the return to the duck pond

The sound of the car’s engine. Warmth radiated from my heater, strength: 1. I discovered small holes in my stomach and I wondered if the butterflies were actually moths. Elf shoes, plaid skirt, light coat.

Movement at the front door
pulse quickens
The figure moves down the steps and into the darkness of Winter’s night
playing with my fingers
He sits in my car and happily hugs me. I return the favor.

Wheels devour the white lines and I wonder if we are in the future.
[empty parking lots]
My car is parked crookedly and we laugh about it.

We are walking; it’s chilly but not as cold as that first October night. I gaze into the glassy water and realize where we are.
“We’re at the duck pond, aren’t we?”
“Yeah.”

I start to shiver. I don’t know where we’re headed, but I trust him. The ground is soft and damp under my feet. I notice fading orange street lights and the occasional flash of a car’s headlights.

a sidewalk, three steps upwards, and we are standing before a bridge.
The water runs low, rocks protrude from the bed.
The streetlights battle the ever coming night.

We walk across the bridge, me, him, and our shadows.
I am a sponge. Absorbing each sensory feeling. My mind is quick at work, preserving this, this.

Dark structures lie before us. A playground
sits in the darkness.
“I grew up with this playground. It’s one of the old kinds, metal chains, slides. Not the plastic kinds.”

“Where are the swings?” I ask.
“Over there.”

When on the swings, we could no longer rely on our senses.
Reality blurred and the dim lights, the dark sky and trees like vessels intertwined with the sound of our laughter and the quiet creaking of the chains, breath after breath, together we swung in darkness.

Climbing the chain net, running down wooden swing bridges, feeling the wet metal. The smell of damp woodchips. Conversation breaks Winter’s spell.

“When I was a camp counselor last summer, I took the kids to the park. I remember they picked up all this mud and put them in small piles on this ledge. They asked me if I wanted to buy ice cream. I pointed to a pile and asked, ‘What flavor is this?’ Then, the senior counselor started to yell at me, telling me not to let them play with dirt. I said, ‘They’re four years old! That’s not dirt, it’s ice cream.’ What I love most about kids is that they still have their imaginations, they see what we can’t.”

I smiled.
The town pool lay hidden behind fences that we could not breech. We gave up trying to find a hole in the fence.

We walked around the pond. Giant puddles reflecting the trees. Ducks sitting silently. Contentedly.

We passed over the spot where we shared our first kiss
and felt the Universe twirl all around me.

Dragonflies

What is the meaning of a dragonfly?
“It lets us see past the illusion, letting light in so that we can see what we need to see to make our lives better. When we’ve tricked ourselves into believing that the limitations of physical existence prevent us from changing and growing, Dragonfly medicine teaches us to pierce our self-created illusions. Dragonfly reminds us to let our colors shine by using the light within.”

As a creature of the wind, the dragonfly totem represents change. It’s iridescent wings are incredibly sensitive to the slightest breeze, and so we are reminded to heed where the proverbial wind blows – lest we run into stormy weather.

