we got in her car on a saturday. we had planned a photoshoot at a location she had been to before: three run down sheds, beautifully decomposing, in the middle of nowhere in south winnipeg. i was game—naturally. the sky was ominous and the rain came eventually. i had curled my hair, but the humidity won and the curls fell limp. my friend is a wonderfully talented photographer. these were two of her favourite shots of me. the day of the side profile, perhaps?
to see more of her work, visit her website.
love makes you see a place differently, just as you hold differently an object that belongs to someone you love. if you know one landscape well, you will look at all other landscapes differently. and if you learn to love one place, sometimes you can also learn to love another.
- anne michaels, fugitive pieces
at sixteen, i was illegal and brilliant, my fingernails chewed to half-moons.
i took off my clothes in a late marchfield. i had secret car wrecks, secret hysteria.
i opened my mouth to swallow stars.
now i see the landscape behind me as through a claude glass — tinted deeper, framed just so, bits of gilt edging the best parts.
i see my unlined face, a thousand film stars behind the eyes.
some days i watch myself in the third person, speak to her in the second.
i say: i will meet you in sleep. i will know you by your stillness and your shaking.
– excerpts from 'this is not an elegy' by catherine pierce
annotations on a wonderful evening:
– stormy weather
– instax photos – silk tank top – lavender mojitos – a bottle of white – yellow yolks – big appetites – flushed cheeks – laughter – exposed brick