Day 136
Date Taken: 7/6/12
Setting: Summerbridge
Thoughts: Jake was doing an egg drop with his classes. I was brought back to 6th grade. I have a vivid image of some of the male teachers standing on the roof, hucking everyone's project off of it while we all stood around hoping our designs would keep out eggs protected.
The kids got a kick out of it. They were sprinting from the drop room to the landing pad, excited to see if their design had preserved their eggs. They unwrapped them as quickly as they could (although quickly takes a while when you use an entire roll of masking tape to attach two cups), and held up their eggs triumphantly if it survived. It was pretty awesome.
Day 137
Date Taken: 7/7/12
Setting: Somewhere in Swarthmore
Thoughts: Earlier in the day, Court, Matt, Brian and I went to to breakfast at a glorious little cafe in Bethlehem. Next to us was a young couple with a small baby. Honestly, probably one of the ugliest babies I've seen. It was just its facial expression, it was all bug eyed and seemed to indicate that poop was coming in the near future. I shiftily took some pictures...but, I felt it was probably wrong to post them. So, instead, here is the only other picture I took that day. Not really sure why...but, here it is.
Day 138
Date Taken: 7/8/12
Setting: On the road
Thoughts: Thanks anonymous car drivers, for sharing violent creepy imagery with the rest of us...that really serves to brighten everyone's day. (Sarcastic clap)
Date Taken: 6/30/12
Setting: South Philly
Thoughts: Brian and I had just spent a long night in his sweat box of a room in his (now) old apartment. Neither of us got much sleep, and I ended up waking around 5 am. I climbed out on to the flat roof outside the third floor window into the mercifully cool morning. I sat for a few moments, looking at the city skyline, breathing in the day, and allowing myself to feel the full weight of my excitement about moving into our new apartment and first home together.
I went back into the room and woke Brian to come sit with me on the roof. We spent those precious moments together in the morning air - just us and sleepy city. When we headed back inside we kept packing and then headed out for an early breakfast at a delightful little bakery around the corner. We had some of these delicious treats, then later, found ourselves behind Decepticon...
We spent the whole day sweating and moving and moving and sweating. It was satisfying to do almost the entire move ourselves. My dad helped us move the bed, but other than that, we were able to move our lives into our new apartment by ourselves. There was something so real adult lady and fella about packing up our worlds and carrying them into our new shared space. I felt a sense of shared ownership over that space and over the move itself.
The move also made me ultra aware of all of the crap I own. I have way to many belongings. I am still attached to so many of my possessions...for no real reason. I left so much at my dad's house, which I know I will have to sort through and deal with later, but even still, I have way too much. I suspect it will be quite fulfilling to purge some of those belongings when I return from Summerbridge and have some quality time in the apartment.
Date Taken: 6/10/12
Setting: Lehigh
Thoughts: Summerbridge started on Monday. The last 3 days have been hectic, very hectic. For the last four summers, every day at Summerbridge has ended with me sitting at my desk and just staring at the wall. If I don't feel this way at the end of a day - totally and utterly exhausted - then I am not doing my job correctly.
The unfortunate byproduct of being so busy though is that I make very little time for myself. When I don't make time for myself, I become infinitely more impatient. When I am impatient, I don't like myself nearly as much as I normally do. I work hard to be helpful to others, to be kind, to do things for others that will make them smile, but when I am impatient, I am thinking far too much about myself to be much good to anyone else.
On these kinds of days, I have to remember to recognize the simple beauty around me - a bird nesting above a light fixture, the sun peeking out behind a cloud, small pink flowers in a beam of sun. These things are simple and intricate, delicate and powerful, a reminder of how blessed I am and how important it is to pay forward those blessings and the kindnesses shown to me.
Date Taken: 6/8/12
Setting: Somewhere...on the road...
Thoughts: I love when I see giant trucks...with liberal drivers.
Sometimes, when I am listening to 90s pop radio on Pandora, a truly great song comes up and I have to commemorate listening to it by taking a picture of the screen. This particular song will now forever remind me of a series of videos I created with Taryn, Cassie, and Kara. Kara was really into the youtube videos that were spoofs of David Blaine street magic. I was making a psych up for the field hockey team when I was a coaching and consulted with Kara to create a spoof of those spoofs.
