Which Come First: Words or Pictures?

A wonderfully talented writer and friend of mine, Lori (http://weebleswobblog.blogspot.com/) once asked in a post: do you write the blog first and then the title or do you draft the title and create the blog from it? It was a tough question as I was so new to the art of blogging. But now, a few months into this, I can honestly say that neither applies to me. Photos jar me to be inspired to write and the words flow from the images. I "think" in photos more so than words (a total betrayal for a gal with two degrees in English Writing/Literature.) I see a picture, capture it and then spend time editing it and discovering the story within the image. I scrape through the layers of the photo to find the real story.

Lately I have been thinking about time. Simply put, the older I get, the quicker it passes. And factor in being a parent--watching your kids grow--it just seems to pass twice as quick. I look at the photos of what--at the time--seem like regular, normal days in our lives and start thinking about just how archival these days will be in a very short time...which will inevitably pass by...well, quickly. This weekend my oldest son wanted to 'mow the grass with daddy'. I watched in delight as he pushed his toy bubble mower (sans the bubbles) right behind his father step by step, copying his father's every move, until the lawn was finished. It was a peaceful and graceful thing to watch on a regular early summer night in Colorado. Our younger son, being true to himself, wandered off on his own, discovering a bucket of water and a neighboring toy. I shot some images, hoping to capture this 'slice-of-life' evening of ours. While editing the pictures--I scratched deeper and searched for images that were memory-like...archival, if you will. So I added texture to the photos to create the fuzzy-like images I felt were lurking deep within them. And then this story came to mind and urged me to post it!


I want to remember each detail and relish in the simple days of our lives--ones just like these photos remind me of-- watching our sons grow tall and strong in the Colorado sun, in the month of June, in the summer of 2008.

My Life List: A Work in Progress!

I had the honor of crossing off another item from my 'life list' yesterday-completing the 'Bolder Boulder' 10k race with my buddy Diana (Pink Cowboy hat girl--as she became know as during the race)!

There are so many reasons I love Boulder; the amazing flowers that line the Pearl Stree Mall, the view of the flatirons, the food, the infamous Boulder Bookstore, the noticable good vibes...and the people-watching. But the race took the people-watching to a new level. Very unique "characters" (including Captian America not pictured) were everywhere enjoying the day--despite the chilly temps (note the pic of the tye-dye bikini girls and the pink dress dude) and the light rain. All I saw that morning were people enjoying themselves, fun bands along the roadside, folks cheering us along and lots of smiles! It was such a rush to be part of the 2008 Bolder Boulder and even more exciting was walking through Folsom Field (University of Colorado stadium) at the finish line to the crowd cheering us on. And the Memorial Day ceremony was quite touching--evoking feelings of patriotism and gratitude for the real heroes of our culture who gave their lives to our great country.

And I got to experience this fun event with a good friend to boot! We laughed and enjoyed celebrating our common goal--pushing ourselves to do something on our mutual 'life lists'. (We even took the bus at 5am to head to the event early--this, if you know us--was a big step!)

I love the spirit of the people there. And I really value the people who love life in general--many of whom can be found in Boulder, Colorado!

A Step Back in Time...

I grew up in a small city-town if that makes sense. I mean-the city was close by but the small town seemed to eclipse it in a way. It's been 8 years since I've lived there but what I remember most about it is the people. Never before have I met such sincere people, such passionate sports finatics and such an interesting group of folks able to tolerate the crappiest weather and still keep a smile on their faces.

During our recent visit-7 days-it rained 6...all day long. It was dreary, dismal and humid. The clouds hovered over constantly and the raindrops lulled me to sleep at night.

My dad took our sons (his grandsons) to his favorite local bakery. (You don't find many of these around any more and certainly not here in Colorado.) The same two ladies worked behind the counter from 8 years ago and past visits with my dad to get our pastry fix. They smile, make jokes, and offer our boys fresh baked cookies. It smelled lovely in there and the smiles from those clerks really brightened up the dismal morning. I snapped a few photos to remember and relive the moment. I should have made the photos all black and white...as they remind me of days long ago and times long ago when papas took their grandsons to the bakery. I wanted to capture my dad in his everyday life, his environment, his world and his town. He's loyal to it and enjoys the small town life he lives in and around the big city.

I love you dad-for all that you are passionate about and...for the doughnuts, cookies and fresh baked pastries every time we come back for a visit.

Creating a memory or living in the moment?

