Tendons

We all have a past, some of us longer than others. Mostly it is buried in our brains, and never resurfaces. Sometimes memories are released, by a smell, an image, a sound. Suddenly they are there in perfect clarity, as if they had happened only yesterday. I like blogging because I can capture these memories when they resurface.

Here's one.

I was in college, Cornell University, winter 1974. My senior year, living in a house perched on the side of a gorge, with three other guys. I slept in a room with my good friend, Tom. We used to talk a lot. I was into photography, took pictures all the time, and wanted to do it for a living. Tom and I were talking about photographing women; I had just shot a model for a photography class.

I said to Tom, you know what I really like about a woman's body? The way tendons look under the skin. Such as the tendons behind the knee, on the sides of the neck. They show you what is really beneath the skin.

He looked at me an smiled. Now I really understand you, he said.

The only time anyone has ever said they understood me. Because I certainly don't.