A THOUSAND WORDS - Alex Waterhouse-Hayward's blog on pictures, plants, politics and whatever else is on his mind.




 

The Exploration of Woman
Saturday, October 27, 2018





My friend Ian MacGuffie often repeats something that fills me with nostalgia for those days. He cites the photographers who would walk around Stanley Park in that last century. Some may have had Nikons or Pentaxes hanging from their necks. The more financially enhanced would perhaps have Hasselblads.

Then this is what MacGuffie says that rings so true in this age of proliferating images that are not here or there.

“We don’t know if these photographers were good or not. They had few opportunities to show them anywhere.”

That 20th century was also one of black and white, not only in photography but in other aspects of life. It seemed to be a century of absolutes with no strange and confusing grounds.

I have an acquaintance (one I hope with with I will have a friendship) who is a man who has changed her body. She has breast augmentation and perhaps she may have had modifications below the belt. At one time, in that other century I would have called her a drag queen. Now I am unsure as to the correct nomenclature. Obviously it is not black or white. It has to be another “colour” in-between or to one side or the other.

In that past century when I was a young man I could emerge from the confessional feeling elated and purified. That would not happen to me now. My beliefs have changed.

But there is one aspect of my life that is unchanged. Not only that, it seems to be stronger, more in my face. My taste buds are failing and there are few foods that please me. Of music I can only state that I do not want to ever listen to Bach’s Double Violin Concerto. I am done. I am done with it.

What is one of the few aspects of my life that is now enhanced and ever present?

This is my admiration, attraction, confusion, depression, amazement, wonder and many other emotions in how I relate to my visual impression of the women that surround my life. This could be the women that I know but also women who are strangers.

I am repelled by the Kardashian Factor which I define as my reaction to a banal perfection of beauty that as soon as it begins to fade surgery and other methods are used to freeze it.

I am instantly drawn to cleavage while being aware that I am admiring a concavity that has no material existence. I am looking at a curved space as difficult to fathom as Einstein’s space.
What is it about a leg or a pair of them that draws me to stare? Why is it that those legs below a mini skirt are so much more attractive (a beacon of sorts) than those seen in their entirety when the woman in question is wearing a bathing suit?

And my attraction to women is not only of women much younger than I am. I see beauty in my Rosemary even though I can remember those legs and everything else about her that I first saw 50 years ago.

To me it is obvious that this attraction is genetic. It is a genetic factor that makes the sexual organs (the exterior ones) of a woman so fine and their male counterparts so repulsive.

Are women less prone to the factors in that previous paragraph?

My Rosemary and I plan to travel more this 2019. Curiously we want to return to some of our favourite places like Mérida, New York, Buenos Aires, Guanajuato. Madrid while we have new interest in places that only Rosemary has been to like Rome, Florence and Venice. Could it be that there is pleasure in the predictable surprise of the surprising? There is no possibility we will ever want to go to Ulan Bator or Delhi. Is cleavage while much less complex than a face different and new every time?

Could it be that my attraction to the female form be still with me because I have good vision, and a memory that has yet to fail? I can remember that scene in To Catch a Thief, where Cary Grant in a hotel corridor spots Grace Kelly and that beautiful neck.

I can remember being 15 and going to newsstands in Mexico that had magazines showing Brigit Bardot’s cleavage. If I had enough pocket money I would buy them and smuggle them in back home.
I don’t have to ask myself why it was I liked to ride buses in Mexico City in those days of my youth to spy on women who crossed their legs.

In brief I don’t think I am abnormal or different from other men. 

What does make me different (and this is where the crunch lies) is that as a photographer I can capture (this 21st century photographic term has a good fit here in this usage) these memories and make them the realities of the moment of women who may pose for me in my Kits studio.

I can thank my proto-feminist mother, and my wife Rosemary) that I would never take a photograph where the woman posing is not in control or doing something I have persuaded her to do against her will.

In all these years where I have followed my star that is the beauty of woman I have never really felt all that frustrated about my photographs. I have shown (physical photographic prints printed by me in my darkroom) prints to friends. I have shown in the many galleries that existed in Vancouver before they became politically correct, shy and safe.

