Aaron gave me an edition of US News and World Report devoted to "Three Minds that Shaped the 20th Century: Secrets of Genius -- Einstein, Marx, and Freud" I'm home reading it this morning. Today is a day to mine material to use in teaching, art, etc.
Say what you will about Sigmund, he was arguably an influential thinker, and for good reason. To a young analysand, and friend of his daughters, Freud said:
"You know I always liked you very much, but I like you more now that I can see some of your problems."
For those of you who read this, and who get it, I couldn't have said it better. And I think it goes both ways.
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11.28.2007
11.26.2007
Pucker Up, Bullrock!
Here is Amity and me cozying up to Bullrock, the Moose in her front yard. His tracks are all over "downtown" Dixfield. :)
Amity and I have a wonderfully symbiotic relationship. We are intensely creative in each other's company. I am thankful to have relationships like these.
And I love being able to wear a sweater that makes me look like I'm wearing a Faberge egg. A sweater that I've had since the 12th grade. A horrible sweater, really, but in Maine, it fits right in and feels just right somehow.
PHOTO ESSAY: Dixfield, Maine
The following photographs are a selection from the work I shot while visiting Ms. Amity Beane in Dixfield, Maine over Thanksgiving Weekend, 2007.
Dixfield Honor Roll
On the Town Green Side of the Barn at the Historical Society building in Dixfield, The Dixfield Honor Roll is displayed. Oddly, the plaques are dedicated mostly to listing the types of trees planted in the Town Green.
Geneva M. Torrey
Died entirely too young, aged 24. Infants that lived for only 9 days are tragic, of course, but there is something about young women dying young that arrests me. Like 24-year-old Geneva Torrey, or 16-year old Texanna Cox, or even 38-year old Mrs. Betsey Trask. What would their lives have been? Their children's lives? They were old enough to have grown up a bit, to have had so many promising years ahead of them.
I think about how my generation views long life as almost a given. We don't think about dying young. I was 29 before a friend my age died. A few generations ago, this would have been almost impossible.
And I think about myself at 16 or 24, and everything I wouldn't have gotten to do had I lived the same number of days as Geneva or Texanna. And I think about Betsey, and how much I have yet to do between now and age 38. It makes me want to remember these women, and live a little for them, for what they didn't get to do.
Or maybe I just spent too much time around dead Victorians, and picked up a little dead Victorian sentimentality. I do know that I'm a little different these days, a little more sentimental maybe. Since I moved home and surely because I am rapidly approaching 30, I'm aware of my own mortality all of a sudden. And I did lose a friend this year, whose wedding I photographed, who had a husband and sons and a calling to save sick pets and sick people.
I've never had to think about it before, that I'd run out of time some day. I know I've always been conscious of it on some level, knowing how driven I am to do as much as possible at all times. But things as big as the fact that you are going to die can and do manifest themselves in our consciousnesses in all sorts of myriad ways.
These photographs are one of them.
Maine was more than 10 years ago in my life. I've done a lot since then. And that's a lot of time. It's important that I go to Maine. It's where photography started, where "adulthood" started. And it was a long time ago, and it's impacted everything that's come after it.
Alright . . . . Back to photographs.
Gun Racks Are Standard
With the purchase of any shiny new pickup truck in Maine. If the driver is under 18, the gun rack holds a baseball bat.
november ice
Shot by Ms. Amity Beane. It's that cold up in Dixfield. I love how fall gives way to winter in this shot. Her photography is particularly gorgeous lately. She's capturing her wintery environment so acutely.
It was my distinct privilege to tap into one of my creativity streams, in Maine, with Mainegirl. I got a lot done, and I love getting a lot done.
I got a little bonus today when I realized that other than wrapping up some Incompletes, there was no grading at CTU today. Their first assignment is only due tonight. As usual, I recently hit another low point with CTU, but have since rebounded to find myself intensely grateful for the job.
And enjoying it. I wasn't happy about losing a class, and I thought maybe it was about the money. But it's not. I like what I do. Yes, I have drama in my CTU past. Yes, it was an intensely painful experience on a lot of levels. But it is what it is, as they say. And it's definitely NOT what it used to be.
TIme to stop fighting it, Ms. Beagan. You've got a good thing going, at CTU, and overall. Time to just . . . be still.
11.24.2007
My Visit With Amity in Dixfield, Maine
The following series of pictures were shot this morning. Amity and I were eating breakfast and brainstorming when a car pulled in the driveway. It was Peter Stowell and his friend Palmer, two local historians coming to the Dixfield Historical Society to do some research today. They invited us out for breakfast, so we got dressed and headed downstairs. First, we got a tour of the Historical Society Museum, housed in the same building in which Amity rents her apartment.
We then traveled on to the Front Porch Cafe, also known as the Stowell House. Sammie and Clint own the house and the restaurant now, having bought in in 2005 after the death of Peter's great-aunt Phoebe, who lived in the house until her death at the age of 93. Sammie claims Phoebe still haunts the place, although she didn't die there.
