9/11

Difficult to believe it has been 4 years since that day.

I had words, earlier today, swirling through my mind, but now they have left me. Now, when I think back, I remember the color of the sky that day ...

The sky’s still, the same unbelievable blue (from “Nothing Man” by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band)

... and talking to my girlfriend and making sure our family members were OK. And then watching TV until I couldn’t watch anymore. Thinking of a girl I know and love who lives 67 miles from the Pentagon. Going to take a picture of high school football players, like I did every Tuesday afternoon, and feeling grateful to do so, mainly as a reminder that life goes on, in spite of everything.

And then noticing the sky, for days and weeks afterwards, because there were no planes.

: (

On a lighter note:

I went to a craft fair today. And I took my camera along but did not take one picture while I was there ... mostly because I have learned that some artists can be rather, uhm, irritable when it comes to photographing their work ... except in Minturn, Colo., where the people participating in the weekly flea market were quite cordial and very enthusiastic about having pictures taken.

Although there was a row of sun tea jugs that I really should have photographed. They looked kinda cool, with the brown tea and the dark bags and the yellow lids, all in a line.

I left the fair feeling a little inspired. I am not crafty, really. I have dabbled in embroidery and counted cross-stitch and, once upon a time, I even made a macrame plant hanger (but then, so did everyone, back in the late 1970s!), and while I suspect doing crafts might be fun and, who knows, I might even be good at it: I really can’t think of anything crafty that I’d really like to do.

I left with mixed feelings regarding my photography. I mean, there are times when I take a picture and I think to myself, Wow, I really like that — especially when it’s something I have worked really hard to capture, or even when it’s something kind of extraordinary that I just so happened to click the shutter AND have in focus (this seemed to happen a lot when I was shooting sports on a regular basis) ... but then, sometimes, I think: Is it any good, really?

And then I remind myself: If I like it, that’s all that matters.

Perhaps I would feel differently if I were trying to sell my work.

I noticed that the artists seem to have different theories regarding their exhibitions. Some of them seem to want to talk to the people who come to their booths; others allow visitors to look over their works, answering questions if they are asked. Personally, I have the same approach to looking at crafts as I do to shopping: I just want to browse and be left alone. If I need something, if I want to know more about your work, I will ask you. Thank you.

(I also tend to like the artists who are actually doing their craftwork during the fair. I’m telling you, there were some tables there that, had I had an extra $500 or so, I would’ve been taking home a couple to put in my living room ... even though I really do not have the space.)

: )

Watched an excellent men’s singles final at the U.S. Open this evening. Of course, I was rooting for Andre Agassi, who ended up losing 6-3, 2-6, 7-6 (7-1), 6-1 to Roger Federer, so it didn’t have the finish I was hoping for; still, this year’s tournament was one of the best I’ve ever seen.

Agassi is amazing. He was playing in his 20th U.S. Open — and, at age 35, had a legitimate shot to win it!

My favorite moment, though, occurred after the semifinals yesterday, when Andre’s kids came running up to him in the tunnel.

I can’t say Andre is my all-time favorite tennis player or anything, but I do admire him. He started out as sort of a punk (not the punk-rock definition of a punk, but a “who does this punk think he is?” kind of punk), with the big ’80s hair and scruff and jewelry and high fashion, and the whole “image is everything” campaign, and for a long time, no one thought he could win a Grand Slam tournament. And then he won Wimbledon, to prove he was legit, and eventually he won a couple of U.S. Opens and even a French — in-between some pretty serious injuries and Hollywood romances with the likes of Barbra Streisand (!!!) and Brooke Shields, before marrying and divorcing Brooke, and then hooking up with fellow tennis player Steffi Graf.

This guy played some great tennis over the past 2 weeks, after hurting his back at Roland Garros and having to miss Wimbledon. He could have won today; he did not, obviously, but he had a chance.

That, too, I find inspirational.

Anything’s possible ...

: )