polaroids

Last December I came here, to Iowa, for my friend Amy's birthday party. This year I'm here again. Here for a chance to sit on the couch in Amy's quiet apartment in Iowa City. To pet her cat, PJ. To witness the unfolding of her creative life, especially as displayed in the still life tableaus all around her home. I love this place for the old photographs and curious postcards tacked to the refrigerator, the polaroid snapshots strung up on an old clothesline in the living room.

The polaroids are home-made, souvenirs from her trip west this summer with her boyfriend John. They are inspiration for the story she's writing now, which is set out west among aspen trees ("they tremble, you know," she said, talking about the trees in the story).

There's something so delicious about visiting a home that's kept lovingly, a home with equal portions of sweetness and mystery. Amy's home is one of my favorites to visit. There is a lightness about it, a sense of humor, an appreciation for all the small beautiful things that bring pleasure.