Now with friends that have died or disappeared or even because of a mutually fading friendship, my opportunity to show what I do has been diminished.

As the years in front of me become certainly short ones all I can do is to look at my filing cabinets, know what is in them (my memory has yet to fail me) and consider that I have had a life that is unique in what relates to the exploration of woman.





Alex - the Serial Bombmaker
Friday, October 26, 2018



Rusty & Alex, Mexico City, 1956


In 1956 when I was 14 I built bombs, big bombs. 

My school friend David Harris at the American School in Mexico City and I liked to make large explosions. There was a drugstore on Avenida Madero, downtown, called el Elefante where we bought kilos of potassium chlorate and sulphur. We began our bomb making with potassium nitrate but quickly found that potassium chlorate gave a bigger bang. At first we tried to mimic gunpowder and added ground coal to our mixture.

The way we exploded our divices, was to use large tin cans inside larger tin cans (packed with pebbles to make it tight) where we would insert a long electrical wire that at the end had a strand of a steel wool filament. After burying the can in my mother’s rose garden we connected the wire to a large 6 volt battery. The 6 volts were enough to make the filament glow.

That first explosion blew one of my mother’s rose bushes up into the air. We had buried our can under the bush.  I was given a whipping with a Filipino slipper called a chinela. But a few weeks later when the rose (which my mother re-planted) bloomed nicely I remember that she smiled at me.

But David Harris, who was smarter than I was in chemistry, told me that there was a better formula for our explosive that simply combined the potassioum chlorate with aluminum powder. Aluminum powder was sold in what in Mexico are special hardware stores called tlapalerías. The aluminum powder was usually mixed (we purchased it on its own) with a solvent (perhaps linseed oil) and used to paint metal so that it would not rust.

We made a very large bomb with his combination of aluminum powder and the potassium chlorate but moved our operations to a nearby empty lot. The explosion was deafening and the crater about ten feet in diameter. Perhaps because we lived in a residential district (Lomas de Chapultepec) the police never showed up.

We were delighted and built a few more of these bombs until we became bored.

Weeks later David Harris arrived with a vile in hand and riding on roller skates.

Alex, “This is nitro-glycerine.” We were both disappointed when our aluminum bomb did not set off the vile. David told me that perhaps he had made a mistake in the combination of chemicals and that he would try it again.

A week later my mother and I moved to Nueva Rosita, Coahuila and I lost contact with David Harris.
Through these many years I have been attempting to find him but to no avail.



If you were coming in the fall, I'd brush the summer by
Thursday, October 25, 2018



Acer (found on the street) October 25 2018

In the last few weeks I have been writing blogs in Spanish my native (materno in Spanish) language. Some of my followers (or at least the decidedly vocal ones) have objected to this. Since returning from our trip to Buenos Aires in September I have felt nostalgia for that place. I must remind anybody reading this that the absolute necessity for having nostalgia is to not be in the place you have nostalgia for. I have been answering an inner voice to write and think in Spanish.

Imagine then that after a quick search on the net and in my books in Spanish I have located three poems about fall from two Mexican poets (Homero Aridjis & Octavio Paz) and by Argentine Julio Cortázar. The fourth poem (yes! In English) is by Emily Dickinson.

Having left Buenos Aires at the start of a South American spring and arrived to a warmish Vancouver fall but today, wet and cool I find it most interesting that Dickinson’s poem about love injects a Southern Hemisphere aspect to what she writes by mentioning the person she loves and expects to see might mean that Dickinson might ignore (I’d brush the summer by) the coming spring and summer as her lover’s spring would coincide with Dickinson’s fall.

Lovely, as that poem addresses my present confusion between my Buenos Aires spring and my Vancouver fall. 


Rosa 'Duchess of Portland' & Rosa 'Abraham Darby' October 25 2018


Otoño – Octavio Paz

En llamas, en otoños incendiados,
arde a veces mi corazón,
puro y solo. El viento lo despierta,
toca su centro y lo suspende
en luz que sonríe para nadie:
¡cuánta belleza suelta!

