sunset on Whalton Lane
evening walk
first day, morning
Hemingway's library
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in Hemingway's garden
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It’s been a long week for both of us. Rejection letters, job uncertainty, broken appliances, splitting headaches. A week of careless mistakes and a list of high hopes that we wondered if we’d ever be able to fill. I remind myself of good things too: Valentine’s Polaroid film, enchiladas with Paul and Heather, taking silly pictures with Masha at a wedding, sweet coworkers who make me laugh and let me be ridiculous, hearing D is coming down from Boston for my birthday, sharing mum stories with my sister. Getting all dolled up with my best friend despite this roller coaster week.
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For as much traveling as I’ve done in my life, I still get nervous every time I fly. Take-off used to freak me out, but after the bumpy winter ride back from the Keys, landing scares me more, watching day turn to night through small sheets of rain. Before boarding, I looked around at the other passengers, and their calm calmed me. People napping, listening to iPods, reading magazines. There is comfort in the ordinary. I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s what worked to get me through the ride – that, and taking pictures. I never tire of looking at cloud photos, and I don’t tire of taking them.
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Filed under: Vintage Photo Album | Tags: 1970s, birthday, free spirit, mother
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My mother was never one for ceremony, but birthdays were different. Birthdays — particularly *her* birthday — turned into birth months, and for weeks leading up to the event she’d drop hints on all the gifts she wanted. She always called me on my birthday, recalling details of my birth: how much I weighed, what time I was born, how difficult I was to bring into this world. We’d laugh; not much had changed. I had grown into a complicated woman, and it is only now that I accept how like my mother I am: stubborn, independent and curious, relishing solitude. We don’t want to admit as we get older that we have become clichés — our parents. Today I’ll celebrate the day of her birth with Suzy-Qs and a can of Pepsi, thinking about how much I miss her since she’s been gone.
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It takes some convincing for Jeff to travel. He is more cautious than I am about money, and taking time away from his artwork for a gift of escapism. But once he’s there, he’s fully there, the man with three cameras swinging from his neck, wearing out the treads in his shoes from walking for hours to dig through residents’ trash. That’s what we love most: stealing away into quiet side streets, never knowing what we’ll find. It’s difficult though to find a quiet moment in Key West during high tourist season, but somehow we managed at South Beach, one of the most crowded places at sunset. It helps to arrive a few minutes late to your destination.
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Filed under: Art Gallery | Tags: becky corrigan, penn avenue unblurred, portraits
"Rebby"
This Friday’s Unblurred features acrylic on wood portraits by Rebecca Corrigan. rebeccacorrigan[at]yahoo[dot]com.
"Nick"
