self-portrait # 2: movement
February 17, 2009
ofelia and i
February 16, 2009
we climbed that red sedona rock and when we reached the top, we laughed. we laughed and we jumped and we jumped and we laughed. then, a man showed up, all pinched up in the face, and shushed us. he said the peak was an energy vortex and people traveled far distances for a chance to sit here and meditate in silence. “oooh,” we whispered. then we laughed. “too late, mister.”
* photo: sedona, arizona. february 2009.
wanderlust: arizona
February 15, 2009
up and down old town scottsdale, where a cowboy on a horse named dusty serenaded me with his guitar for valentine’s day.
* photos: scottsdale, arizona. february 2009.
feliz dia de amor
February 14, 2009
* photo: scottsdale, arizona. february 2009.
caught her in pajamas
February 13, 2009
on her tip-toes the other day yanking tangerines off the tree. “they’re not ready to eat,” my mom warned her. “give it a couple months.” but my grandma magdalena. she does things her way.
she runs (more like waddles) to the kitchen when the telephone rings, gets everyone riled up: “hurry, hurry … come, come … the animal is crying!”
she’s not to be disturbed from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m., telenovela time on channel 34. she sits in the softest spot on the softest couch and hardly moves. except when lovers kiss. that’s when she looks away like a little girl and calls them names. “descarados. i’m no good for those things anymore.”
78 years of living in a tiny village in el salvador will do that to a girl.
now she’s here. chubby feet in cotton ballerina flats. pink socks hiked high like stockings. floral robes that hide a tummy that carried 10 children, 11 if you count the one that didn’t make it. for thirty something years grandma magdalena was married. to a great man that turned evil when he drank. on her left pinky, a reminder of the night he came at her with an ax.
“the late manuel” she calls him. she hasn’t danced with another man — with anyone — since he died. she says she never will.
* photo: home. february 2009.
a few notes
February 12, 2009
about my new photography class:
first: i signed up for the wrong class. meant to register for a digital course, but ended up in film. film, as in black and white film, and huge contraptions that are called enlargers that are loaded with lenses that (i think) are somehow connected to timers that control the light that could ruin your pictures if you’re not super, super careful. film, as in my fancy new digital camera, is useless here. i literally reached for my purse straps and thought of running for the door. but then i heard the teacher say “fundamentals” and i figure i might need those. plus, the idea of working in a darkroom full of water makes me wanna throw a party for myself.
second: my teacher says people who only shoot automatic are idiots. (there’s one more fact you now know about yours truly.)
and third: she said xtlehsmflsmpfo, or something to that effect, about shutter speeds. and “once you understand the math, the sky’s the limit.” i hope she’s right. ’cause i really, really want to learn all this stuff and me and sky … we’re pretty tight these days.
* photo: angelino heights. february 2009.
rode shotgun
February 11, 2009
low to the ground like a chola, in a black jaguar down sunset boulevard today. past record studios, past movie studios, past a homeless man with matted hair that studied me and us and the car at a red light, taking it all in. up the private hill and into the parking garage to the famed chateau marmont where lunch awaited in the courtyard. so bizarre, this west side world. every time i come here, i hunt for a little piece of me. anything that might scream home, not tinseltown, but home. this afternoon, i looked up from my fancy plate and there it was, smiling back at me, singing holllaaaaaaaaa! the tiniest bottle of tabasco sauce i’ve ever seen. i poured three botellitas on my sandwich and slipped a fourth one in my purse.
up above
February 11, 2009
this sky has had me chasing rainbows lately. fat ones, skinny ones, little ones and faint ones. they halt the rain, slice through the clouds, play hide-and-seek and trigger double-takes on the highway. the other day i drove the slow lane all the way to work so i could take one in, freeze its colors in my mind. this is what you do when you see rainbows.
* photo: looking up from angelino heights. february 2009.
holy moly
February 10, 2009
i’m scared. my photography class starts tomorrow night. and for every yes there are ten nos. yes, i love to take pictures. (i’ve been short of making out with my camera since it landed on my doorstep this month.) but no, i don’t know anything about shutter speeds or apertures or depth of field or lenses or light or exposure or … you get the point. until now, i’ve been a little kid elbow-deep in finger paint. now, it’s time to wash up and join the grown-ups for the real stuff.
