Bertha.

For as snarky and cynical as i can revert to at times, its really a big crock of bullshit. Something really hit me yesterday when i was photographing that old woman and her dog. Meeting her was far more important than pillaging any nifty antique glassware from an abandoned laboratory. Her name was Bertha, and her dog was Rusty. Neither of them were in the best of shape. Bertha couldn't read, whether she didn't know how to read or her eyes were too bad, i don't know. She could read the numbers but not the words. Regardless, she pulled an envelope out from under her shirt that she had clutched to her chest and asked me if i could take a look at it. She had about fifty dollars in the envelope as well, for some reason she trusted the little girl dressed as a boy holding a camera with all the money to her name.

She asked if it was a bill or a check, if she owed $33.74 and $23.65 or was being given that amount. I was happy to reply to her that they were in fact a month's worth of Social Security checks. She was thrilled - shreiking, hooting exclaiming like she had just won the lottery. Positively thrilled over having $57.39. ... What do you say to that?

Yesterday i painted a different portrait of Bertha, and in hindsight one i'm not proud of. Its an old way of processing things, difficult things I can't exactly wrap my head around. I portrayed her like another street crazy. Bertha was anyone's great grandmother. I hope i see her again. She just wanted someone to talk to.

On a related note, a bit of a different perspective on all things lost (souls, not buildings) in Detroit - photographer Ryan Keberly runs The Snowsuit Effort. Updated Monday through Friday, it is an extensive project documenting many of Detroit's homeless. Beautiful and sobering.


<sub>"I was in an abandoned building, scrapping for aluminum, and the window I was trying to remove shattered. The glass landed in my eye."

Dewayne lives on the streets of Detroit.</sub>

the debauchery has been great, but its time to do something more.