Homecoming weekend! Tailgating, s’mores making, theater performances, live chess match, cider pressing, and barely time to sleep. Of course no visit to see your kid is complete without the obligatory pose in the quadrangle for photographs in the cold rain.
Water always calls to me. The solitude. The romance. The constant churning of earth beneath the tide. Every important thing in my life is, or has been, a characteristic of the sea: my daughter, a small sea bird; my brothers, bright sturdy boats; my father, a lighthouse; my mother, a mooring; my lover, a fisherman; and myself a mermaid. These roles shift over time, but unlike the shoreline they never erode. These are the people who anchor me.
What does she wear to the harbor to fetch her fisher man?
First official post for my #blackgirlinbeanboots foto-blog series. And my first time deliberately taking fotos at sunset of the setting sun. So, what do you find on the waterfront at dusk? A whole buncha fotographers (and one painter with canvas) training lens and tripod to the horizon. And there I was, three big flowers, six glitter letters to spell out the word autumn, and my little wristlet camera. Quickly, I’m arranging my shit, hoping something will inspire, nothing. I look… Keep Reading