The Blurry Photo of J

Call me old-fashioned, but I was convinced that she would be the first to crack. Blokes like myself believe women are the sentimental creatures, so I was surprised that, on my arrival at LAX, the first text I received from her read simply, “Going camping with my son for two days.”

Camping in NZ also means “non internet access,” so this also meant that our communication channels were down. So, on this historic day when President Obama was sworn in as President, barriers fell throughout the land. We now have our first two-term African-American President. Gay rights were mentioned in an inaugural speech. And — for the first time ever, smashing centuries of gender roles — a man cracked first, turning to his blog, sentimentality in his heart, while the woman went camping in the wild, a pocketknife in her purse. Who’s the weaker sex? My heart sinks faster than that US Navy landing craft that was swamped by a wave near Paekakariki, NZ ’s during that infamous tragedy in June 1943.

J and I first went camping after Christmas. Her son stayed with his father. I had not gone camping since I was twelve years old. As an adult, I found it fun, but exhausting. One of my Facebook friends touted camping as “sexy.” Uh, no. But if you get your kicks sleeping in cramped tents without bathrooms, who am I to question your alternative lifestyle?

I’m surprised that I enjoyed it as much as I did. The scenery certainly helped. It was amazing to wake up in the morning and look at greenery so lush you felt like you just rented a room in the Hobbit’s Shire.

Still, after a week sleeping on an air mattress, I suggested (well, insisted) that we spend two nights in a motel in Napier, a Hawkes’ Bay town famous for its art deco architecture.

Our room in Napier — at the appropriately named Art Deco Motel — was nothing fancy; it was a motel room that looked out into a parking lot. But after a week camping, it felt like the Four Seasons. We each took a long hot shower. It was the best shower of my life. J prepared lunch in the motel kitchenette, using leftovers in the cooler or the “chilly bin” as called by the Kiwis. J was wearing a towel from the bathroom, but as she fried up some eggs, the white cotton towel slipped off, sliding to the carpeted floor.

I took a photo of her with my iPhone.

In the photo, J was in the shadows, the light in the background flowing in from the large window leading to the patio. I fiddled around with some apps on my iphone until the subject was anonymous. I created a blurry photo of a naked, curvy, beautiful woman standing in front of a burst of light.

“Can I put this on Instagram?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said. “It’s your artwork.”

Wow. My artwork?! How can you not fall for a woman who considers your dopey and salacious photo of her losing her towel while frying some eggs as “artwork?”

The next day, she changed my mind.

“I forgot about my mother.” she said. She’s looking at your instagram feed.”

It’s a fine line between sharing and keeping things private.

“Can you take it down before she sees it?” she asked.

I deleted it from Instagram. And Flickr. And Facebook.

I’m in Los Angeles now. For now. It’s too bad that I can’t reach J. I want to tell her about my night in Melbourne, Australia. I met two Aussie bloggers and we went to a famous local restaurant.

Melbourne is a world-class city with culture and excitement. There are hipsters drinking coffee in converted warehouse districts. The Kapiti Coast of New Zealand — where J lives — is sleepyville. Bars close early. Local excitement is a sheep shearing and bringing home some fish and chips. But never have I seen so much greenery. And as a Pisces, I am drawn to the oceans and rivers and lakes. And then, there is J herself. She is in New Zealand.

I slide my finger along the screen of my iphone, touching the blurred photo of J. The one from the motel. The one that I deleted. It is a tame photo. J is shadowy and heavily filtered. But I understand why she asked me to delete it from public view. I know and adore every curve of her body, even in the dark. And that is very obvious to anyone looking at this blurry photo, despite my attempts to hide it.

This entry was posted in Life in General, Men and Women and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

44 Responses to The Blurry Photo of J

  1. Alison says:

    Ahhhh, Neil, that was lovely.

  2. Jen says:

    That was lovely. I have been thinking a lot recently about what I want out there in the world through technology. It’s so easy to let those lines blur between public and private to the point where you wake up one morning and realize you’ve shared a piece of yourself that you weren’t sure you even wanted to see yourself.
    Jen posted Putting Facebook In A Box

  3. Momo says:

    Photo, or not, we see her beauty through your eyes.
    Momo posted Giving Double-Dribble a Whole New Meaning

  4. Bon says:

    it IS obvious. and intimate. and a privilege to see.
    Bon posted Education for a Digital Age?

  5. Dana says:

    Nice. Very, very nice.
    Dana posted Obama’s Second, My Fourth

  6. kenju says:

    I hope that somewhere, sometime in my life, a man felt that way about me.
    kenju posted To Sleep, Perchance to Dream….

  7. Jana says:

    I’m out of words to explain my love of your story. All I can do is heave a heavy sigh and send out my message to the universe/god/etc that y’all need to be together.
    Jana posted Emergency on the Race Course

  8. Marinka says:

    This is the best thing you’ve ever written, Neil. Not that I read a lot of your stuff, but still.
    Marinka posted Inaugurate This!

  9. Miss Britt says:

    Its just as obvious in the photos of her face. Beautiful.
    Miss Britt posted Perfect Birthday Presents

  10. *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*
    Shannon akaMonty posted Two things.

