pirates for cripples.
I met Ash in a crosswalk outside my apartment almost three years ago to the day. At the time she was living across the street from me, had blunt bangs, red hair and stopped me dead in my tracks. I was working on the Sex and The City Movie that autumn and she had just moved back to NYC. At the time, she was just one of those people you meet, want to have high hopes for, but never REALLY think will hang around.
three years later, she’s one of my closest friends, one of the best friends I have ever had and positively at the top of the list of creative partnerships I could ever dream to make. Sometimes, you bump into some stranger and things just work out. Or maybe Im just blessed, or both.
Our friendship has been born of fish right from the start. Barring one time my mom cooked us chickens when we were out shooting at my parents house, we recently concluded every single meal we’ve eaten together over the last three years has been fish. righteous.
Two weeks ago, we met up for our weekly sushi obsession, I had a long week on the TV show I currently work(ed) on and after dinner she went out to meet some friends and I got on my bike desperate for some exercise. Shortly thereafter, I got into an accident, broke my shoulder and a phone call later the pirate is at my house changing the ice packs under my shirt and making fun of me for crying like a girl at four in the morning on a Saturday night. You couldnt possibly ask for a better friend and I never could have imagined one.
I cant really move my arm too much, so shooting film (or more succinctly, developing it) has been the last thing on my mind. Our relationship more or less revolves around hanging out and taking photos and since the accident we hadnt shot anything, I hadnt left the house and everything was all fucked up. I was jonesing to get some kind of normalcy back into my life, she had been shopping for me since I couldnt really move too well and the next thing you know, her night off turned into dinner party madness and it was the perfect excuse to try to see if I could one hand a rangefinder. I always need an excuse to use the wholly detestable M8 I got a few months ago and this was the perfect occasion. The camera really is the most frustrating, fucked up and infinitely awful thing to use in practice, but the video images it produces are kinda cool in its own video way so there ya go. Im crippled right now, so consider that as my excuse for using the damn thig.
I had hoped to go out to this cajun place we like but leaving the house was fully out of the question, so the evening quickly turned into things to do with a catfish at home. Aside from being the coolest chic on earth, Ash is a born again motherfucker in the kicthen: bitch can cook.
Discussion about rice turned to potatoes, indecision about shrimp or fish led to lets do both and we invented, by proxy of my limited cooking tools, a casserole with au gratin potato base, supporting fried catfish topped with mushrooms and steamed shrimp with a generous helping of onions and peppers. All this thickened with a heavy cream and butter base baked to silly perfection. Can you say insane? no, really.
We’ve cooked countless times over the years and honestly, this meal was worth breaking my shoulder to eat. It was. We made the total food orgasm. And I dont even really liked cooked fish… Foods.
There is nothing quite like an injury to inspire pause and introspection. Im super lucky and fully grateful to have someone this awesome as a permanent part of the circus.
thanks for the goodness Jones.