Our love marksThings we do as a couple... tend to complement each other – I like to cook, and Alek likes to eat my food; Alek likes to go sailing – and I love to sun bathe on the deck of the boat. Maybe all couples fall into roles, but ours seem to be unmistakable and defining. So, when we get lost in the narrow streets of a medieval town, Alek will remember if the street was sloping up, if the sun was visible through the narrow spaces between the buildings, and the socio-economic implications of neighborhood design on the society that lived there five hundred years ago. I, on the other hand, would have picked up no less useful, but vastly different information, like the smell of food coming from the second-story window, the color of the cat that crossed the road or a nostalgic pattern on the dress hanging from the clothesline. Eventually, Alek will ask for directions, I will look at the map, and we would be… lost again. This time we are in front of an archway leading into a deserted garden. It seems welcoming. We decide to linger. Alek gets out his camera, sets it to the pinhole mode and begins to snap. I, never to shy in front of a camera, pretend not to notice and play along.
We met...while shopping for New Year’s presents on Christmas sale in San Francisco… Perhaps this requires an explanation - we don’t celebrate Christmas, but like all immigrants from the former Soviet Union, we have a strong tradition of celebrating the New Year, which to an uninitiated observer can look awfully like Christmas… at least the presents-under-the-tree part. When we met, there probably wasn’t a single thing we had in common. Alek was a nerdy kid, wise beyond his years, with thick-framed glasses (way before thick-framed glasses became all the rage) and a substantial Jew-fro. I was a teen glamor junkie, dressed beyond my years and hiding behind a protective layer of make-up. I didn’t think it would go anywhere, but Alek was wiser then to let me make that decision. Hey, may be behind our armors we weren’t that different after all!
Tanya is... fun, adventurous, independent, kind, demanding and understanding – all rolled into one. And she is not a prima donna – that’s my role! What always amazes me, and what I am always drawn to is Tanya’s willingness to try new things, go out on a limb, take a risk (I only hope its calculated) - that makes our life so much more exciting! We get to meet new people, try out new ideas, dance to new beats, and go to new (for me) festivals in the desert. Above all, we never stop exploring! I also love how independent Tanya is – perhaps she couldn’t be so adventurous without being a bit independent as well. I love that she puts up a fight every time she disagrees with what I have to say, and that happens quite often. This independence (which certainly took time to get used to), makes everything more fun: we debate incessantly; we debate everything, from what and where to eat and where to go on vacation to politics, culture, business models, the right way to live ... ahem, I mean the right island to live on. Tanya is also kind and forgiving. For example, she will forgive the comment about business models – she doesn’t really care much about those! Do I need to mention how much I love the food, the attention, the willingness to entertain my crazy ideas?
Alek proposed...It was a dark and stormy night.
Our sailboat TA-NA-NA, moored of the coast of the Cooper Island, was swaying recklessly in the waves of the Caribbean Sea. Earlier in the evening, foreseeing what might be ahead, Alek took the dinghy to shore to stock up on food for dinner. The island next to which we moored had only a restaurant, so he asked the kitchen for a couple of raw steaks and some salt. Eating in the restaurant that evening would mean taking the dinghy back to the boat in the dark, and that didn’t seem like a good idea in light of the looming storm. Around eight o’clock I got cooking. Frying steaks is simple enough. I had two skillets heating up on two swaying burners. If you’ve ever seen a boat kitchen, the stove is actually designed to roll front to back to compensate for the position of the boat and keep pots and pens more or less steady. Still, some safeguards were due. I wrapped a beach towel around myself and put on closed-toe shoes. In the meantime, Alek was handling the wine. Wrapping one hand around two tumblers, he managed two clean pours and stowed the bottle into its holder inside the table. With a free hand, he flicked the switches on the electric tea candles already dancing on the table. It was eerily romantic... While the steaks were resting on a plate, Alek picked up his glass with the left hand and was attempting to say something, while fumbling in his pocket with the right. Before any words could even escape his lips, the right hand was holding an open box with a beautifully delicate ring nestled inside it. I thought to myself – “After eleven years, you couldn’t have found a more memorable night then tonight...”
For more about what it was like to photograph this day, please visit Marcus'
blog.
