Category Archives: Summertime
Clutches of middle school girls wore homemade, sparkly shirts and shouted with excitement. Shorts were universally short, and boys in tight pants drank sweet drinks hiding vodka*. Performers sang sexy songs about parties and sex, someone took a shot onstage through a beer bong, and my sister and I laughed and danced because that’s what you do when you’re surrounded by glitter and neon and nearly grown-up children’s excitement. An opening act relaxed drinking beer on their tour bus, joking about shows and each other, and employees enforced rules. Couples wrapped themselves in each other and made out intensely, ignoring streams of girls stalking by in heels and ripped fishnets. Ke$ha shouted “I fucking love you guys – now everyone go get laid!” and later, dads crossed their arms and waited by SUVs for their children to emerge and climb inside, shouting and singing through crowded parking lots.
*Allegedly – but I was a teenager once. So I think I know.
“Ah, to be 80 again!” My husband’s grandfather, Jim, wasn’t feeling well. His ribs hurt and he’d slept poorly, but he was glad to talk while his wife moved the morning’s orange juice and vitamins around the kitchen. He didn’t like being in pain, and he was honest. “How do you feel?” I asked. “Not good,” he answered, dispensing with both complaints and pretense.
So we adjourned to the living room to talk about birds, one of his favorite topics. “Crows are the smartest of the birds, you know.” I did know, because he loves crows, but I like to listen to him and he continued. “They have their own language. I shot that one myself.” He gestured toward a crow mounted above the refrigerator with a sign reading “Nevermore.” He did shoot that one and others, having lived, hunted, read, raised eight sons and retired on a farm in Virginia.
Later we watched from the window as a muscular black snake wound up a post and into a bird house, blue birds flapping frantically overhead. “Should I scare it off?” I asked, trying to find the right balance of rural acceptance and city-person panic. “It’s too late now,” he said. “He’s eaten the eggs.”
When Jim was finished entertaining, I bothered Bunny until she let me photograph her in the garden where she spoke kindly, and watered flowers.
I went to Charlottesville, VA for the LOOK3 Festival of the Photograph. At first I barely knew anyone, but after a few days of swimming and talking and looking and thinking, I did.
This weekend, I photographed reenactors in Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery. They set up camp, marched and answered my questions about their petticoats to commemorate the 150th anniversary (or sesquicentennial, if you prefer lots of syllables, which I do) of the Civil War. There are 4,500 Civil War veterans buried in the cemetery.
Last summer I went to Truro, MA. I was a little stuck and needed to spend some time on the beach in the evening. So this is what I did.
Back in August, I photographed Battle of Brooklyn reenactors at the Green-Wood Cemetery in Sunset Park, Brooklyn for the Wall Street Journal. It was a hot day (remember those?) and the re-enactors marched, shot a cannon, and laid a wreath in memory of Battle of Brooklyn soldiers.
Recently, I had occasion to go on a honeymoon to Birdsnest, VA. It was very landscapey there: beautiful light and grasses – and I fought off a strong army of bugs to bring you these beautiful sights.