for my first thanksgiving i was flown across the country (from fast-breathing new york city) to san francisco, to spend the day with zelda’s family (thanks dearly to the kindness of her beautiful mother). i stayed in their castle of a home, on a cliff over water. in the sun-hazed distance you could see the san francisco bridge, like a tiny magnet in the sky. i looked at it through the glass and thought (as i often do) that this is something i could never have imagined happening to me.
their home was so filled with art i felt like i was wandering through a gallery. a museum of an extravagant life i couldn’t relate to. a secret world you needed a key for.
thanksgiving day was being prepared days before. chefs filling the kitchen and men and boys lifting furniture here and there, moving boxes, setting up tents. i knew something fantastic was being created and when it all came together it was like magic. there were psychics, a famous magician, a photobooth, champagne glasses that never emptied, waiters wandering with plates of beautiful foods and the hubbub of blissful children running wild under our feet. as always i watched it all through my camera.
thanks to cheesy american films i spent the night imagining that when it came to dinner we’d announce the things we were most thankful for. even though it never happened, in my head i heard myself say ‘most of all, and as cliche as it may be, i am thankful for life and the lives of those around me.’ and that means you too, dear readers. you give me a reason to photograph everyday. i have so much loyalty for you and without your love for this blog it would not exist and i would one day forget the little details.
black and white action by my lover