||Routine||

Posted on March 21, 2014 by curtissimpson

5:59 AM. Friday. Annoying ringtone going off. I hate that ringtone.

Eyes open. Dark.

I woke up before the sun had a chance to come over the mountains.

My comforter grips me like a warm hug that won’t let me go. Every inch I move out into the cold bedroom, it pulls me back.

Why am I doing this.

It’s too dark in this apartment.

A river of white and red light pours down 15th Ave illuminating my room

I poke my head above the backboard to glance at the commuters at this god awful hour but before I know it I am back under the covers.

Here we go

I make sure to take a 5 minute shower to save time and money

A little bit of product in the hair goes a long way

This tooth paste is ehh but it is supposedly good for my enamel

Brush

I forgot to take out my retainers.

This tooth past is ehh but it is supposedly good for my enamel.

Slacks, slacks, slacks, slacks, slacks, slacks, slacks

Jeans it is.

flannel? Not today.

Chambray? With jeans? What is this the 90’s?

Button up with a tie. Plan A.

Button up with bow tie? Plan B.

Plan B it is.

Key. Check.

Phone. Check.

Wallet. Check.

Bus fair…..

(cling, clang, shuffle, ding, cling, clang)

Guess I am paying with dimes today.

Here we go Curtis. Out into the cold.

Cling clang goes the 25 dimes in my pocket.

Slish slosh goes the half empty water bottle in my bag.

Ping goes the frigid hair standing on my body.

Clatter goes my teeth as they chatter.

Pit pat goes my bag as it slaps my back as I walk.

_________________________

At this point this must read as a routine. It is.

I need/resent routine. I like living wildly but when you have a job and a bus route

Hell, we all need a little but of routine then.

Cling clang goes the 25 dimes in my pocket.

I need the money to pay the rent.

Slish slosh goes the half empty water bottle in my bag.

I need to go in early to have overtime to make up for taxes

Bong goes the frigid hair standing on my body.

I got to pay the bills.

Ping goes the frigid hair standing on my body.

I need to be a responsible adult.

Clatter goes my teeth as they chatter.

I need to start here to get somewhere

Pit pat goes my bag as it slaps my back as I walk.

I need to….

Darkness over the hill.

As I look over the hill, I see the other half of the world asleep.

The D line should be here in 6 minutes.

Rummage rummage rummage

5, 10, 15, 20, 24…

Rummage rummage rummage

25 dimes.

Turn around.

And there is the other half of the world. Awake and alive.

Fuchsia exploded skies.

Orange streaked beauty.

Crimson gushing on the horizon.

Beauty.

The D line will be here in 2 minutes.

Home lights slowly dotting the hill as they wake.

School buses off into the city in caravans.

Steam rising from huddled people holding onto coffee.

The D line will be here in 1 minute.

Old bearded man with tattoos reading newspaper.

Girl with puppy.

Two men running from the 32 to catch their transfer.

The bus has arrived.

I think I will sit here and catch the next bus.

I want to watch the sunrise.

I can spare 12 minutes.

I like this routine.

//staring up\\

Posted on March 8, 2014 by curtissimpson

Friday. 5:03pm. Downtown. Skyscrapers. Buses. Loud. Cigarette Smoke. Chefs taking a break. Group of women talking about where to go for happy hour. Disgruntled mother and crying baby. Business man bragging that he is going to get it with Cheryl. Homeless man sitting aloof next to cardboard sign “I bet you $1 you will read this sign”

For the first time this week the sun had come out. I sat at my cubicle transfixed on the clock on the task bar.

4:48:32 pm. 4:48:33 pm. 4:48:34 pm. 4:48:35 pm. 4:48:36pm. 4:48:37 pm.

And there it was. Two pieces of paper that had just enough space between them sitting on top of a cubicle allowed a beam of light to grace the back of my hand. Living in a city that is blanketed by clouds half of the year can get to you sometimes. I thought I was prepared with my supply of Vitamin D and pictures of sandy beaches but every year it is the same thing. Depressed and missing that 8 minute old light.

I will say this though. When the sun does come out I forget about everything. Like a child seeing something new, I stepped out of my office staring up. Soft clouds that looked like cracked mud after a hot day. Dotted clouds that looked like soft stars in a night sky. Robbins egg blue, Ruby red streaks., Juicy orange bursts of light streaking right above my head.

I am indeed on of those people in the mix. From another person, they could add “Man with red shoes glued to phone”. I was more worried about catching the next bus home but that could wait. This moment will be the only moment in my life. This 8 minute old light will grant this special view of a beautiful twilight sky.

Phone in pocket. Head up. Sunset. People walking past me. Big smile. Continue with my day.

Posted on February 20, 2014 by curtissimpson

8 Minute Old light

Posted on February 4, 2014 by curtissimpson

22nd Ave NW. Lime green Ford Fiesta passing by. Light post tattered with old promos and advertisements. Woman with white sweater with grey stripes. Homeless man in poofy blue jacket. Couple arguing at intersection. My name is Curtis and I love people watching. There is something relaxing about observing others. Even in a bustling city, you can sit down on a bench and have hundreds of people swarm past you like busy bee’s and still be invisible and observe a strangers exterior problems for a minute or so. Of course we are never going to know the full story. I guess that’s what makes it fun. I have the pleasure to view someone else but they have the pleasure to be anonymous amongst everyone. Photography is my outlet for this passion of wanting to know more about my surroundings and the people who occupy it. No matter how beautiful or ugly. Happy or sad. Tragic or amazing. All moments are precious. They are all distinct and beautiful in their own ways. My photography is a way for you to be that observer and watch through my eyes and be anonymous.

We all see with 8 Minute Old Light