Making Memories

"Kodak sells film, but they don't advertise film. They advertise memories." - Theodore Levitt

Dripping Wet

A couple of times recently chatting with Felicity we got to talking about the memories we made while out on our adventures, things like searching for ice cream, I don't know if you're familiar with Trona, CA but if you're looking for ice cream, good luck! Or the time we ran into the Border Patrol at the Salton Sea, or briefly got stuck on the side of a very steep road in the San Bernardino mountains, then there was getting locked out of our room in Palm Desert, driving 12 miles into Arizona searching for a nonexistent Starbucks, or trying to shoot on main street in a ghost town when out of nowhere a dozen tourists show up. Things happen! And memories are made.

Hands

Does it seem that most memories are made by two or more people? I mean unless it's something truly dramatic I think we tend to remember what we did with our friends, but those times we are alone are some we'd rather forget, more or less. And does it seem we tend to remember the bad moments, or anxious ones, I like to think I remember them all, but often I've discovered it's the unexpected that stays with us.

Inappropriate

I want to share a memory from my first day with Felicity, and it didn't involve law enforcement, drama or tragedy, surprisingly, in fact it was quite unexpected and one I will not forget. We had left near 4am and drove a couple of hours in the dark headed for the high desert, I have no idea what she could have been thinking having barely met me for the first time 8 hours earlier picking her up at the airport. But here we were to make the most of the morning light, shooting, driving, talking and getting to know each other.

Know The Words

About 11am or so we were west bound on the 58 heading toward Kramer Junction to take the 395 up to Trona, we had taken a detour to Harper Lake but the place has been devastated by construction so we didn't stop. I wanted to get fuel knowing we'd be coming all the way back to Victorville for the night, so I pulled into a station at the junction. It was near midday and pretty warm out, Felicity had her camera in hand and was shooting some of the desert scenery, I pulled up and got out to put in gas. While the pump was running I walked back and opened the door, and for an instant I just froze, she was occupied by something she had shot and was looking intently at her camera. The camera bag was in her lap along with a pair of jeans, a bottle of Coke and of water crowding the seat beside her, topless but wearing an old skirt pulled up to her ribs, she just looked at me and smiled, practically laughing. She looked so at home, a look that kinda said 'been there done that', which was obviously impossible, but there I was, and at a total loss for words.    

With Wings

Something happened and I can't explain it, to this day I don't what it was but in that moment I felt something incredibly strong, something that brought me home. I reached into the back seat and grabbed my camera in order to take a couple of pictures of her, she smiled at first but her attention went right back to her camera and what she had photographed. I finished filling the tank and we were back on the road, it wasn't until several days later and after she'd left that I thought back about that moment, and I came across the photos I'd taken. I still can't quite get over how at home she looked, with all that stuff piled up around her, it appeared as though we'd been doing this for years.

Sweet Shores

3 days flew by, chasing the sun and shooting pictures and we were in our element, but before we knew, or wanted it to happen the time grew short and we had to head back to civilization, she had a flight to catch and the rest of her journey through the states to return to, but we managed to make a few more memories and captured them in pictures. Before I met Felicity I believed everything was about the image, the photograph and the feeling of the desert, but as we hugged each other good-bye at the airport I started to realize that this photo shoot was different somehow, I felt we had done well, we had beautiful photos and we both had fun, but this time it wasn't just about the images, it was about the memories, memories and the connection we made out in the middle of the southern California desert.

Missing The Time We Had

"The hardest thing about the road not taken is that you never know where it might have led." ~Lisa Wingate, A Month of Summer