Completely Alone - 18 December 2021 5:35 pm
Saturday, December 18, 2021
|Completely alone, 18 December 2021 5pm|
This morning Niño and Niña were on my lap as I was having
my last breakfast before I leave tonight for Buenos Aires.
The bags are packed thanks to the fact that I have adopted
Rosemary’s secret for being organized. This was a little book called lists.
Every day she would strike out with a pen or pencil what had been done. I can
now reveal that doing that brings a lot of pleasure.
But during the day I had that lingering feeling of
melancholy as I thought of having to take the cats to the Feline Hilton (they
accept reservations but they do not serve buffet breakfast) on West Boulevard
|Niño & Niña 18 December 2021 9am|
Taking the cats was always a sad affair but this was
something that Rosemary and I did together. Coming back from an international
trip or just from a weekend in Lillooet always brought the pleasure of picking them
Today I remembered my cardiologist with a heart, who a few
weeks ago, when I saw him in person he asked me, “How are your cats?” I answered that as days passed I saw them more
as humans. Dr, Huckell corrected me, “Alex
you are becoming a cat.”
Finally the time came and I put them (this time with little
effort) into their carry/cage. I left them with the kind women that work at the
Kerrisdale Veterinary Clinic.
Driving home, arriving at my house door, when normally upon entering
I would say , “¿Niño, Niña como están?” I
was hit by the reality that for the first time since my Rosemary died on
December 9 2020 I was now completely alone.
The excitement of my trip to Buenos Aires is muted and the
only kind of positive thought I have happens when I think, “On December 31, as soon as I arrive at the Vancouver Airport I will pick
up Niño and Niña.”
And I will no longer be alone.
They were wearing earrings
Friday, December 17, 2021
|Mexico City - 1969|
that happened 51 years ago is but a vague memory for me. I have no idea how I
came up with the concept of taking portraits of my Rosemary in 1969 when our first
daughter Alexandra Elizabeth was perhaps one year old. While I have a fondness
for film, it cannot compete with digital images that have the date and time in
what is called File Info.
remember that if you look closely to the last three exposures on the left that
Alexandra was doing what most babies do as often as they want.
these portraits in our second rented apartment that was on Herodoto Street in
the not yet fashionable Zona Rosa of Mexico City.
can confirm without having to test my memory is that these were the first ever
nude photographs I had ever taken. And obvious to anybody into the details,
both were wearing pearl earrings. It has been a custom to pierce female babies’ears when they are born in the hospital in Latin America.
Because of my trip to Buenos Aires on 18 December to 31 December I am writing blogs now (this one today Friday January 14 2022.
The Linearity of Time & a Microwave
Thursday, December 16, 2021
Heraclitus of Ephesus said, "You cannot step into the
same river twice, for other waters are continually flowing on.”
In modern times we have modified Heraclitus with “That’s
water under the bridge.”
I have been always fascinated by time and its consequence in
From my place on my bed, with my two cats, I am able to look
at portraits of my family that I took long ago or at least 8 years ago. I see
them as memories that become graphic if I can touch copies or simply look at
the framed images.
In this last year I have been having no relief in living
alone with my cats (they do help, but) and no Rosemary. I wonder what images
Heraclitus might have seen in his mind and what others from early Greek
painting and sculpture. Was he limited in his memory?
With my scanner I have been finding and putting into my blog
early photographs I took of Rosemary. I look at them with some degree of
pleasure but with a lot of grief. Definitely time is linear in one
direction and I cannot go back to what
or how it was.
But in the middle of the night I had this vision of a
somewhat exception to time’s linearity.
I often do not finish my mug of tea and hours after I reheat
it in the microwave. Is the re-warmed tea a present version of the past?
I am not cruel, only truthful - Sylvia Plath
Wednesday, December 15, 2021
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful‚
The eye of a little god.
A Red Roof & Red Hair
Tuesday, December 14, 2021
Many writers including Joan Didion have written some form
of this, “I write because I want to know what I am thinking.”
Many who inspect my photographs in my blogs just look at
them. The writing perhaps is tedious so they avoid it. To me that is not
important. Writing gives me a sense of purpose. It helps me make some sense of
my life this far.
Today I found these two colour negatives which I shot in
Austin, Texas sometime in 1959. On the left is Old Main, where my dormitory and
classes were at St. Ed’s High School. It was a Roman Catholic high school that
in the late 60s ceased its activity to become part of a very good liberal arts
university, St. Edward’s University.
I like the juxtaposition or the closeness of these two
negatives. On the right is the back of Mr. Marshall’s head. He was the only lay
teacher I had while at St. Ed’s. He taught me English Lit and writing but I
remember him fondly for having exposed us to an excellent Civics. To this day I
understand American politics, its Constitution and anything connected with misdemeanors,
homicide and other terms used in the American law system.
Mr. Marshall had a temper which he controlled. But you knew
he was angry when his face turned to a similar shade of red like his hair.
In all my exposure to his terrific classes I remember the
one time he told us a joke. As he had been a soldier in the US Army during
WW-II he told us that when they liberated Paris there was a famous street
called Chance for Easy Lay.
I have always been fascinated by red hair. My mother
frequently told me that I had had a sister who was born dead. Her name was Victoria, and she had red hair.