Story in lavendars and blues

Here I am at the Monterey Bay in 1983. This has always been one of my favorite photographs of myself. I am wearing a big loose lavendar shirt and a dark blue wraparound skirt which was made out of that heavy, coarsely woven cotton fabric from India that is so comfortable and used to be ubiquitous in those lightweight bedspreads useful to hippies. No polyester, nothing except the comfort of cotton. I was surprised when this photo, taken by C.J., my foster daughter, repeats the lavendars and blues of my outfit. It was taken on Kodachrome; this scan is from a print I sent my mother, which she taped to her wall. My friend Paul had one framed in his apartment when he died of AIDS in 1990. My brother, who died of cancer in 1997, told me he taped his to a window, so he could feel like he stood behind me looking out at the beach, even in hot Texas weather. All of these loved people are now dead, and I no longer know where C.J. is. The me of this photo also no longer exists, except in this memory thread. I still think I would like to decorate a room in these colors.