Monday, November 29, 2010

Socially Acceptable Caveat

We're clearly missing a caveat on the list of socially acceptable ways of starting a conversation:
"I don't want your advice on this issue, but I want to tell you about my problem..."
I'm led to believe that it isn't on our list because it's fairly modern.

Leaving

Would you rather be left for good, or left and returned to repeatedly? It's not fair that you mentally and emotionally disappear, but still sit there with that abandoning look on your face.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Honey

On the way to work, I pass a huge field with a huge house at the end. The grass is very well kept and a mist hovers over it in the early morning, which is very haunting. Especially when you don't try to see detail in the house at the other end. It looks like a large, gray-yellow mansion. At this end there are some very odd structures that could be abandoned bee colonies for honey harvesting.

I imagine photographing a child near them, sitting quietly on a small quilt with delicate China and teacups with a beloved stuffed animal. With the large mansion in the background and the abandoned bee colonies in the foreground, it would be as if she had taken a picnic by herself and needed honey for her tea.

I think that sort of image is timeless.

Ida, Ida-Ida

Staying in someone else's house alone is surreal. She is expecting this, I think. She has to. Otherwise she would take these things with her. I rifle through her closet, drawers, kitchen cupboards. Her bookcases are particularly noteworthy. I sample her perfume and unwrap fancy soaps; I take Ida off the shelf and start to read. I critique her artistic choices, and agree with almost all of them. I open one of her photo albums and it's clear that she's been to Asia. India or Thailand. I have no hope of narrowing it down, because I have not been to either one and she has not labelled her adventures. She has no need to. I'm sure she remembers where she's been.

Aside from the perfume and soaps, I've borrowed 3 eggs, a few tablespoons of butter, and I've spilled red wine on what appears to be a stain-proof couch. Very, very comfortable and forgiving, right in front of the fireplace. How lovely this place is.