the fall
Photo by Billy
I knew it was going to happen a second before it happened; then turning I caught a glimpse of my boy William toppling backwards from the high kitchen island. William, reaching into air, careening head first toward the dull gray floor.
At first I thought I could catch him, just dive in like those football gladiators on the screen during thanksgiving meal at my parent’s house—but I couldn’t catch him.
Then during those long silent moments before he hit, that waiting, I became aware of the awful fragility of things, the shoddiness of my vigilance.
And for hours afterward— after we’d called the doctor, after we’d considered and negged a Sunday night trip to the Emergency room, as William murmured in our tired arms, in shock, yes, but otherwise fine fine fine—I felt exceedingly thankful for the undeserved grace that marks most days.
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Filed under writing | Comments (2)all you can eat
Photo by Papa Johnson
Pre-thanksgiving we enjoyed a brief visit from Grandma, Papa, Uncle, and Auntie, American Style: all you can eat.
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Filed under writing | Comment (0)after the glitter fades
CLAW sponsored arm-wresting demo at Billy’s photo show opening at The Bridge
Billy signing his lovely, glossy photo book
Photos by ‘Papa’ Johnson
What about after you’ve already ordered the prints and books, and the posted the flyers and everybody—family, friends, colleagues—has already come and gone? After you’ve cleaned up the cheese rinds and plastic cups stained with cheap red wine?
What does it mean to be an ‘artist’ then, if you even want to call yourself that?
After Billy’s standing room only opening, with all the CLAW women decked out and signing books, and doing demos, the band playing…Billy and I have been talking about what is the most important moment of creating something? What do the slaps on the back, or even (photo) book sales mean anyway?
I’m thinking maybe it’s that moment when something exciting is ending, and you are left with nothing, not even a blank page, and no idea what you might do next—that moment might be the most interesting of all.
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Filed under writing | Comments (2)reflecting
William in the worm at Carter’s mountain
Photo by Billy
Thanks REFLECTING for recognizing Jocelyn’s Stories this week!
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Filed under writing | Comment (0)C.L.A.W.
Join us this Friday evening, 6-9, at the Bridge, to see Billy’s stunning Photobook and images chronicled the amazing Charlottesville Ladies Arm Wrestlers, or check out the entire book and see where to order one here!
Also, I’m so excited for Billy for his hard work as well as getting an exclusive on the C-ville this week, co-book-of-the-week on Blurb, and a story (later this month) in Virginia Living!
Photos by Billy
(Smart design by Alloy, Text co-written by witty, talented Wistar)
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Filed under writing | Comment (1)mock election
poster from here
Last week, the school where I work held a mock election. In a sped up, time-lapse version of the real campaign, fifth grade students covered the hallways with hand printed posters and propaganda. Campaign platforms were synthesized into a few short bullets, spelled out in shaky elementary school script, but otherwise not unlike the real thing…
Vote For McCain, he’ll cut your taxes, he’s a war hero!
Vote for Obama, he’s for change, he’s for Heath-care, he’s like Robinhood (Robinhood was a good guy, no?)
Leading up to voting, passionate exchanges could be heard in hallways.
My parents say we’re rich, one child confided in another, so we’re definitely voting for McCain because Obama wants to take our money away.
We’re rich too, a third child chimed in, but Obama–he’s the black one right?—we like him. He’ll work for everybody’s good.
I listen and watch and wonder about the role of government, the responsibilities of its leaders, and the fact that this discourse is taking place in a public school. Not to mention all the public paved roads that lead to this place where rich and poor children are served side by side. I’m glad, at least, that these children are having their mock election; happy that, for the first time ever, the burnt sienna crayon was called on to render one candidate’s brown face.
In these trying times, I’m wondering where each of us may end up unless we work together for everybody’s good.
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Filed under writing | Comments (3)the (cowardly) lion
William with Billy, the St. Bernard.
Photos by Billy
Will was a cowardly lion for Halloween this year, but not so scared that he didn’t sample some tasty treats when we went tricking treating in an actual neighborhood. (This experience felt much more authentic, more reminiscent of our childhood adventures, as compared to our sellout…ahem…safe celebration on the UVA lawn last year!)
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