We recruited Cassie to play the other guy and Taryn to play David Blaine, crafted a script and had a blast filming. We ended up making 2 more in the following years. In the second video, we took DB to the streets. We filmed a scene in which Kara and Cass were driving and DB had magic-ed himself into the car. He makes the car go around a traffic circle multiple times, freaking out Cass and Kara, and then magic-ed some child's neon dance costumes onto their bodies. In the next scene, Cass and Kara realize they are wearing the costumes, scream, jump out of the car and start running around frantically. DB turns to the camera and prompts us to watch. He then forces them, with magic to dance to Be My Lover, in their child's neon dance costumes, in a vacant Lehigh parking lot, with Taryn dressed as a man...
It. Was. Awesome.
While the videos were ridiculously funny, the best part of the whole process was getting to spend more time with these three ladies. These videos gave us a reason to get together, be creative, laugh, and just generally get to know each other on a level we might otherwise not have.
I cherish those moments - the times when I get to see my friends in a new light or spend time with them outside of our normal contexts. There is so much I don't know about my friends, even the ones I spend the most time with or think I know the best. Sometimes, when I get to spend time with a friend one-on-one, I like to ask three questions
1. What do you like about yourself?
2. What do you fear?
3. What do you think will be the same about you no matter the circumstances?
I like to ask these questions because I think that people generally don't know the answers or spend the time thinking about who they are and want to be. When I was teaching a class of seniors a few years back, I was shocked by how little these students new about themselves, particularly the young women. These young women had bloated resumes - multiple sport athletes, honors and awards, straight A's, extracurriculars, community service - yet, they didn't know what they liked and didn't like, what they felt, what they wanted and didn't want.
It is alarming to think 17 and 18 year old women only have vague ideas about their own personality and the kinds of women they want to be in the future. They are headed out into the world, many of them are headed off to college. In that world they will encounter all manner of problems including drugs, alcohol, sex, food choices, and finances. Of all the potential dangers, sex is the one that concerns me the most.
For the most part, basic education does not include sex education or discussions about sexuality. Sex and sexuality in mainstream media are portrayed in unrealistic ways that may cause confusion about the self and sex itself. If high school students do not know anything about their personalities, if they don't know what makes them happy, what makes them sad, what they want in life, the ways that they want others to treat them, how will they engage in meaningful and safe sexual practices? How will they define limits and boundaries in all areas of their lives? How will they make important, informed decisions about their lives?
So, when I get the chance, I like to cut the fluff and ask people what they know about themselves. I like to think the answers bring me closer to my friends and that in turn, they we are both able to learn more about ourselves.
Date Taken: 5/30/12
Setting: Conshohocken
Thoughts: Brian and I were headed to somewhere, or from somewhere...we were on the road again. We pulled into this familiar shopping center and grabbed a bite to eat. I realized I hadn't taken any pictures the whole day and was hoping to see something interesting. After a few silly pictures, I noticed some flapping and squawking. When I looked up, I discovered a flock of birds perched in and on this sign and happened to catch one mid-flight.
I find flocks of perched birds both utterly beautiful and utterly alarming. Once, I was walking in the neighborhood behind my dad's house when I heard a similar, if not more distinct and audible, rustling. I glanced up into a giant tree and to my abject horror noted that at least 10 large buzzards were settling into the branches. The thing that scared me was that they were settling down in that way that birds do when they are about to be angry because you stepped too close to their nest. They were half raised up on their legs, flapping. There was a bit of a scuffle in the tree among the birds and a few flew into some nearby branches.
As I walked beneath them, I stared up at them and as I usually do with deer, I sent them some good vibes and tried to convey my desire to simple pass by without bothering them. Looking up at these shockingly large birds reminded me how powerless I really am in the scheme of things. If they had wanted to, those birds could have done some serious damage, like most wild animals could have.
So when I see birds perched in odd places, I wonder what they are waiting for. Perhaps I should be more concerned with where they are coming from or where they are going. I suppose they aren't really any different than us in that regard.
