back | 09.30.03 | next

self portrait, again

self-reflection.jpg

back | 09.29.03 | next

back | 09.28.03 | next

setting the mood

candle.jpg

back | 09.27.03 | next

back | 09.26.03 | next

the ceremonial breaking of the pinata

pinata.jpg

back | 09.25.03 | next

force of nature

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I found this picture as I was going through my CD archives. I was driving home with Damian one afternoon last January and we came across this on the eastern edge of Beverly Hills. The apartment building was incinerated. No casualties, thankfully. It was in the paper the next day. (I thought my picture was better.)

back | 09.24.03 | next

back | 09.23.03 | next

fly by

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Taken at Redondo Beach a week and a half ago. I'm back in real time now.

back | 09.22.03 | next

blue

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My men at Peggy's Cove (Nova Scotia) last summer.

back | 09.19.03 | next

fractured

mirrors.jpg

And so this travelogue of my weekend in Boston ends as it began, with a ghostly airport image.

back | 09.18.03 | next

real/not real

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On Newbury Street in Boston.

back | 09.17.03 | next

the seer seen

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Warning: photographer at work.

back | 09.16.03 | next

back | 09.15.03 | next

a matter of faith

wedding.jpg

This entry title inspired by Photo Friday's current topic: Faith. Isn't that the nature of a wedding, after all?

(Pictures from my trip to Boston start here.)

back | 09.14.03 | next

celebration through the trees

brazier.jpg

At my cousin's wedding.

back | 09.13.03 | next

awaiting a wedding party

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back | 09.12.03 | next

Charlie on the MTA

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Did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unlearned. He will ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston, he's the man who never returned.

My uncle put the song in my head and it's still stuck there.

back | 09.11.03 | next

underground

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A spooky T station. (T=MTA=subway)

(Pictures from my trip to Boston start here.)

back | 09.10.03 | next

an unusual conversation

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Taken in Harvard Square on a sunny summer Sunday.

back | 09.09.03 | next

the Gold Room

It's just a glorified foyer, but I've always loved the room. (Yes, we're still in Adams House. At this rate, my single long weekend in Boston will end sometime in December. Hey, come back! I was just kidding. Sheesh.)

gold-rm-stairs.jpg

gold-rm-rail.jpg

gold-rm-up.jpg

gold-rm-doorway.jpg

gold-rm-sconce.jpg

(Pictures from my trip to Boston start here.)

back | 09.08.03 | next

the echo of plates

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The dining hall was not only empty of people but of tables and chairs too. The room felt at once cavernous and too small to be the site of so many bad-tasting meals with friends and enemies. Then there were the festive occasions: faculty dinners, waltzes, the yearly Christmas dinner complete with whole roast pig with the requisite apple in its mouth (and the ritualized reading from a Winnie the Pooh story). The room fit those times better than the usual scrape of fork and knife scooping mystery meat off cheap stoneware.






dining-hall-2.jpg

I'd forgotten about the griffins. And the stiff, formal portraits. I think (though my memory is not altogether reliable on this) that this one, in the place of honor just inside the entrance, is John Adams himself, Harvard alum and Adams House namesake.

I'm having fun with these. Are you?

(Pictures from my trip to Boston start here.)

back | 09.07.03 | next

mutant golf balls

3balls.jpg

Outside the Gold Coast (see yesterday's pic).

(Pictures from my trip to Boston start here.)

back | 09.06.03 | next

clearing out cobwebs

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I was worried that with no students in residence, I wouldn't be able to get into my old college dorm (known in campus parlance as a House). No worries. A cleaning crew was there, preparing for the first day of school.

This part of Adams House is known as the Gold Coast. It was built by the Vanderbilts (in the 1880's? 1920's?) for their children and their children's friends and was later annexed by the school. I always loved the dark wood and marble. Like living inside history.

(Pictures from my trip to Boston start here.)

back | 09.05.03 | next

iconic

widener.jpg

Picture a group of undergrads giggling through the snow, dining hall trays tucked under their arms. Picture these little-more-than-children on their bellies sliding down the majestic, so-historic Widener Library steps on tray sleds. Picture wind-reddened cheeks and wind-torn hair. Picture them running up the slippery steps again and again in the dark to do it just one more time.

back | 09.04.03 | next

medieval castle

sever.jpg

Or maybe not. Maybe it's just Sever Hall, the site of various classes and seminars. The site, basically, of many and sundry doodle pads, though I suppose they've been replaced by Tetris on everyone's laptop computers. That door is a gothic gracenote in an otherwise colonial setting.

back | 09.03.03 | next

tour guide to the past

Mem-Church-tour.jpg

The strangest thing was seeing all the tour groups wandering Harvard Yard. Were they there when I was an undergrad? They must have been. Was I so myopically focused on my own little world that I blocked them out or were they so ubiquitous they became part of the scenery? Maybe they were simply more noticeable this time because classes hadn't started yet, the students were still AWOL, the Yard barren of frisbees, sunners, and study groups lolling on the lawn. And so an odd time to visit, the place inhabited mainly by ghosts from my past rather than flesh and blood people.

Well, except for those tour groups.

back | 09.02.03 | next

alien spaceship

encounter.jpg

The first of my trip pictures: in the corridor at the LAX terminal.

back | 09.01.03 | next



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