--arguing that computer graphics transformed the computer from a calculating machine into an interactive medium. Gaboury explores early efforts to produce an algorithmic solution for the calculation of object visibility; considers the history of the computer screen and the random-access memory that first made interactive images possible; examines the standardization of graphical objects through the Utah teapot, the most famous graphical model in the history of the field; reviews the graphical origins of the object-oriented programming paradigm; and, finally, considers the development of the graphics processing unit as the catalyst that enabled an explosion in graphical computing at the end of the twentieth century. The development of computer graphics, Gaboury argues, signals a change not only in the way we make images but also in the way we mediate our world through the computer--and how we have come to reimagine that world as computational.

There are photography books on the market today that consist of pictures and some pictures may include who is in the picture and the location of the picture. This book goes beyond just pictures because I include stories (personal thoughts) to these pictures to make them more interesting. There is a saying that goes: "Pictures tell a story." Well, there are some stories that are as interesting as the picture itself. This book goes beyond just pictures because of the stories behind the picture. There are three things that make this photography book different from others in the market: There is a poem I wrote about September 11, 2001. The poem is behind the pictures of the 911 memorial in New York. If someone is looking for an Alzheimer's support group online then please see the flower picture for details. The pictures in this book consist of various subjects instead of all on one subject.

This profoundly illuminating, entertaining book could well change the way we "read" the visual world around us, and certainly help open our eyes and minds to its astonishing riches. The language in which we speak about art has become steadily more abstruse, a jargon that only art critics and con-artists can understand, though for thousands of years this was not the case. Today, we live in a kaleidoscopic new world of images: Is there a vocabulary we can learn in order to read these images? Is there something we can do so as not to remain passive when we flip through an illustrated book, or download images on a screen? Are there ways in which we can "read" the stories within paintings, monuments, buildings and sculptures? We say "every picture tells a story" - but does it? Taking a handful of extraordinary images - photographed, painted, built, sculpted - Alberto Manguel explores how each one attempts to tell a story that we, the viewer, must decipher or invent. "A History of Love and Hate" is not about art history or theory - it is about the astonishing pleasures and surprises of stories.