Despite my unease around this kind of grouping, I generally have a profound reverence for birds. After my mom died, I saw more (or maybe just noticed more) hawks. I was walking through campus the semester after she died and found myself reaching for my phone to call her, as I sometimes did during the day. I stopped in my tracks as the realization that she would not answer, could not answer, would never answer again hit me. I could feel myself losing control when a large hawk flew directly across my path. I watched it for several minutes as it drifted in sweeping arcs around the lawn in front of me. I was transfixed and felt a pang of sadness as it winged away over the tops of school buildings, yet I felt more capable of facing the rest of the day. I believe it was my mom, that hawk, that bird that so gracefully edged into my horizon and deftly beat the air with its powerful wings, alternating between long sweeping strokes and gliding.
This is the way we communicate now. A powerful bird in flight is the only way my mom can ever be adequately described. She had been through hell and kept flying. She was strong, so damn strong. Although a lifetime of verbal and sometimes physical abuse at the hands of her mother had scarred her deeply, she broke that cycle and became the mother she never had. She not only raised me, but respected me. She taught me that love, genuine love for someone should always be shared. She taught me to stand up to injustice, to get feisty, to make my voice heard. There was a power and grace to the way she conducted herself.
During life, she was a bird whose wings had been clipped, and in death, she is finally free of the restrictions that tied her down as a child, the restrictions that put limits on what she could do and who she could become. She never put those limits on me, I only wish she could be here so that she could see me achieve what she was never given the chance to.
It isn't just birds that remind me of her, but nature itself and the sky in particular. In the past years, I have taken a particular interest in the colors and shapes in the sky. I feel small when I look up and take in the magnificent streaks of colors, simultaneously fierce and soft, contained and unruly. I feel connected to something greater, I feel connected to her. I just think there has to be something more than this earth when that kind of beauty can spontaneously exist, lasting only long enough to give a taste of the incomprehensible magnitude and beauty of the sun's palette, just long enough to feel the emptiness that is left when those colors slip into the dark night sky.
Date Taken: 5/29/12
Setting: Center City
Thoughts: After spending the evening in Bethlehem, which started out sunny and beautiful, my dad drove me back down to the city. We traveled through heavy rain, weaving around the corners of Kelly Drive as we edged our way closer and closer to the heart of the city.
Our time together in the car is often a sacred time for us. As a child, my dad would take me with him when he went to deliver his custom furniture to clients. He liked the idea of exposing me to all different kinds of people and places, which as it turns out, seems to have been beneficial since I find it so easy to get along with and appreciate all different kinds of people. The Traveling Wilburys and Sting so often provided the background music to our trips, and when we arrived, I would entertain myself outside or with small toys people would offer. I'm pretty sure I spent an afternoon outside someone's home trying to make a small pocket in the earth for a fallen robin's egg.
Music, it turns out, is a powerful reminder of so many of my memories. When I hear particular songs, I am transplanted right back into my dad's truck or my mom's hair salon. I only get small snippets of those memories, but those snippets are enough to remind me of how deeply engrained those childhood memories are within me.
Later, as I got into sports, my dad would drive me to lessons and games, to practices and teammates' houses. As a sophomore in high school, I would go to school all day, go to school soccer practice, get in my dad's car, drive for an hour to softball practice, get in the car 2 hours later, come home, eat, and do homework. We spent many a night traveling the highway. Sometimes the radio would be on. My dad has the habit of turning down or turning off the radio when he doesn't like the programming on a station, rather than try to find something else. So oftentimes, we sat in silence, or rather, I would put on my headphones and fall asleep. He would navigate us home, steady as always, and wake me when we got home.
Although we didn't say much on these rides, there was much that passed between us. We formed a bond on the road and were able to share the adventures that sports brought. This picture just reminds me of that fact.
Date Taken: 5/21/12
Setting:
Thoughts: My dad was driving me into the city on this particular day. He pointed out the haze around the tops of those buildings. This picture isn't terribly profound, I just thought, like my dad, that this image was interesting, so here it is. I've taken pictures of this area before, I suppose it is nice to just see the same things in a different way sometimes.
Date Taken: 4/23/12
Setting: the city of brotherly love...or of eating babies...
Thoughts: I was driving down Kelly drive toward center city and couldn't help but admire the construction of Philadelphia. The entrance into Philly when driving on 76 or Kelly Drive is nothing short of spectacular. It doesn't matter how many times I travel that road, I am always enamored with the sleek beauty of the Schuykill river, the multicolored clothing of the joggers and bikers that populate the Fairmount Park trail, the sheer height of the skyscrapers that tower over the inroads that bring me closer to the heart of the city.