Busco unas manos,
una presencia, un cuerpo,
lo que rompe los muros
y hace nacer las formas embriagadas,
un roce, un son, un giro, un ala apenas;
busco dentro mí,
huesos, violines intocados,
vértebras delicadas y sombrías,
labios que sueñan labios,
manos que sueñan pájaros...

Y algo que no se sabe y dice «nunca»
cae del cielo,
de ti, mi Dios y mi adversario.



Llamaré – Homero Aridjis


hasta que las puertas de tu ciudad
fortificada con estatutos inviolables
me acojan como habitante
de la vida que en ti se desenvuelve
igual que la lluvia de silencio
sobre tu cabeza
Gradualmente me impregnaré de ti
hasta que sea humo en tu voz
luz en tus ojos
y haga sobre mis hombros tu futuro
Cuando llegue el otoño
te descubriré al rostro de los  hombres
para que en tus vasos alimenticios
vengan a nutrirse de esperanza


Resumen de otoño – Julio Cortázar

En la bóveda de la tarde cada pájaro es un punto del
                                    recuerdo.
     Asombra a veces que el fervor del tiempo
vuelva, sin cuerpo vuelva, ya sin motivo vuelva;
que la belleza, tan breve en su violento amor
nos guarde un eco en el descenso de la noche.

Y así, qué más que estarse con los brazos caídos,
el corazón amontonado y ese sabor de polvo
                     que fue rosa o camino.
                      El vuelo excede el ala.
Sin humildad, saber que esto que resta
fue ganado a la sombra por obra de silencio;
que la rama en la mano, que la lágrima oscura
       son heredad, el hombre con su historia,
                    la lámpara que alumbra.


If you were coming in the fall - Emily Dickinson

IF you were coming in the fall,
I ’d brush the summer by        
With half a smile and half a spurn,   
As housewives do a fly. 
 
If I could see you in a year,              5
I ’d wind the months in balls,  
And put them each in separate drawers,    
Until their time befalls. 
 
If only centuries delayed,        
I ’d count them on my hand,            10
Subtracting till my fingers dropped  
Into Van Diemen’s land.
 
If certain, when this life was out,      
That yours and mine should be,       
I ’d toss it yonder like a rind,           15
And taste eternity.         
 
But now, all ignorant of the length   
Of time’s uncertain wing,        
It goads me, like the goblin bee,      
That will not state its sting.

More Emily Dickinson

A door just opened on the street 
 Amber slips away
Sleep
When August burning low
Pink Small and punctual
A slash of blue
I cannot dance upon my toes
Ah little rose
For hold them, blue to blue
The colour of the grave is green
 Her Grace is not all she has  
To know if any human eyes were near
Linda Melsted - the music of the violin does not emerge alone
The Charm invests her face
A sepal, a petal and a thorn
The Savior must have been a docile Gentleman
T were blessed to have seen
There is no frigate like a book
I pay in satin cash
Emily Dickinson's White Dress & a Hunter of Lost Souls
El vestido blanco - The White Dress
Water makes many beds
 The viola da gamba
 But sequence ravelled out of reach
 A parasol is the umbrella's daughter
 Without the power to die
 Lessons on the piny
Ample make this bed
How happy is the little stone
 Sleep is supposed to be
The shutting of the eye
I dwell in possibility
when Sappho was a living girl
In a library
 A light exists in spring
The lady dare not lift her veil
 I took my power in my hand
 I find my feet have further goals
 I cannot dance upon my toes
The Music of the Violin does not emerge alone
Red Blaze 
He touched me, so I live to know
Rear Window- The Entering Takes Away
Said Death to Passion
 We Wear the Mask That Grins And Lies
It was not death for I stood alone
The Music in the Violin Does Not Emerge Alone
I tend my flowers for thee
Lavinia Norcross Dickinson
Pray gather me anemone! 
Ample make her bed
His caravan of red 
Me-come! My dazzled face  
Develops pearl and weed

