The Last Time

Remember the last time you ever expected to sleep in your parent's house....Oh you might go back with spouse and kids but it would never be the same as that last time as their "child." The room so familiar, the memories so deep. Or maybe you remember your last few days in high school. You saw the light coming through the windows in the hallway like you had never seen it before. It was a golden morning light flecked with dust particles stirred up by feet trudging off to class. And the smell of.....well, the smell of a school. Not like a hospital, or hotel.

There was so much to look forward to. College, friends, a spouse, job, opportunities, challenges......but you were seeing some things for the last time. You were going though a door for the last time. Oh, yes, you could go back home, you could go back to visit at the high school but you couldn't go back to this time and place in your life.

We go through these doors all of the time in our lives and most of the time we never think about moving into another place in our lives.

But sometimes........
Sometimes we are aware that we are leaving behind a time and a place that will never be again.
No matter how much we look forward to what is in front of us,
We know we are in this space and time for the last time.

And so we see not just with our eyes but with all our senses,
The darkness of the room
The faint whir of the ceiling fan
Soft breeze against the skin
Silky sheets with whiffs of soapy clean.
The window glowing with moonlight
Frogs singing in the garden
The dark outline of the Mercer family secretary desk against the wall
The pile of books on the table beside the bed
The texture of cool green slate floors against the feet.

There will be other bedrooms but not this one, not this house.
This is the last night we will sleep in our bedroom in our house on Lubbock Street.
Sleeping in this bedroom for the last time isn't just about selling this house and moving to Mexico. I'm looking forward to the future but at the same time I know that I'm going through another one of those significant doors.........
Moving to another place and time in my life.

Closing Down

Today we are moving my computer to another location so I'm not sure whether I'll be posting regularly or not this week. To my regular readers, hang in there.

This is going to be a full week. By Thursday, June 8th this house should be ready for it's new owners.

Dining Out

Houston has a very vibrant restaurant scene and over the last few months several more places near us have opened. Since we needed a break from all our labors in closing down this house we studied the newspaper restaurant reviews and chose Gravitas....on Taft Street just across Buffalo Bayou from us.

It is in a "reclaimed" building and next door to the old Fox Diner which is now Annabell's. The decor is rather New Yorkish elegant minimalism but with tables further apart. The minute we entered the dining room we were engulfed in noise. I'm beginning to think that part of the design of a restaurant has to be how can we raise the noise level to where you can barely hear the person across the table. The kitchen was open and on view in the restaurant so it was a part of the entertainment for the evening to see the different stations of food prep doing their thing.

The wait staff was very efficient, the wines were very good, and the food was trendy. I loved the gazpacho with a avocado cream.....very, very spicy. Ned said his spinach salad with apple smoked bacon was wonderful. I then had quail stuffed with a cornbread-black-eyed pea dressing and served with sauteed spinach and fresh corn cut from the cob. I was disappointed with the stuffing. The cornbread became a mush and the al dente blackeyed peas didn't add enough texture or flavor to save it. Ned had roasted lamb with roasted potatoes and green beans. He said it was good.

Overall, this was a very nice dinner and we loved watching the kitchen and the other diners but we both agreed that while we would not get the creative combinations or the quality of the ingredients in San Miguel, something was missing. And the missing piece is hard to put my finger on and certainly hard to explain. I can't begin to tell you how many times it is that when we go out to eat in San Miguel, I will lean back in my chair, close my eyes, take a deep breath and say, "I'm so happy." We might be in the little patio at Brassiere or on the portico at Don Quijote or beside the fireplace at le Invito or near the fire of the pastor at Los Faroles, at a window table of the San Francisco Cafe, I'm happy. I'm contented. I'm relaxed. Last night I was interested in what was happening but I didn't have this rush of contentment or find that I was taking deep, relaxing yogic breaths.

