Ekphrasis
"Fleeing into fretted sun, he has his reasons. Decoyed and hawked, he fights his battles with moon on his curls." - "Thunder Road," Elizabeth Willis
Look: I love blogging. I love writing—taking an assignment seriously, having editors, being part of a collective whether in the form of a literary journal or internet magazine or even on staff at a company. Blogging is different. Each week, I run screaming in here blindfolded, and my only goal is entertainment. Don’t get me wrong, I take this column seriously—you fools are letting me into your email inbox, a place where the ideal number of things is “nothing”—but it’s just supposed to be entertaining. This blog isn’t Sam Smith on the Bulls beat, it’s Dave Barry going “hey ain’t the Weinermobile weird?”
If I may complain about this cushy position I’ve created for myself (which does not pay), it’s hard to think of a topic every week. Every goddamn week I’m supposed to have original thoughts? Next you’re going to tell me I have to figure out what to eat for dinner every day for the rest of my life until I die. Sounds exhausting.
The problem is this blog needs a cheat code. Something to fall back on when the ideas are thin. If New York media sees traffic flailing, they run a “This 30-Year-Old Paid Off Her Student Debts By Skipping Coffee” piece and bury the “the author’s parents let them live at home rent-free until they were 29” part at the end, then let the hate-clicks flow. NBA writers have a number of calendar gimmicks built in—quarter-season mark, trade deadline predictions/reactions, awards season debates—so much so that your schedule is basically the same every year.
It’s content that writes itself, and this blog doesn’t have that. With this goal in mind (the goal of rewarding laziness), may I present the first installment of Ekphrasis. In this column, and more to come, I will type prompts into Wikimedia Commons. Things I like. Then I’ll write a paragraph based on an image. Not the first image, not the most representative image, just an image that’s striking. Easy enough. Now, what things do I like?
Tacos
Oh boy do I love tacos. Barbacoa is great, one of the better things to do with beef or lamb, but this is a close cousin to my favorite taco: the lengua taco. Oh boy oh boy do I love some cow tongue. Got a great chew. A flavor that’s not too overpowering so it can let a good salsa or tortilla shine, too. Cilantro, onions, salsa verde? Give it to me. At least two, and preferably while I am walking down a city street.
The Sea
It’s interesting to me that one of the main creation myths in the Bible has God pulling the waters back. Dividing water from land. Gen 1:2 says “Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters,” which, gee, wonder why cosmic horror exists. The earth was “formless,” but there was also “darkness over the surface of the deep,” and God was also also “hovering over the waters.” How many voids we talking here, Genesis? Gen 1:6 goes on: “let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.” That’s not even land, that’s God creating the sky. Anyway, sometimes I wonder what the first person to see the sea thought and felt. Here’s water that is impossible to cross. Here beyond is the void. Man. Shoutout to Polynesian navigators, man. You know they got to Antarctica first?
Basketball
“Basketball courts around the world” is such a wonderful genre of photo. Leigh Ellis does it a lot, obviously. Worldwide Wob does it some, and I found this awesome collection from Alexis Morgan looking for Wob’s. Maybe it’s because I spent so many hours shooting in my driveway after school, maybe it’s my love of the sport, but an outdoor basketball court always feels like such an inviting space. Here is a place carved out purely for fun, for athletic expression. Except for courts without rims or otherwise neglected, that’s purely depressing. Shades of Lori Lightfoot taking the rims off the courts during the summer of 2020. But a halfway-playable court? Oh yeah, that’s the stuff. Need an urbs in horto equivalent for a court carved into a city.
Guitars
I was looking for one of two things when I typed this in: either a really cool shot of a Fender Jazzmaster being played by someone cool, or a cool painting. Cool painting wins! Guitars look short in the 1600s. Unsettling body/neck length ratio. I wonder what it’s tuned to. I was embarrassingly old when I learned mariachi instruments aren’t typically tuned the same way as guitars. Always figured if need be, I could moonlight for a mariachi band, read some charts, you know. Not the case! Shoutout to the overturned hourglass and the lovely flowers in this painting.
Books
This column could only end on book porn. When I said “basketball courts are paradise” earlier? Every library everywhere all at once cried out “you moron, how could you do this to us?” Paradise comes in many forms. Let’s go read a book.
Sorry you got an email,
Chris