But peers beyond her mesh
Surgeons must be very careful
Water is taught by thirst
I could not prove that years had feet
April played her fiddle
A violin in Baize replaced
I think the longest hour
The spirit lasts
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/03/i-left-them-in-ground-emily-dickinson.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/01/i-felt-my-life-with-both-my-hands.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/currer-bell-emily-dickinson-charlotte.html

http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/and-zero-at-bone-with-dirks-of-melody.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/05/charm-invests-her-face.html

http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/i-could-not-see-to-see.html 
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/blonde-assasin-passes-on.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2012/12/you-almost-bathed-your-tongue.html



Monkeying Around Behind a Glass Door
Wednesday, October 24, 2018




This picture began as a b+w Fuji 3200 Instant Film print. My subject who had posed for me years before was not reluctant to shed all clothing. She had a wonderful milky white door that was partially translucent.

I took a few photographs and I was most gratified with the results.
Two years ago I might have monkeyed with the negatives. I still had a darkroom. But the fact is that I shot everything with my digital Fuji X-E1. 



As for the Polaroid/Fujiroids prints and peels I could not have done anything with them in that wet darkroom.

Now in this 2019 while I shoot film I enjoy the capabilities of scanning my negatives, prints with my Epson V-700 or working with my digital camera (or my iPhone3G) files.

A case in point is the enjoyable task of beginning with a workable Fuji Instant print and fixing it with my 13 year-old Photoshop. I dabble with contrast and shadow/highlights and then I go to Corel Paint Shop Pro XII. For the initial photograph here I used the Photo Effects – Time Machine with the cyanotype option. And presto something to entertain my afternoon on a gray Vancouver day.
















     

Previous Posts
Dust Gathered on the Glass

Edith Iglauer - March 10, 1917 – February 13, 2019...

Carlo - the soon-to-be- famous Florentine Tenor

The Two of Me in Dishonour

I cannot dance upon my Toes

The Petit- Avant-garde - Blade Runner 2049

My Grandmother Lolita on International Women's Day...

