Lucid Living

Okay, so this was a good day, a day when the elements and flow were right there, right in place, right on.

It began with this couch that sat along the curb of one one of Winston-Salem's most beautiful curves. Upper Glade Street. The road should really be called Glide Street. The road is wide and steep, and makes a curvaceous slow and sexy letter S as it ambles down toward Hawthorne Road.

The couch talks to me, it insists on being photographed. But I feel the need to find a person to sit on the couch so I can make the album cover that flashed into my head.

Along comes a wonderfully dressed man with dark glasses and a felicitous spring in his black-loafered step. Sure, he says, OK I'll meet you on Glade.

My friend, H, and I put a recycle bag atop the seat cushion of the discarded couch and down sits Mister Good Guy. Bam. The photograph realized.

Henri Cartier-Bresson, the French photographer I seem to quote way too much, said something I often think about. He said, "To be lucid about your home is the most difficult."

I felt I was in the zone of lucid looking when this image materialized. Thanks to HW and CR and the muses that showed up that fateful afternoon.