sunday grace: indian summer and the serendipity of leaves

an indian summer has such a poetic ring to it.  i try to love it and appreciate it for what it is, but the reality of a string of ninety degree days in october almost always feels harsh.  it happens nearly every year:  the trees begin to speak the soft language of autumn and then summer, the party guest that was asked to leave a few days ago because we are all exhausted from the frenzy she brings, loudly bursts through the door for one last poorly executed joke.

what is the message here?   for me it is nearly always about soothing my impatience and slowing down and being present in this moment.  instead of the moment that lies ahead, that i'm hoping for (in this case, my favorite season, autumn).  because undoubtedly when i reach that moment, i will be thinking ahead to the next one.  and so on...

i love it when i notice patterns in the collection of images i capture along the way.  lately, there are leaves.

leaves that nourish...

leaves that mesmerize.

on saturday, we were lucky to hear photographer binh danh speak about his work and see some of his incredible photos.  mr. danh speaks of nature...leaves, grass, ground, bark...holding the memories and emotions of events that it witnessed.  just as the photograph does.  some of his work involves working with photography on leaves and grass, particularly haunting images from the era of the vietnam war.

there is just something so incredibly beautiful about the leaves holding our stories.

how to be idle and blessed

i don't know exactly what a prayer is. 

i do know how to pay attention, to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields.

which is what i have been doing all day.

tell me, what else should i have done?

doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

-mary oliver

the summer day

stealing buddha

this is one of my favorite photos.  i shot it several years ago when i was learning about depth of field.  a large print of it is hanging on my wall.  i saw it this morning (well, an over-saturated photoshopped version of it) on pinterest and it was credited to a tumblr site.  i followed the link and saw that the tumblr site credited it to a blogger that was not me.  that site no longer exists.  i then noticed that the photo was reblogged to about 212 other sites from the tumblr site.   before i stopped myself, i saw that some of those sites gave no credit to the photo or even implied it was their own.

deep breath. 

and another. 

just the other day i thought, "get over yourself" when another blogger was complaining (again) on facebook about her photos being inaccurately credited.

so i am now saying it to myself:

get over yourself.

let it go.

detach.

the subject matter of the photo is perfect for this challenge.  whenever i begin to study buddhism, my eyes start to glaze over when we get to the part about non-attachment.  i like my things.  i like my people.  i like my ideas.  i am not a good sharer.  (just ask ken about the big bowl of popcorn that is mineminemine and get your mitts outta the bowl.)  quite the lesson for me, right?

i realized that tracking down every single blog that posted my (um, the) photo was fruitless and a little stupid.  i realized that the wild possessive streak that was heating up my body was quite ugly.  i realized that buddha (even a miniature manufactured buddha) does not belong to me.

i realized that the image gives peace and happiness and color and joy to so many people who i will never know, who will never visit my blog and who may need to see it at just the right moment.

do i really need to be credited with that?  it would be nice, but it's not necessary.

i'm over myself.  it feels weird.  in a good way.

and yes, i realize that this blog post is staking claim to the image.  baby steps.

p.s.  i still believe the kindest, most-likely-way-to-produce-good-karma thing to do it to ask permission and/or properly credit photos, especially when they are from someone who makes their living from their photography.

{that twitch of mine}

i impulsively snap photos of ordinary objects around my house.  especially when the light is just so.  i am grateful for that.

meet virginia: look3

this weekend was the annual look3 festival of the photograph in charlottesville.

all of the photographs on display were beautiful and provocative.  for me, the vitali exhibit was the most stunning.

the downtown walking mall was festooned with giant photographs.

nothing goes better with art than gelato. 

him: mango, raspberry and pistachio. me: strawberry and pink peppercorn.

the small

this week it's the littlest things that shine the brightest:

