It is my birthday. Same day every year. I generally don't do much special but this year I remember my sister who will not have another and it is more than bittersweet. I have reminders. We all took things that would help salve the the loss. Inanimate things that somehow might remind us of the best, most dear memories. The things that might help us remember all that she was and all that she loved. I took things and I took pictures, and there is still emptiness in all the reminders.
Diane and I, in China
On a trip to China in 1999 I was reading the Bosworth bio on Diane Arbus. We kept each other company for several weeks and a lot of miles. I was in some remote western province at an outpost hotel that was certainly basic, where few people (maybe nobody) spoke English or were used to seeing westerners. I was traveling with a limited wardrobe and often had laundry done at hotels (in the third world it’s not expensive). Around 2am I answered a loud knock at my door and confronted a young hotel employee holding an armful of my folded clothes. He spoke no English and after handing me the clothes, he gave me the bill and pointed to the total while repeating the figure I did not understand. I had not exchanged currency yet and when I held up dollars, he shook his head and repeated the figure. We did this back and forth for another few seconds, before I realized in my sleep stupor we were getting nowhere. I handed him back the clothes, waved him off with thank you’s and closed the door.
The next morning, I met my translator in the lobby and told her the story. Is it normal for hotels to deliver laundry in the middle of the night I asked? She was surprised and somewhat embarrassed, and took to the front desk to track down the laundry and the issue. When I returned from shooting that evening there was a big bowl of fruit and flowers, a bottle of wine and this broken English letter from the hotel.
"Thanks for you staying in our hotel. At first, please allowing us to make an apologize for the mistake in our jobs on be help of the Qinghai Hotel "since service and homely stay" is the principle of our hotel. So we'll take every effort to avoid making such mistake. Please accept a boundle of flower to express our sincerity. Welcome you stay our hotel next time. Thank you! 1999.4.21"
How I Remember Dad
Lucky
It's been a week. I walked up from the beach and my book and this Memorial Day Monday thinking about the Monday past. We all sat in the front yard at 77th street waiting for the vet. Lucky was slow and steady, wondering perhaps about all the attention, what had brought this disconnected family back together, here in the grass of the only home she's known. Mom and Carla had made the trip to Pungo 14 years ago to pick out a puppy when Walker was six. We'd decided that somehow six was the age he would be mature enough to care for a dog. He took to her right away, and she to him. And she to all of us. She was gracious when we brought another puppy Henry home six years later. He lifted her spirits. Henry lifted everyone's spirits. But on this Monday Henry remained inside, while Lucky lay in the grass sandwiched between the awkwardness of waiting for the end game and the awkwardness that pulls us all back together. A sedative to relax her, Walker sat with her head in his lap. Tears flowed, memories poured out. Walker pushed my camera down.
Another needle and she was lifeless. The emptiness was so heavy, for me. She'd seen her boy grow up and off to college. She'd been so sweet and head strong. And just like that, she was gone. Walker picked her up and carried her to the street and the stretcher. We let Henry out to say goodbye. He jumped into the back of the SUV where Lucky lay, and smelled his best friend. The girl who grew him up. He stood in the back of the car and wouldn't jump down.
Man in a bar with American Flag, Fayetteville
Hotels
I’ve stayed at some interesting hotels in 20 plus years of travel. And, maybe out of boredom, I’ve always photographed the rooms, good or bad, with no particular purpose in mind. Mostly the rooms, but sometimes the view. On trips to LA I’ve spent time at the Beverly Hills Hotel (saw Annie Lebovitz at the pool), and spent three days shooting at the Chateau Marmont. Joey reminds me that my check out bill was over $6000 for that fun. Mostly though my stays have been at third world dives with worn covers, thin dense pillows and not much you’d wanna look too closely at. But the other day I ran across these negs from a stay at the storied Argyle Hotel on Sunset Blvd. A deco building full of hollywood starlets in black and white, it seemed much like being in a movie. Grand views, a suite with walls that curved and gracious balcony doors that opened on views of Hollywood and beyond. I remember playing classical music loud in the early mornings as sheers danced in the breezes that stirred the day. Here’s to laying your head in different places. And the good memories of such.
february 14 2012