Our recent vacation (2100 miles of beautiful scenery and a wealth of memories) got me to thinkin' about my role as a "photographer" a bit. I guess it's time to admit that I am getting a bit obsessive about capturing moments. Sometimes I see the shot in my mind and try way too hard to recreate it for the photo. What I am missing out on is, essentially, living in the moment. Lugging two cameras and 4 lenses (plus a speedlight and my new $350 Bogen tripod...not carbon fiber either) I realized that I am definitely living on the line somewhere in between the real world of the moment and the creative world of the capturer. It's a risky strategy no doubt.

I just can't seem to let a moment go without an attempt to document it. At times I feel like I am trying too hard and it's showing in the photos. The result is too many 'posed' and uncreative shots. I've also seen an increase in pictures where the lens choice was wrong, the depth of field or the lighting were off and the emotion stripped from the moment all because I am trying too hard to stage something and am not taking the time to think about the composition.

In whipping out the camera and trying to set up this picture of our lovely picnic looking up at the beautiful hoodos in Queen's Garden at Bryce Canyon National Park, I missed the moment of pure beauty and togetherness we were experiencing. I stole from the silence by asking everyone to stop eating and pose for me. Heck-I even scared away this lovely and majestic blue jay from the neighboring tree with my pose requests and grunting as I tried to move my bulky body down to a squat to set up the self timer. I missed the moment.

Or did I?

Because now I have this lovely photo to remember that day, that hike and the yummy turkey and swiss sandwiches we had packed by the Bryce Canyon Lodge in preparation for our hike. Now I am reliving that moment over and over when I look at the photo. And I am sure, with time I will forget everything else that caused stress to set it all up.

Right?

The best 'pictures' exist in our minds...

This is a direct quote from my husband, said the other night just before bed. Long after he'd fallen fast asleep, I lay tossing and turning thinking about that simple quote. And after what seemed like an hour of deep thought I think he's right.

Some examples/rants of my thought process during that lone hour.

Why is it that I can hear my husband's razor combined with the smell of his shaving cream waffling through the bathroom door and be taken directly back to my childhood home 20-some years ago while our family was getting ready for a wedding. The sound of my dad's electric razor and the smell of his shaving cream are exact. Only in my memory I can also smell my dad's cologne, see him standing in his suit pants and white tee shirt and see the white puffs of smoke coming from the Salem cigarette dangling from his lips as he shaved. I experienced these two things as if they were happening simultaneously yet over 20 years separated them. No pictures exist to prove either of these moments yet they are inextricably linked-at least in my mind. (aside from the cigarette smell as neither my husband nor I smoke).

Last spring our beloved dentist's son was tragically killed in a skateboarding accident on his LAST day of high school. Even more tragic is that he was killed on a free period just a few feet from the school. He was a child of such promise, such potential, well-loved and an extremely talented musician. I've been a patient of this dentist for 8 years now and have never been to his home nor seen him outside of the office. I did know from talking to him over the years that he lived close to us. Upon seeing the story on the news and gazing at that handsome boys face (an unmistakable likeness to his father/our dentist), I jumped in the car and drove over to his home. The dentist answered the door. I remember the color of his eyes so well. They were so blue, so lost and the sadness in them simply cannot be described in words. That man gave ME the biggest hug (and the longest one I've ever received in my life). It lasted for such a long time and with such intensity that I thought I was going to knock him over. (I was a bit taller and certainly heavier than he). It's been almost a year and I have never forgotten that moment. I can go on and on about the details of that rainy spring day in May 2007, being able to recall the moment so precisely, the smell of the house where death had overtaken, the intensity of the embrace etc. No picture exists. But this one, like the memory of my dad, stays with me. And probably always will.

This week marks my 7th wedding anniversary. I don't need to whip out my thick wedding album to remember. I can close my eyes and I am standing in the church arm in arm with my dad. I am not nervous at all-but confident and calm as I look up the isle to see my future husband standing at the altar with his hands behind his back. I can feel my dress, my tiara (yes-I actually wore one!) and the sun shinning down on us through the beautiful stained glass window above the altar. Happy Anniversary my dear.

Such intense emotions and memories are so vivid, so powerful and can exist not on Kodak Endura paper but only...in our minds. So lovely and so perfect that no amount of time could ever weather them.

Informal "Connections"

I am finding that the older I get, the more I need to connect with people. The more I need to feel part of a community. The more I need to feel noticed and appreciated and...well alive.

