Tag Archives: black and white

From Germany with Love

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My father and I did a lot of talking about his dad, Henry V. Beck, while we were in Berlin. We wanted to see where he was at this extraordinary time of his life as an army man stationed overseas. I have some of these old photographs – we always love to compare how much my brother looks like him - and a very real and moving poem he wrote while so very far from the ones he loved. These artifacts sat for decades in an old army trunk in his closet and are now some of my most beloved possessions of this thoughtful and very elegant family man.

Henry_Beck_003 Henry_Beck_004 Continue reading…

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Part II: Paris

A black and white film journey through Paris and the beaches of Normandy.

Paris is so much to me…a constant source of inspiration, of light study, and beauty. When we stepped off the train from London at Gare de Nord, the smell hit me, that same familiar Parisian smell of coffee and cigarettes, and dusty old books in a garden of roses. The hotel, so quaint, with the Eiffel Tower framed between the walls of the street. We sat in cafes and drank wine, watching the people go about their day, their loves, their minds lost in their own thought. I wonder what they are thinking and have I thought that same thing before? We climbed the stairs of Sacre Coeur, danced with the states at the Louvre, and watched the sunset on Pont Neuf. On a poetic day we found ourselves on a train to Normandy, on a walk through the beaches of Omaha in silence, imagining the horror of war, looking up at the fate of too many. I always love Paris – it’s never goodbye but only I’ll see you soon…. and soon I did.

A black and white film journey through Paris and the beaches of Normandy. A black and white film journey through Paris and the beaches of Normandy.

A black and white film journey through Paris and the beaches of Normandy.

A black and white film journey through Paris and the beaches of Normandy. A black and white film journey through Paris and the beaches of Normandy. A black and white film journey through Paris and the beaches of Normandy. Continue reading…

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Part I: London

A black and white film journey through London and the English countryside.

We descended upon London, totally embracing being tourists – drinking London’s pride ale, eating fish & chips, visiting Westminster Abbey and the London Tower. We walked through Hyde Park in the rain and looked in awe at the crown jewels. We looked out over the vista of an English countryside, quiet and lush in the early morning mist at Windsor Castle, before turning back the hands of time to the wonders of Stonehenge. We laughed over a cup of tea at Oxford and watched the students walk by with our future in their hands. The beautiful streets, so proud, the people so elegant, I’ll always remember London as lovely as the classical music playing at Dean Street over the sound of soft falling rain.

A black and white film journey through London and the English countryside. A black and white film journey through London and the English countryside. A black and white film journey through London and the English countryside. A black and white film journey through London and the English countryside.

Continue reading…

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Portraits of Each Other

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In line with all the sentiment I put into our anniversary picnic, mementos from our life together, I chose this Pablo Neruda poem, a souvenir from our time in Santiago, Chile, to read to Kevin over our picnic spread… a verbal anniversary card if you will…which now unfolds into our visual history with these intimate and simple snapshots of each other capturing this time alone – he & I on the beach with nothing but the sea.:

“I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   

or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   

I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   

secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

 

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   

the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   

and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   

from the earth lives dimly in my body.

 

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   

I love you directly without problems or pride:

I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   

so close that your eyes close with my dreams.”

JamieBeck_KevinBurg_003 JamieBeck_KevinBurg_004

Continue reading…

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