On this particular day, I found myself traveling straight toward city hall. It is an angle that I have never really appreciated before. I am always concentrating so hard on figuring out where I am going that I usually miss this long drive full of the world's flags. On this particular day, I snapped a series of pictures all the way down this road. Each picture brought City Hall a little closer.
I like this second picture for a couple of reasons. First of all, I clearly got my finger in the shot at the top left corner. Nice. I could have edited it out, but then I figured that the unedited version was a much more accurate representation of what actually happened in that moment when the image was captured. I also love that the fountain in LOVE park was on full blast...actually, up close, its a little frightening.
As I glanced around the intersection, I noticed this pair. I just loved that here I was, snapping pictures of the city in my car, and then there is this lady, snapping pictures of the city from the street. I wondered if these two were friends, or lovers, native Philadelphians, or tourists. I wondered where else they stopped and what else made its way into the background of their pictures.
| | This situation reminds me of an episode of Spaced with Simon Peg (you know the funny British guy in Hot Fuzz and Shawn of the Dead and Paul). I've only watched the one so far, but, I did quite enjoy it. The main character Tim breaks up with his lady and meets a lady named Daisy, also down on her relationship luck. They agree to pose as a couple in order to rent a flat and they go around the city, taking pictures of themselves in order to fool the landlord into thinking they are a real couple. | And then...there's this guy. I pass this mural probably about 4 times a week...and every time, it disturbs me...because I always wonder....is he about to eat that baby?
Then, I happened to be sitting in the car and noticed them at a different angle. It was interesting to see the contrast between the significant height of this mural when I am standing next to it and its miniscule size when reflected in a car mirror. I have been working hard lately to notice little things like this reflection and the contrast in heights. This image reminds me that a change in perspective can make something so big seem much much smaller.
Date Taken: 4/20/12
Setting: Bethlehem and Blue Bell
Thoughts: I started the day bright and early and headed off to do some Summerbridge recruiting after crashing at Josh's house the night before. I love the location of this particular house. It is right off campus, up on top of the hill, looking down over South Bethlehem. From his stoop, I had a perfect view of the steel mill off in the distance. When I look at it from a distance, it reminds me of my ill fated attempts at taking Spanish class my freshman year. After being funneled into my third and fourth choice classes, I found myself in a product design class during my first week of college. After the professor mentioned that we would need to go out and buy wood and metal beams for projects, I knew I had to get the hell out of that class.
I somehow managed to transfer into one of the most popular subjects on campus - Spanish. This...was a stupid idea. I had taken Japanese from 6th-12th grade...not Spanish. The little Japanese I did know would of course, not help me in any way, particularly in Spanish class. I suppose I figured that if I started in elementary Spanish - that is, if I started from the beginning - then maybe it would turn out to be a good experience. It was not. I had class at 8 am four mornings a week...with a room full of people who had taken four years of Spanish in high school and were lazy...and pretended I didn't exist...
Every time I got off of the elevator on the fifth floor of Lewis Lab, I would sigh, take my seat, and stare out the window at the steel mill, which always seemed to reflect my mood with its broken facade and the thick dark mist that clung to its stacks. They provided some semblance of comfort as I pretended I was there instead of in the classroom, pretending to find something important in my bag when the teacher was asking for answers.
Luckily the professor was very kind and when I turned in my final exam, which was mostly in English...not Spanish...she gave me a pat on the shoulder and thanked me for "hangin in there and stickin it out." Mercifully, she did not fail me, but to this day, it remains the one true blemish on my otherwise sterling academic record.
Ah yes, Butztown and Barnsdale...
These two pictures were taken on the North side, which is drastically different from the Southside. There is green everywhere, lanky trees whose limbs hang down over the road, brick sidewalks and quaint shops, giant old homes that resonate with an air of authority and importance. What I love about this particular road is actually the cemetery alongside of it. I will take pictures of it in the summer; the pictures from the car in passing would not have done it justice. This particular cemetery has served as a place for me to sort out my thoughts, a place where I can escape from the constant flow of noise that seems permeates every aspect of life. I like to walk through it in the rain. That kind of weather just seems fitting. I wander through the old headstones, always wondering where H.D., the famous Moravian poet (who by the way is brilliant), is buried, thinking about all of the lives lived and stories that are buried beneath my feet. It is strangely welcoming, as if the people buried there are looking down, just happy to have some company for a little while.