The Travails of Traveling in the 21st Century II

The Travails of Traveling in the 21st Century

Buenaventura - A Venetian Ghost



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8/7/11 - 8/14/11

8/14/11 - 8/21/11

8/21/11 - 8/28/11

8/28/11 - 9/4/11

9/4/11 - 9/11/11

9/11/11 - 9/18/11

9/18/11 - 9/25/11

9/25/11 - 10/2/11

10/2/11 - 10/9/11

10/9/11 - 10/16/11

10/16/11 - 10/23/11

10/23/11 - 10/30/11

10/30/11 - 11/6/11

11/6/11 - 11/13/11

11/13/11 - 11/20/11

11/20/11 - 11/27/11

11/27/11 - 12/4/11

12/4/11 - 12/11/11

12/11/11 - 12/18/11

12/18/11 - 12/25/11

12/25/11 - 1/1/12

1/1/12 - 1/8/12

1/8/12 - 1/15/12

1/15/12 - 1/22/12

1/22/12 - 1/29/12

1/29/12 - 2/5/12

2/5/12 - 2/12/12

2/12/12 - 2/19/12

2/19/12 - 2/26/12

2/26/12 - 3/4/12

3/4/12 - 3/11/12

3/11/12 - 3/18/12

3/18/12 - 3/25/12

3/25/12 - 4/1/12

4/1/12 - 4/8/12

4/8/12 - 4/15/12

4/15/12 - 4/22/12

4/22/12 - 4/29/12

4/29/12 - 5/6/12

5/6/12 - 5/13/12

5/13/12 - 5/20/12

5/20/12 - 5/27/12

5/27/12 - 6/3/12

6/3/12 - 6/10/12

6/10/12 - 6/17/12

6/17/12 - 6/24/12

6/24/12 - 7/1/12

7/1/12 - 7/8/12

7/8/12 - 7/15/12

7/15/12 - 7/22/12

7/22/12 - 7/29/12

7/29/12 - 8/5/12

8/5/12 - 8/12/12

8/12/12 - 8/19/12

8/19/12 - 8/26/12

8/26/12 - 9/2/12

9/2/12 - 9/9/12

9/9/12 - 9/16/12

9/16/12 - 9/23/12

9/23/12 - 9/30/12

9/30/12 - 10/7/12

10/7/12 - 10/14/12

10/14/12 - 10/21/12

10/21/12 - 10/28/12

10/28/12 - 11/4/12

11/4/12 - 11/11/12

11/11/12 - 11/18/12

11/18/12 - 11/25/12

11/25/12 - 12/2/12

12/2/12 - 12/9/12

12/9/12 - 12/16/12

12/16/12 - 12/23/12

12/23/12 - 12/30/12

12/30/12 - 1/6/13

1/6/13 - 1/13/13

1/13/13 - 1/20/13

1/20/13 - 1/27/13

1/27/13 - 2/3/13

2/3/13 - 2/10/13

2/10/13 - 2/17/13

2/17/13 - 2/24/13

2/24/13 - 3/3/13

3/3/13 - 3/10/13

3/10/13 - 3/17/13

3/17/13 - 3/24/13

3/24/13 - 3/31/13

3/31/13 - 4/7/13

4/7/13 - 4/14/13

4/14/13 - 4/21/13

4/21/13 - 4/28/13

4/28/13 - 5/5/13

5/5/13 - 5/12/13

5/12/13 - 5/19/13

5/19/13 - 5/26/13

5/26/13 - 6/2/13

6/2/13 - 6/9/13

6/9/13 - 6/16/13

6/16/13 - 6/23/13

6/23/13 - 6/30/13

6/30/13 - 7/7/13

7/7/13 - 7/14/13

7/14/13 - 7/21/13

7/21/13 - 7/28/13

7/28/13 - 8/4/13

8/4/13 - 8/11/13

8/11/13 - 8/18/13

8/18/13 - 8/25/13

8/25/13 - 9/1/13

9/1/13 - 9/8/13

9/8/13 - 9/15/13

9/15/13 - 9/22/13

9/22/13 - 9/29/13

9/29/13 - 10/6/13

10/6/13 - 10/13/13

10/13/13 - 10/20/13

10/20/13 - 10/27/13

10/27/13 - 11/3/13

11/3/13 - 11/10/13

11/10/13 - 11/17/13

11/17/13 - 11/24/13

11/24/13 - 12/1/13

12/1/13 - 12/8/13

12/8/13 - 12/15/13

12/15/13 - 12/22/13

