Kevin Carrel Footer

Category: Little Epiphanies

  • Let the Magic Begin Again

    Let the Magic Begin Again

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    [et_pb_section bb_built=”1″ admin_label=”section”][et_pb_row admin_label=”row” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” background_size=”initial”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_image src=”https://www.kevincarrelfooter.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/MOVEDIZOS-8694-copy-2.jpg” use_border_color=”off” animation_style=”slide” animation_duration=”500ms” animation_intensity_slide=”10%” animation_direction=”left” _builder_version=”3.5.1″ /][et_pb_text background_layout=”light” text_orientation=”left” use_border_color=”off” border_color=”#ffffff” border_style=”solid” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” background_size=”initial” _builder_version=”3.5.1″] It is Carnaval and out from the neighborhoods of Buenos Aires stream broken-down buses carrying murga troupes to outdoor stages around the city. The murgueros criss-cross the city during the…

  • The Tango Singer on the Sidewalk

    The Tango Singer on the Sidewalk

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    [et_pb_section admin_label=”section”][et_pb_row admin_label=”row”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_image admin_label=”Image” src=”https://www.kevincarrelfooter.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/MILONGA-CARNAVAL-8061-3.jpg” show_in_lightbox=”off” url_new_window=”off” use_overlay=”off” animation=”left” sticky=”off” align=”left” force_fullwidth=”off” always_center_on_mobile=”on” use_border_color=”off” border_color=”#ffffff” border_style=”solid”] [/et_pb_image][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text” background_layout=”light” text_orientation=”center” use_border_color=”off” border_color=”#ffffff” border_style=”solid” text_font=”||on||”] Cucuza Castiello singing with El Cachivache Quinteto during Carnaval. Feb 2017 [/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider admin_label=”Divider” color=”#000000″ show_divider=”off” divider_style=”solid” divider_position=”top” hide_on_mobile=”on” height=”10″] [/et_pb_divider][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text” background_layout=”light” text_orientation=”left” use_border_color=”off” border_color=”#ffffff” border_style=”solid” text_font_size=”16″] [dropcap]W[/dropcap]ithin tango there…

  • Like Swimming Through Night and Day

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    The pool where we swam belonged to Camille Durney, an older woman who lived with her ex-husband. The story was that they had once been married, he had left and years later, long after the divorce, he had asked to come back. And she had acquiesced. He was a sour sort and people often wondered…

  • The Man Who Bought Me Records

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    The albums that I listened to in the night had come to me from Bill Bartley, a grammar school teacher who had taken a special interest in my education. I was in his class when I was ten years old but our friendship continued for years after that. I began by helping him with yard…

  • Debussy Saves the Night

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    (an excerpt from “Count None But Sunny Hours”) School dances were torture for someone like me who had a vivid imagination and the desire to punch above his weight. From all the books I had read, I aspired to be a dashing – or at least tortured – person. However, the reality of suburban 20th…

  • Dennis Goes to the Moon

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    by Kevin Carrel Footer Dennis is going to the moon. He asked me if I wanted to come along and though I have signed up for most of his adventures, I’m sitting this one out. He’s got the crash helmet and the air supply ready. He is still working on propulsion but assures me he…

  • The Chapel in the Signal Box

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    I chanced upon this signal box behind a truckstop in Kingman, Arizona where we spent the night. I woke early and walked between the trucks as the sun came up over the desert. Truckers in overalls emerged groggy from their cabs, each carrying a wide-mouth thermos waiting to be filled with the steaming coffee of…

  • Beyond the West

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    After the West begins the Beyond, a place of inscrutable intentions and cross-purposes that blow you off-course like the gusts over Altamont Pass, where contraptions of precarious beauty born of human hubris float like effigies on the once-pristine hills now stained in the blood of a generation’s lost dreams. Meanwhile, in the Sierras, giant trees…

  • Truckstops of the Sublime

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    There are truckstops of such sublime, searing beauty. I took this picture from a patch of dirt off to the side. This is the overflow lot where a few diesel trucks had parked to get their statutory rest, away from the noise of the semis downshifting from freeway speed and kids spewing from family vacation…