Archive for the 'Photo diary' Category

Photo diary: January 2017 (vacation in Vieques)

February 20, 2017

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After a break of four years, we returned to the restful paradise of Vieques for a week’s vacation, thanks to our hosts Andy and Michael. There were cocktails at Hector’s by the Sea (with Louis and Brent), a sunset sailboat ride (with Brad), shopping at the farmer’s market (to lay eyes on the island tubers we were eating at restaurants, like yautia), coffee at a new cafe in town named after its handsome owner Inigo…but mostly a whole lot of lying by the pool reading.

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Photo diary: January 2017 (Women’s March in DC)

February 13, 2017

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As soon as I heard about it, I knew I had to go to Washington for the Women’s March the day after the inauguration. It turned out to be a monumental historic gathering, and I love having the pictures to document the sweetness, the humor, the defiance, and the collective power of the event. I was supposed to “march” with Gays Against Guns, participating as one of the Human Beings, representing women who were victims of gun violence (thus the all-white outfit, including graduation gown). But the GAG contingent took the bus down from NYC early that morning, I was already in DC, and by the time we got to the site the crowds were so huge there was no way to get to the designated meeting spot. So I stuck with my friends Joe and Clint. A neighbor of theirs in the Petworth neighborhood gifted us with freshly knitted pussyhats, so we rocked those all day.

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As a sheer expression of solidarity, The Women’s March was exhilarating. The rally, though, was almost impossible to enjoy, given the unprecedented size of the event. Like much else about the march, the logistics were planned as if no one else would be there. The lineup of speakers was amazing. Maybe 1000 people actually got to see/hear them. The rest of us spent hours stuck on the metro trying to get there, then an hour shuffling through the streets trying to find a place to stand, then a couple of hours standing in place craning our necks to glimpse a Jumbotron, hearing only scraps of speeches wafting from scattered loudspeakers.

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I caught a glimpse of Scarlett Johanssen and Alicia Keys, heard Angelique Kidjo sing a song, no one else I recognized. Mostly we entertained each other with our signs and chants. “We won’t go away! Welcome to your first day!” “He’s orange! He’s gross! He lost the popular vote!” “Build a fence around Mike Pence!”

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As the speeches dragged on and on and on, the 300K toward the back started chanting “March! March!” Easier said than done in such a huge crowd. I had no idea Madonna was around. I was bummed not to hear Gloria Steinem or Angela Davis.

BUT…it was a day of high spirits, no violence, and great love. Given the crowds, I was amazed at how many friends I did bump into. Joe, who’s lived in DC for 32 years and knows everybody, was jealous, until we finally ran into someone he knew — the DC chief of police, Peter Newsham, who told us he was thrilled to receive a hug from Cher. Joe and Clint and I parked on a bench between the Washington Monument and the White House to cool our jets and became a popular photo op (Old Fags in Pussyhats).

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I was really glad I went. It was exciting to be part of history. And…the next day I felt quite depressed, because the grotesque joke of this regime goes on.

 

Photo diary: January 2017 (the anti-inaugural)

February 10, 2017

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You wouldn’t know it from watching the Senate Republicans’ disgraceful rubber-stamping of the appointments of one compromised and/or unqualified candidate after another to powerful cabinet positions, but the vast majority of the American people expressed their opposition to this president’s agemda on Election Day by voting for another candidate or not voting at all. I am reminded of that and heartened when I look at the pictures I took in Washington on January 20 and 21, where the streets were full of cheerful, energized resistance. Similar scenes took place that day and many days since then all over the world.

The night before the inauguration, theaters all over the country launched the Ghostlight Project, whose mission statement reads: WE WILL GATHER OUTSIDE OF THEATERS TO CREATE A “LIGHT” FOR DARK TIMES AHEAD, AND TO MAKE, OR RENEW, A PLEDGE TO STAND FOR AND PROTECT THE VALUES OF INCLUSION, PARTICIPATION, AND COMPASSION FOR EVERYONE REGARDLESS OF RACE, CLASS, RELIGION, COUNTRY OF ORIGIN, IMMIGRATION STATUS, (DIS)ABILITY, AGE, GENDER IDENTITY, OR SEXUAL ORIENTATION. I showed up for the launch at the Arena Stage, which was also hosting a community farewell to the Obamas that night.

