http://www.cloudybright.com/ cloudybright communications en-us Carmen Sisson (c) 2004-2010 Carmen Sisson 120 http://www.cloudybright.com/912.php

Bacon cheeseburger and the best onion rings in the world at Cheeburger Cheeburger in Mobile, Ala. I haven't shot food in a while. Blew my highlights, needed a reflector, should have straightened up the innards, etc. I know. I KNOW. I'll keep working on it. Music: Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson (video) Order a Print ]]> 912@http://www.cloudybright.com Wed, 10 Mar 2010 20:54:35 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0912cheeburgercheeburger.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0912cheeburgercheeburger.jpg Say Cheese http://www.cloudybright.com/911.php

]]> 911@http://www.cloudybright.com Mon, 01 Mar 2010 18:42:27 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/wafflehouse2.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_wafflehouse2.jpg Rainy Night in Alabama http://www.cloudybright.com/910.php

Sam Barry uncorks a bottle of champagne, spraying the crowd at the Royol Sonesta Hotel in the New Orleans French Quarter Sunday night following the Saints' 31-17 Super Bowl win over the Indianapolis Colts. (Photo by Carmen Sisson) ]]> 910@http://www.cloudybright.com Mon, 08 Feb 2010 20:18:00 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/FQ910.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_FQ910.jpg Saints Celebration http://www.cloudybright.com/909.php

Shrimp on ice at a supermarket in Slidell, Louisiana. ]]> 909@http://www.cloudybright.com Fri, 05 Feb 2010 21:14:00 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/909shrimp.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_909shrimp.jpg Chillin' Out http://www.cloudybright.com/908.php

He was a good waiter — the kind you tip once for his kindness, twice for his discretion. I was a shy student — the kind that’s easily smitten, but quickly spooked. The corner table was mine; he made that clear. My table was his; he made that clear as well. I wasn’t old enough to drink, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t afford to order food, but he didn’t care. His coworkers shrugged. The whole thing was downright peculiar, they all agreed, but if he wanted to channel Nabakov, it was no green off their paycheck. I liked to watch the crowd. Dutifully, I captured vignettes, my hand moving fast in a looping scrawl across the pages of my journal. Fraternity boys hefting Goldschläger to the light, solemnly admiring its yellow flakes before shooting it like 50-cent swill. Sorority girls frowning in the mirror, inspecting their teeth for lipstick, taking exaggerated drags from filched Camel Lights. Guys’ hands sliding around slender waists, fingering zippers, softly demanding unspoken permission. Girls’ tongues snaking along razored hairlines, flicking earlobes, wetly promising more salacious pleasures. Wedding rings dropped into pockets. Phone numbers scribbled onto sweating palms. I watched it all, as much a part as the oak countertop, the pocked brick walls. The night we met, he said it didn’t seem like my scene. I shrugged and uncapped my pen. A writer’s scene is whatever is in front of her. He turned me on to New York Times. I’d never read it because it cost a dollar, and I was a college student. When he saw that I liked it, he began dropping other papers onto my table. USA Today. Wall Street Journal. I tipped extra. He stopped charging for the coffee. And so we slid into an easy, uneventful courtship: The kiss, the ring, the joining of libraries. He liked reading to me, and I liked laying my head on his chest, feeling the vibration of his voice as we curled in bed like commas, savoring the pleasure of a mutual love. I took an editorship at a weekly newspaper, and he followed. On Sundays, we loaded cameras, notebooks, and newspapers into the trunk and headed for the far-flung reaches of our coverage area. I was enthralled with writer David Sedaris at the time, and we drove for hours, listening to "This American Life" on NPR. Whenever we saw someone outside, we stopped, gave them a paper, chatted about story ideas, and generally had a ball being goodwill ambassadors. We yawned through city council meetings together. I shot Friday night football while he sat in the press box, copying rosters. We worked 60-80 hours a week, some nights never going home at all. We didn’t care. We blasted Harry Connick Jr. through the office at 3 a.m. and danced because no one was there and we could. Then I left the paper, or more precisely, I caused us both to be fired. I struck off on my own as a freelancer, and he took a job at a reprographics shop. Gone were the days of lavish parties, where I piled silver platters with food and plied everyone with copious amounts of wine until they were too drunk to go home. Gone were the evenings spent strolling art museums, attending symphonies, enjoying the semi-royalty of being small-town press barons. Gone was the sense of teamwork and commitment to a higher calling. Everything was gone. I started out with regional clients and built my way up to national publications. He got fired from the repro shop and took a job designing coupons for a junk mail company. He hated his commute and hated the boredom of being trapped in a corporate cubicle farm. I hated the way he took it out on me. The more miserable we became, the more money we blew. The more money we blew, the more stressful things became. He spent evenings hunched on the couch, nodding off with a beer in one hand, remote control in the other. I ate supper at my desk and mindlessly surfed the internet until I fell asleep at my keyboard. Some days, we barely saw each other at all. One night, he came home at 3 a.m., flushed and excited. He looked happier than I’d seen him in years. The next day, as I stood in the bathroom and brushed my teeth, I asked the question. “So are you moving out?” “Yeah, probably.” “When?” “August maybe.” “If you’re going to go, I think you should go ahead and go. If you’re going to do it, get it over with.” I walked to my office, and he went to pack. He returned with his suitcase, and I sat with my feet on my desk, staring at the wall, cigarette in one hand, other hand tucked beneath my armpit as I hugged myself, trying to hold my bones together. Our dog bounced frantically between us, squeaking his ball. We said nothing, because there was nothing left to say. This week, as I sift through what’s left of our 14 years together, words are all that remain. I stand in my dining room and throw books into boxes. He’s gone; I’m moving; our story is complete. The only winner is the used bookstore. ]]> 908@http://www.cloudybright.com Fri, 29 Jan 2010 07:24:34 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0908skyy.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0908skyy.jpg Ex Libris http://www.cloudybright.com/907.php

