In our childhoods a generation apart you and I both rode on the carefully renovated and historically registered Dentzel carousel, pictured here seasonally shuttered in Glen Echo Park, which contains elements of the original park, some working some in disrepair, under the bright deco signs announcing ballroom and arcade and bubble up, while J takes jazz piano in a space within the arcade, beyond the old shooting gallery where I fired real 22s.
To me this space (and let's not even think about the yurts with their hippie crafts, the Saturday night swing dances, or the water running swiftly from River Rd. to river with force to worry Clara Barton's brow) brings together the real, the hyper-real, the simulacrum, the present, and many pasts together in a wormhole of sorts, the spirits of frozen yet whirling animals under layers of paint and preservative, bringing joy and nostalgia in season.
1 comment:
beautiful
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