The Front Porch Cafe is right next to the Eustis Cemetery. Amity and I rambled over there for a bit before Peter joined us and gave us a "Who's Who" of the deceased buried there. We then came back over to the Historical Society and Old Chapel Antiques next door. Bill opened the store just for us, so Amity could get the bookshelf she'd bought. I bought some amazing plaster-of-paris icons and some other odds and ends. Oh, and flannel sheets and a quilt on sale at Marden's later on.
It was a funny detour of a morning, and very Maine: from the antiques shopping to the overly-decorated family restaurant, and from the local history to the cold clear November morning.
Otherwise, we've been cooking incredibly healthy and hearty meals (as always. I am staying with Mainegirl after all). I'm catching up on blogging, as you'll notice, and the decor in Amity's house is coalescing into the charming cottage feel she wants for the place. It's been a good weekend. I miss having cell phone reception. But otherwise, a good weekend indeed.
We then traveled on to the Front Porch Cafe, also known as the Stowell House. Sammie and Clint own the house and the restaurant now, having bought in in 2005 after the death of Peter's great-aunt Phoebe, who lived in the house until her death at the age of 93. Sammie claims Phoebe still haunts the place, although she didn't die there.
The Front Porch Cafe is right next to the Eustis Cemetery. Amity and I rambled over there for a bit before Peter joined us and gave us a "Who's Who" of the deceased buried there. We then came back over to the Historical Society and Old Chapel Antiques next door. Bill opened the store just for us, so Amity could get the bookshelf she'd bought. I bought some amazing plaster-of-paris icons and some other odds and ends. Oh, and flannel sheets and a quilt on sale at Marden's later on.
It was a funny detour of a morning, and very Maine: from the antiques shopping to the overly-decorated family restaurant, and from the local history to the cold clear November morning.
Otherwise, we've been cooking incredibly healthy and hearty meals (as always. I am staying with Mainegirl after all). I'm catching up on blogging, as you'll notice, and the decor in Amity's house is coalescing into the charming cottage feel she wants for the place. It's been a good weekend. I miss having cell phone reception. But otherwise, a good weekend indeed.
A Musical History
According to a website about the town, Dixfield, Maine was home to a thriving music scene around the turn of the last century. I guess there was a local boy with a great deal of talent who taught his friends and neighbors, resulting in Dixfield being home to quite the band back in the day. Here is the sheet music for the various instruments, laid out on the floor in the Dixfield Historical Society Museum.
Vintage Sewing Machine
Made by Singer in 1911, just donated to the Dixfield Historical Society. Something had been nesting inside the table, the evidence of which was obvious when Peter opened the table and a stream of birdseed poured out.
Pantry Shelf
Amity lives in an apartment on the second floor of the Dixfield Historical Society building. This is the pantry on the first floor, where the museum and archives are located.
Her Handiwork . . .
This sampler was made by Betsey Canton Rolfe when she was 10 years old. According to local historian Peter Stowell, Betsey grew up to marry Captain Peter Trask, whose first wife, also named Betsey, is buried in Eustis Cemetery. Her grave, beside her infant son Hiram's, is shown below.
This is one of those strange connections I had in Dixfield. Peter showed us this sampler, made in 1823. After breakfast, and before I learned the women were connected, I drifted to the grave of another Betsey, who happened to be the first wife of Betsey Rolfe's future husband, Peter Trask. Maybe it's just a small town, with a limited history, but I find it an interesting connection. Perhaps the attention paid to Betsey #2 roused Betsey #1 to seek a bit of attention for herself . . . .
And Her Predecessor's Grave
Captain Trask's first wife Betsey died just before her 39th birthday in 1843. Her infant son Hiram joined her just a few weeks later. Her husband, Captain Peter Trask, married Betsey Canton Rolfe the following year.
Stowell Ancestor
I had some strange experiences in this graveyard today. Perhaps a hundred people are buried there, but I was drawn to photograph only a handful of stones. After I was done, Peter Stowell, our host for breakfast and a tour of the Dixfield Historical Society and the Eustis Cemetery, took me back through the graveyard and pointed out the exact stones I had already shot, and told me the stories behind them.
This stone had a lovely sunlight falling across it. It's the grave of 4-year old Albert Newhall Stowell, son of Levi & Sarah Stowell, who were founders of the State of Maine itself.
The Two Algernons
Thomas Cox was a founding father of Dixfield. He and his wife Almira had four children who died before reaching adulthood, including not one, but two infant boys named Algernon that died within one year.
The name of their youngest daughter, Texanna, is an unusual one. Perhaps it relates to the war that was being fought in Texas in the mid-1840's, which led to Texas ultimately becoming a US State, and not an independent nation itself, in 1845.
Childhood Illnesses
The number of children buried in the Eustis Cemetery in Dixfield is staggering. Here are four from the same family, with Palmer and Amity in the background.
Nelson Rose
He died in January 1861. According to Peter Stowell, the widowed Mrs. Rose then volunteered with the Union Army as a nurse, and went on to win acclaim for her service.
