WONDERS

Short Stories. Photos and pictures. Poems even.


4 Comments

mustavalkoista matkan varrelta

Nappasin pari mustavalkeaa kärryn kuvaa matkan varrelta. Päivä oli aurinkoinen, pilvet kirkkaan valkeat ja paksut. Matka Las Vegasiin kesti noin kaksi tuntia. Teimme pienen lenkin Valley of Fire kansallispuiston kautta, ei mitenkään vaikuttava, mutta hiljaista. Ja koska aikaa oli, nautimme maisemista kaikesta huolimatta.

rust

2015 05 28_5750 blog

rust

2015 05 28_5759 blog_edited-1Tämänkaltainen ilmoitus oli ikkunassa, nappasin kuvan netistä, koska en muistanut sitä ottaa paikan päällä. Matkalla Zionista Las Vegasiin pysähdyimme yhteen Trading Company- liikkeeseen. Kaikkea mukavaa, antiikkia, saviastioita, keramiikkaa, pieniä huonekaluja, intiaanien käsitöitä. Ja pieni ruokapaikka, missä kuulema pari päivää sitten oli vieraillut nelihenkinen suomalaisperhekin. Omistaja, joka oli puhelias ja muistuti jotenkin hobbitia, etsi kiihkeästi nimiä vieraslistalta, ei kuitenkaan heti sattunut silmään. Näin kaukana kun ollaan, suomalainen on voinut olla ruotsalainen tai saksalainen tai joku muu vaaleatukkainen perhe. Tietänette, että rakastan Amerikan intiaanien käsitöitä! Mukaani tarttui pieni navajo matto, kooltan 25×17 tuumaa. Maton nimi on, Two Gray Hills,  eli kaksi harmaata vuorta ja sen on kutonut Donald Woods. Työ on 100% villaa ja langan säie on ohut. Tämän tyyppisen kuvioinnin nimi on Eye Dazzler eli silmän häikäisija tai silmän sokaisija, kaiketi sen kauneudesta johtuvaa. Näiden mattojen arvo nousee vuosittain, siis hyvä sijoitus. Mottoni: Aina täytyy löytyä hyvä syy ostaa jotain kaunista!

navajo

navajo


6 Comments

two music men

1. The Whistler.

We, that is the Hubby, my sister and I were at the airport waiting to board the flight to San Francisco. Sunny morning, sweet music in the air. Hey, but there is no music at airports nowadays. Where did it come from? I looked around, sharpened my hearing, and found the source. The window washer was whistling! Beautifully. I had to go and see his face. I told him the melody was beautiful, how he enhanced the mood in the waiting area. Some thumbs went up from other fellow travelers. He was happy to hear that, and smilingly continued whistling the “Lara’s theme” from Dr. Zivago.

2. Rob the Musician.

In the tube to the aircraft, a young man was standing in front of us. Carrying the most worn out music case. I love old and I love patina. That would photograph so beautifully. But how ? Would I dare to ask? I DID. “Excuse me but I have been admiring your instrument case. It must be old.” “It is, it is from 1929.” “Could I possible get a chance to take a picture or two of it? ” “Sure, of course, ” he said, most likely wondering what kind of weirdo I am. Luckily my company gave me some presence to show that I’m just a curious old lady. I did mention I belong to a photo group in Finland where we challenge each other with contests of certain topics. This week it was “Soiva ääni ” or musical sound. A photo that would pervade the thought of sound thru the picture. This would be a great reply! So we agreed, we’ll find  some time to take a picture. During the flight we all snoozed off time to time, the space was tight, the flight was full. I slipped my new business card to him. It says “Photography “.  A little pompous, but it is what I do nowadays. With joy.

He sat right in front of us and while exiting the plane we agreed to take the pictures in the arrival lounge. He was so gracious and pleasant about it. “Where do you want to me put it? ” The sun was sifting bright thru the big windows, the bench was good. “Do you want me to move something? Should I take this off?” “No, no just let it be the way it is, it looks good.” I very seldom clean anything, it is what it is and looks good to me à la naturelle. That’s why it got my attention on the first place. The sax was beautifully engraved and it rested on the purple velvet. Inside was his business card and a sepia photo of someone. It did look familiar, like young Leonard Bernstein, but I did not ask. I wanted to tell him about my husbands close relative, William Schuman, friend of Bernstein’s,  but I did not. We introduced our selves, his name was Rob. He was waiting for his friend to arrive and had an hour to spend. He is from Brooklyn. No, he does not play in s band but jams with friends. The way he handled the instrument, I could tell he loved that sax and its patina and history, 1929 was a long time ago! I wish I had more time, but my companions were getting restless so we said good-bye. I promised to send all the pictures to him, which I did. Thank you, Rob!

By the way this picture got the third prize in the contest.

2014 05 12_0618