It was late when I left for home cause I went to photograph the girl’s softball game and
because the Bigelow Blvd. ramp was closed, I had to follow a lengthy detour.
I found myself in bumper to bumper traffic at a standstill on one of the most awful roads- Route 28. It is ALWAYS under construction.
And there I saw this abandoned boat along the busy highway.
It took my mind of my impatience at not being home yet, having to wait.
I wondered how it got there. To whom did it belong?
It’s like being in a coffee shop and suddenly understanding why someone writing a screenplay is sitting there, working. A snippet of conversation overheard. You write a script. You get ideas.
I heard the guy say to the woman at the next table, “You have a certain lyrical unexpectedness.” (inaudible response from her) Him again, ” I played in a bar last night.”
So what’s the story of the boat? And the next scene just a few feet later, a few more car lengths down?
or the next scene when the traffic stopped again. These scenes just make you wonder.
Or if I hadn’t been stopped, would I have seen them?
