Love & Missouri

- my parents, bus & sandy


Last weekend I flew home to STL for my dad's 60th birthday party. I thought I'd set up a photo studio, and shoot portraits of their friends and our family during the party. Since a good family friend died last fall at age 58, I've been thinking about how to document my family experience better. It doesn't help, of course, that I live in San Francisco, and everyone else is anchored in Missouri.

I wasn't sure how the whole photo studio idea would blow over with the guests. Thankfully, they got into it. Mostly I shot couples, which I guess is to be expected, but it was interesting that so many of these couples kissed in front of the camera. Most of these people I didn't know, or, not very well. They wanted to represent themselves as one, as being affectionate. It makes St. Louis look like a lovely, loving place to be.

And I quote

Today, in the bright, white-light morning sun, I was opening the door to the big warehouse building, and watched as I swung my bike's front wheel to the left, knocking over my ceramic mug full of de-lish coffee I'd yet to drink, slicing it in two, and splattering the coffee down the steps.

"Oh shoot," I yelped, looking behind me, to the young man leaning up against the hood of a car on the street, just to acknowledge that I saw him there, watching me.

"That's alright," he said with an emotionless, clear-eyed face. "I just got fired."

"Oh no!" I cried, with sympathy. "I'm sorry!" But that was all I could think to say. (Should I offer my condolences? Say it's going to be alright?) How likely is it that he'd be interested in my talking about the big picture? Or about appreciating the small one, and this incredible morning?

I said nothing, just swung the door open again to enter, and left the bright light and the boy behind, trudging up the steps with my bike over my shoulder for another day in the photo studio, another day of stress, another day where I don't belong. I thought of my countdown til I quit this job (121 more work days to go), before I leave this city, head for Missouri for a little while, then explore south-east asia for 4 to 5 months. I've got the itch, and it's time to go.

I'm not emotionally available to take your call right now.

Some quotes from the year past:

"Hi honey, we're watching Survivor right now. Can we call you back? It's down to the last two people. We'll call you right back. You're not calling to say you're married, or anything, are you?"

"No Daddy."

"Oh, alright then, we'll give you a call right back."

- Sunday, May 15

.....

At Planned Parenthood, the couple next to me in the first waiting room (behind 2 locked doors) sat down together with fresh coffee, and after a moment, he squeezed her hand. Then he whispered to her, "I don't like these shoes because they make my feet look big."

.....

a text message to my then lover:
"bright lipsticked w sore throat. yesterday i saw a dogfight. all this & missing you"

.....

"I don't like them because they're nonpartisan," said this woman whom I worked with at the San Francisco Democratic Party, talking about some website whose name I forget.

.....

"A world without Aunt Nita is a very sad world," said Sandy, my mother, lying on my couch, looking at my great aunt's portrait on the wall. "It's still hard to imagine a world without her." (She'd been gone for over a year)

.....

"I think this is the best vacation I've ever had," my mom said, sitting opposite me at the small table at Alamo Square Grill, which was great to hear, of course, affirming my efforts (or effortlessness), my chosen city, my way of life & apartment. And simply, me. Great too, because I was thinking it was such a smooth enjoyable experience myself. Not one argument or disagreement - just a solid line of play, relax, ice tea, coffee, making things, and talk.