12/22/13 - 12/29/13

12/29/13 - 1/5/14

1/5/14 - 1/12/14

1/12/14 - 1/19/14

1/19/14 - 1/26/14

1/26/14 - 2/2/14

2/2/14 - 2/9/14

2/9/14 - 2/16/14

2/16/14 - 2/23/14

2/23/14 - 3/2/14

3/2/14 - 3/9/14

3/9/14 - 3/16/14

3/16/14 - 3/23/14

3/23/14 - 3/30/14

3/30/14 - 4/6/14

4/6/14 - 4/13/14

4/13/14 - 4/20/14

4/20/14 - 4/27/14

4/27/14 - 5/4/14

5/4/14 - 5/11/14

5/11/14 - 5/18/14

5/18/14 - 5/25/14

5/25/14 - 6/1/14

6/1/14 - 6/8/14

6/8/14 - 6/15/14

6/15/14 - 6/22/14

6/22/14 - 6/29/14

6/29/14 - 7/6/14

7/6/14 - 7/13/14

7/13/14 - 7/20/14

7/20/14 - 7/27/14

7/27/14 - 8/3/14

8/3/14 - 8/10/14

8/10/14 - 8/17/14

8/17/14 - 8/24/14

8/24/14 - 8/31/14

8/31/14 - 9/7/14

9/7/14 - 9/14/14

9/14/14 - 9/21/14

9/21/14 - 9/28/14

9/28/14 - 10/5/14

10/5/14 - 10/12/14

10/12/14 - 10/19/14

10/19/14 - 10/26/14

10/26/14 - 11/2/14

11/2/14 - 11/9/14

11/9/14 - 11/16/14

11/16/14 - 11/23/14

11/23/14 - 11/30/14

11/30/14 - 12/7/14

12/7/14 - 12/14/14

12/14/14 - 12/21/14

12/21/14 - 12/28/14

12/28/14 - 1/4/15

1/4/15 - 1/11/15

1/11/15 - 1/18/15

1/18/15 - 1/25/15

1/25/15 - 2/1/15

2/1/15 - 2/8/15

2/8/15 - 2/15/15

2/15/15 - 2/22/15

2/22/15 - 3/1/15

3/1/15 - 3/8/15

3/8/15 - 3/15/15

3/15/15 - 3/22/15

3/22/15 - 3/29/15

3/29/15 - 4/5/15

4/5/15 - 4/12/15

4/12/15 - 4/19/15

4/19/15 - 4/26/15

4/26/15 - 5/3/15

5/3/15 - 5/10/15

5/10/15 - 5/17/15

5/17/15 - 5/24/15

5/24/15 - 5/31/15

5/31/15 - 6/7/15

6/7/15 - 6/14/15

6/14/15 - 6/21/15

6/21/15 - 6/28/15

6/28/15 - 7/5/15

7/5/15 - 7/12/15

7/12/15 - 7/19/15

7/19/15 - 7/26/15

7/26/15 - 8/2/15

8/2/15 - 8/9/15

8/9/15 - 8/16/15

8/16/15 - 8/23/15

8/23/15 - 8/30/15

8/30/15 - 9/6/15

9/6/15 - 9/13/15

9/13/15 - 9/20/15

9/20/15 - 9/27/15

9/27/15 - 10/4/15

10/4/15 - 10/11/15

10/18/15 - 10/25/15

10/25/15 - 11/1/15

11/1/15 - 11/8/15

11/8/15 - 11/15/15

11/15/15 - 11/22/15

11/22/15 - 11/29/15

11/29/15 - 12/6/15

12/6/15 - 12/13/15

12/13/15 - 12/20/15

12/20/15 - 12/27/15

12/27/15 - 1/3/16

1/3/16 - 1/10/16

1/10/16 - 1/17/16

1/31/16 - 2/7/16

2/7/16 - 2/14/16

2/14/16 - 2/21/16

2/21/16 - 2/28/16

2/28/16 - 3/6/16

3/6/16 - 3/13/16

3/13/16 - 3/20/16

3/20/16 - 3/27/16

3/27/16 - 4/3/16

4/3/16 - 4/10/16

4/10/16 - 4/17/16

4/17/16 - 4/24/16

4/24/16 - 5/1/16

5/1/16 - 5/8/16

5/8/16 - 5/15/16

5/15/16 - 5/22/16

5/22/16 - 5/29/16

5/29/16 - 6/5/16

6/5/16 - 6/12/16

6/12/16 - 6/19/16

6/19/16 - 6/26/16

6/26/16 - 7/3/16

7/3/16 - 7/10/16

7/10/16 - 7/17/16

7/17/16 - 7/24/16

7/24/16 - 7/31/16

7/31/16 - 8/7/16

8/7/16 - 8/14/16

8/14/16 - 8/21/16

