SITTING ON THE floor of the living room this morning, camera in hand, nothing better to do at the moment, I took this shot, an angle I’d never considered before.
What inspired me was the absence of something, a vine from a hanging pot, something that had lived in that corner, dangling from a ceiling beam for over a decade, covering — due to supports — much of that brick archway in one direction and down to the carved-wood post in another.
Yesterday, weary of watering it every weekend, and often having to duck under it, I cut the whole shebang down. I wonder how long it will be before my wife notices. It’s funny how the absence of things can go unseen.
It’s much better now, a cleaner look.
About a week after we moved into the Hacienda in 2003, we invited a bunch of folks over for a housewarming fiesta. One invitee brought a friend, an architect, who was visiting from above the Rio Bravo. The architect took a look at that brick archway and said it would be very difficult to find anyone in the United States capable of constructing such a thing these days.
It was done by hand, using no power tools.
The carved wood base was hand done at a nearby village that focuses on such work. It was my wife’s idea, as was the archway separating the kitchen-dining room from the living room.
She has good ideas.*
* * * *
* The best of which was marrying me.
(Note: The potted, raggedy plant is visible in this old shot.)