The house has been quiet all day while I worked. Now, it has come to life with the cadence of domesticity. The percussive routine of drawers and cabinets opened and closed, the water from the sink running, stopping, the doors to other rooms, and outside, the coffee grinder, glasses from the cabinets, plates, all sounds either a conclusion or preparation, all unfolding as a familiar nightly rhythm.
I took the pic above at the Ritz-Carlton at Northstar. Raquel and I were walking through to meet some friends for dinner and it was just at "the moment." I stopped Rachel and pointed out that they were prepared to make the pronouncement and presumably to consummate the union with a kiss. We stopped only for a handful of seconds, but it was indeed the moment. Sure enough... I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride. One day they will construct a kitchen rhythm of their own.
Note how "meta" the above image is, a frame within the frame blocking the bride's thigh. I get less nervous at weddings when I picture the bride naked, especially during any uninvited speech I might be making.
Just picture the bride naked, picture her naked....
CS and I agreed on a subject for today's post while I was out walking the dog - I had video-called him - but now it escapes me. He is old so he sees an uninvited video call as an invasion on his way of living, which is of course why I do it. He said so.
I pre-ordered a present for him for his birthday, a book of images.
Here is an excerpt to close out tonight's diary entry:
Photographer Anders Petersen was hanging out at a dive bar on the Reeperbahn in Hamburg in 1968 when someone grabbed his camera from the table where he was sitting and started taking pictures. Petersen used the opportunity to photograph the culprit—and the rest of the bar’s motley crew of patrons. The resulting project is one of the most revered photobooks of all time, a celebration of a gritty city at the tail end of the 1960s, and the cornerstone of Petersen’s storied career. The images have become classics of their genre; Tom Waits used one for the cover of his legendary album Rain Dogs. Their candidness and authenticity remain as eloquent today as when they were first published in 1978. This sumptuously produced reissue features a new foreword by Waits, and is certain to find a new audience, who will appreciate the stunning analog photography and its elegiac collective portrait of the fringes of society.
.
