Vuelos

I don’t write and take pictures anymore, other than the small pieces that fit through the screen of a smartphone. So it’s March and I am just now looking through the photos I took in December, when we went back to Michigan for the holidays. Winter in Michigan is probably what I miss the least, but I do miss the people there, and the colors that are so bright and surprising in the middle of gray days.

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015

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Postcards from the Mitten State

I often lug my camera around, but I am really bad at sifting through the results in a timely manner.

I have also neglected this personal blog in favor of a new teaching blog. (Knowing my tendencies to neglect my personal life, this should not be a surprise.)

Spring and Summer were both chaotic and emotional, navigating preparations to move and goodbyes to students, coworkers, friends, and family. (And even while looking for jobs in warmer climates I was aware that other states might not have the same magic of a Michigan Spring.) Here are some snapshots.

Spring Planting Day Read more of this post

The Long Winter

This winter was harsh here. Like a trauma, it had to pass before I could write about it.

I took pictures. School was cancelled a lot. I spent many hours gripping my steering wheel and inching across slick roads. I lost sight of bare pavement for months.

Mostly I hid under the covers, wrapped in my red sheets, and watched the days slide by – world soft & white or wet & dark.

Discontent settled in around me, like dust on shelves. I didn’t brush it off. I wrote my name in it, on every filthy surface.

Spring came, and we got drunk on the rain and the excess warm air. Neighbors stumbled out of their doors, to shed layers, draw on the sidewalk with chalk, shout up the street, ride bikes, to sing or shoot guns, somewhere far away.

For me the dates on the calendar are pointed inward. Square boxes become curved lenses, and inside I am still disastrous. Fairy lights reflected in puddles are burning cities, for no good reason. If there’s nothing to flee, I lose direction.

This is nothing new – this is the same every year. Ice to mud to green. I relearn everything, every time.

 

the long winter - 01

Read more of this post

Season Spaces

September through December. A new apartment and communal dinners in Ypsilanti, cold sleet on Canadian beaches, bookdust and hazy skylines in Detroit, graduate work in sociolinguistics that I wish I could spend more time on. All that and more is drowned by – more than anything – the color and noise of my students.

For the first time in a long time, I have had the chance to go through the photos I’ve taken over the past few months. It’s good to see the small spaces in between the all-consuming parts of my life. The hardest parts of these months are not captured in photos. No photos of the expanses of pavement, no crumpled cars, no parking lot naps, no steering wheel tears, no grades, no spreadsheets, no adolescent angst. Maybe all those things can fade away, leaving only the residue that is beautiful – captured textures leftover from transient things like meals, dusk, autumn leaves, snowflakes.

fall01

fall03

fall18

fall02

fall04

fall05

fall06

fall07

fall08 Read more of this post

Since The Last Time You Heard From Me

I’ve spent the last few months languishing in a midwestern winter (and by languishing I mean mostly teaching and driving and teaching and driving) and a few brief explorations of warmer climates. The long lightless days have been tedious and difficult, especially in contrast to where I was a year ago, but looking back from here, they did include important and beautiful things:

Exploring new landscapes, seeing old scenes through new eyes, watching Spring creep up on us, finally opening up windows and leaving them open all night long.

blizzard

Snow Days

winter gold

Frenchies

Hangover Lights

Winter Sunlight

Ypsi Winter

Further Snow Days

Untitled

Mexicali

Mexicali

Mexicali

Mexicali

San Diego

San Diego

San Diego

San Diego

San Diego

commute

Untitled

Indoor Spring

tax day

mornings

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Untitled

Untitled

señales de la primavera

Starla '13

Untitled

356/365

12:21:12

 

The world didn’t end today, but school did for the year.

Lots of people had Apocalypse parties anyway, just in case. Certain individuals got a little too into it.

(No actual urine was consumed in the making of this photo.)

354/365

12:19:12

 

Tap Room.

353/365

12:18:12

 

Ah yes. The Pictorial Encyclopedia of Fishes of Ypsilanti. Part of the Ugly Mug’s extensive library.

350/365

12:15:12

 

Holidays in Ypsilanti are no longer complete without Krampus. Be good, kids.

347/365

12:12:12

 

Holiday cheer.

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