The cold outside made the home feel warmer. Warm in a way that is comforting and close and full of memories of the odor of pine needles and opening roses and baking dough and melting butter and seasonings, chopped, shaved, sprinkeld from cans with old-fashioned labels of bright red and blue and green. Seasonings that arrive in the arms of family and close friends and surprise guests that primp in front of mirrors and confuse everyone and make them laugh. This warmth floated across my skin like a cotton robe and cuddled with life in general, with the singing that fell through cracks in brick walls, with glow of cookies and kittens and dogs licking my hand and this warmth was both a memory and a longing and occassionally the moment. Then it passed and turned into an old movie that sat on a shelf and was never viewed. Yet it was nice to know it was there.
“Gladstone Street” acrylic on Tyvek paper 24″×36″ by John Fish 2011 from a photo of 3448 Gladstone Street in Detroit.