When you got nothing to do and you are a kid, you jump off railings into snowbanks, I guess.
Author: duckshots
Lapsed lawyer. Reader. Photographer. Jewish. Strongly attached to loving, caring, wife-Sharon. Working at remaining relevant. Hoping that my body and mind outlive my dreams. Maybe something I blog will make some sense.
Teena and Michael on Main
Teena and Michael sit on Main St. Can’t go to Turning Point, a drop in, because it only opens for meetings.
Judge Costello Courthouse Clock
How can you give people time or fine them for not being on time when the clock on the courthouse doesn’t work. Not only doesn’t it work, but the faces don’t have the same times.
Woman with the Wings Tatoo
Went to an all day arts program. Talking to a woman with a tatoo on her back about a portrait shootshoot. She became animated and knocked her wine off the table, hitting me, before it hit the floor. Clean up time. I left to wash my jeans before they stained.
Mike at Park
“Not with the same girl you saw me with at JUMP.”
Neisha Kaitlyn and Pandora
Texting, knitting, sitting and staring. Boys boxed. “It it fake or real,” I asked. “Fake,” said Kaitlyn.
Larry Bottle Guy
Larry relaxes after picking up bottles. Rolls a cigarette. Kicks back.
He said his brother died last spring. He took over the bottle business. “You should see me with a full load.”
He does what he has to do to survive.
Quarantined
My friend Tom Barber asked me to care for this model. She must be in shock, moving from the New North End to downtown. We welcome her. But she isn’t talking yet.
Karl Berry, Sr.
So, I have been learning from the people of Burlington about life in the Queen City, making friends on the street. Ever meet a poet? Came upon him one day in the park.
He’s writing a book of poetry. Needs photos for his social media and for the book jacket. We be working with each other’s lives.
Mike and Richard North on Cherry Street
I know a lot of these people, but I had not met Mike or Richard North until this week. According to Mike, they control the ramp leading off I89. I had meant to visit out there where a whole different crew hangs out to find out what their needs were and whether they were on the social services chart or not. One of the Cots people introduced me to Richard. He agreed to let me take his picture. Mike introduced himself, beseeching me to take his and put it on America’s Most Wanted.
I found the two of them sitting on the shady side of Cherry Street on a cold, cold, cold day. “We slept on the street,” said Richard. “Mike tried to get himself arrested, but he was too drunk.” No wonder he wanted to be on the show.
