In the first four minutes of our Spanish class, I have managed to confidently declare more ridiculous statements and ask more impenetrable questions than any of the other students who are very wisely holding their tongues. A rough translation of my gibberish would be: I have a little spoon. May I borrow your hair today? Is the fruit seller awake? The...
Read More
A snapshot: A woman walks down the road outside a small California town. She walks with a swing of her body, a comfortable yet deliberate walk. As I drive by I notice on this December day that she is barefoot. My passenger cries out, “Stop the car! Do you know who that is?” I don’t know who that is. “It’s Joan Baez!” To my passenger’s dismay I didn’t stop...
Read More
The guy on the TV screen tells me two things I didn’t know. One, I almost certainly have a skunk under my house because in winter that’s where skunks go, under houses. And two, if I don’t already own a Skunkinator, I need to run out and get one right now. Salesman he is, but the way he phrases it is more like two of the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism: We...
Read More
For a long time everything was colored by the public violence of that death. We saw it: Jackie, her pink suit splattered with blood, crawling across the back of the convertible. We saw it in photographs in the pages of Life magazine, and later on television, and we were children. When Vietnam became the first televised war, the precedent had been set: We...
Read More
Stephen Eginoire is a small man with abundant hair and a rock climber’s sense of fashion. He seems uncomfortable around the microphone, as if it might turn and devour him. It is Thursday evening at the Museum of Northern Arizona and Stephen is at the podium, leading us down into a world beneath the world, a photographic journey into the caves and aquifers...
Read More