technicolour conversation...
saturday:
"the waves are small"
" Isn't the garden beautiful right now?"
"have you seen the hummingbirds on the orange cactus?"
"the bees are so loud."
" i think the waves will be bigger, later."
"the bees are so loud."
" i think the waves will be bigger, later."
from the kitchen window i watch him learning
whilst i bake.
this is how they manage to finance their trip to oregon
for the shakespeare festival
hmmm ...
"what do we charge for a muffin like this?
and have you practiced your viola?"
"if owen is home i want to surf."
"if owen is home i want to surf."
"the clothes will only be as nicely turned out
as you hang them"
"what time do we need to be there?"
"is there time for surfing?"
this is the pleasure
of a technicolour conversation
with a son
on saturday.
of a technicolour conversation
with a son
on saturday.
What I take away from this series is how the boy's cotton hoodie in "the laundry" speaks so accurately of the air in the sunshine of this marine setting just north of the Golden Gate. The same is true of how the muffins speak of the appetite which would have expired by now in beach settings of comparable latitude on the Atlantic coast or on inland lakes in later May. Both of these signals address the crystalline bracingness of this paradise in indispensable ways, which may be lost in landscape photographs of seemingly identifiable splendor, when so near to the west, just two low mountain ranges away, some of the most beautiful red wines on earth are grown for this very reason. Oh, no. It's very endlessly comprehensively fresh. I appreciate your inclusion of these variables. I cry, but I appreciate it.
ReplyDeletedear laurent
ReplyDeleteone hesitates to even try here, at this time of year...
but i have not said a word about spring
and it's glory.
as you know, it is not possible to make any sort of photo that doesn't seem like mere platitudes in this splendor.
xox
B
These make me sigh...
ReplyDeleteAnd I know why.
Just one more wave
ReplyDeleteOne more
He says