Alabama fans are a devoted bunch. Temperatures in Tuscaloosa hovered at 20 degrees last night, with the windchill dipping to 13, but thousands gathered at Tuscaloosa Regional Airport and the Mal Moore Athletic Facility to greet the team when they flew in from California. Fans were disappointed when players trudged into the building without coming to say hello or even acknowledging their presence, but nose tackle Terrence Cody signed everything from cell phones to caps, thrilling fans and giving me the chance to shoot this image for Associated Press. In other news, my car was burglarized Thursday night. Goodbye, iPod and GPS. I loved you both. ]]> 907@http://www.cloudybright.com Sat, 09 Jan 2010 11:43:03 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0907AlabamaWelcome1.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0907AlabamaWelcome1.jpg Welcome Home, Bama http://www.cloudybright.com/906.php

]]> 906@http://www.cloudybright.com Sun, 03 Jan 2010 20:04:23 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0906jan3.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0906jan3.jpg Some Days are Like This http://www.cloudybright.com/905.php

He is a herding dog, bred to work. We live in the city. He is an unemployed herder. He picks up odd jobs along the way. Can't get your kid to stay in the corner? He's the dog to call. Need to remind the cats who's really in charge? (Hint: It's not you.) Want a dishwasher, garbage disposal, paper shredder, taste tester, alarm clock, physical trainer, body guard, and personal valet? He's good at offering all these services -- unsolicited. He's so good at working that I often wonder if he's ever truly asleep. His nose twitches, his ears prick, his feet peddle, and he woofs softly as he slumbers, no doubt still on the job. I long to wake him up, tell him he can punch the time card and go home, but then I remember - he already is home, and he works for me, not because he has to, but because it brings him joy. I wave a hotdog beneath his nose and smile as he cocks an ear and opens his eyes. Casually, I drop the treat onto the floor. Oh no! The horror! The floor is dirty! What if company came? No worries. Within seconds, the errant meat has been dispatched and order returns to our world. He settles on the couch again, with a sigh of mixed contentment and disgust. "You sure are clumsy," he seems to be saying. "It's a good thing I'm here, because you drop food on the floor all day long." ]]> 905@http://www.cloudybright.com Sat, 02 Jan 2010 20:03:06 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0905cowboynose.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0905cowboynose.jpg The Nose That Never Sleeps http://www.cloudybright.com/904.php

]]> 904@http://www.cloudybright.com Thu, 31 Dec 2009 21:02:46 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0904champagne.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0904champagne.jpg Good Riddance, 2009 http://www.cloudybright.com/903.php

Picture from a last-minute Associated Press assignment. Nine people - six of which were children - died in an apartment fire last night in Starkville, Miss. It was sad to photograph. ]]> 903@http://www.cloudybright.com Mon, 28 Dec 2009 20:30:19 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0903fire.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0903fire.jpg Sad Day in Starkville http://www.cloudybright.com/902.php

]]> 902@http://www.cloudybright.com Sat, 14 Nov 2009 20:25:09 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/902perdido8.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_902perdido8.jpg Gone Fishin' http://www.cloudybright.com/901.php

You've gotta love a job that sends you to the beach and pays you for it. Still, though I enjoyed the trip, I'm glad to be home. ]]> 901@http://www.cloudybright.com Fri, 13 Nov 2009 22:16:16 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0901perdido7.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0901perdido7.jpg Fenced In http://www.cloudybright.com/900.php

