Fruit!

I was stricken with a wretched cold/flu thing for most of October, so was out in the world as little as possible, & when I was out there, believe me, having my picture taken by a stranger was the last thing on my mind.

We shall see if this project revives now that I am well & out & about. I suspect that it will just trickle along with occasional posts. For one thing, I don’t see how I could ever top the perfect storm of the Chinatown shoot. Having attained such heights beyond my wildest dreams, I am pretty content to do some laurel-resting. But who knows?

Anyway… today I felt was my last possible chance to get sweetpeas in the ground, so off I dashed to the market to nab seedlings, only to be stopped in my tracks by the heaps of luscious grapes. My photographer held a tiny girl easily in one arm, his other hand free. I asked him to take a picture of me “in front of the fruit.”

Instead of “say cheese” he said, “say fruit!”

“Fruit!” I sang out, & he snapped the picture.

As I left, he was trying to teach his daughter to say “fruit.” Fruit! FRUIT!!

Clement & 6th

I was at Green Apple & hoped to get my picture taken in front, but there were no photographers available when I wanted them. So I crossed the street & somehow intuited that my photographer was simply a brisk walker, as opposed to someone in a hurry. I was right; she took her time & carefully composed two shots for me.

Summer Solstice farmers market

Today’s photographer at first seemed not so thrilled to be asked, but he warmed to the task. Maybe he was having a hunger fit or something; I found him in line for Flacos. A few moments later as I was getting in my car I saw him again, food in hand, & he gave me a much more cheerful smile.

After that, I went & had a spectacular waterfight with two of my old college pals & their daughters. We managed to wash two cars in the process & an excellent time was had by all. Perfect way to celebrate a scorching solstice!

Temescal farmers market

One of my zucchini seedlings met a bad end. No crying over spilled milk; I ran over to the Temescal Farmers Market to fetch a replacement from Kassenhoff. Things were a bit off-kilter there as the whole market had been moved across the creek to a different section of the DMV parking lot, & I wandered around looking for the Kassenhoff booth until I realized they simply weren’t there today. Maybe they were scared off by the back-to-winter, rain & hail weather forecast?

I did get the first peaches of the season though! & I liked having the market under the trees for a change.

My photographer snapped away with casual abandon, saying, oh, one more for good measure—it’s digital, right?

Zachary’s

There is always someone waiting outside Zachary’s, & for good reason. I didn’t happen to eat there today, though… just passing by while running errands.

Tulips & ranunculus

The flower stand at the farmers market was so totally seductive that I pretty much lost my mind & ended up with a whole armful of tulips. So here I am with my little zucchini seedling & flowers! flowers! flowers!

“Very sunny,” commented my photographer.

Film festival

The film festival this year has been serving an unexpected purpose for me. What a blessed relief to be distracted from Japan’s horrific situation for a solid couple of hours at a time, to be immersed in such a variety of worlds that have one key thing in common: none of this had happened yet—the earthquakes (450 aftershocks at last count), the tsunami, the nuclear nightmare.

Tonight I went out in the pouring spring rain to Pacific Film Archive, thinking it would be the perfect place for a shoot. I was early enough so that after my picture was taken, I had a good ten minutes to wait for the film. Usually this would prompt avid people-watching, but instead I found myself sinking into the seat, feeling how frayed my nerves were, how emotionally exhausted. I stared absently at the screen where slides rotated, silently announcing film & museum events. Five days of worry, five days of trying to wrap my brain around something so overwhelming, five days during which all my prayers felt so inadequate… I felt it all catch up to me at once.

Then the film rolled & took me off to Shanghai.

Tuesday market

The Tuesday farmer’s market is actually a pretty tough place to do this project. It’s not like weekend markets where a lot of people are just hanging out. During the week, everyone is on a mission, intent on the food. Hands are full of produce carried in a thousand awkward ways, fingers are sticky with fruit juice from all the samples, there is much jockeying for position to weigh & pay. People are not really available for this sort of thing. Last time I fudged one of my rules & asked an idle massage therapist.

I didn’t want to do that this time. I was almost out of the place & about to give up (as I have in weeks past) when here came a man carrying nothing at all, & if he wasn’t exactly strolling, he wasn’t beelining either.

He asked, “Do you want the fruit & everything?”

Of course I want the fruit!

On BART again

After all the mulling in the last couple posts, I did fall into the overthinking pit when choosing today’s photographer. I cased out the men of color around me: two of them were completely wrapped up in conversation (not with each other, in case you were wondering) & the third was in a wheelchair. I wondered about the guy in the wheelchair. I couldn’t guess by looking whether his manual abilities included picture-taking; his hands were very small & soft-looking, & his wheelchair was the kind you steer with a little joystick-type toggle. I know I wouldn’t have wanted to take anybody’s picture for them when my hands were at their worst (I had heinous repetitive stress issues a few years ago). In the end I just decided to leave him alone.

Question: do able-bodied people ever ask obviously disabled people to take their pictures for them?

My photographer ended up being a cleancut white guy standing near me, who was completely unengaged in any kind of distracting activity, unlike the myriad readers, sleepers, & avid conversationalists sitting all around. He wore a casual jacket & backpack over his very pressed shirt & tie.

When I asked him to take the picture he almost seemed embarrassed; I couldn’t understand why until I saw that he had very shaky hands. He said something sort of apologetic about how it was hard to take the picture with shaking hands, or on a moving train, or maybe he implied both.

I said it was okay & he tried a second one. I was noticing what a nervous type he was, maybe really shy or something, & felt a little sorry for him. Talking to strangers, not for him, nope. Quite a contrast between his calm, self-possessed posture before I approached him, & the palpable nervousness that rose so quickly to the surface.