TONIGHT was Ms. Thomas’ wedding. Their big day. The first day of their lives, the day when Love conquers all, no matter what.
>>>After a long and grueling trip in Katie’s car, putting up with Mildred, the British GPS lady going completely insane, stopping at Melanie’s aunt’s home and meeting the pug that stared at me with huge eyes and speeding out of a giant storm cloud on the NJ Turnpike, we, myself, Samantha, Katie, and Melanie, made it to the wedding–five minutes late. As we jumped out of the car and allowed the Valet Parking men to do their jobs, I noticed the hazy blue and white sky above us. The storm didn’t dare to approach and disturb this wedding. I quickly dashed across the lawn to the river edge of the Glen Foerd Mansion in Pennsylvania, seeing that Hope had already been walked down the aisle and many of the colorful guests were seated. Hands with fans moved in a synchronized motion like an orchestra on this humid July evening. Behind the bride, groom and the priest, the Delaware river gently swayed with the soft summer breeze. Upon seeing Ms. Thomas–Hope Thomas, in her stunning dress, I dropped everything and quickly pulled out my camera. I looked to my left at the “professional” photographer for the evening, and he glanced back at me, smirking. Of course I knew what he was thinking; me with my Nikon D40 with it’s original lens. I stood up taller and positioned myself, making myself busy with all the different angles and settings. So what if he has a nicer lens? We’re still capturing the same memories, right?
>>>The flower girl waddled along near the bridesmaids dressed in mauve. She approached Hope’s long, white dress, lost her balance and toppled over! Her mother, a bridesmaid, quickly rushed to her aid as the crowd started to giggle. Hope’s two friends stood up to read the prayers and response prayers, and as the short Asian in the green dress started to say, “We pray…” she started to laugh out loud, causing an immediate chain reaction. After some more giggles, Richard, the groom, Hope’s love, had his band play a song for them. Hope and Richard stood hand in hand looking intently at one another, softening each moment with a smile. After the five minute song, the priest says, “Can we get on to Part two now?” In a sarcastic tone. More laughter from the crowd.
>>>Richard cleared his voice, ready to read his wedding vows. “I love you.” He said that first. He looked into her eyes and said it. Like he was saying it directly to her soul. He said he was nervous. He spoke about when he and Hope first met at a cafe, hoping to see her again, how he had connections and how he knew he was in love when he first saw her. He spoke about how he loved that she talked a lot when she got nervous–the complete opposite of what he does, and how that completes him, that they had perfect chemistry from the get-go. She quickly wiped a tear from the crest of her eye and laughed.
With a shaky voice and watery eyes, Hope proceeded on reading her wedding vows. She talked about the butterflies in her stomach when she first met him, and how at that moment they were gigantic butterflies. She said that she felt the butterflies from her head down to her toes. She told him she loves him. She told him how special he was, how much she loves him, and some reasons why. “I love when you try to dance.” “When I ask you to run to the store for paper towels and milk, and come back with three types of cookies and no paper towels.” “I love how I can’t stay mad at you, after minutes we’re laughing and joking again.” She mentioned the two friends that hooked them up, and how she didn’t know whether he liked her when they first met.
>>>Every single moment, from the silence between them as they held hands, to the last breath she took after her wedding vows, I felt enveloped in happiness and love. Like nothing else existed. Tears welled up in my eyes, I couldn’t feel the heat or the sweat, I saw them kiss, and kiss again, and again, and again. Hope said, “Hey.. the priest told us to do it!” after the sixth kiss. My camera didn’t stop clicking. I prayed, I hoped that I could capture more than just the light, more than just the picture and the colors. I hoped to capture the essence of the love they shared between them, their happiness and their peace.
>>>We all entered the mansion after the huge group photo, and began to follow the waitresses and waiters around, chasing them down for the scrumptious and intricately placed appetizers. There were crab balls, fried ravioli, pork with sweet apple dressing, seared tuna and crackers, cheese pasta and bread and various colored drinks from the bar. I walked around slowly, savoring the perseverance of the mansion. Art was hung everywhere, mahogany and gold were dominant, and guests walked lightly with glasses of wine at hand, chatting merrily. Each room at the mansion was unique, some had shelves of colorful china, stained glass cups and glasses of every shape and size, painted portraits and exotic flowers and aged wine caskets. The main room was dressed beautifully with white tablecloths and chandeliers and vintage artifacts on display. Candles were sprawled amongst the tables, glowing heartily.
>>>As Hope walked in after the long photo shoot outside, she spotted me and shrieked happily. She asked me if I had seen “the upstairs” yet, I shook my head, and she told me it is an art gallery! So I walked up with her, and looked around. There in this grand room there was a stained glass skylight, a room adorned with age old paintings, china, glass wear and pottery from the mid-1800’s! The details and colors were simply marvelous. I exited the room and was about to climb to the third floor when I read a sign, “Bridal Party ONLY!” and I quickly backed away. At that exact moment, I turned around and faced the groom! Nervously I blurted out, “Hi, Congratulations! I’m…Ms. Thomas’ student.”
