Author: Krista Lyn White
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Hemingway’s Epigram
A big man named Hubert, a jazz singer, a skydiver, and a wife with a leopard print purse. It wasn’t a joke. The evening felt like something from a Hemingway novel. The Sun Also Rises, perhaps. But we weren’t in Paris. We were in Chartres. And it was 2020, not 1920. My point? Read Hemingway’s…
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Paris in One Word
How do you explain this? How did I get to Paris in the middle of this apparent darkness? One word: God.
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La récolte
La récolte. Do we photograph best what we love the most? Or perhaps the question should be, does an artist ever tire of trying to capture that place which they know will one day be—a place which no eye can behold and no pen can adequately describe? [Photo taken in a friend’s garage, France, 2018]
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Great-Great-Grandma Oyateotawi
Pictured here is my great-great-grandma Oyateotawi. Her name means “Girl of Many Peoples.” Native American genealogy is not easy to trace (they didn’t keep written records), but from what I can find, Oyateotawi is closely related to chiefs Little Crow and Big Thunder. How she ended up at the frontier fort in what is now…
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The Devil is in the details
The Devil is in the details? A Caravaggisti like Jusepe de Ribera might say so. So might a lot of others.
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Quelle couleur
Quelle couleur est produite en mélangeant le rouge, le vert et le bleu ? Well, ça dépend. Voici la couleur sous / cachée par les autres. The photo was sent to me by my dear friend Monica Lopes this morning with a word: Gather the paints while they are available, especially Azure. The time for…