• tiny buds full of promise
• the (mostly annoying) herd of deer that roam my neighborhood are joined by three new fawns
• sporadic moments of humor in an otherwise frightful work week
• one hour of glee can redeem an entire day
• a spontaneous text message invite from k to hear this artist talk about her process (amazing!)
• the power of the word no
• the grace of the word yes

moments of grace

• my neighborhood turns from brown to brilliant in the space of one week
• a baby girl leaves the nicu for her brand new loving life
• the look of happiness ken gives me when he comes home to find me in leggings, an old sex pistols tee and an apron furiously whisking a bechamel for his favorite:  lasagna (he loves it when i get super-wifey)
• bikram yoga working its magic outside the hot room:  my totally fun saturday (garden shops! lunch! farm market! vintage! photographing!) turned upside down with car trouble, waiting and towtrucks.  i did not lose patience or my temper and spent the time waiting for the towtruck in awe and wonder at my peaceful demeanor
• being kissed goodnight even though i am already asleep
• waking up to the sound of tiny ice drops on my window

what moment of grace did you experience this week?

diner haiku

our soft private words
eggs coffee toast forgiveness
peace within chaos

one hundred things i love {31-40}

31.  bokeh
32.  stacks of new magazines to pour over
33.  bikram yoga
34.  farm markets
35.  this morning my house smells like coffee and jasmine (she finally bloomed!)
36.  that first warm day that ususally falls in february
37.  pablo neruda
38.  walking through a hushed forest, the birds and my footsteps the only sounds
39.  campfires
40.  uncontained, tear-inducing laughter

(see 1-30 here.)

what i learned at my first wedding shoot

• there are lots of good reasons some photographers charge thousands of dollars to do a wedding (it's hard work!).
• i was right not to wear a dress and heels.
• when it's unseasonably hot for a late september evening, you can't run around for four hours without drinking any water and expect not to get sick.
• love lights up an image.
• every single time.
• i do much better photographing children, which validates my instinctual desire to use my art to capture happiness in children which in turn balances out the sadness and stress from my day job.  i am certain, however, that the bride did not really want 200 images of her hilarious pixie flower girl.
• i am happy happy happy behind a camera.
• any photograph with jamie in it is absolutely beautiful.
• because she is absolutely beautiful.

turn the corner

just when you thought it would never release its grip, summer's in-your-faceness takes it down a notch. 

what was once harsh is yielding, softened, open to interpretation.  fall into it.

parlons français!

bonjour friends!  i hope you had a lovely last-weekend-of-summer.  lately i find myself in a somewhat lazy and uninspired mood.  kind of blah and very un-septemberish of me.  my poor camera must feel abandoned.  when i'm in search of inspiration, a good old-school assignment always works.  coincidentally, i'm taking french lessons in order to spiff up my sad grammar and accent.  so i thought why not couple learning language with photography?  {and let me warn you, i'm talking basic here, nothing fancy.}

j'adore les framboises.

ce framboise ressemble a un petit coeur.

le meilleur moyen pour dire au revoir a l'ete.

stripped

in this moment you are divested of the pretty facade that buoyantly carries you through your world.  the fancy frock you wore to the party is stained and has fallen to the ground.  your engaging smile, witty repartee, brilliant answers, ambition and drive and dance moves all jumped the last train to the coast.

and you, in this moment, are still so beautiful.

the curious case of the disappearing imaginary friend

a curious thing happened earlier this summer that still has me thinking about my relationship with my camera.  i love to plan trips.  so much so that sometimes the planning is more exciting to me than the actual trip.  i adore the research, the compiling, the sorting of locales, spots, eateries, the itinerary production and reproduction.  i read stories that are set in my intended destination so that i can put myself into the story once i arrive.  i clip magazine articles, photos, maps, brochures, menus.  people, i make a binder.  with tabs. 

being joined at the hip with the canon is relatively new to me.  san francisco was my first longer-than-a-weekend destination where i really planned out which experiences, scenes and images i wanted to capture.  this list, appropriately named, "things i want to photograph in san francisco", was nestled behind the second tab in the binder, only slightly less important than the flight schedules and information.  i figured i had time to immerse myself in tiny pieces of culture and click away, giving myself space and opportunity to get some really beautiful photos that held all the magic of those moments and allowed me to explore things that i'm curious about.  i thought that this is what really good travel photographers must do.  you have to have the time and you have to let yourself see and be in the moment, right?   this is quite different from the spontaneous method of photography that is my typical modus operandi.

