Love should be an easy thing to write about, but it has so many moving parts. Our marriage has been pretty steady over the past 18 years, but it’s a balancing act on a roller coast all in slow motion. It’s subtle. Weird sneaks up out of nowhere and then dissolves with a laugh, a talk, or a walk in the woods. As soon as we can focus on each other for a few minutes, all the feelings of safety and warmth comes flooding back.
Sometimes the camera on the cell phone turns on by itself. If I were paranoid I’d say someone was watching me through that innocent little lens. An actual picture is rarely taken but sometimes I’m feeling a little exposed (pun unintentionally intended). I’m sure it’s just my clumsy handling of a delicate piece of technology, like a butt dial. Is there a name for that like a cheap shot or something?
In any case, some of the random shots were intriguing enough that I felt the whole shoot-at-will thing needed some more study. What I found out is that being “random” on purpose is really hard! It was almost painful to not compose the picture, not adjust the surroundings and so on. Could it be that I just can’t let go of my “eye” and the need to make the shot right? Maybe that takes a certain type of personality. Someone that can let go of control. And here I thought I was just that loosey-goosey-artist-type that could do that. Nope, apparently not. But I’m going to keep try until I get bored with it.
I will be trying this again. Standby….
We are staying in hotel with casitas. Each casita has huge sliding glass doors that lead to a little plunge pool.
We decided the air and temperature was so delightful at night that we wanted to leave those doors wide open. In the middle of the night I heard something and saw the tail of a rather large animal jumping down from the kitchen counter. I woke my husband and with two small flashlights we searched the villa. We saw and heard nothing further and decided I must have been dreaming.
However, the next morning I noticed crystal powder on the floor leading out to the pool. Sugar? Then saw a tea bag(brought from home) that was in the sink but there should have been two more. There on the counter was the second. It had been gnawed open with tea sprinkled around as if it exploded. I still haven’t found the third tea bag.
Finally we noticed our two bananas were gone. The peels were left by the pool. One to the right of the pool and one to left. It must have been a party!We were told it had been raccoons or coati. Apparently they can open the refrigerator door if they think there’s something good in there.
In my silly mind, I wondered if we closed the door tonight, will they knock to be let in?
Anyway, the sun was just right for picture taking.
I’ve had a busy few weeks. First was a studio tour last weekend. The kind of event where artists open their studio for people to visit and drive from one artist’s studio to another. They came to my house; mostly older women dragging their husbands. Continue reading
I don’t know mushrooms or fungi but I love them. The shapes and color are fascinating to me. In fact I just bought a blouse with tiny mushrooms all over it. It works.
Welcome to Vinalhaven. Maybe I shouldn’t advertise it and keep it a secret… I mean moss covered pine forests edged with giant ferns, I mean, come on! Even the dog smelled fresh and hug-able after a few days here.
I don’t know, it was the color of the sky, the silhouetted shapes, the setting sun…the picture just had to be taken. It’s not great or anything but there was something whimsical about the berries and the stems they hung on and the rhythm of the leaves.
We always go south in the winter, just for a week.Water and islands seem always to be involved. It felt so good to be warm, snorkeling in turquoise water and the smell salty air. I fell in love with the island of Dominica. “Why aren’t we living there?” I keep asking anyone that will listen.
Home now and there was beautiful flurry of snow dusting the roads and grass this morning. That was nice too. Viewed, of course, sipping coffee, curled up next to a cozy fire.
I love taking an object or a photograph and using it as inspiration to write a short story. This is very much a children’s story.
The bottle looked empty but was sealed with a cork, wax and an old tattered ribbon. When Harmony found it on the beach, it was hidden between rocks where it had been resting for some time. At ten years old she was absolutely delighted with the object that fit so perfectly in her little hand. Her first thought was to show her father the new treasure, so off she trotted over the rocky shore like a billy goat. Continue reading
I never accept “chain” things which this challenge was. However, I really like this one. It’s been a great creative motivator. So thank you John Kavanaugh! Anyway, in order not to break the chain I have to nominate two others. I think Lucy Kagen Mullineaux would get a kick out of this as would William B.Plowman. Enjoy guys! I can’t wait to see what you come up with!
This happened during lunch today. So simple and yet with no other props, decoration or lighting it rang true telling its story of age and survival.
I’ve been challenged (all my life). This time by a photo opportunity. It’s five days with one black and white photo a day. Day 1 and I had several choices I wanted to post but this one struck me. Shooting both inside and out (freezing out there) this is the one that felt like it created questions or had a story to go along with it.
I was walking the dog the other day and there were a bunch of people walking around the woods collecting garbage. I saw some rusted piece and asked if I could have it and that I would pick it up on the way back from my walk. The guy was a little confused but went along with it.
When I returned he started to open a plastic bag. I guess he found one along the creek and was going to put my rust in it. I had picked up some plastic bottles and offered to trade my plastic for his rust. Happily he opened on of the massive garbage bags but then he pulled out half of a rusted tail piped and few other rusted bits and tried to sell me on each piece. It was a fun exchange as if we were in a garbage market. I accepted the tailpipe and other pieces and walk merrily down the road.
I wish I had a picture though of me in my tattered jeans lugging a bag full of rust. I looked and felt a bag lady and perhaps I am.
Here is the tailpipe planted in the garden and another bit of rust that happens to be on a chicken.