This picture is currently my favorite image from the road trip I took a few weeks ago. I went to Tennessee to photograph a giant, fake iceberg, but this trio of trees hitching a ride in a van is strangely beautiful in a way kitsch can rarely be.

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Lantern

This lantern reminds me of my girlhood bedroom which was decorated with a green rice paper parasol and other artifacts from foreign cultures. I thought it was so wonderfully bohemian and chic and really it was - you have to remember the time frame - deep in the heart of the preppie 80's. Other than a brief longing for a Ralph Lauren Polo shirt dress, I never cared for the preppie style on women. Classic khakis and an oxford shirt on man, that I like - it's timeless without being silly like golf pants and belts decorated with little Nantucket whales.

Sartorially I was adrift, since punk looked absolutely ridiculous on me. I did have a pair of shinny black pants that approximated leather. My mother cringed whenever she saw them. My school forbade jeans and "cheap emblazoned t-shirts," so Levis and a funky T, my uniform of choice for the non-school hours, was out of the question.

Even now I love paper lanterns. Until last Christmas, I had several of them hanging on the pots and pans rack above our breakfast table island. I don't really cook, so why pretend with expensive, unused cookware? The lanterns made way for ornaments and never returned. Now I'm planning to hang fake, mini Christmas trees upside down from the rack with paper balls and sheets of felt snow. Hold me to it or it might be years before that scene is built, even though I have all the ingredients now.

Veteran's Day

Magic House

I just returned home from four amazing days of wandering through Tennessee and Virginia with practically no agenda. For the most part I need to travel alone because I often change directions, frequently backtrack, hurry up or wait for long periods of time. In my experience even the most patient companion becomes frustrated. The down side is when I see something amazing there's no one to share it with. If I could invent the perfect travel friend, he/she would be a great driver, relaxed, directionless, free of opinions, open to last minute changes, and then when the light has faded, and I'm through shooting, this person would morph into a great conversationalist and co-adventurer. Sounds incredibly selfish on my part, that's why I go alone. If you fit the above description, apply here.