(1998)
Peter’s apartment, Philadelphia
2 responses to “Peter’s apartment, Philadelphia”
Beautiful shot. The rainy-day melancholy contrasts perfectly with the epic festivities of the era. The boys had it good, indeed.
I still have that picture frame that’s barely visible on the radiator cabinet to the left, and it still contains the same photograph, of my father alone atop a cliff. His body is taught, his arm outstretched as he throws a handful of his father’s ashes toward the ocean below. The dusty cloud hovers in the air before him, like a conjured spirit.
Another thing that has survived the intervening decades is our precious friendship. At times battered, at others neglected, yet the roots grow ever deeper. “Fluctuat nec mergitur.”
Merry Christmas, brother.
Great shot. Fond memories. I can smell the Yuengling and smoke, the musty window ledge…and hear the laughter and car and street noises below. Nice reminder of good years past, unlike 2020. Enjoying the pic/blog a lot.
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