Category: NFN

Dear Jens,

I’m looking forward to the prints. I had thought about asking you for a while, but it didn’t seem like the right thing for me to bring up, in particular with you never really accepting your role quite as you should — it seemed and it still seems that I’m running a risk here, making our acquaintance less and less about the appointments at my office.

Your phrase ‘good gloomy’ strikes me as awfully true, perhaps too true, because it’s about more than the images I selected. I wonder whether this is how you aim to see yourself? I’m never sure whether you would even like to see the world in more cheerful ways than you do. Perhaps all you are hoping to gain from our conversations is the confirmation that you are gloomy in a good way, and should really stay as you are. Beware, I don’t like the idea of being happy with how one is, even if there really was a darkness that isn’t dark, or a gloominess that’s really charming.

Do I have reason to believe that you will keep your appointments when there’s something at my office you want to see, namely your very own images?

Take good care of yourself, as always,

Dr. Hare

Dear Dr. Hare,

I’m so pleased that you selected two of my images for your office. Will this make up for some of the missed appointments? I can only hope.

I just sent the files to the printer, so you should have the prints — assuming JFK won’t shut down again due to the weather — less than two weeks from now.

You chose two of the gloomiest images from the whole forest/tree series. How come? Obviously, I’m flattered, because I like these images myself. In my experience, people don’t usually get ‘gloomy,’ except of course when they mix up ‘arty’ and ‘gloomy.’ ‘Good gloomy’ seems underrated. But what do I care about that when I contemplate your choice.

Right now I’m looking out the window at the ice storm. Five minutes ago a large pile of ice broke off from the roof and crashed into the yard. It could have killed a grown man easily, and reminded me of avalanches in the Dolomites, the ones later in the winter when the melting snow turns into ice. Down on the street, a car has been parked at an odd angle all morning, blocking half of the street. Apparently the driver just gave up and left it there.

I will see you soon.

Jens

These two images from an ice hockey practice session near Harlem Meer. They oddly remind me of the winter of 2000 in NYC, when it was close to 65 degrees in mid February, and I got myself a slight sunburn from sitting outside during lunch break. Ever since, I’ve been longing for a similar taste of spring in the middle of winter. It never happened (at least not when I was here).