This blog title comes from a Raymond Carver poem called "Sunday Night," which is subject of my first post back in 2007.
When I moved to Paris as a 20-year old (many moons ago), I met another American student named Roger, who was also studying art. One day, early on, we walked around the city together. I was searching for a cheap guitar; he was after a corduroy jacket, like one he'd seen on a stylin' Frenchie. We both had a vision of ourselves in France. We didn't find either that day.
A year later, back in my Pennsylvania dorm room, I got an unexpected email from Roger. It was the Raymond Carver poem, which one of his art professors had shared with his class. He thought I would like it. I did. I do.
The poem talks about inspiration, about paying attention to the everyday details of life. The sensational quotidian (there really is such a thing, I swear) is an artist's greatest guide. At least that's what I believe, and that's what I think Carver's poem is about.
Before I knew about cameras I knew about poetry. My earliest creative memory is sitting with my mother, dictating a poem to her. I couldn't write yet. But I had visuals in my head, and she helped me get them out.
This blog is basically an extension of that impulse. For that matter, so is my career. Now I use words and images.
So back to Paris: eventually, I found a red guitar that cost more than I meant to spend. But I loved it all across that country. I can't remember if Roger ever found the corduroy jacket.
Oh, I like all sorts of things. Have you read my blog???