Updated: Aug 12, 2019
The last five years have been a ride... a ride in a Jeep, a blue Jeep named Bleep. The exotic places it got me made for great stories, but generally the stories were about how I and the model survived it breaking down, or some Jeep related mechanical error or quirk... like the illustrious death wobble. It has been 10 months since that ride's life was ended by a Ford Focus that drifted into my lane on CA-SR 74 and flipped me. The car I could afford to raplace it with, after paying back my boss for getting me the Bleep, was this little Toyota Yaris, partially because I demanded that my car have a sense of humor, referring to it as a tampon. I hate the color. I hate the automatic transmission. I hate the interest rate. Pretty much everything about this car I hate. But, I love that I may be one of the few souls on the planet who purchaced a Toyota "Yaris" because its name is derived from the Greek, Charis, which was the name of Weston's muse, a la Wilson. I imagine most who drive a Toyota Yaris have no idea who Edward Weston was, or understand his contribution to photography, much less the connection between his story and my own. The adventures have been a lot less... adventurous... but the story remains beautiful in my little mind.