At Salty Brine State Beach, Galilee
Aaron and I headed to Narragansett last Friday for lunch at Champlin's, and then coffee at my parents' house in the afternoon. After lunch we decided to go for a quick walk on the beach at Galilee. It was clear and cold, a strong wind was blowing off the water. As we entered the beach, we saw this shape in the sand.
Beached Dolphin
We found the body of a 5 foot long bottle-nosed Dolphin washed up and half buried in sand on the shore.
Tagged Dorsal Fin
We discovered the tag on the dorsal fin, #623. Someone was tagging this Dolphin, but at what point in the animal's life cycle? I thought about calling Burke, but then debated if I should check the back of the tag first.
Mystic Aquarium Tag
Of course, I had to touch it. And call the number on the tag. Turned out the woman I spoke with at Mystic Aquarium had only just been out there an hour before. She had put the tag on the dorsal fin herself.
Nothing to Do
The Dolphin would be left on shore, where the birds could continue to peck at it. The stomach was totally out already. Nothing too foul to leave behind for scavengers and beachcombers, or for the tide to just take back again.
The End
If I'd been alone, and had my good camera, I'd have shot more pictures. I might have even tried to pry out a few teeth. I know, goulish. But how often does one find a 5 foot long dolphin half-buried in the sand at Galilee?
Death and the Maiden
Well, in this case, Death and the Tiger. This is Gracie and Sam, my cousins, dressed up for Halloween.
11.23.2007
Moonlight, Dixfield
Came to see Amity in her new place tonight. We unpacked the car, headed to the corner store for provisions, whipped up a vegan stew, and took photos in her neighborhood in Dixfield. A very good night indeed.
The Wrecker
The Gaspee Road House was torn down today. Yesterday, Thanksgiving, I went to the house with the Folks and Grandma. The wrecker was already waiting.
11.21.2007
Happy Thanksgiving!
Well hello out there.
It's been a couple weeks since I wrote, and for good reason. I started the new part-time writing/quality assurance job at the Crime Lab, so I've been doing that two days a week. There are still construction projects floating around too. Plus, I'm still working feverishly on researching various markets in which to sell my photo work. Oh, and I met someone. He's terrific and we've been spending a lot of time together.
:)
So I've been a bit pre-occupied. I have photos to upload and blogging in general to catch up on. The good news is that on Friday I'm heading to Maine to see Amity for two days, so that should straighten me out. I'll be in touch.
Time to take the Pumpkin Heath Bar pies out of the oven and start the first live chat of the new term at CTU. I hope you all have as many reasons to be thankful as I do this year, and I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.
*
It's been a couple weeks since I wrote, and for good reason. I started the new part-time writing/quality assurance job at the Crime Lab, so I've been doing that two days a week. There are still construction projects floating around too. Plus, I'm still working feverishly on researching various markets in which to sell my photo work. Oh, and I met someone. He's terrific and we've been spending a lot of time together.
:)
So I've been a bit pre-occupied. I have photos to upload and blogging in general to catch up on. The good news is that on Friday I'm heading to Maine to see Amity for two days, so that should straighten me out. I'll be in touch.
Time to take the Pumpkin Heath Bar pies out of the oven and start the first live chat of the new term at CTU. I hope you all have as many reasons to be thankful as I do this year, and I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.
*
11.07.2007
Jess and Avalon
Brian took this 7 years ago, Fall 2000 or Winter 2001, when we had just moved to Iowa. I had had longer dyed-red hair that I chopped off not long before this shot. It looks cuter than I tend to think my hair looks short. By spring I shaved my head, but that's another whole story. Not too many pix of that, for good reason :) Glad I did it though. The kitten is Avalon, who I think lives with Brian's mom in RI now. God only knows to where he's wandered, but I wish him well.
I barely recognize this girl. I look so young here. 22. It feels so long ago, like so many lifetimes ago, but it's only been a few years, really.
11.03.2007
Before Anyone Gets Too Concerned
Yes, this is an MRI image of my left knee, taken from the back. Specifically you are looking at the distal femur. It's the part of your thigh that meets your knee. And surprisingly, that nasty looking spot is nothing serious.
Anyway, I've had knee pain for years, so the doctor ordered an MRI. There is some scar tissue from an old injury, and this very big spot.
And I'll admit, it's been an interesting week since I found out about it. The good news from the get-go has been that it's nothing, a relatively common cluster of cells called an enchondroma. Completely benign. But a follow up with an oncologist was in order, along with a bone scan. Fortunately, he corroborated the initial diagnosis. Basically, it's like a birthmark inside my bone.
I wasn't overly concerned, but I did have to start to get my head around the worst-case scenario: surgery to remove the spot. Roughly 8 weeks of recovery. It was never even likely to be cancer. But fortunately, I got the best-case scenario. No surgery needed. So now that we know that the spot has nothing to do with anything, I'll follow up with the orthopedist and do some physical therapy to get it strong again.
Quite an image though, eh?
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