“Oh I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“Claire!”
“Thank you so much for coming, I appreciate it.”
“I’m glad to be here.”
>>>And the small talk continued, until he finally headed upstairs. I went back down and realized the crowd was gathering around the staircase: They were going to make their second grand entrance. I skillfully slipped next to the staircase in a corner, equipped with my camera. To the song, “Such Great Heights,” by The Postal Service, each pair of the Wedding Party was announced as I quickly snapped photos of them. Hope and Richard were last, Hope in her dancing dress and Richard in a lesser suit. Everyone cleared the main floor as they went hand and hand and began to dance. They truly were lovers meant for one another.
Afterwards, we were allowed to get dinner buffet style. There was pork stuffed with greens, smoked bass, spinach greens and bread, filet mignon, grilled chicken, sweet potato in brown sugar butter sauce, stuffed onions and the vegetable platter. The steak was soft, the sweet potato was sweet, the fish was delicious; everything was delectable!
>>>A lady came around to each table telling us that the wedding cake and dessert was to be served in the ball room. The room was beautifully set up, with the shiny white cake sitting atop a table, other tables across the room with white cloths and candles upon them, windows surrounded us and beyond them, the shimmering lake. The bride and groom entered and I found yet another cozy spot, perfect photo opportunities. I’ve never seen two people more happy to hold a knife at the same time to cut a cake. Hope and Richard being the jokesters they are, their first pose with the knife was the “serial killer pose:” knife in both hands in a downwards stabbing motion, plus angry face. Everyone laughed. Cake was served, and music started to blast as Hope started the party! She hopped onto the dance floor with some of her friends, and they were tearing it up. The flower girl and her older sister danced too–they were the most hyper. I stood there taking more photos, laughing at Hope dancing as if she was 21 in her first club.
Richard soon joined her, and as they danced and laughed like maniacs, I realized once again how much time and life we have left. I was with a group of seventeen year olds and we were dancing alongside 30 year olds. I smiled and let the moment take me once again. Music filled the room as cakes, canolies, cheese cake and chocolate covered strawberries filled our anxious tummies.
>>>To relax, Meghan and I took a stroll around the river’s path. The full moon casted her enchanting spell upon the earth below, calming the river, creating a soft, white glow around everything it touched, even the shadows. She just graduated, and we talked about our futures, where we think we would end up, what we’ve seen and what we haven’t. She said she has never been on an airplane. I wanted to show her everything, all my travels, what I felt, my experiences. I told her that I want to live my life experience to experience, place to place. After sitting quietly just watching the moon, we decided to go back in and dance.
Finally, upbeat music started to play, and feet were on fire on the dance floor! The photographer was hot on the spot, taking hundreds of pictures in an instant on the growing dance floor. Hope and Richard left the room for a few minutes, and a small crowd of 15 were left. The music didn’t stop here though. Slowly we heard it: One More Time by Daft Punk. Everyone started to clap their hands and move their feet. We created a giant circle and some guests danced crazily in the center. The flower girl’s sister performed Irish river dancing, which was quite amazing. Hours were spent dancing the night away, getting down and getting dirty. Patricia told me to put down my camera and dance some more. I complied and walked hastily back to my camera bag, thinking.
>>>We said our goodbyes and took one last group photograph. Sitting in the car preparing for the hour and a half drive back, I thought about what being a photographer meant. I’m in no way a professional, but a question loomed upon me, To capture or be captured? I realized that being in the moment is just as important as capturing the moment. I became so caught up in capturing the moments and savoring the memories through my photographs that I almost forgot to enjoy them myself. Being on the dance floor without the camera for that hour allowed me to fully immerse myself in the moment without having to worry about lighting or angles or settings. When I thought I was missing great photo ops, I really wasn’t. I was in that opportunity, I was experiencing it first hand. Dresses twirled, arms waved, bodies swayed, I lived in the moment. I, for once, was captivated.
>>>Hope and Richard’s theme was the Dragonfly, and what the dragonfly brings. Change. Ironic, huh? For me, this summer has been all about change, seeing it, being it, embracing it and hating it. Change for the good and for the bad. For Hope and Richard, they’re spending the rest of their lives together. As for me, I have so much of my life to live. How beautiful, I thought, when they first kissed, and kissed again. How beautiful true love is. Being a photographer teaches two great skills: it allows one to zoom into the fine details of an experience as well as to zoom out to see the big picture, to see life in the long run.

