The complete season from Sundays on Film, Summer Nights.
i move through the garden in the tall of summer. it reminds me the sun has shifted. that the pods that let go of branches some time ago, made way for new clusters. it crackles with dry bits and at the same time sings in shades of green. the lavender buds of purple brown offer fragrant leaves that always bring me to the here and now. i am longing for fall but mourning summer. the mint runs laps around the strawberry patch and i am dizzy recounting the blurriness that was August, and July, and pieces of June. summer spun laps around me. she always does. and i am back at the beginning. making the shift, again.
outtakes from Sundays on Film Cinestill 800 Tungsten
outtakes from Sundays on Film, Kodak Portra 800
outtakes from Sundays on Film, Cinestill 800 Tungsten
open windows. moonlit skin. carnivals. karaoke, al fresco. grasshoppers. more light. ice cream. ice cubes. bare feet. free time. fresh air. flip flops. outside. all night.
I visited the backyard of my old haunts and hizzy, recalling days when my ocean view was from the vantage point of my studio apartment porch – in the alleyway between old buildings no longer standing. when coffee and conversation was exchanged between neighbors through slid-open windows. when we were hungover, happy and hopeful, stoned on freedom and high on morning coffee.
Hermosa, you are in my heart, protected memories in a treasure chest of a younger me searching for herself.
these days… I trod new trails to the same truth.
springtime, my mind resonant with “of the people, for the people”
mapping my west coast senses to the pulse and majesty of Mid-Atlantic life.