when i last wrote...

everything is being delayed.
I could see the lake from the dormer, I could have seen it better if the skylight weren’t there. I noticed it when I hit my head against the screen. This was going to be the subplot for the next few days – my head meeting various low corners of the attic room.

Lake Champlain looked like a river – thought that New York State would be more distant.

This is where in some past life I was supposed to be if I hadn’t been a slacker in upper school. Middlebury, Williams, Bennington, Godard, were among names the councillor would rattle off. It was as if the college experience for the mid-Atlantic students entailed freezing in long New England winters.

An early stroll downtown before the shops open on a drizzly day, I keep looking for the lake, which is there somewhere but really doesn’t seem to have much to do with the city itself. I keep thinking State Street in Madison but there while you cannot see the lakes one seems to feel their presence more. Could do without the pedestrian mall but it was nice to see people – the sane ones – having coffee in the dozen or so coffee shops that weren’t Starbucks and that the pathetic indoor mall was not being used.

I knew that I could move here when I found the camera shop Lezot that sold film and cameras – new and used that use it. I went up the stairs and was confronted by a mound of Holgas while a person behind the counter was aiming an ancient Leica digital. In the back room there were enlargers, they had a good selection of papers. I was sold.

What closed the deal were the two used bookshops further along.

Still wanted to find the lake and walking to it I didn’t feel as if I were any closer to it. It wasn’t being used the way that Lakes Mendota and Monona are. There were tasteful amounts of people biking and jogging but it seemed so separate from the city that it seemed like an excursion in and of itself.

Afternoon wanders north of town and through a less college centred part of Burlington – me photographing the homeless encampments along the river Carol anxiously wanting to move on – and once in walking mode a stroll south to the arts area in south pine street past a gallery that has Connie Imboden’s work in it.

A discussion ensues on the value and drawbacks of print on demand books, as there is an I-photo book in the gallery.

I was wondering if I had brought the wrong camera, Joãozão is great for my gawking type of wander - I have to withdraw the bellows – roughly – focus and refocus as the infinity lock doesn’t catch at times, this is due to the black photographic tape, meter and make sure there is enough light for the meter to function – it doesn’t like dimly lit areas or when it is duckish. I forgot that Carol has these walks of death. If I dare slow down thinking that something may have registered she is blocks away. I should have brought the leiquinhas as they require less preparation. I found that I was passing things that I thought was interesting but by the time I was ready to make a snap I forgot what it was. I was still overburdened by cameras – along with Joãozão there was the digital – that Carol was supposed to use but I was taking more for extreme close-up – and the Diana which became the camera of wander once again.

Evening down to Starry Night – a restaurant that supposedly had good food Carol had only been as far as the car-park as the last time she was there she was retching with regularity from food poisoning.

- Wow the way you are dressed you must be from out of town. Our hostess greeted us. I had a shirt with a collar but didn’t differ too much from the regulars.

It turned out that we were being served by two people who had suffered art school – Pratt – one was a sculptor the other a hateful photographer. There was tag team conversation as one or the other would stop to chat between other duties.

Being artists we were surprised when our bill was a good $80 more than it should be – unless local beers are $20 a pint. We were given the wrong bill.

Back at the Bed and Breakfast we carried as many bikkies as tastefully possible up to the room.