the list included things like "line of kids waiting for ice cream cones outside of bi-rite", "a transvestite in full dress and makeup", "taco truck", and lots of other things that hold my interest in addition to "make touristy/landmarky shots creative and individual".  i wanted to return with my own visual story of san francisco.

although i returned with some lovely images (and many more lovely memories) of san francisco, i didn't get most of the shots on the list.  even though i stood in line at bi-rite and a taco truck and had a quick and fun conversation with a beautiful transvestite who would have been over-the-moon if asked for a portrait.  i didn't even take a plate shot at zuni.  i mean, how many food shots from everyday restaurants have you seen on this blog?  and then nothing when it comes to culinary perfection!  one early morning, i passed a person asleep on the sidewalk, covered head-to-toe in a cornflower blue sleeping bag.  a sweet puppy's face looked out from underneath the field of blue.  the moment took my breath away.  i stood awestruck at the tenderness and loyalty.  instead of a photo, i smiled and said a little wish for safety and better times ahead and walked away.

in the days that i've been home, i find myself looking at the list and wondering what happened.  i had the time and the equipment and san francisco gave me more than it's share of beauty, humanity, life and color to capture.  i think back to the reason i picked up the canon in the first place.  my life had become so dull to me and i wasn't seeing the beauty of it at all.  my camera taught me to see, really see, the absolute gorgeousness of everyday life.  it is my constant companion, like an imaginary friend.  this relationship was altered when i was in san francisco and i'm exploring the possible reasons behind the disconnect. 

it's still a mystery to me.

rites of passage & color week giftie winner

last night i had the pleasure of photographing a dear friend's daughter's departure for her first prom.  the youthful giddyness was absolutely intoxicating.  and the beauty!  these kids have such a greater handle on health and fitness and style than my generation did.  everyone involved was positively beaming.  the beautiful energy continues to resonate as i move through the images in post-processing. 

here's what i know:  i love capturing moments.  my heart beats a quick happy rhythm during the shoot and while sitting alone at the computer editing.  i love the entire process.  completely.

speaking of my heart:  it is full of gratitude for everyone who participated in color week.  it was grander this year than i could have imagined.  you brought it friends!  i gathered up the names of participants from the blogroll and from the flickr group for a drawing.  debbie, you are the winner!  email me with your address.

i hope each of you has a magnificent sunday! 

nothing quite like

the resilience of children.

(photo credit here.)

and now back to blue december

so there was a bit of a detour from all the blueness of this brilliant month. I didn't have to push myself too hard to get back on track...december is just naturally tinted in cool shades of blues and purples for me.

a couple midweek links: first of all, I am over the moon with delight that my bebaubled chandelier is on apartment therapy. apartment freaking therapy!

and while I was visiting, I ran across this modern wreath that I can't wait to make this weekend.

if you want a fanciful spirited break, pop over to max wanger's site and take in all the sweet sassiness of his photographs. I get a little lost in the images and begin to feel they are illustrations for a modern day fairytale. each one sprouts a story.

what I love about photography

it shows the rest of us the beauty of all souls, the individual pure resilient light in a world of fear.

thank you hamish cairns. I think you're brilliant.

baby w

so new. so loved.

mosaic monday

happy, happy monday friends.

I just had to share more photos of precious ruby from this weekend. if you'd like to see a growing set, click here to see the slideshow. I happily spent most of my weekend processing images of this spirited one and those from another session with a baby (coming soon).

I face my "day job" work week this morning with a clear head and a balance I haven't felt in a while. while I was processing photos, my mind was processing the experience of taking photographs and how juxtaposed it is with my real job. strangely though, this didn't make me want to turn in a resignation letter today and wander off into the sunset with camera in tow. it made it all seem complete, like a loop was closed. I can't really put it into words right now for as is typical me, I'll need to think think think this whole thing through and back again.

I want to practice more and more and more. one of the true joys of my life is learning and mastering skills. my school of photography is this: take a happy being, make a connection, spend some time, laugh, talk, learn, play, explore.

oh and take some photos while you're there.