What are the differences? We didn't walk a 1/2 mile to get to the restaurant. The restaurant was noisier. The wait staff seemed to be on a time schedule so we started to feel the time too. The food was the main event, not the dining experience. The cost was almost twice as much as a nice dinner in San Miguel. I never had that "I'm so happy" feeling.

After dinner we stopped at the Corkscrew, a wine bar near the house. We are kind of once a week regulars when we are in Houston so we know some of the people there. Excellent wines by the glass. We savored Frida truffles with our wine. They have a kick of cayenne pepper on the roof of your mouth as you let them melt on the back of your tongue. A perfect dessert for the evening.

Last night was a needed break but it was also a push to get back to San Miguel where the food is less trendy but the eating experience more satisfying.

Crocheted Dress

A dress my Mother crocheted for me when I was just a little girl. Oh, I remember that I thought I was very beautiful in this little dress with a ribbon looped through the crochet at the waist. A pink slip and a pink ribbon. So feminine. This is truly a keepsake.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I think we are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel but I have to tell you getting ready to leave this house is a lot of hard physical work. We have the artwork wrapped in stretch wrap and ready to go the the storage unit. The Mexican dishes that we will keep are packed. My photography books are in boxes. I think we ended up with about 16 boxes of books. Boxes of prints are ready to go to storage. Some pieces of furniture are definitely being kept and stored...not many but a few and then there are some other pieces of furniture that we can't decide whether we are keeping or selling. But most stuff has been sorted into the categories: going to San Miguel or storage or sons or estate sale or dumpster.

The Estate Sale people have been here pricing stuff. They seem to have a good handle on the prices but I couldn't believe it when I pulled out a decanter and four small cordial glasses. I've had it forever but the lemony color didn't quite go with my current color scheme so it was stuck back in a cabinet. As soon as they saw it they said, "Oh, vasoline glass....and that color is very in." I didn't even know what vasoline glass was. I just bought the set 35 years ago because I liked it. But apparently it and a small signed sculpture that I have are now collectables.

At this point it is very messy in this house. Every surface seems covered with something. It is hard to find a place to sit down to eat. I miss the artwork on the walls, the pillows on the couch. In a way I wish I could have just enjoyed the house as it was until we walked out the door but then it might have been hard to leave. Trust me, by the time we are out of here in another couple of weeks, I will definitely be ready to move on.

Time for Vegetables

Since we have been back in Houston, we have been going through stuff in the house, throwing things away and packing what we want to store. By the late afternoon, the thought of cooking just wasn't a very appealing thought. We have now been through all the nearby take out places and we have been out to eat.

But I'm hungry. Hungry for vegetables. So today while we were out checking out a couple of storage places, we stopped at the Farmer's Market which isn't too far from the Houston house. The market is spread out and there are open air pavilions where vendors set up little stands and lay out their produce so precisely that it makes me so homesick for Mexico. In the back of the market are trucks that have just arrived from the Texas valley or Hempstead loaded with whatever is seasonal, like watermelons and they sell in bulk or you can buy just one. There is also a "store" that isn't air-conditioned just huge ventilation fans. Can you believe that such a place still exists in hot, humid Houston?

I love people watching in the markets because you don't see much of the yuppie crowd at Farmer's Market. The Yuppies usually go to specialty organic markets and pay more for squash and tomatoes. You are more likely to see an older black woman buying a big mess of collard greens, black-eyed peas, okra, tomatoes, cucumbers, ears of corn. Oh my, I'd love to go home with her. I know that she knows how to cook it the good old way with ham hocks and slather butter on the corn. Or you might see an oriental woman buying some vegetables that I'm not sure how they should be prepared so I'd like to go home with her too. The people in the farmer's market are real, down home cooks from whatever part of the world they came from.

I had a hard time restraining myself. I could have bought a basket full of vegetables. Tonight we are having fresh cream peas, okra with tomatoes and a salad along with thin sliced sauteed porkchops. And tomorrow it will be fresh corn on the cob and spring green beans with grilled chicken breasts.

Yum!
Sounds good to me.

Sunday in the Old Sixth Ward

After doing nothing but packing for two weeks, I had to take a break on Sunday morning. I took my new lens for a walk around the neighborhood.
The new lens is the Canon 24-105 f/4 L IS lens. I think I will really like the IS (Image Stabilization) feature of the lens and I like the 24-105 range but it is one big heavy lens....at least for me. Still if you are going to be walking around and want to just have a lens on the camera that will get you through most any situation, this should do it for me.
I bought this lens and another one, the 70-200 f/4 L lens with some of the money I received from the sale of my darkroom equipment. There is one more lens that I'm lusting after but I wanted to give the 24-105 lens a try before I went for the 24 or 35 f/1.4 lens. Although the image stabilization feature will be helpful, I'm not sure it will take care of some of my low light shooting.

Possessed

Yes, I'm possessed. I've just realized that my possessions own me. They demand that I polish them, wash them, store them, display them, use them and even though I got rid of a lot of stuff seven years ago, I'm still a slave to the demands of the remaining possessions.

When you own something you feel responsible for it. Possessions create a lot of work and expense. You not only spend money buying them, but then you have to spend money on a place to put them. Bookcases, shelving, furniture. Well things are changing around here. Possessions are being reduced.

In our house in San Miguel de Allende which is small and has limited storage, I have had some great dinner parties with wonderful conversation, 40 people for cocktails, many home cooked dinners. We've served red wine, white wine and champagne. All in common everyday wine glasses. We always have clean sheets and towels. We have clothes to put on our backs every morning. I have equipment to do my work. People say we have a beautiful home.

So, do I really need pilsner beer mugs? Special glasses for port or red wine or white wine. Water glasses, margarita glasses. Do I need a set of 12 in a formal china ringed with silver? Christmas dishes? Mexican pottery? Or Waterford napkins rings? Or 3 sets of charger plates....copper, gold and pewter? Dessert plates? salad plates? Silver coffee service? Crystal candlesticks....4 sets? And the list goes on and on.

Possessions have accumulated..........and accumulated.

I'm not sure who is the owner. Me or the possessions?

But the times they are a'changing. We are "de-possessing." The Estate Sale is June 2 and 3.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

We are still going through things, throwing out things and packing stuff for storage. What really slows me down are going through boxes of photographs and mementos.

Things like Baby Books. The first child dutifully has achievements recorded for about a year, the second child has some things recorded but the third child.........well his name and birth weight are in his book.

Photographs and more photographs. Studio photographs, vacation snapshots, Polaroid shots from the 60's...fading fast, photographs sitting on Santa's knee, Christmas snapshots, school photos, and it goes on and on and on. Old negatives still in their paper sleeves from the drugstore. These are all begging to be scanned and saved. How much time would it take to sort through and choose the best, the most representative of this huge pile of our family life, and scan them, clean up the files and save them? It could be a project for the rest of my life.

When I look at these old photographs, it isn't just looking at the people but it is seeing the house when that beige scratchy couch was there or the flowered draperies or the chrome table in the kitchen. It is a flood of family history. When they were in the box stored away, all of these experiences were out of sight and out of mind.

Mother's Day Flowers

Mother's Day flowers from Gary.

Sad and Glad

"Your garden is magical." That is what Lauren said when she came over last week. It was the first time she had been to our house. I wanted to weep. I'm leaving this garden that we worked so hard on. When we moved in there was one tree on the lot. A strangely-shaped hackberry tree. Not a premier tree by any means. I couldn't bring myself to cut it down. But in six years the lot is in shade. River Birch along one side, a 30 foot Mexican Sycamore, three crepe myrtle (that haven't been mutilated by chopping off their limbs every year), a vitek, and a weeping yupon. All of them were young trees when we planted them. Now the trees and the walks add structure to the gardens. Since we have been away a lot the garden has naturalized and the hardy plants that are happy have reseeded themselves spilling over their allotted spaces. Lauren is right, it is a magical garden. I will miss this garden. We put this garden together and if we weren't as old as we are I would say that if we come back to Houston I could do it again but at our age I'm not sure we could start from the dirt up again.....at least not without a lot of help.
So that is the sad part. The glad part surprises me.

My darkroom equipment is sold or given away and I'm glad.

It is strange. I can't believe I feel that way about my darkroom but after I printed my last couple of shows digitally, deep in my heart I knew that I wasn't going to go back into the darkroom even if seeing the print come up in a tray is always a moment of wonder or holding a finely crafted silver print in your hands makes you say, "WOW." I know that I would never take all the equipment to Mexico.....when it left here it filled the bed of a pickup.

For a couple of years I have thought that I should let the equipment go. I had thought about closing down the darkroom, taking out the sink and putting in a digital workstation in it's place. But as long as we had the house I know I would just let it sit. Each piece of equipment had been so carefully selected to meet my needs that I couldn't bring myself to make the move. The move to Mexico forced my hand. Surprise! Letting it go is very freeing. It opens new doors for me and takes away a nagging guilt about not using the darkroom.

I feel very good about where the equipment has moved. Most of it went to Bennie, a friend and fellow artist and photographer who lives here in my neighborhood. She has been working mostly digitally and wants to move back to the darkroom. She wants to teach her two beautiful daughters photography. I hope that the girls find our fascination with photography. I think that their lives will be enriched by learning to see the world through a camera lens. I feel sorry for those who don't see images everywhere, who don't see light and space, who aren't moved by images and can't speak with power and understanding through images. I wish those things for Bennie's daughters. I'll be thrilled if my equipment can play some small part in passing on the wonder of photography to another generation of artist.

I feel like this transfer of the darkroom and some other equipment was meant to be. While talking to Bennie, she told me about some of the projects that have been rumbling around in her mind so I know that the new equipment will open some new places for her to explore. And having it gone also opens doors for me too.

In a way it feels like a sacrilege to write this because I can't believe I'm glad to not have a darkroom. But I am, I'm glad to be moving on.

Dad's Family

More stuff from my files. I found a listing of my Dad's family in my mother's handwriting. I think the list was made before 1945 the year my grandmother died. You wonder what thoughts and reasons went into the naming of these 11 babies.

Just looking at the list brought a flood of images. Some I'm sure were of the family and where they lived but others I'm not so sure about....it is almost like they were the collection of all the images I've seen from the 1930's, FSA images and even books I've read that created environment and images through the words.

We forget how difficult life was for our families....and not that many years ago. So many babies did not survive the first year of life. My Dad at 14 years old went to work after his father died in 1930 to help support the family.

And yes, if you are looking through the dates, my Grandmother had 3 sets of twins.

His Father
Cassie Bianky Williams: Born April 14, 1884 - Died November 18, 1930

His Mother
Cara Emma Sanders Williams: Born April 3, 1886 - Died November 27, 1945

My Dad
Alfred Willie Williams: Born March 31, 1906 - Died July 4, 1984

His Brothers and Sisters
Viola Gladys Williams: Born September 7, 1904 - Died September 21, 1906

Helen Williams: Born May 10, 1912 - Died May 10, 1912

Clyde Williams: Born May 16, 1913 - Died May 16, 1913
Lillian Ida Williams Griffith: Born May 16, 1913 - Date unknown but she lived to maturity

Leonard Cassie Williams: Born November 8, 1914 - Date unknown but lived to maturity

Leona Williams: Born June 22, 1920 - Died November 18, 1920
Leon Williams: Born June 22, 1920 - Date unknown but lived to maturity

Thelma Williams Cantrell: Born September 12, 1921 - Date unknown but lived to maturity
Delma Williams Carpenter: Born September 12, 1921 - Date unknown but lived to maturity

Velma Williams Harper - Born Jan 16, 1924 - Date unknown but lived to maturity

Melancholy

I'm taking the liberty of paraphrasing a quote from the French Writer, Anatole France:

All changes, ever the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind is part of ourselves; we must let go of something before we can move on to something else.

While going through and discarding stuff in the files about building this house, I felt this melancholy. Working with our architect was such a creative experience. Maybe because the outside skin of the house is metal (galvalume) I feel like we have created more than just a house, we have created a sculpture that changes as you move aound it, as the light changes. I love the shape and angles, the way the grid over the patio creates moving shadows across the patio and the sides of the house. The design makes the gardens an important element around the house and the gardens become an extension of the inside of the house.

I love this house. So a few waves of melancholy have washed over me. But by letting go and leaving this part of me behind, I'm opening the door to living full time in another culture and I am definitely opening the door to an equally wonderful experience of building another house at some point in the future.

Hey, Need An Enlarger?

The year 1999 was only 7 years ago but the world of photography has changed so much. I'm amazed as I sort through my stuff and realize how quickly this has happened.

I had longed for a better enlarger. Poured over their brochures, talked to people who had them, studied the specs. So when I bought a new wonderful enlarger, built like a tank, just before we moved into this house, I was so pleased. It was going to last forever. It is one fine piece of equipment. Adjustments are smooth and precise. The light source is uniform. The negative holders are solid and easy to use. Just one problem. I haven't used it in about two years. Oh, I've made and printed photographs but even when I've shot film, I haven't used the darkroom. I've gone digital. I scan and print on fine art paper with an inkjet printer.

I've chastised myself about not using this wonderful darkroom that was built in our house. I have this amazingly long sink. I have counter space. Storage space. I have fine equipment. After working for 18 years in a 5x7 closet, this is the darkroom of my dreams. But now that we are packing up and moving out of this house, out of this darkroom, I have to face the fact that I'll probably not ever have my own darkroom again.

I'm looking for good homes for my equipment. Now this is one thing about this move that makes me a little sad.

My Books

You know how some people buy a souvenir when they go somewhere? I do too but typically my souvenirs are photography books. Part of our travel is stopping at any place that might have a gallery or museum showing photography. Often I can buy a book from the show or browse through their selection of photography books.

Today Raul who writes the blog Heading East, wrote about Panorama photographs. I immediately went to look for my book on Eugene O. Goldbeck about his Panoramic Photographs. Wow....I see that Amazon has two of the books for $225. When I bought mine, for much less, I knew it would become a collector's item because it was beautifully done with bi-fold and tri-fold panoramas and it was in a beautifully bound linen slipcover. I heard the the University of Texas Press said they would never publish anymore of the books because they were so difficult to produce.

I'm planning to store my books and not take them to Mexico. But when Raul's blog entry today sent me to my book shelves, I realized how much I love having all my photography books close by. I have some of my books in Mexico already but I may have to reconsider my decision to store all of them.

Brain Blip

When I go through my black and white negatives in their print file pages, it is like I am stepping back through the experience....I photographed the door of the church, then the boys came and I photographed them, then I went in and .........

But today I had the strangest experience. I'm going through stuff in my workroom. I found a box of slides that I don't remember taking. Oh, I recognize where they are from but for the life of me I don't remember taking slides in the cemeteries in the Yucatan. But the color is wonderful. I can't scan any now but I will when I'm back in San Miguel.

Why don't I remember taking slides in the cemeteries? Why aren't they labeled? Have I even looked at them since 1992? Why did I take slides when at the time I was shooting all black and white? Whoa.....that part of the old hard drive got deleted and something else written over it. Thank God I at least recognize all the places or I'd really have to start worrying.

Sorting

Today Ned and I went through the house deciding what we will keep and what will go in the Estate Sale. Although we are not keeping a lot of furniture, I'm afraid we are keeping too much. Add to that boxes of books, dishes and special pieces of folk art, paintings, the photography collection, negatives and prints........Wow. We are going to have a lot to pack and store.

As we went through the house deciding what to keep, we tried to use as a criteria....what is unique? What will make another house look like us. But it is very hard not to remember when something was bought and sometimes how precious it was because of the time or how hard it was to pay for it. It is hard to stay focused on "sorting" because you tend to stop and look.....look at old High School and College Annuals or at individual Christmas decorations....and remember and talk, "Do you remember when?"

There was a company in Houston called The Christmas Furniture Company. They made pine furniture from the most beautiful hard pine I have ever seen. Those old pine forests are gone. The pieces are solid wood, the tops are thick slabs of pine but the pine isn't a dark blackish pine that was typical of the time it was bought. Instead it is a beautiful warm wood color. It is early American style but simple almost like the Shaker style. I have two end/table-chests and a 48-inch round pedestal table. It is time to let them go. The table is the hardest to let go. My sons grew up eating at that table.

Another thing that it is hard to decide about....lamps. I have two original Stiffel lamps and two painted porcelain lamps by Frederick Cooper. The Estate Sale person I interviewed today told me that I can't get very much for them but if I were to try to replace them they would be even more expensive than I paid for them. I guess the style today are the black stick contemporary type lamps.

My Mom died and then several years later my Dad. My sister and I were getting no where at cleaning out their house. We would open drawers or closets and just get lost in what was there. Finally we had a friend who came in and started finding new homes for stuff. She didn't have the memories or the grief that we had at that time. She would say, "The women's shelter can use this." Or "I think the Catholic resale shop can sell this." So in short order it was done. Thank God for her. We could have been weeks.

Our time is limited. We are going to have to stay unemotional and stay focused and plow through.

Yesterday we went and bought some boxes, bubble wrap, shrink wrap and tape....we have started but there is so much to do, I'm kind of overwhelmed. I'm not sure where to start.

Houston

We left San Miguel about 9:30 on Wednesday, spent the night in Laredo and drove on in to Houston this afternoon. This morning before we arrived, the buyers had their inspections of our house. All went very well. We don't need to do anything to the house so we are headed for the closing.

So now it is nose to the grindstone to get organized, sell the "stuff," pack up what we are going to keep and get out. It is going to be a lot of hard work but we feel this is the right thing.

I'll do my best to keep you posted on this transition.

Now We Hope for Rain

A special light
Soft, creeping into every shadow
A strange light
Sometimes after a storm
Tonight before
The wind from the North
Blue skies overhead
Black rolling clouds behind us
The wind, fresh
Almost cold
We walk home
Feeling the damp energy in the air
In minutes it is dusk
The special light is gone
Now we hope for rain

Will I Grow Tired Of................

We have traveled in Mexico for over 20 years. We have lived here most of the time for 4 years. I am still in love with San Miguel. But I sometimes wonder if I will grow tired of:

Fireworks often and at any time of the day or night.
Lovers on our front steps.
Roosters crowing and not just to welcome the dawn.
Vendors in trucks announcing their wares with horns, blasting music and shouts.
Open windows.
Church bells.
Going up.....stairs and hills (doesn't seem like you ever go down).
Processions, festivals and parades.
Not understanding the culture most of the time.
Buying groceries everyday.
Food vendors on every street.
Taco and tamale stands that appear at the houses on our street.
Dinner parties and good conversation.
Kids playing under the open windows.
Cold weather without Central Heat.
Hot weather without Air Conditioning.
Always seeing friends when you walk into town.
Walking everywhere.
Color everywhere...Vermilion to gold stucco against deep blue skies.
Small town gossip and rumor.

And my list goes on and on.

Anything you want to add?

So far all of these things are positive. They connect me to this place. They enrich my spirit and add flavor to my life.

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