Lighten Up

It's been a dark week. I just could not shake the mood and the view and the fact that nothing at all seemed right or worthwhile or promising. I felt a little trapped. All doors locked, no windows opened.

But then, thank goodness, I had a play date come through. Thanks to my lovely friends who helped make that happen. They have no idea how much I needed a dose of their sweet medicine.

That's All

This is about everything I have to say. A vase with a flower on the windowsill. It keeps me quiet.

Two for Tuesday

Here's a favorite twosome - Lindsay and me. She's the one with her foot in the air. I'm the elbow shaped like a V.

When we met, Lindsay was new to modeling and I was new to working with models. We enjoyed experimenting, ran through ideas like unconcerned children at play, and improved along the way. Our failures were instructive and many, and our successes brought a savory satisfaction. We collaborated for over two years.

I posted this image now because this week the Lindsay-Diana vibe fired up in undeniable ways. I'd just written a grant envisioning a month long photo shoot for my series and the whole time, I'm seeing Lindsay as the model. And, then, guess what shows up? A letter from Lindsay. An honest to God, use a stamp letter.

Okay, no more about all that. Don't want to jinx the juju.

This portrait came after we made a very excellent piece of theatre together, one entitled, There Are Limits. We brought a chair (located at the far left of frame) and waited. First we waited for the six o'clock shadows to come lay down and then we waited for the winds to blow.

The Deadline

Striving, stretching, reaching, almost there. I can practically hear her moaning with the effort.

This image resembles where I am in the process of putting together a grant proposal, due tomorrow.

Hope she gets the ball. Hope I get the grant.

The One That Got Away

I've been checking out store window fronts for a new photo idea. I found this old time shoe store, recently gone out of business, in the middle of downtown Winston. The single shoe, wooden and dusty and all alone, stood like a poetic reminder of loss surrounded as it was by so much musty white carpet and that lonesome band of plastic ivy.

At the time, I knew I hadn't quite captured the image, so figured I'd come back. Only problem was I waited three days. Big mistake. When I finally got my lazy ass down there, a huge for rent sign leaned against the window, propped up by - you guessed it- that lone shoe.

Two for Tuesdays

It was a small space, a gallery, and I had my big lens, but still the tight shot captures the connection that first drew me to this couple, this twosome, one named Israel the other named Zach. The tilt of their heads, their focus, their glasses, and most of all their sweet expression created a unity based on quiet warmth.

What are they looking at? It's not clear other than it's theirs.

That's the poetic answer, but the narrative truth is this: their downward stare is trained on their new puppy, a jolly little mutt whose fur is the color of iced mocha splashed and splotched with black markings that would have made deKooning proud.

Stop the Car

The afternoon I spotted this woman opening the mail, her kerchief and anklets beautiful teal blue mysteries, I got excited. So excited, I asked my friend to stop the car. I jumped out of the passenger's seat in order to photograph this ordinary gesture on an ordinary city street on an ordinary weekday afternoon.

Later, a friend asked me why I took this picture. What made you do that?

The question took me by surprise. I couldn't come up with a quick reply. This image is my answer.

Thanks to you, Miss G.

Escaping Words

What I want to say flies out of reach. The words are many but I can't seem to hold onto them. Will the page be saved or will it float away, never to be retrieved?

Two for Tuesdays

These blue sneakers bring back a memory from a summer past when I took a class on photographing the nude. One day a new model showed up. Shy, young, long blond hair, no clue what she'd gotten herself into.

Without her clothes on, she was a frozen, dreadful model. But one afternoon, I asked if I could take a picture of her cheerful blue Converse sneakers. It was obvious she was into them as a fashion statement. After all, she'd cuffed her jeans.

Finally, a photograph she could naturally pose for. Her relief felt palpable. And, at last, her personality came through the lens.

Trashy Truths

I enjoyed some summertime wandering at home the other night around 6 . Took the bus downtown. That was a first.

This image comes from one of my favorite buildings which has countless rooms that contain history, possibilities, and are rough around the edges. It's a monument to glamor in decline. I love this building the way people love their pets.

But there's a piece of trash - look - it's just to the left of mid-frame. I couldn't remove the paper or tape or whatever it was. There was a wide gulf of space separating the window from the sidewalk, and from me.

Somehow I don't want to change it with Photoshop either. I don't always like the poof and it's gone factor.

Fairy Good Stuff

In Australia they call cotton candy fairy floss, which, in my humble, is a better description.

Cheers to fairies, to short sleeve summer dresses, and to Melbourne, a place where part of me still lives.

Two for Tuesday: For Marissa

Talk about pairing up. The hair, the haircut, those pockets, the hip tilt, that way their upper arms lean and cross.

I watched these two during a Blues Festival at Grant Park in Chicago. Not once during the concert did they disconnect their bodies; they merely rearranged from time to time. During intermission, I overheard them speaking Spanish, but didn't understand anything other than this: they'd come a distance to hear Chicago style blues. (Totally worth it.)

The photograph is a shout out to my daughter (hello, Missy Miss). Tomorrow she travels to Colombia, heading back to Latin America, a place she knows well and loves more. She'll be traveling as a twosome. Wonder what they'll see along the way... Happy travels.

Getting Wet, Circa 1967

You ever notice how women enter a pool a little at a time? It's that gradual movement that gives the act its theatricality. Its moment.

On this morning, Rachel wore her suit she had since seventh grade and imagined Italy. I think she should pack the bathing suit in her luggage and wave Bon Voyage.

Am I crazy, or does this portrait look like a snapshot from 1967?