From Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist
Life has hit me with some new low
blows lately, and I expect them to continue to menace until I get beyond them—and
then on to another round. That’s the way the day to day unfolds here in this
particular confluence of protoplasm known as Linda Lee Greene. During times
like these, I turn to certain practices that help me through. I meditate; I
read inspirational material; I write; I storytell to my immediate loved-ones
through a long texting thread; I paw through old photographs and relive the
moments they bring to mind, an exercise in which I lose my present self in the
past for a while and that rewards me with momentary amnesia of my current
stresses.
I took on the mantle as my birth family’s official
photographer at the tender age of six, my mother’s little Brownie camera wound with
black and white film incessantly in my grubby hands. I had the natural eye and
ear for a good photograph. It was the precursor of my inborn talents as an
artist and a writing storyteller that blossomed pretty much concurrently with
my penchant for the camera. Such is the story behind my featured photo of my
sister Sherri.
You
will notice that the date of the photo is Oct. 1956. To be precise, I took the
photo on the day of that month and in that year that was the occasion of Sherri’s
third birthday. I had turned thirteen two months before. The location was the
backyard of our home at 507 W. Second Avenue, Columbus, Ohio, an old
multi-storied Victorian that I think of and dream about as home to this day,
even though I haven’t lived there for sixty-five years.
That
backyard was an ideal setting for great photographs. It was lush with green grass,
flowering bushes, and leafy trees—an ancient cherry tree whose many and strong branches
provided years of fun summer afternoons of climbing was a favorite of the
neighborhood kids. An arbor of sweet green grapes draped the walkway that began
at the foot of the back porch and led to the garage and doglegged to a gate
that opened onto the alley. Tucked in one side of the arbor was a bench, a
two-seater that was both private and romantic among the copious grapevines. I
posed Sherri on the bench and snapped a picture. Next I dragged an old chair
from the porch to the yard, lifted Sherri up to it, and instructed her to stand
straight and smile.
Sherri
had her own ideas about how our photoshoot should be conducted. She didn’t like
posing upright on the chair and gave me her famous “look of disapproval”, her
arms bent and fists coiling in ready to fight. I got the shot just in time and
memorialized it in my photo of her on her third birthday. Sherri
hasn’t changed one whit since then. She still has her own ideas about things
and isn’t shy about having them known. She might be my favorite person in the
world while at the same time remaining my competitor. My little secret is that it
doesn’t matter to me which of us wins. All that matters to me is that Sherri is
my sister, and I count my lucky stars for it every single day.
My
wish is that you and yours have a lovely Thanksgiving. I know I will, in large
part because my sister Sherri will be with me at our table this year, and God
willing, for many years to come.©
#Sisters, #Thanksgiving, #VictorianHouses, #ColumbusOhio, #LindaLeeGreene, #AuthorArtist