  11. mp says:

    I love you being in love. Your writing and photos shine brighter and your happiness is contagious.

  12. marty says:

    You said so much with your pictures. Juli is right. It is art. I just wanted to say thank you for sharing it and sharing yourself.
    marty posted WHAM. Done.

  13. gorillabuns says:

    The photo is beautiful. Just like your expression of your love.
    gorillabuns posted hiding

  14. Whenever I see blurry pictures, I want to call the Ghostbusters!
    Father Muskrat posted good timing man

  15. Pearl says:

    Neil, your trip abroad was a discovery of sorts for you, for Juli, and for your readers. Thank you for sharing all of it (or lots of it, at least) with us. You could have kept it all under wraps, but you didn’t. We admired the photos, took interest in the stories, and sighed at the thought of two people discovering one another.
    Wherever this ride ultimately takes you is perhaps yet unknown, but in the meantime, thanks for letting us sit in the passenger seat.
    Pearl posted Yay! Published!

  16. Looks like your adventure may well turn into your life.
    Always Home and Uncool posted Input Data, Output AAAAUGH!

  17. Mariya says:

    Gorgeous.

  18. Alexandra says:

    Waaah. Eyes blurry with the loveliness of this.

    What a gift to Juli, to have her feeling so loved and cherished and beautiful.

    What a gift.

    You are a gem, Neil.
    Alexandra posted What? You Don’t Google “Large Black Mole” at 3 a.m.?

  19. I hope with all my hopes, you get to see those curves again soon, in person. Such a beautiful story Neil. Thanks for sharing it with us.
    Redneck Mommy posted Test Anxiety

  20. Allison Zapata says:

    Love this so much.

  21. Megan says:

    I am squeeing for you, darling. She is lovely, and this is lovely. Would have loved to have seen the photo because the others you took of her were amazing. Nevertheless, I’m glad you have it for you.
    Megan posted Steak & Cheese

  22. sizzle says:

    It must be hard to be back in LA after all that beauty. Thinking of you, my friend.

  23. Shannon says:

    *sniffle* I admire your courage, Neil. This is the real deal, raw and unfiltered. No matter what happens, no one can take this experience away from you. It’s yours forever–a blessing of light and love.

  24. Shauna says:

    You are an amazing story teller. And quite the romantic. So happy you’re happy, Neil.
    Shauna posted S’More Crafts Just In Time For Valentine’s Day

  25. 180360 says:

    I’ve missed your writing, Neil! I am sorry that I didn’t see the photo when it was posted but I can totally imagine it.
    180360 posted LESS IS MORE

  26. Ann says:

    Your last line made me tear-up. I’m thankful for the happiness and hopefulness you’re shining on Internetlandia.

  27. Lovely story with such a bittersweet ending. I’m glad you have someone who honors your art in so many ways. Good luck on the re-entry. I know what *that* is like and I don’t envy you the next few weeks.
    sarah gilbert posted A BOOK. lost and found at home: a parent’s journey in emotional childhood

  28. summer says:

    I love this. That there will be a photographic record of this love affair is so great. You’ll be so happy to have this record, and she will too. Seeing someone’s love for another person in photos- so gratifying.
    summer posted Buy a Better Brain? Maybe.

  29. Lisa says:

    So lovely, Neil.

  30. It was an amazing photo…made even better by this writing.
    Rachel (sesame ellis) posted Contemplating style. :: Project Life 365

  31. I have loved following along on this journey…more please.

  32. Kim says:

    I shivered reading that last paragraph. I am grateful that you shared so much of this–and yes, yes, it is absolutely art.
    Kim posted chrysalis

  33. annieh says:

    You’re a good man, Neilochka.
    annieh posted The Physics of the Known World

  34. Neil, you write so beautifully. Your sentimental heart is your greatest asset.

  35. Marcy says:

    I will say this– people have different ways of “cracking.” Is her camping in the wild her personal equivalent to a man turning to his blog?

    (hooked to how this story unfolds, just as everyone else)

  36. Issa says:

    This reached into my cold, long-abandoned heart and made it quicken. That you were able to find something so beautiful again… That I should one day, perhaps, again be loved like this… Thank you for sharing this, Neil.

  37. This is beautiful writing.
    Lily from It’s A Dome Life posted I Make Silly Things Like Unidogs And Caticorns

  38. suzy says:

    I can’t add anything original because I agree with every single comment made here. Oh wait, here’s something no one’s mentioned: CAMPING FOR A WEEK ARE YOU INSANE?
    suzy posted 32 Things To Do After Your Book Is Published

  39. Emma says:

    Lovely. Sigh.
    Emma posted Ever bold

  40. Liz says:

    I love this post, Neil. Your words are like being wrapped by a warm and fuzzy blanket, on a bone-chillingly frigid night. Thank you.
    Liz posted A Girls Night, Inside Out!

  41. Nanna says:

    Ahhhhh. that’s the most eloquent response I have.
    Nanna posted The Fog Is Starting to Clear

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