Sunset at Florida Point near Perdido Pass in Orange Beach, Alabama. Working on a story about global warming for Christian Science Monitor. ]]> 900@http://www.cloudybright.com Thu, 12 Nov 2009 20:02:58 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0900perdido2.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0900perdido2.jpg Sunset in Perdido http://www.cloudybright.com/899.php

Ok, so he's not THE Big Bird, but he/she is a big bird, nonetheless. Photographed while on an assignment about global warming for Christian Science Monitor. ]]> 899@http://www.cloudybright.com Thu, 12 Nov 2009 18:41:02 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0899perdido6.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0899perdido6.jpg Big Bird http://www.cloudybright.com/898.php

In Pensacola, Fla. tonight, covering Hurricane — now Tropical Storm — Ida. It's turning into a rain event. ]]> 898@http://www.cloudybright.com Mon, 09 Nov 2009 19:36:01 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/898ida.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_898ida.jpg Hurricane Ida http://www.cloudybright.com/897.php

Cowboy was surprised by not just one bone, but two yesterday afternoon — an unexpected gift from my neighbor. Music: Right Here, Right Now by Fatboy Slim ]]> 897@http://www.cloudybright.com Sun, 08 Nov 2009 18:05:16 -0800 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0897cowboyandbone.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_cowboyandbone.jpg Good Neighbors http://www.cloudybright.com/896.php

Filed my story for the Monitor this morning. It should run as part of a larger economy piece in the weekly magazine soon. This image is of Bridge Town Centre, an upscale shopping district in Huntsville, and a good example of the city's booming economy. Music: One Night Stand by Hinder (lyrics) Order a Print ]]> 896@http://www.cloudybright.com Tue, 27 Oct 2009 15:00:38 -0700 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0896huntsville6.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0896huntsville6.jpg Postcard from Huntsville http://www.cloudybright.com/895.php

Nothing says Saturday morning like a heaping plate of sugar. Begin the day with two hot buttered biscuits drowning in a rich, viscous chocolate goo and you're set to conquer the world — or at least downtown Huntsville. This is the first trip I've taken since I traded my BlackBerry for an iPhone, and I've put it to good use. User-centric Yelp has been useful for finding stuff to eat and things to do with real-life reviews from ordinary people who aren't afraid to say things like this: "The experience was so horrifying, I still wake up in the middle of the night and cry about it." And: "The decor is kinda hospital cafeteria meets Clockwork Orange. Really sort of unsettling.) Note to self: Skip Shogun Japanese Steakhouse and Ketchup. But the reviews for the Blue Plate Cafe were spot-on. Overall, Huntsville has been a great experience. The people here are rocket scientists — literally. The city is clean, albeit somewhat post-modern sterile, and my hotel is fantastic. I wish I lived here. Actually, some people do. There are washers and dryers downstairs, and my room has a real stove and full-size microwave, refrigerator, and dishwasher. No traipsing down a dark corridor in the middle of the night, only to discover the ice machine is broken either. Instead, at 2 a.m., I padded down the carpeted hallway and took the elevator down to an in-house convenience store. Snagged a Hershey bar with almonds, noted the price and my room number on a piece of paper, and dropped it in a box so it could be added to my bill. They charge by the honor system. It's been good for Cowboy as well — after he overcame the initial terror of the elevator. Now he rushes to it, leaps inside, and patiently waits for the doors to open and take him outside, where a grassy field awaits his morning ministrations. My story is going well, too. Had the pleasure of spending yesterday afternoon with a nice family and will spend this afternoon shooting photographs and taking a few more interviews. Then it will be time to come home. Before I do though, I think I'll have the cocoa biscuits one more time. Music: Far From Home by Hinder (lyrics) Order a Print ]]> 895@http://www.cloudybright.com Sun, 25 Oct 2009 10:47:11 -0700 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0895cocoabiscuits.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0895cocoabiscuits.jpg Only in the South http://www.cloudybright.com/894.php

A tri-tone version of yesterday's image. ]]> 894@http://www.cloudybright.com Sat, 10 Oct 2009 17:23:02 -0700 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0894dramaticskies2.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0894dramaticskies2.jpg Drama II http://www.cloudybright.com/893.php

]]> 893@http://www.cloudybright.com Fri, 09 Oct 2009 23:51:45 -0700 Carmen Sisson http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/0893dramaticskies.jpg http://www.cloudybright.com/images/photoblog/thumbs/t_0893dramaticskies.jpg Drama