I'm sipping my coffee, meandering through blogs, enjoying the gift of time.
Sandy's here, not yet in "her full glory," but enough to make her presence known.
One very wet Australian shepherd sleeps in the "drying room," hoping not to forever resemble a sopping canine sponge.
I'm beginning to process my style - clean graphic shapes, repetition, circles.
Rust appeals, as does things that carry a history. Not so much vintage; you know the type...pointy hats, soft dreamy images, and the like.
Not that there's anything wrong with any of that; it just doesn't grab me. Not enough texture? Not sure, as this is all just beginning to gel in my mind.
I'll be working more on this today; it's something I can do whether the power remains on or not. Well, as long as it's daylight, at any rate! It's rather ironic that I chose this image, of a wheel and gears that no longer turn, when the ones in my mind seem to be going full blast. I do think that the universe enjoys a good joke now and then.
I'm planning on meandering through most of my day, working on assignments for Lesley Riley's "Compose Yourself" class, editing some photos, and reading.
So many cars outside, making me grateful that I don't need to be out and about in this mess.
So, Sandy, here's what I want to say: I know you're going to create an unfathomable mess. I know you're going to flood the East Coast and do incrediable damage. I know all this, but right now, you've given me the gift of some time, and for this gift, thank you.
Loose objects with the potential of becoming flying hazards have been safely stowed in the shed.
The last gallons of water to be found in the DC metro area reside in a corner of my dining room.
Crackers also seem to be a scarce commodity!
All that's left now is to wait for Sandy to arrive, and she's steadily making progress our way.
Spotted these fine fellows, oblingingly posing for Focus 52's, "All in a Row," in Old Town Alexandria, VA, yesterday afternoon. Armed with my husband's back as a human tripod, and my telephoto lens, I snapped away.
The original shots are pretty "blah." Black birds against a gray sky hold very little excitement, but with a bit of texturizing, pretty cool...kind of a cross between spooky and vintage.
Now, off to do some lesson plans, on the off chance, I do find myself in school tomorrow! Report card entries need to be finished up as well.
Cobble stone, rusty bits, whispers of the "War Between the States."
Shafts of sunlight dancing through the ruins.
The juxtapostion of a soft green vine against a metal gear.
EB and Kim, there are tons of rusty bits lying about - You'd be in heaven.
I took well over a 100 photos. Some hit the recyling bin immediately, since I was forcing myself off the "automatic" settings. As I moved from light to shadow and back again, I realized that I have so much to learn about fstops, aperatures, and the like.
Phil sat patiently as I clambered over rocks and poked my head through openings, trying to get an even better shot. God bless the man!
I wish we had more time.
Time to wander the hiking trails.
Time to go back again and again, to see the light dance and change.
Time to take even more photos and to learn my camera.
But, lesson plans and such kept hollering to be done, so back home we went.
And, I've got tons of photos to wander through, edit, and imagine how it can all play out in my art.
And, play, I will.
And, I can promise you, I'll go meandering again and again!
Driving home last night, we watched the dark gray clouds pile onto each other, forming a solid oppressive blanket across the sky.
How long would it be until we needed to close the window?
Not long as it turned out, and within just minutes of home, the rain tumbled down, gathering momentum, until I groaned, and wondered why it couldn't have waited just a few minutes longer.
Even as I scrambled out the car door and hurried up the walk, I knew I'd be taking out the camera.
Run, run, run, trying to dodge most of the drops.
Tossing down my school bags, looking up to see the most glorious light coming through our tiny narrow window.
I love tiny bottles, especially those with a hint of color. The tallest of these stands no more than 6 inches high, the smalles about 3. Insignificant most days...I barely notice them.
Yesterday, though, the radiated with the soft light coming through them. No time for the tripod, the light was fleeting. I knelt on our bed and snapped quickly, struggling with the focus, and finally remembering how to shift it out of the center, so the bottles themselves would be in focus. (Hint to self: practice this!)
I could hear my dad's voice, "It's all about the light." He'd go on and on about the light, and for the longest time, I just didn't get it - not the bit about the light, or shutter speed, or anything else. I was a point, shoot, click kinda gal, who always wondered why the photos didn't capture what I saw. I'm really wishing now that I could let dad know, that I'm beginning to "get it."
I had to wait out the rain, constantly checking to see if it had stopped, and hoping that it would before the light faded.
Mother Nature cooperated; I still had to dodge the drops falling from the tree branches, and I had to deal with wet jeans resulting from kneeling on a sodden lawn. Worth it? You bet!
Have you read A Field Guide to Now by Christina Rosalie? I am simply inhaling this book, not only for its message, but for the stunningly beautiful writing. Christina's words capture you, draw you in, and leave you aching for more.
It's not so much the typical "self-help" book, since so much of it is her own story...and don't we all need to tell our stories? But the message(s) can't be denied, and one that rings true for me is to "just show up." What we want doesn't come on a wing and a prayer. We've got to - absolutely got to - show up and do the work, a message that I'm hearing from so many sources, including the awesome Lesley Riley. And, so, the universe is once again, giving me a much needed kick in the pants. I'm dusting off old ideas/projects. I'm sitting my extremely tired self down into the chair and showing up, getting something done. To quote Leslie, I'm letting go of perfection, that endlessly moving target.
So, for just a bit today, I reclaimed some "me time." I ventured outside at school, after several seemingly endless meetings and enjoyed the sunshine and leaves. I shot photo after photo, getting some "possibles" and some "dump this into the recycle bin right now" ones. And, then I gave myself some permission to play with one of the shots.
Two wonderful women in my life, in very different ways mind you, but both of them giving me a way to reclaim my creativity and to do something with it. What a gift!