Life is Art When . .
. . . the film scans arrive. It’s like opening a surprise from a friend who knows you deeply.
Beneath the Umbrella, Riverview Motel, Colonial Beach, September 2025
. . . the barista calls me sweetheart and I almost cry with joy for the simple kindness.
Crab Apple Tree, Colonial Beach, September 2025
Monroe Bay, Colonial Beach, September 2025
. . . my cheeks flush and I cannot hide this physical trait. I wish I could wear a sign that explains. I blush with joy and enthusiasm, when I am deep in thought and excited about a new idea. I blush with shame or embarrassment, too. But more often, I flush when someone connects with me and shows that they see me, all of me, even when I thought I was hiding those parts so well.
Add Water, Richmond, September 2025
Mellow Yellow Pumpkins, Toano, September 2025
. . . I sleep with the windows open and the chill in the autumn air swirls around me, but I am warm and cozy beneath the down blanket.
Ghost Sign, Williamsburg, September 2025
Pumpkin Oldsmobile, King George, September 2025
. . . the acorns have been falling for days from the big oak trees in the front yard. They sound like the captions from comics when they hit the roof. BOOM! BANG! KAPOW!
By-the-Pound, Toano, Septbember 2025
Mops Hanging to Dry, Williamsburg, September 2025
. . . again, the film scans arrive! And even though I worried that the pictures would all be out of focus because of my old eyes and the manual focus thing, they look pretty good. And I remember why I love film and Kodak Portra in particular. And even when some of the pictures were taken in both digital and film format, I still love the film versions best. Because they are not perfect. So far from perfect that the distance separates them to a whole different category where comparison is no longer necessary. It’s okay to love what I love. No explanations needed.