The Long Way Home


Time Travel: 1969-1972
August 18, 2013, 7:45 AM
Filed under: Vintage Photo Album | Tags: , , , , , ,
August 1972

August 1972

We cleaned out our studio this past month: 12 large trash bags and three trips to Goodwill later – we find things. Like a copy of “Nights of Arabian Dentistry” that Jeff found in a thrift store. My tiny black wallet that looks like a toddler-sized handbag. A plastic garden gnome that I did have in the trash pile, but Jeff rescued by popping off the head and keeping it. The books – I could spend hours talking about parting with the books. Once I admitted that I’d never read To Kill a Mockingbird or Wuthering Heights ever again, they went straight into the donation pile. It feels good to get rid of things, and to make solid promises to yourself that you will not accumulate like you have been for years. It made me ask why I carted around dated grammar books year after year, or keep clothes that don’t fit anymore. It made me think too about all the things that my mother held that I now own, things that were very important to her when she was alive, like books, and pretty dresses, and photos – especially the photos. “Things” don’t matter, but sometimes those things keep us happy, inquisitive, curious, and creative.  I like looking through these old friend photos that my mother took during a time in her life when she was clearly happiest. They comfort me since she is no longer here to answer my questions, or tell me her stories.

1972

1972

Erica, 1971

Erica, 1971

my godmother, 1971

my godmother, 1971

Lynn, 1969

Lynn, 1969

Virginia Beach, 1972

Virginia Beach, 1972

amazing beehive, 1971

amazing beehive, 1971

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements


Portrait Stories
November 10, 2011, 7:27 AM
Filed under: Vintage Photo Album | Tags: , , , ,

*

When Jeff and I go trash hunting, we automatically split off – he retreats to the basement for bargains or shop tools, and I sit on the floor among stacks of books, thumbing through old cookbooks, or, with a box of photographs in my lap, hoping to find that one creepy picture that the seller dismissed as junk. Some people think it’s weird that we own so many photos of people we don’t know,  but for me, the mystery is part of why I love them. I wonder about the history of the people in these portraits, and in organizing them to fit a theme, I’m reminded that my obsessions with collecting are in the details – a wild-eyed face-off with the camera, a delicate, swollen cheek or the faded writing on the back of a card, telling me her name.

margaret coleman

*

*

*




%d bloggers like this: