ever since i came home to my mother being carted off in an ambulance that one night, i've been preparing for the sudden and tragic demise of the people close to me. a car crash, cancer, flash flood, suicide - all sorts of improbable scenarios cycle through my head when certain people don't call when they say they will.
this weekend ruben went out to the desert to shoot a film, and we thought nothing of it. the night before he went i had a dream about my parents going out to the desert. they showed me pictures of cheetahs that lived 20 feet away from where they were going to be staying. i begged them to not go, i could see their limbs being torn apart by a stealth large cat attack, but they went anyway. i looked at the map, and tried to squeeze all my feelings into one small suitcase which struggled to close.
the day ruben was supposed to come home, he didn't answer any of the messages i sent him. no doubt he was driving back, or entertaining his tired crew, or his phone battery had run out. but logic gave way to possibility, and i went to bed in an empty apartment, images of broken cars and dehydrated bodies flashing through my head.
i woke up with a start at 2am. he was still not home. i moved over to his side of the bed, so that if he finally came home, he would have to wake me to move over. falling asleep again was like taking a terrible gamble. i wanted nothing more than to escape my thoughts through sleep, but they would only disappear upon waking.
he came home half an hour later.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
the place within our hearts
lone pine, california was one of those small towns with one main street and visible burros 2 hours away from death valley national park. we stayed there the night before we entered the desert, and caught breakfast on our way out.
i stepped in the diner, and it became painfully acute how out of place i looked. there i was, a triple threat ethnic amalgam of chinese heritage, indian tunic, and swedish footwear, tattoos and piercings on full display, an oh-so-artistic camera bag slung over my shoulder. fuck. i'm such a city slicker asshole. fuck. how did this happen to me when i grew up among the weeds of backwoods texas, wandering through hayfields that stretched for distances?
later, after we finished in the park, we stopped in adjoining nevada and stopped at a saloon for dinner. the locals neglected to mention that this was a true saloon, with upwards of two mustachioed cowboys decked out in ten gallon hats, studded vests, and mother-of-pearl revolver handles peeking out of their belt holster. it was the first time i had seen someone carry a gun. they swaggered in, harassed some swedish tourists (who were getting a fine introduction to america), drew guns on each other, and then retreated to the bar behind the restaurant. we heard loud popping sounds midway through our meal. fireworks, tonight? no, just some cowboys shooting at each other behind the saloon, the waitress reassured us, they do this often.
we paid our bill and left. a man with an emblemed jacket was revving up his motorcycle next to our car. we made it home in 6 hours. i was happy to see the city.
i stepped in the diner, and it became painfully acute how out of place i looked. there i was, a triple threat ethnic amalgam of chinese heritage, indian tunic, and swedish footwear, tattoos and piercings on full display, an oh-so-artistic camera bag slung over my shoulder. fuck. i'm such a city slicker asshole. fuck. how did this happen to me when i grew up among the weeds of backwoods texas, wandering through hayfields that stretched for distances?
later, after we finished in the park, we stopped in adjoining nevada and stopped at a saloon for dinner. the locals neglected to mention that this was a true saloon, with upwards of two mustachioed cowboys decked out in ten gallon hats, studded vests, and mother-of-pearl revolver handles peeking out of their belt holster. it was the first time i had seen someone carry a gun. they swaggered in, harassed some swedish tourists (who were getting a fine introduction to america), drew guns on each other, and then retreated to the bar behind the restaurant. we heard loud popping sounds midway through our meal. fireworks, tonight? no, just some cowboys shooting at each other behind the saloon, the waitress reassured us, they do this often.
we paid our bill and left. a man with an emblemed jacket was revving up his motorcycle next to our car. we made it home in 6 hours. i was happy to see the city.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
parents
i called them for our weekly update, and instead of moping about at home now that the kids have flown the nest, they were out fishing. "call you back," they said, as i let out an incredulous, "but it's 8pm your time!".
the next day they stayed home for my call. they had caught 30 fish the night before, they said, but at the last minute, the knot my father had tied in the fishing net snapped, and their day's catch disappeared into the black lake bottom. they came home at midnight with three small fish that their fellow fishermen gave them out of sympathy. i could hear my mom's small cries of dismay in my head, the quiet bit of heartbreak that was quickly buried in the 25 year bond of marriage, like a shard of glass in a large cotton ball.
the next day i used their credit card to buy some books online. my bank account was suffering, i reasoned, and they owed me an upcoming birthday gift. i emailed them to warn of the credit card charge, and received the following in response:
"We are very happy that you can find a gift for you. We went fishing last night, your mom was very lucky, she caught 6 large bass (14 inches and 15 inches) and crappie, and I caught one large crappie, We also caught a lot of small fishes. We had a lot of funs."
the next day they stayed home for my call. they had caught 30 fish the night before, they said, but at the last minute, the knot my father had tied in the fishing net snapped, and their day's catch disappeared into the black lake bottom. they came home at midnight with three small fish that their fellow fishermen gave them out of sympathy. i could hear my mom's small cries of dismay in my head, the quiet bit of heartbreak that was quickly buried in the 25 year bond of marriage, like a shard of glass in a large cotton ball.
the next day i used their credit card to buy some books online. my bank account was suffering, i reasoned, and they owed me an upcoming birthday gift. i emailed them to warn of the credit card charge, and received the following in response:
"We are very happy that you can find a gift for you. We went fishing last night, your mom was very lucky, she caught 6 large bass (14 inches and 15 inches) and crappie, and I caught one large crappie, We also caught a lot of small fishes. We had a lot of funs."
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
images associated with my bloody valentine's 'sometimes'
an endless car ride, lost in translation, snowdrifts, cold clear nights, the first heartbreak
even though my practice has drifted to thinking about the social and the just, i still really enjoy a good aesthetic experience.
even though my practice has drifted to thinking about the social and the just, i still really enjoy a good aesthetic experience.
songs about heaven
temptation - new order (heaven / i can't wait / i hope)
all we want, baby, is everything - the handsome furs (heaven / is a place built out of stone)
heaven is - orchestral manoeuvres in the dark (heaven is making love / and then running away)
heaven is a place on earth - belinda carlisle
all we want, baby, is everything - the handsome furs (heaven / is a place built out of stone)
heaven is - orchestral manoeuvres in the dark (heaven is making love / and then running away)
heaven is a place on earth - belinda carlisle
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About Me
- carola rola
- I unofficially take photographs and charm people for a living. Officially, I received a B.F.A. from Cornell University, and am now on the West Coast making websites, planting gardens, and damning the man. Be my friend at carol[dot]why[dot]zou[at]gmail[dot]com.