8/21/16 - 8/28/16

8/28/16 - 9/4/16

9/4/16 - 9/11/16

9/11/16 - 9/18/16

9/18/16 - 9/25/16

9/25/16 - 10/2/16

10/2/16 - 10/9/16

10/9/16 - 10/16/16

10/16/16 - 10/23/16

10/23/16 - 10/30/16

10/30/16 - 11/6/16

11/6/16 - 11/13/16

11/13/16 - 11/20/16

11/20/16 - 11/27/16

11/27/16 - 12/4/16

12/4/16 - 12/11/16

12/11/16 - 12/18/16

12/18/16 - 12/25/16

12/25/16 - 1/1/17

1/1/17 - 1/8/17

1/8/17 - 1/15/17

1/15/17 - 1/22/17

1/22/17 - 1/29/17

1/29/17 - 2/5/17

2/5/17 - 2/12/17

2/12/17 - 2/19/17

2/19/17 - 2/26/17

2/26/17 - 3/5/17

3/5/17 - 3/12/17

3/12/17 - 3/19/17

3/19/17 - 3/26/17

3/26/17 - 4/2/17

4/2/17 - 4/9/17

4/9/17 - 4/16/17

4/16/17 - 4/23/17

4/23/17 - 4/30/17

4/30/17 - 5/7/17

5/7/17 - 5/14/17

5/14/17 - 5/21/17

5/21/17 - 5/28/17

5/28/17 - 6/4/17

6/4/17 - 6/11/17

6/11/17 - 6/18/17

6/18/17 - 6/25/17

6/25/17 - 7/2/17

7/2/17 - 7/9/17

7/9/17 - 7/16/17

7/16/17 - 7/23/17

7/23/17 - 7/30/17

7/30/17 - 8/6/17

8/6/17 - 8/13/17

8/13/17 - 8/20/17

8/20/17 - 8/27/17

8/27/17 - 9/3/17

9/3/17 - 9/10/17

9/10/17 - 9/17/17

9/17/17 - 9/24/17

9/24/17 - 10/1/17

10/1/17 - 10/8/17

10/8/17 - 10/15/17

10/15/17 - 10/22/17

10/22/17 - 10/29/17

10/29/17 - 11/5/17

11/5/17 - 11/12/17

11/12/17 - 11/19/17

11/19/17 - 11/26/17

11/26/17 - 12/3/17

12/3/17 - 12/10/17

12/10/17 - 12/17/17

12/17/17 - 12/24/17

12/24/17 - 12/31/17

12/31/17 - 1/7/18

1/7/18 - 1/14/18

1/14/18 - 1/21/18

1/21/18 - 1/28/18

1/28/18 - 2/4/18

2/4/18 - 2/11/18

2/11/18 - 2/18/18

2/18/18 - 2/25/18

2/25/18 - 3/4/18

3/4/18 - 3/11/18

3/11/18 - 3/18/18

3/18/18 - 3/25/18

3/25/18 - 4/1/18

4/1/18 - 4/8/18

4/8/18 - 4/15/18

4/15/18 - 4/22/18

4/22/18 - 4/29/18

4/29/18 - 5/6/18

5/6/18 - 5/13/18

5/13/18 - 5/20/18

5/20/18 - 5/27/18

5/27/18 - 6/3/18

6/3/18 - 6/10/18

6/10/18 - 6/17/18

6/17/18 - 6/24/18

6/24/18 - 7/1/18

7/1/18 - 7/8/18

7/8/18 - 7/15/18

7/15/18 - 7/22/18

7/22/18 - 7/29/18

7/29/18 - 8/5/18

8/5/18 - 8/12/18

8/12/18 - 8/19/18

8/19/18 - 8/26/18

8/26/18 - 9/2/18

9/2/18 - 9/9/18

9/9/18 - 9/16/18

9/16/18 - 9/23/18

9/23/18 - 9/30/18

9/30/18 - 10/7/18

10/7/18 - 10/14/18

10/14/18 - 10/21/18

10/21/18 - 10/28/18

10/28/18 - 11/4/18

11/4/18 - 11/11/18

11/11/18 - 11/18/18

11/18/18 - 11/25/18

11/25/18 - 12/2/18

12/2/18 - 12/9/18

12/9/18 - 12/16/18

12/16/18 - 12/23/18

12/23/18 - 12/30/18

12/30/18 - 1/6/19

1/6/19 - 1/13/19

1/13/19 - 1/20/19

1/20/19 - 1/27/19

1/27/19 - 2/3/19

2/3/19 - 2/10/19

2/10/19 - 2/17/19

2/17/19 - 2/24/19

3/3/19 - 3/10/19

3/10/19 - 3/17/19

3/17/19 - 3/24/19