vision

Photography of Iceland's volcanic rivers by Andre Ermolaev

I came across a photograph today,

aerial Iceland, ash, river, sea.
It took hold like images sometimes do.
Appearing on the dark inside
of my eyelids, a voice

familiar yet cool and wide,

drawing me to things cobalt or cream; 

flapping on the periphery:
a volcano, a road,
a slow s-curve. 

It partnered with Antartica
seen from space. 

Glowing in my mind
like a bulb I hadn't meant to look at directly

or for so long.

Antartica seen from space

My children are asleep, 

my husband also on the coral-colored couch. 

Tomorrow is the Fourth of July
and outside I hear explosions

I would otherwise think

was thunder. It could be thunder.

But without rain or electricity battering

the curtains, I remember tomorrow.

 This is Manhattan,
not some sleepy suburb with teenage boys

with illegal fireworks in the empty lot
along the river. 

Who here is already celebrating

without a host of police swooping in?

Rows of windows looking 

at nearly every space; nothing empty,

nothing left unseen. 

My son is restless
in his sleep, and calls words I cannot

make out. Like the blue shadows

of volcanoes or continents

surrounded by sea.
I close my eyes.

A bloodless hawk,

steely drone or satellite, shutter

snapping. I see the slow drift

of colors over land, soft

and warm, a shape

familiar.

photo friday: cool colors

photo friday: doors and windows, entries and exits

How to choose only five entries and exits? I had so many windows and doors to choose from, even after I limited myself to shots I took this week. We visited Wave Hill over the weekend—as we often do—and the first, third, and fifth shot were taken there. The blue-framed window in the last shot may be my favorite window to photograph (if you find yourself as taken with it as I obviously am, you can see other images of it here, here and here). And the shot of Isaiah looking out the window at the Hudson River was taken from our garage (that is, the parking garage where we pay good money to house our car—there are reasons to be glad you don't live in Manhattan).

Next week's photo Friday theme: all things patriotic and national, Rockwellesque, or just red, white, and blue. This way you can do double-duty at whatever barbeque or picnic you might find yourself—that is, if you happen to be in the United States for the Fourth.

photo friday : true blue

Blue. Blue is pragmatic, ubiquitous, utilitarian. The color of recycling bins and bicycles, scaffolding beams and wheelbarrows, umbrellas, uniforms, business mens' suits. The signage of grocery stores and banks is broadcast in blue. Postal boxes, vinyl tarps, sandbags, dumpsters, blue, blue, blue. Denim is blue, the sky is blue. Everywhere I look there is blue. But to my whimsically-trained eye: too often uninspiringly so.

This week I bought a blue dress, four blue mugs, and a blue car. Our lovely cherry-red car is being traded in for a newer model and after looking at the banal color choices available (must there be so many silver, black or burgundy cars?) I selected the "graphite blue." Which of course was not available on the lot and had to be shipped in from somewhere else, adding an extra cost. Blue was my non-negotiable stipulation.

Next week's photo Friday theme: wood.