In many ways-this (excuse the cliche)"high tech" world of ours offer us so much in the way of communication options. The technology is impressive indeed. But deep down I feel like we as a culture have regressed so much. Now we're all sitting in coffee shops emailing the person two tables away. Pretty soon we'll be emailing the barista our coffee drink order and then tipping them electronically via a follow up email.

Don't get me wrong--I love the computer, my cell phone, my ipod and, of course, my camera but... Most of the time I still feel, well--'disconnected', and unnoticed. Invisible at times. That is until I type my way into the world wide web. My cyber home, my cyber family, my cyber friends. A place where my photos can do the talking for me.

I joined the SmugMug Daily Photo community recently to connect with others as passionate and obsessed with photography as I am. To connect with people who appreciate pictures, look for meaning in them; those who notice the small things. They help me to grow in my photography and offer criticism, insight and perspective. They notice me. In posting photos I am looking to express my creativity mostly but I am often offered positive feedback, perspective, and even compliments. (Icing on the cake as far as I am concerned.) I just want to feel part of something bigger than me where I can learn and grow (can you hear the Cheers theme playing in the background?). I choose to write and communicate with pictures rather than words. It feels safer and, as it turns out, is more rewarding.

What baffles me is that in such a short period of time I have established those connections, I have been touched by them. For example, my family knows I am a total goob about taking pictures. Most of the time they tire from me sending them-especially when they come in large bunches. Often they don't respond and certainly almost never offer any feedback (or thanks). Heck-even my own husband rolls his eyes when I grab the camera bag for a quick outing. (He grumbles even more when I point the camera at him.) But here on this site--in just over two months I have learned about people's thoughts, homes, travels, passions, loves, pets and pet peeves, losses-- the list goes on and on. I've communicated with people, connected with them, and learned from them. It is, in some ways, like a family. I've even had one guy work on my images to improve them for me (thanks George). Almost always, when I ask a question, I get a personal (kind and helpful) response. All this from people I have never met and probably never will get the chance to.

Even more baffling is that I can walk into the camera store where I purchased (a guess here as it would be too depressing to actually tally these number up) over $4,000 worth of camera equipment in the past three years unnoticed for ten minutes..probably because I have a baby in a stroller. And even more troubling that when I walk to the counter the sales person (who is looking through a stack of photos he's recently developed) says "can I help you" without ever making eye contact with me for almost a minute. He's uninterested in me, my request and troubled that I am asking to get my CCD sensor in the camera cleaned. "That will take over a week you know?", he says while still thumbing through the photos. "Humm-", I say, "that'll be better than taking pictures on a two thousand dollar camera with two huge spots on the sensor", I say to this drone-like twentysomething.

Truth be told, I'd rather go home, get online and feel alive again.

Scary.

Chaos

Chaos is not necessarily a scary word to me. It seems as if I sumliminally prefer to live my life in it. The older I get the less I worry about organizing and the more I worry about getting the most out of life. Spontinaety rules. I like that about myself.

Today while painting with the kiddos I got inspired to show my chaotic side. (Years ago I used to paint abstracts and produced a line of greeting cards and a series of paintings which my sister so graciously hangs on her walls. It was a chaotic time in my life. I was lacking direction and I was guided by pain and sadness. My art was produced out of pain.)

Today I watched my almost-four-year-old swirl the brushes around on the paper. I enjoyed watching him select the colors and mix them together. He's thinking in colors. How cool is that? (My other son--who is 21 months, prefers to try and put the paint in his mouth so we are not yet able to officially experiment with colors. Give us a few months though.)

I usually am banned to just watching my sons create. Today I grabbed that brush and decided to try using myself as a canvas. How chaotic is that? But it felt good to let go and to see my aging self in vivid tempura colors. The red felt good, the yellow-even better. Then came the green which inspired me to mix all of the colors on my face together. Amazing. Crazy-yep. Fun-yep. Silly--you betcha.

Having kids puts you back into a life of chaos. No longer are your actions your own. Your schedule depends on them, your reputation is defined by them. Your self image becomes burried deep in the sands of time. You look at yourself and feel lost, overweight, out of style--and old. I struggle with this so much.

It's taken me a few years--but I am finally embracing it all--this stage of life --the kids have taught me the art living in the moment. I thrive in the chaos and I share it with them. And today it was all artifically "colorful", passionate and beautiful.