Saturday, August 15, 2009

Chronicles of Inspiration

When I was about 6 or 7, maybe 8, I would spend the the beginnings and ends of weekends on the Vermont Transit bus betwixt my parents. I had a walkman with some tapes of my mother's and my own to bide the time: Paul Winter's album of whale + soprano sax duets, The Talking Heads, Tiffany, and Kate Bush. One Christmas, when i was maybe 8, i think it was my father, got me a new 110 camera. You know, the flat rectangular kind. On one of those trips, I had one Kate Bush album or other cranked on my walkman and was overcome by the late afternoon sky outside the bus windows. Especially the sky and clouds outside the opposite windows. I grabbed my camera, swimming in Kate Bush singing about wolves and clouds and Heathcliff and I tried my best to capture the euphoria i was feeling. I only had the dimmest of realizations that the folks on the other side of the aisle might be a bit confused as to what i was up to and why i was taking pictures of them. But I felt no shame, i kept snapping until the light had changed or until the album ended, with that succession of octave tones, and i had to flip the tape.

I looked about like this at the time:

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