Orange Nectar

:) Orange nectar… the thought is heart warming. You know what’s funny? I say ‘warm’ like w + arm, not like whoa + arm. You know I just thought you’d LOVE to know that fact about myself.

I am a busy bee.

Tonight, I hope to make it to Jackie’s house party. I’m not so sure about rides even, and I’m leaving for Atlantic City early tomorrow morning…and I spent my last few “points” going to the Aladdin Smoke Shop (Hookah Bar! Did I tell you I went to my first hookah bar?!) and slept over Jessica’s house. Oh, the way my point system works, basically… I decide what’s top priority on my list of summer activities, you know like parties, sleep overs, going to the mall, going out to eat, going to the movies, and for example, Friday night I would skip out on going out to the movies in order to go out Saturday night to sleep over so and so’s house, for my parents sake. -_- Yes, it gets rather annoying, but it’s a cinch for me.

Ah! The Aladdin Smoke Shop. Big sign when you walk in “MUST BE 19 OR OLDER TO ENTER, PLEASE HAVE YOUR ID OUT.”  ID? What ID? 19? Sure!
Yeah, they don’t card, they liked us. :)  I was hesitant to go because 1) I have asthma, and I’d rather not damage my lungs even more because they already are from birth -_- and 2) Hm, I guess I don’t have a second reason. Fritze drove us in her sweet, stick shift BMW with Tim in the front, me, Jun, and Jess in the back. The shop was actually very ambient. The carpet needed a change, but each “station” which were like caves in the wall all Aladdin like, with sofas and comfy pillows and dim lights. We blasted the Sublime and it was aaall nice. We chose… xtasy (haha Fritze) and Mango! We saw 3 other girls on the other side, and we invited them over and.. yeah, we did it, we each took 4 at once. Hahah that sounds so bad. But it was fun. They had great flavors.. some African something and Tropical something. Yummmy. It was a very interesting experience. And I found out i’m a good ‘giver’ ;) if you know what I mean. Hahaha.

Slept over Jessica’s and… okay, we FINALLY got to try the donuts. It worked for me. It more than worked for me…Jesus lol, but not them :/ I don’t know why. Wow. So, yeah.

I really want to go to Jackie’s tonight. Meeting new people = good. Relax and have fun at a party = good. Change = good.

Atlantic City tomorrow… more party, with the cousins :)
I’m psyched, are you?

“This is fate, right?”

So, I’ve been continuing to watch the Code Geass series (anime.)
It was Tim who told me about it.
Which reminds me of my dream… I was in the car with Tim, driving to Jiyun’s house. And I remember thinking about all the shit he did, and I wondered why I was in his car in the first place. So I turned to him and I awkwardly asked, “How’s your summer going?” and all of it was just so awkward. And I was in a neighborhood…and I knew, somehow, that it was Jiyun’s. So I asked him which house it was and he pointed it out. I also started to talk to him about the series, and how the character Shirley dies. I told him I cried a lot. (Which I really did.) Interesting.

Oh. I almost forgot. Usually, at the end of every school year I would give a quick over-view of the year. Some thoughts, words, reminiscences.

