documenting worlds
photo essays by annie appel
Passages
Nostalgia, (2001)*
Still life photography a little too still,
too tidy, too slow, too careful, too quiet
until that lonely winter in the half-emptied
warehouse where we'd made a life together.
A wedding gift to my parents, the owl was filled with cinnamon and sugar for sweet toast.
|
Soon after I was left for another, bed springs found on a walk through a field, that turned out to be couch springs, after all.
|
Headless angel, for no fault of her own, salvaged from a heap of imperfect figurines behind a workshop in Mexico.
|
Mom's wedding shoes, 5 1/2 B.
|
The lady lint brush from Grandma's shelf.
|
After you left me you sent this vase from France filled with flowers.
|
A life-sized doll, stripped naked, hanging from a post surrounded by a circle of laughing women. "That's not funny," and they were silent as I left, doll in hand
|
Dad's exam chair, from his office on Arizona Street.
|
A fountain pen I found on the sidewalk near her house.
|