Christina Mallet Photography » Fine Art and Portrait Photographer, Cape Town, South Africa

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The ‘Island’

I grew up in Redmond, back when Redmond was rural and Microsoft had only two employees, Steve & Bill.

None of my people, myself included, live there anymore, instead almost 75% of them have become Islanders, Bainbridge Islanders.

See what happened was this: My parents believed Bainbridge Island was the retirement ‘place to be’.

They are ‘being’ there and this is hide chapping.

Chap has turned to tarnish, burn, corrode, etc, because my oldest sister was convinced, when moving back to ‘Seattle’ after being in CA for 20 years, that Island life was Island style. And, so now she’s there too.

Bainbridge was voted one of the nicest places in the universe to live, by Stuff White People Like.

I suppose it’s nice enough for certain people, but there are parts to Bainbridge life that are deal breakers for we Mallets.

These deal-breakers are why our Kennedy Compound lifestyle will never come to fruition.

Let me first point out some important Island facts:

Islands are for real, they aren’t messing around. Fact: Islands are surrounded by water.

Islands have ferry boats.

Ferry boats of the 1800s, where you just showed up and someone was waiting to take you across like in any period movie from that ere, no longer exist.

Modern Ferry boat systems operate on schedules.

Getting to an island means your life is divided up into units of time concurrent with each sailing time.

If you work off the island, or go forbid have family not on the island, your life must revolve around the ferry schedule.

Amphibious cars will likely not be replacing the Prius, anytime soon.

If you are prone to being late, you will miss scheduled ferry sailings, which will mean that your era of being 5, 10 or 15 mins late will now be more like at 45-90 minutes late.

If you miss a ferry and you have children with you, you must heavily drug them so that you can endure required stalling for time until the next ferry arrives.

Islands can be culturally, racially, or even socio-economically un-diverse.

If your husband is brown, he might feel like he’s a rare treat in this Obama era.

Island life can be like stepping back in time. A time when ‘Main Street’ was cute and slow moving and everyone is waving or smiling.

Islands attract tourists and tourists like to spend money of useless crap. This propels and unique brand of local economy that I like to call ‘fcking nick-nack-ery economy’.

There will be shop after shop of carefully curated and artisanal sowed/sewed sundries, on shelves accented with twigs and birds nests.

There will be many examples of ‘one-of-a-kind- and-each-one-is-perfect-in-its-imperfection-and-is-therefore-so-very-unique’ which can take the form of just about anything, as long as it’s in a store with awesome font signage and the cloing waft of organic French lavender candles.

But, all of this aside, my kidlets love their grandparents, and so we make the hellish trek like any person suffering from first-world problems.

Here are some photos I took at a beach we happened upon a couple of weeks back.

I’ll have you know that these locally sourced images were carefully composed by moi. They were also developed by hand and lovingly scanned, by me.

Back to the beach below: Here are some photos of my parents, Helena and my dad’s friend Ed.

Interesting and disgusting aside: We later found out that that sewage drains very near to this beach.

Witness the bliss of sewage draining ignorance.

The End.

Contax 645 // TriX 400 // Dev & Scan by Yours Truly



  • September 18, 2013 - 6:32 am

    Bob Mullins - Nice job, Christina! Especially like the first shot of folks on the log!ReplyCancel

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