Month: August 2008

That can’t be good.

I took this picture in the graveyard at Trinity after walking home from my interview.  I think it went well, they gave me the training dates.

I told my story of volunteering.  The funny part was, after telling them I’m not a cryer, I almost cried. And I’ve never cried telling my story before, never wanted to.  I’ve always felt good telling my story.

It’s not that I didn’t feel good this time, but clearly this time I was feeling something else.  Maybe seven years later I’m in touch with a different feeling I never had access to before.  I blame Lee Ielpi, one of the founders of the September 11th Families Association.  He’s a tear elicitor (in a good way). 

I have to send my St. Paul’s friend Jean a thank you note for telling me about this opportunity.  I have a good feeling about these people and doing this.

I like taking pictures of the Empire State Building.  I’ve been taking them for more than thirty years now.

This was taken from all the way over on the West Side, on a Sunday, so it looks pretty desolate.

Ah.  Today.  Today, today. What’s on the “to-do” list for today?  I have an interview for a docents position to give people tours of Ground Zero.

God knows if I’ll get that.  It takes a certain talent to be good at that kind of thing in the first place, and to give tours of such a highly sensitive place?  We shall see.

I have a haircut scheduled for tomorrow.  You know me and haircuts.  It’s going to be tears or smiles tomorrow.  How did Jessica Mitford used to put it? Shrieks and floods. Either  shrieks of laughter or floods of tears.  (Thank God for google.)  I want that bob that yes, everyone has, but it’s so cute.  But I need my hair to remain long enough to pull back, so I’m shooting for a longer version of what everyone else has.  I’ve had a modified version of this haircut for years, so technically, in my mind anyway, I was first.

“ACK!  What’s this thing in my mouth??  ACK!  Oh.  It’s my tongue.”  

Still playing around with my new camera, and of course the cats are a favorite subject.  Love the teeth in this shot.

I just heard from my very first college roommate!  We were students together at the Florida Institute of Technology, but after one semester we both decided we wanted to study photography and left.  (Neither of us became photographers, although I did it for a few years after college.  She went on and studied physics and worked at Bell Labs!!  VERY impressive.)

When I look back I have to ask, what was the rush??  On the one hand, I guess this is a good thing about me, when I make a decision to do something I do it, little hesitation. But still.  This was a fun place and I really liked so many of the people who went there.  Did I have to leave immediately??  

That’s me on the left, and Elisa on the right, partying one night on the beach. Oh!!  I’m wearing my shark’s tooth necklace that I had made.  I miss that.

This was the shot I was really going for, I love taking pictures of lots of shades of gray in color. But when I walked over to take the shot below a little guy came out to stop me. 

I wonder why?  What is it?  I was just drawn to the yellow, love yellow things now.  

He was kind of an icky guy, but that could have been simply because he was trying to prevent me from doing something I wanted to do.  I was mad at myself later, because if I hadn’t reacted, and got all annoyed, and had instead made an attempt to be nice to the guy it probably would have been fine.  Or fine-er than it was.  But as it was he got on the phone to either the cops or his mob bosses to report me.  I laughed because it had the feel of running to mommy.  “I told her to stop taking pictures and she didn’t!” But it was a fake laugh, a forced laugh.

Here’s a pulled back shot of the whole structure I was photographing.  There was a Department of Sanitation sign.  I’m not sure what the problem was, and the photo-guard wouldn’t tell me, only that it was private property, which didn’t seem like it could be true, it looked like City property and that’s when I thought, “sanitation … mob …”