Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts
By Alyce Wilson
I often find interesting things in the street. Over the last month or so, in three different places, I found negatives lying on the sidewalk. I attempted to get them all developed, but only had limited success.
The first negative appeared on the sidewalk just a block from my place. I found it while walking my dog. It was in sad shape, with gravel stuck to it in the front, as if it had been steaming in the heat and had been stepped on or driven over countless times.
Still, even in its "raw" state, this negative strikes me as artistic, particularly because of the two faceless figures on the left, separated by two frames of empty space and then the firm "talk to the hand" gesture from the solitary figure on the right. This negative is almost certainly destined to find its way into one of my graphics for Wild Violet.
I found the next negative about a week later in downtown Philadelphia, near the tourist section which is, coincidentally, also near the posher side of town. In this case, the photo lab told me the negative had been trimmed too short for them to reproduce it. They suggested trying another photo lab that might have different machines.
Until I get a chance to do that, I tried some computer manipulation, this time having a bit better luck.
In this case, you can almost make out the faces of the two subjects, who are wearing identical outfits and are apparently posing in an empty gym or large hall. Based on where I found it, these subjects are probably part of Philadelphia's privileged class. They're clearly wearing some of the "trendier" styles: one-shoulder shirts and flared pants.
Man, I always hated it when girls dressed alike. They even did their hair the same, for god's sake. I bet they even have a crush on the same boy.
I found the final negative in my dad's parking lot in Central Pennsylvania, about two weeks later. It was the only one in good enough shape to be developed.
It tells a photo story I call "Trailer Dog."
In the first picture, somebody is playing with a dog in a spacious back yard, apparently out in the middle of the country. The fairly large dog is jumping up to grab something. In the background, you can see a plain, old trailer and a backyard strewn with plywood and wooden spools.
This is where Trailer Dog lives. He is happy here: plenty of space and lots of squirrels to chase. Plus, people let him jump for sticks.
(If you're wondering how I know this is a boy dog, look a little closer.)
At first glance, the next photo doesn't look too good, does it? When I took this negative to the photo lab, I was afraid that I was going to be met by a police officer when I came to pick them up.
Maybe the person is preparing Trailer Dog for a mixed breed dog show: "Good form, Blackie! Good form! You're gonna take the blue ribbon!" Trailer dogs that are black are always called Blackie.
On the left side of the picture, barely visible, are two brown legs, presumably of another dog. This is not the favored dog. Blackie knows this. He is top dog. He will bring home a blue ribbon in the mixed breed dog show and the humans will give him treats. Life is good.
Moral:
Dogs appreciate the small things.
Copyright
2003 by Alyce Wilson
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