Whenever I cross over the New Street bridge, I like to look over at the Steel Mill. In the mornings, on the way to Summerbridge, it fills me with a sense of peace, a sense of excitement for the day. This isn't necessarily a great picture, but I like it. The steel mill takes on so many different shapes and colors, it encapsulates so many different moods and emotions.
Finally, I took these in Blue Bell. I took a walk to the market (my friends make fun of me for saying market - "what are you going to the farmers market??") and passed this tree on the way back. A few days earlier, Brian commented on the unusual red color of the leaves, particularly since they stood in stark contrast to the cold grey sky. The sunlight illuminated the leaves in a way that made me stop in my tracks. I just think that these are some beautiful images.
Date Taken: 4/13/12
Setting: Swarthmore College
Thoughts: I was driving to Philly to meet up with Brian and noticed that half of the sky was cloudless and the other half...was not. It was kind of cool. It felt like I was driving toward a better day.
We didn't have much time to spend together before he had to be at work, but we decided to stop at Swarthmore and soak in some sun. We laid out a blanket under a tree near some athletic fields and relaxed together, laughing, snuggling, and just generally soaking up each other's presence. The moment was much too short, but it was glorious and soothing and wonderful.
I like this picture because it reminds me of high school soccer practice. The athletic fields at the high school are laid out in a C around the school. There is a small section of woods between the school and the back part of the C. We used to stomp down through a small trail in the woods to our fields, which felt secluded despite the fact that we were bordered by fields on both sides. I have vivid memories of laying down in the grass on days like the one in this picture and taking in the individual blades of grass directly in front of me, looking out beyond those blades and seeing them stretch out into one giant see of green. A light breeze would blow across the surface, the sun warmed us, the smell of dirt and grass and sweat rising up around me in the spring fragrance that colored my youth.
When high school was over, I was ready to leave it behind. It wasn't all that bad and it wasn't all that good. I had friends in different groups. I played sports. I loved spending time in the dark room developing my own photos but I hated math. I loved seeing my older teammates in the halls, but I walked fast to get from place to place in order to avoid any unnecessary encounters. I went to a semi formal alone and felt awkward as ass, but I went to the prom with a friend who took a great picture with me, danced whenever I wanted to dance, treated me with respect and who will always hold a special place in my heart as the man I went to Senior prom with. High school was a series of ups and downs that seemed to negate each other and leave me with the sense of a very level, even high school experience.
But out of all the experiences I had in high school, playing soccer was one of the very best, and one that I carry with me as an adult. I had been playing soccer with some of my teammates since we were children. We generally got along and had fun together. We worked hard and fought some battles together on the field. One of my closest high school friends, Kate, was my sweeper and whether it was in field hockey or soccer, she always protected me and always knew how to read me on the field. She once told me, when the ball is coming in and I hear you going "uhhhh, uhhh" I know I am supposed to get it. She was absolutely right. During my most insecure moments on and off the field, she was a support system I could count on.
Our coach taught me so many lessons about life and about taking pride in my actions and myself. In the winters, Kate, me, and some of our other teammates would do a winter workout program with him that took us around the hilly streets of Ambler, through the halls of our school, and up and down the stairs in the stadium and the auditorium. Before the season started, he would bring us all into his classroom and give each of us a binder filled with important information about the upcoming season and articles about the team. Each cover was tailored to each individual. One year we walked in to find our middle school selves staring up at us from the binder...a truly horrifying and hilarious moment. He didn't yell, but to hear him calmly say that he was disappointed in us could cut so deep. I still remember him saying this after we had lost a game and were laughing and carrying on during the bus ride home. I was so ashamed of myself. I deserved to be. It was a matter of pride. We lost because we did not bring the best that we had to the field. It wasn't funny. It was pathetic. He taught us to respect ourselves and the game and each other. He embodied the sayings I found taped up in the Lehigh locker room. As I laid there thinking about the past, I cherished the fact that in the present, I was lying next to a man that loves me and whom I love, a man that makes silly faces and makes me laugh and thinks that I look good in these goofy over-sized bug eye glasses. This moment wasn't a terribly long one, but it was a damn good one.
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