Monday, December 27, 2010

Still hitting the bottle

Bright spirits
Laval, QC, November 2010
About this photo: This is one of my favorite photos of the year. Head here to share yours as part of Thematic Photographic's year-end extravaganza.
I wrote about this blue bottle of booze the other day. This is my other favorite bottle from that collection. It's too pretty to open up, too pretty to drink, too pretty do do much more than stick it in a sunlit spot and drink in the reflected light.

Does it make sense that I keep shooting hooch in bright sunshine? Probably not. But as I wiped the dust and fingerprints off the bottle and prepared it for its mini photo session on my mother's dining room table, I wasn't overly concerned about whether it made sense or not. Like the now-famous-to-me blue bottle, this one was also a silent basement sentinel while I was growing up. It sat on a shelf, nearly forgotten, ever since I could remember.

Indeed, that was the neat thing about all of my father's bottles: I don't remember him bringing any of them home. From my perspective, they were always there, fixtures that simply never changed. Which was a good thing for a kid like me who had always craved stability. Knowing that something had always been and would always be was something I held onto. In my naive, child's mind, stores didn't go bankrupt, couples didn't divorce, boo-boos always healed and nobody died.

We all know how the world really works, of course. Indeed, I was here in the first place on this brilliantly sunny afternoon because everything had changed. And those childhood assumptions no longer applied. But watching the brightly reflected color on the table, I felt that at least one touchstone from long ago was still very much the same. Only better, because it was no longer dusty, no longer sitting on a basement shelf.

Your turn: Do you have a memory of childhood that brings you comfort today?


Kalei's Best Friend said...

First of all, that bottle is gorgeous!... As far as an object triggering my memory, I have several but I remember the Coty loose powder.. My grandma used it and when she had it on she smelled like warm baked bread..not the yeast smell but the warm smell from something sweet baking.. sounds crazy huh? On the other hand what I use to love was when my parents would light up their cigarette and the sulfur smell of the match and the first light of their cigarette ..Aww the fresh first hit off of a cigarette... lol

Karen S. said...

You may think this crazy, but there are so many everyday scents that ever so often will bring loved ones to mind....(mostly my grandmother) and each time I smell them, I'll linger a bit in memory, sometimes I'll catch myself saying something besides thinking it....I treasure those moments, and thankfully those scents so far haven't brought sad things to mind...except for one, the real orginal Lysol scent always brings my sister's funeral back.

Levonne said...

Being sick one night when I was about seven and standing on the front porch throwing up over the side as my mother waited patiently.

Dawn said...

Beautiful shot! (And like the title of the post too:)
Memories...funny things they are.
I have beautiful and some not so grand. The beautiful shine and reflect brighter because of the not so grand.
Thanks for this post....made me smile. And think.

Ankita (Gg) said...

I didn't get to read the blue bottle because of a bad net, now I read it, and both are fabulous.
I still somewhat qualify as a child (minor atleast, I'm 14) so I can't give you childhood memories. :D

Anonymous said...

Amber light + cut glass = beautiful!

I can't say I loved the smell, but the scent of Vick's Vapor Rub brings back the memory of being cared for by a parent.

Grubenschnitzel said...