I’ve gotten all sorts of notes about my profile picture, from the benign to the absurd. It’s not about bondage, or a subtle call to come tie me up. It’s not an artistic expression on the state of black gay men in America (although I was feeling that one). Nothing kinky. Nothing political. Just one image from a hot day frozen in time. It does seem a little strange though ... but so am I.
Picture it: Jersey City, 2005. A summery Spring day with J and I drifting about downtown, hitting our favorite coffee shop, sushi place, walking along the 
waterfront ... just enjoying the day, and the delicious sight of shirtless young Latino men in full spring fever mode.
waterfront ... just enjoying the day, and the delicious sight of shirtless young Latino men in full spring fever mode. And finally as we walked through the ornate and densely planted Van Vorst Park on our way home, I was shocked by the sudden appearance of a little white boy ... up a small, oddly twisted tree.
It was almost surreal, catching him in the corner of my eye. It didn’t even register at first … and when it did it startled me. The tree was sparse the way some are in spring, and one beam of sun caught the boys blond hair and illuminated his face as we passed. 
He must have been seven or eight years old, just lounging there like it was his living room, watching us watching him.
A few paces later, we backtracked because I thought it would make a beautiful picture. I whipped out my camera phone and aimed … but he was gone. Just like that in a matter of seconds, gone … like vapor. We scanned the area, still, no little blond boy. It was spine-tingling and I joked that maybe he was the apparition of a kid who’d died after falling from a tree, and now his soul skulked the 
park, hopping from branch to branch ... scaring the shit outta people with his vanishing act.
Maybe to change the sudden creepy energy I felt wash over me, I told J to climb into the tree and I’d take his picture instead. An hour later, we’d taken tons of pics of each other, clowning in the tree where the boy used to be.
Something about that day was special, magical almost, so the ghostly boy was par for the course.
I always try to document days like that, by doing something crazy, trying something new ... or taking a picture or two ... 
He must have been seven or eight years old, just lounging there like it was his living room, watching us watching him.
A few paces later, we backtracked because I thought it would make a beautiful picture. I whipped out my camera phone and aimed … but he was gone. Just like that in a matter of seconds, gone … like vapor. We scanned the area, still, no little blond boy. It was spine-tingling and I joked that maybe he was the apparition of a kid who’d died after falling from a tree, and now his soul skulked the 
park, hopping from branch to branch ... scaring the shit outta people with his vanishing act.
Maybe to change the sudden creepy energy I felt wash over me, I told J to climb into the tree and I’d take his picture instead. An hour later, we’d taken tons of pics of each other, clowning in the tree where the boy used to be. 
dangling from a tree.
That's just me.
4 comments:
the pics look good to me...i will admit that just seeing the first one made me think of roots
I like the picture and I know if you were running from a pitbull you could get up a tree. So cute
(dj diva) LOL @ Roots! That's the most common perception.
(stone) as a kid i used to climb huge trees and temp fate doing death defying things while still in a cast from my previous stunt.
now ... even short stumpy trees give me vertigo. The ol' bones just don't heal like they used to.
Whatever the inspiration, i'm just glad you decided to post more. The profile pic was something of a teaser. If you ever want to do some more, let me know. I'd love to work with you as a subject.
;-)
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