If we didn't have darkness, would we ever notice beautiful shadows and bouncing lights?
We all see.
I want to see the good in every person and situation.
It's an exercise.
After all, there are times when this upside down life challenges our vision.
Photography helps bring clarity, for me.
What is your clarifying exercise that you pull from the ceiling in times of need?
I've met a few dogs, in my life.
Long haired ones.
Short haired ones.
Good smelling ones.
Others that sniff for what seems like hours of their lives.
All make willing participants for photography, even if they look the other way.
They are excellent listeners, too.
Did I mention that?
... find a muse, a source of inspiration.
Storytelling imagery is my muse.
What is yours?
Do you see a bad apple in her hand or an ever-so-small bad spot in the otherwise fruitful treat?
It could go either way ...
... write your story.
Is the girl a doll?
Is the doll a girl?
If we see ourselves as reflections of others and vice versa, would we respond accordingly?
We are in this upside down life together.
Why not take a moment or two and look at a few things upside down, sideways, or
from another person's perspective?
In this upside down life, there are many things for which to be thankful.
I see many opportunities for each of us.
It begins with insight.
Until next time, xo,
I love the adventure of wandering here and there. The sights, smells, and textures of new places are alluring. Even if the baggage is blue, it is small. That counts. Finding positive space for negative objects is an ongoing process.
From where did this want to remain actively optimistic come? I cannot answer that question, but I love the adventure of searching my mind to consider the seeding. As the years continue, I fertilize positive seeds and share the harvest. It feels right.
Inside my mind, the door pulls open and up to a visual world of creativity. The doorknob is different leading into each room but always unlocks if I am willing to give it a twist to open. At times, it involves a climb. I am ready to exercise that task because I know the result is spiritually rewarding. And I admit, the journey is the fun part. Right?
Creating mobile art fertilizes frames of infinite spaces, in my garden, to free the little things which are stuck inside. Expressing my little quirks, through mobile art, is therapeutic. I wouldn't say that I grow more confident because I don't. I would say that my garden expands, not without weeds on occasion, but nevertheless, it sprouts.
Do You Garden Under The Moon's Light?
Walks With Friends
The birds know that I have absolutely no willpower to miss an opportunity to spend time in their company. Leaving all other tasks patiently awaiting my return, I take walks with birds. If I ignore the invitation, the results are less than interesting. It's real amidst the winds of creating art; the scooping air on the way up, the hanging suspense of soaring, the relaxation of landing. You feel it. Right? The fleeting moments with gathering images, adding textures, lightening, darkening, are surpassed only by the sharing. True story.
The Gathering Arms
The way I see it, life is a continuing opportunity to erase and begin again.
Performed by the Brunette Nested Birds in synchrony with the Brush, Pin, Tease and Spray Quartet.
I gather the iPhone, tripod, and remote shutter, for the image, and go outside to the patio. The rains stop long enough to tender a little time to play, though the sky remains cloudy. I twirl, twist, and move about the small space until I capture several frames.
I rarely have a particular pose or plan. I rather let the artful moments guide the way. This ensures the results are as much of a surprise to me as they are to the observer.
After all, every garden needs rain.
Would It Look Like This?
If flowers flew like birds, would it look like this?
In the beginning, middle, and end, throughout the ever-changing seasons, be you.
As we embrace our differences, I hope we embrace our personal uniqueness and share it.
Sending much love and friendship, from my little garden plot in this life to yours.
We stretch Sunday evening just enough to permit a late get-together, at the end of a busy weekend. Heloise arrives with a gorgeous gift in tow, a beautiful, handmade prayer shawl.
I am in awe of her talents.
The company was better than the food, and more of a dessert served throughout dinner.
I thank her, again, just before we bid goodbyes.
"Until next time," we say.
Hands push the chairs, under the table, and we weave our way from the outside patio to the front door. We share the sidewalk and closing conversation, all the while the walk seems shorter than when we arrived. We reach the corner. She goes left, and we watch her dissolve into her car. That's our cue to go right and disappear in ours.
Eric gives my hand a tighter squeeze and the starlit sky watches over us, once again, as we honor and appreciate the endearing friends with which we share this life.
That was three days ago.
Today, I am under cover of a handmade gift from Heloise.
It is in this exchange of these tender pockets of time when love and kindness reveal.
I hope you find the magic in your moments like these.
Have a wonderful Wednesday, friends.
Foretelling a more delicate time,
They admit she is a tender soothsayer.
Dressing in scattered flora and age-old linen,
Foreknowing of brighter days,
Reminding future moods of melancholia,
Waste not our time, in your darkness, For our spirits are bright.
Have a radiant and inspiring day, my friends.
For my love of photography and writing, I am offering this sharing to you this morning.
Have a wonderful beginning to your Wednesday.
I'm leaving for Princeton and picking up an art piece at the print shop.
Sending much love and endless inspiration to you and yours,
Like an apron-wearing baker, I flour up the kitchen countertop and become the occasional Biscuiteer.
I love to bake biscuits.
I swing open the cupboard door, and with my right hand, I claim an apron. With a pullover and gentle tie of two apparently long strings, I am safely enveloped in linen.
I break away to preheat the oven to 425 degrees.
2 cups self-rising flour
1/3 cup shortening
1/2 teaspoonful salt
3/4 cup milk or buttermilk (your choice)
(butter to slice and place on each biscuit prior to baking)
Add flour and salt in a medium crock.
Cut in shortening.
Make a small whole in the center of the flour/salt and add milk. Gently combine (not too much handling, we want flaky biscuits, smiling).
Turn biscuit dough onto lightly floured countertop, press with hands until desired thickness is achieved (approximately 1 inch). Cut as many biscuits as your dough yields.
Place on baking stone/sheet.
Add a butter pat to the top of each biscuit.
Bake for 14 minutes or until golden brown.
You see, long ago, my mother taught me the magic of baking biscuits. She was what I would affectionately call a Biscuiteer.
It isn't just baking a batch of biscuits. This is particularly the case, as I grow older and have a better understanding of the importance of simple acts of kindness.
It is learning how to bake, alongside a loved one.
It is the buttery aromas of sustenance baking in the oven and filling the house with scents of hearty biscuits.
Num, num, and num!
Perhaps it is the anticipation of butter dripping off the edges before it reaches your lips? It's possible that it is a gentle combination of all of these simple things that makes baking biscuits such a treat.
I hope you give the recipe a try and invite a loved one to share the experience
Happy biscuit baking!
All my love,