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The next day my friend Joe Martin, who worked closely with Barney Frank for many years, and I made the rounds of the anti-inaugural events. Festive crowds gathered at noon at Union Station, people of all ages and colors, with signs, banners, puppets, and marching bands.

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Later in the afternoon the scene shifted to McPherson Square, where there was a rally with numerous speakers and musical performances, but the action was mostly hanging out in the streets communing with others as a gray pall hung over the city. A contingent of anarchists broke some windows and torched a limousine, which the TV news highlighted to suggest dangerous rioting in the streets, but the gathering was pretty low-key. The police presence was enormous, and I got the distinct feeling they were pretty much on our side. The people in the red baseball caps trickling out of the official inauguration wore expressions that looked somewhere between smug and sheepish.

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At the end of the day, Joe’s husband Clint met us at Busboys and Poets, a hip and groovy cafe/coffeehouse near the Catholic University campus, for dinner, where they were passing out free copies of Shepard Fairey’s beautiful “We the People” poster (you can also download it for free here) and where we spied this cute young couple rocking their pussyhats.

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Photo diary: January 2017, Colorado (part 2)

February 7, 2017

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In addition to visiting my sisters, we also hung out with Andy’s Aunt Jeanne and her partner Russ, who makes his own wine. And I had a long-anticipated reunion with my dear old friend Tami Tanoue, whom I hadn’t seen in 50 years. We went to fourth, fifth, and half of sixth grade together at Tachikawa Air Force Base in Japan, and thanks to the wonders of Facebook we re-connected a few years ago. She lives in Denver with her husband Roger, a comic-book writer, five dogs, and two cats.

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We also dipped our toes into the world of legal cannabis, where Colorado has led the way. We had a look at five different shops selling the whole array of cannabis products in Denver, Aurora, and Boulder. One cool thing about legal cannabis is that products are labeled with information about the potency, suggested dosing, and how long it takes to kick in. The staff at any dispensary are also extremely well-informed and happy to answer questions. How would you know otherwise? O brave new world!

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For all the time I’ve spent in Denver, I’ve never visited the art museum, so we took a couple of hours one afternoon to repair that oversight. Aside from the thoughtfully curated multiple exhibitions (we had a look at “Audacious,” a show of contemporary political art, as well as the permanent collection of Western and American Indian art and masks and fabric from Oceania) and the unusual architecture, the Denver Art Museum has more ardent interactivity than I’ve ever seen before. Rooms for parents and children to sit and make things. A system encouraging viewers of challenging contemporary art to identify and express the feelings the artwork evokes. Wall plaques that go above and beyond the call of duty. Very well attended on a Tuesday afternoon. And a cafe serving delicious food.

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Photo diary: January 2017, Colorado (part 1 — la famiglia)

February 6, 2017

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My middle sister, Barbara, turned 60 on New Year’s Day, so we flew to Colorado to celebrate with her and to meet the newest members of the family: my niece Jeri’s daughter Kyla, who was born the day after her brother Kody turned 21, and my youngest sister Joanne’s fiancé Richard, who is such a cannabis devotee that they’re planning to get married at Bongathon this summer. The birthday celebration was hosted by Barbara’s younger daughter Carlee and her fiance Michael, who has a super-smart and super-cute 9-year-old son named Josh, and also attended by Jeri and Carlee’s brother Adam, his girlfriend Jamie, and his son Brent, as well as my older sister Marianne, who flew in from Maine. Richard and Michael watched the football game while some of us took the dogs (Molly and Mia) for a walk. The next day there was a family photo shoot at a studio in the nearby mall operated by a friendly pair of African-American guys, and then I packed my sisters into the car for a drive up to Boulder where we had late-afternoon tea at the Dunshanbe Teahouse, which was designed and created by over 40 artisans in Tajikistan who then took it apart, crated it up, shipped it, and then flew to Boulder to reassemble it in 1990.

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