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somewhere over the rainbow (and other stories)

  Exactly two years ago I found myself flying through a corner of a rainbow, and landed in Oaxaca, Mexico. It was the last film festival I traveled to, a brutal and sweet experience in the harshest of realities, trying to wrap my arms around the slipperiest industry and failing magnificently. Surrounded by fresh faces and eager eyes I ran from the rooms and into the street time and again, wandering off with the camera in my bag as a companion. I took pictures of a blind man that sang on the same corner every day, of wedding parades, of an old woman waiting to see the dentist.  Literally somewhere over the rainbow, I met the ugliest answers to questions I had been dragging my feet towards for years. Cramming the most delicious food into my mouth, joking at the nightly rooftop cocktail parties, grinning like the Cheshire Cat it was all coming to an end. Actually, it had ended before it even started though - and on the plane back to New York and finally Moscow the bone-crunching undertow
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thistles

 

The sky gets bright at five. The trees seem like they are lit backwards, as if the sun is shining through some upside-down binoculars. It is the world, but not the world. Maybe no one sees it. It grows familiar as the day begins, but in that first light it is the strangest thing. Outside those windows, it is Mars or Venus not our sleepy little neighborhood.

The forest is overgrown with weeds. I see burdocks and think of Cooper, our Chesapeake Bay Retriever and how he collected the dry, barbed thistles on his ears every fall. He was my best friend when I was five. I told him everything and he listened, with big sad eyes. I see wildflowers and think to just leave them there. To let them be. To come back and see them still standing or rotten in a few days. It is what it is.

My feet feel strange at the ends of my legs. My breath smells foul in this mask. My stomach turns, empty. I don't want to be out here. Maybe I am turning into Harold with his purple crayon, and I just want to draw on the walls inside. 

Nothing makes much sense any more. 







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