About this time last year I was wandering the island of Culebra. Situated just 17 miles east of the Puerto Rican mainland, this tiny tropical gem stands alone as the archetypal Caribbean paradise — yet with just enough trappings of modern civilization (one good restaurant, paved roads, a motor scooter) to feel appropriately tethered to the structures of society one has tried so hard to escape.
Turns out Culebra means snake; yet it’s neither shaped like one nor did I see any. What can be seen are vast, virgin stretches of pristine tropical sand, laid forth under umbrellas of coconut palm — an especially breathtaking view at sunrise along the leeward side of the island. That’s opposite the harbor town of Dewey, where boats arrive each week from the mainland loaded down with supplies for the locals.
It’s here where I met the gentleman below, although to say “meet” is a bit of stretch. We made each other’s acquaintance several times, either while we were both milling around the pier or (to his surprise) when I was strolling the village at night. By the third such encounter he’d gotten used to me… enough so to allow his portrait to be taken — a completely natural pose, captured at the final moments of dusk.
A big thank you to Tad Heitmann and Michelle Vaughan, who recently purchased prints to support the relief effort in Japan; and to Lindsey Breeden, who has helped make this a cool site with a helpful cause.
Tad chose “Off the Wall,” which was shot back in 2006. I was walking through the streets of Havana one morning and a lens popped out of my sunglasses. As I was groping around (these were prescription at the time), a petite vieja (elderly woman) bent over to help, which would come as little surprise in Cuba. What I didn’t expect was to see the cacophony of corrugated textures and colors when I looked up… organized into what seemed like artistic perfection out of the chaos of Old Havana’s structural decay. See if you can locate the cat.
Michelle chose a very special photograph taken in (tough to pronounce) Tlacolula de Matamoros, located in the Mexican state of Oaxaca. There is a famous weekly market that takes place in the region. Like many markets around the world, this one boasts a colorful array of outdoor stalls and a catacomb of exotic foods and traditional clothing under the roof. While exploring inside, I turned the corner and captured “Marketplace, Tiacolula” in what was surely ethereal light.
Thanks again Tad and Michelle, and to everyone else who has indicated an interest in helping Japan through the acquisition of art. Barbara’s award-winning work, and Geneva’s growing collection of paintings — one of which was chosen for display at the famous Muñoz Waxman Gallery in Santa Fe — are also available for purchase. And don’t forget: following our successful campaign to assist the Red Cross in Haiti, I’m making available any image on the website for supporting Japan.
The saga in Japan continues, what with bodies washing up onshore and radioactive isotopes now contaminating the food chain. Aggravating the situation, including rescue efforts, is the cold weather and the temperamental wind currents, which for a lucky period of time were blowing out to sea. That’s not so lucky, of course. What’s between Japan and the California coast? Islands, and namely Hawaii, against whose air quality standards much of the world is measured. Fortunately, the threat is minimal. That’s looking at things from a continental U.S. perspective. From Japan’s point of view, think about it: earthquake, tsunami, nuclear meltdown (if only partial) — all at one time. It’s hard to imagine calling this anything other than a “perfect storm,” if ever a calamity of this proportion could be perfect. Thank you everyone for asking about my son Bobby, who lives with his mother in Tokyo. Both are doing fine… at least until they drink the milk or eat some spinach.