heidi is someone that i am truly enjoying getting to know. she is an amazing woman with an amazing story.
and she tagged me.
i have never been tagged before, so i will do my best.

top 4 wishes
i wish our world was a peaceful one
i wish i could get the hang of learning this technical photography stuff (it's killing me)
i wish i understood myself better
i wish our work weeks were two days and our weekends were five days

4 places i want to travel to
it's so hard to name just 4 places, but in a broad sense i would name:
asia
south america
europe
africa
specifically, tokyo is the number one place i want to go to

4 careers i would want to be involved in
gallery owner
professional photographer
graphic designer
journalist

4 things i want God to say at the gates of heaven
"here's your soy latte...and don't worry, your cup will refill automatically."
"so i understand you have a few questions for me? let's talk."
"you were a fairly decent human while you were living down there on that earth plane."
"your dad is over there and he can't wait to see you....oh and by the way, your grandmothers are all over there too and they have the cribbage board all set up and ready for a game."

more lessons i've learned from middle age (so far)

1. speaking your mind is a good thing only if you actually have one
2. living well takes on a whole new meaning the older you get
3. the person that pulls in front of you will invariably drive at least 10 miles below the speed limit
4. it's better to be kind than right
5. hotel walls are thin
6. these will always be the best days of our lives
7. people actually can see what you're doing in your car
8. intuition is under-rated
9. by the time i can find my phone, it will have stopped ringing
10. the older i get the less i know (i can't say this one enough)


one must never, ever, ever park in the middle of a soybean field.





i am always on the hunt to catch a photo of the cows in the nearby pasture when they're taking a little dunk in the pond. my sister-in-law loves that funny scene too and i have tried my best to capture it for her but with no luck so far. saturday morning i was passing by the pasture which i do practically every day and the pond was clear of cows, but there was one lone cow standing next to a tree. i thought i'd stop and get a picture of him because he looked so regal standing there looking straight towards the road, standing proudly, tail switching. but as i drove by looking for a safe place to stop, i noticed that another cow was laying right next to him on his side. i didn't see him at first because of the tall grass. i knew that he was probably dead.

there's no telling how long that sweet cow had stood there next to his friend. watching over him. did he witness this passing? how do animals know?
when i looked out to the far pasture, i could see the farmer coming with the flatbed truck.

i hope that when that cow dies, someone will stand next to him just as he did for his friend.

1. redlights 2. chairs at smelly cat 3. salvador deli 4. high wires


with all the golds and oranges going on out there, i figured a little shot of blue and red couldn't hurt.



there's nothing like a photography class to make you feel not so very bright.
i am learning how very, very not so bright i am.
you would think that after all these years of using a camera and the many hours spent in the darkroom when i was younger, that i would remember at least something about photography. that i would be able to wrap my head around the basics of aperture,shutter and ISO.

but i am going to beat this thing i tell you. i don't care if i pop every neuron in my brain. i'm going to actually learn something technical.
for a change.
and meanwhile, i'll be playing around with taking pictures of trees in the dark.
much to mr. ntm's dismay.

self portrait tuesday

in
october's challenge is mirrors



it's like looking in a mirror.
and not only that, but even just walking into my daughter's room teleports me right back to the 1970's... the clothes all over the place but mostly on the floor, chocolate scented candles, peace signs, headbands and hair stuff, scads of makeup and paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

without even realizing it, she is reflecting back my teenaged years to me.





i hadn't made an apple pie since last september. the month my grandmother was born. the month that she died. and now a whole year has gone by without her.

i knew i could always find homemade apple pie on her kitchen counter no matter what day of the week it was. and i always knew that it would be the best apple pie i had ever tasted. my apple pie can't even come close. but it gives me a goal to aim towards. in her memory.

gram's swedish apple pie recipe

fill a 9" pie plate 2/3 full with sliced and peeled apples of your choice. sprinkle with 1T. of cinnamon and 2 T. sugar. in a separate bowl, combine the following:

3/4 cup melted butter
1 egg
3/4 cup sugar
1 cup flour
pinch of salt

pour batter over sliced apples and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes





fall is not meek and gentle.
fall is showy and magnificent.
it loudly requests that we take notice of it while it shows us its glorious colors and dramatic sun angles.
it wants to be seen.
and it demands that we pay attention to it.

sweet girl

in


when you grow up, will you remember this day? will you remember that you sat up so straight and true in your chair and placed your cloth napkin in your lap? that you tried so hard to be grown up too just like all the grown up girls you were sitting with? will you remember that you soaked in every little thing that they said? and every little thing they did?
how will the way they acted influence how you act when you grow up?

will you know that i loved watching you this day? and i studied every little facial expression you gave as i wondered about you and the kind of person you will grow up to be?



it feels like this political battle is never ending to me. the election can't come soon enough. i've pretty much reached my happiness threshold with it all, but this did make me smile.



Blue Hydrangea

Just like the last green in a colour pot
So are these leaves, withered and wrecked
Behind the flower umbels, which reflect
A hue of blue only, more they do not.
Reflections are tear-stained, inaccurate,
As if they were about to cease,
And like old blue notepaper sheets
They wear some yellow, grey and violet,
Washed-out like on a children's apron,
Outworn and now no more in use:
We contemplate a small life's short duration.
But suddenly some new blue seemingly is seen
In just one umbel, and we muse
Over a moving blue delighting in the green.

Translation © by Guntram Deichsel, 2003-12-03 and written by
Rainer Maria Rilke, July 1906, Paris

self portrait tuesday

in
september's challenge is contrast



i have to say that september's challenge was incredibly meaningful to me and i will surely miss it. i apologize that i have been ridiculously self-absorbed and probably narrow minded in my interpretation of this challenge, but it served as a powerful catalyst to what had been out of focus for me lately. funny to realize that contrast is what my life seems to be made up of at this time. i didn't realize it until now. it's been a year of incredible changes for me, and with changes bring all kinds of contrasts to navigate and more importantly, to negotiate.