  • There was Mr. Alcindor, the sexy, mulatto, hard-core video game / comic fan & Literature teacher who was slightly cynical and very chill.
  • Then there was Ms. Manning, the unmarried, intelligent and extremely sarcastic and laid back History teacher who devoted the rest of her life helping her sickly mother.
  • Mr. Middleton. The mole. The pervert, the bane of our existence, the chemistry teacher. I would not like to talk about him anymore.
  • Fat lady gym teachers, sexist and egotistical male gym teachers. Whatever.
  • Mr. Vodofsky, the photography teacher. Nothing special, really.
  • And Mrs. Grotto… the economics teacher with the boisterous-ish personality like Ms. Manning’s. Very funny, whimsical, grandmotherly like. So cute and modest though.
  • Ah, Mr. Iannucci. My big brother, my awesome Algebra teacher. He had the stunning ability to really get along with his students…on a non-school level, which I loved. He’s too cool.
  • Mr. Kelly & Ms. McClure, the band teachers, the big cheeses of the music program. They conduct pretty well, and we’re pretty damn good because of them.
  • Mr. Champagne… Oh dear, I miss him the most. Probably one of the most memorable people I have ever come across in my short existence. Inspiring, entertaining, hopeful, real…he is one of my heroes.

So those are the teachers, folks! I have to admit, when I wasn’t studying my balls off or sleeping for 4 hours, I really felt so comfy in all my classes (except for chemistry, chemistry can die) School was just so…comfy.

Then… there’s Harris’ car and the evolution of his music. I swear, like 10% of my time throughout the school year was spent being in his car and in Tim Egan’s car hahaha. Harris’ car is like my 5th home. I feel safe in there. And he plays awesome music… I wish I could’ve documented the change of his musical preference!

Let’s see. There’s Joe’s house. :) Joe with his GIGANTIC plasma TV, our Halo 3 / Super Smash nights with Joe, Tim and Harris…so much fun. occassionally we’d have other people over, but it was just the 4 of us usually.

Applebee’s. I’m going to seriously, seriously miss the half off appetizers after 10pm with those guys. I love being with all of them…even if i’m the only girl most of the time.

Noodle fighting and being bored: that’s what we did best. Everything was spontaneous, NYC, Dick’s sporting goods, Ice Cream, Video games, Soup!

Borders. Gosh… Borders is still the haven for Harris and I. We still go just to sit and read. We’ve had good times there, studying, looking at weird books, like Would You Rather…? Tazo tea. Books…lovely, lovely books.

NYC. With Rita and Kate! Then with Harris, Orphee, and Pratik. Amazing experiences. :)

Rita’s house and all the fun that brought…

Mexico, Spring Break! One of the greatest experiences of my young life.

Mr. Champagne’s events and his stories, I vow to never, ever, never, forget his stories.
____________________________________

God. The work was SO HARD. and I worked pretty damn hard…and everything ended up nicely :) I’ll miss everything. Everything. I think i’ve typed enough. Hopefully my memory will take care of the rest.

A Title

A Few Thoughts post-haircut:

I remember, sitting in my aunt’s hair..chair, I remembered how I felt, getting my haircut. I didn’t want her to cut it off. I knew that I wanted something different, but I was afraid it would go wrong. And I eventually just sat there and nodded my head, and let her have her way. So she cut it, and I watched as all of it drifted off to the floor and gathered like dead grass. I knew I couldn’t go back. I then realized that change isn’t about trying your hardest to keep what you had while trying to grab hold of something new at the same time, it’s about letting go completely and finding yourself someplace new. Change can be something as simple as taking a new route to your sixth period class, but that requires you to abandon the old path and choose a new one. Sure, your old path won’t disappear completely, I mean you can always just go back to it. But the real question is, when you’ve completed your journey down the new path, when you think you’ve changed enough and you look back to what you used to be, or where you used to be, you ask yourself if you truly do want to go back. You’ll think about your new experiences, the people, the places, the feelings that you felt when you finally decided to change, and you’ll realize you wouldn’t have any of it if you had stuck to what you normally do. Of course, sticking to routine is never a bad thing, but to those who feel as if there is never another route to period six, there is. And there always will be.

You just have to turn that corner
and keep on going.