my baby's birthday

Happy Birthday, Val! You are my precious daughter and I am grateful for the gift of you every day!

Tumtum

evergreen sentinels guard my untrod path through sunshine and shadow

9 inches of snow fell last Wednesday at "the rock" leaving a winter wonderland version for us to enjoy on our almost daily walks. The first walk after the snowfall was especially magical, as the fading sun cast it's golden light on the rock tips and distant trees. The cold preserved the snow for a Sunday cross country skiiing adventure with Val and friends.

Bob made lots of progress on the house, with mom's room and bathroom nearing completion. Amber painted the ceilings and finished up "her" room. Now, back in Iowa, Amber is supposed to finish up getting rid of "stuff". Bob stayed in Washington to get a bit more done on his projects before heading east to help out.

cross country

and I followed the solitatary trail until it came to an end

2007 started with fresh snow and a chance to engage in a brief but delightful cross country skiiing experience! I took just a few photos, focusing more on the beauty of the sun on snow, water and ice. Feeling very alone in the quiet, this little animal trail caught my attention, reminding me visually that solitary paths do not go on forever.

Cross country is also an apt descriptor for this new phase in my life. I fly to Spokane Saturday, starting the next phase of our move to Washington state. I'll be working with Bob to make sure mom's room is ready, then back here to finally pack up and move out. Lots of work! Lots of hopes!

in our lifetime

hell feeezes over only to find many waters cannot quench love

This photo of Val and Tony taken shortly before their wedding, was on the camera's memory card when I downloaded the first of the geese pictures, so I claim it as mine! I intended to transfer a very small image and have it floating under the ice when I did an early "black and white" ice assignment, but got this close-up composition. Being at a loss for words, I quickly typed in two cliches, only to discover they contained the requisite 17 syllables for the Ginsberg Sentence part of the assignment. (Some things just go together!)

On this last day of 2006, I would like to celebrate the blessings of all couples who found love that endured to the end of this year. The miracle of love actually is a miracle of life, as I have been very aware this holiday season, experiencing the empty spaces of lost love in my life. Enjoy what you have, treasure it, the durability is as important as the magic!
And may the blessings of love capture us anew in 2007!

the shining moment

transparently clinging, I extend this moment of freedom to shine

As the sun warmed and melted the ice, leaves and rocks were freed from their temporary prisons, yet this leaf appeared to hold on. Preferring it's moment in the sun, to the free-fall into waiting water and rocks.

This second Ginsberg sentence took me a week to figure out. The photo was simple with the rich textures and colors of water ice and stone, but how to share that feeling of clinging to the shining moment? Especially in the face of the cold wet (at best) future. Fortunately we rarely see our futures as clearly. Still would we be wise to pause and reflect the light that comes our way?

frozen in memory

strangely this lifeless husk shines anew in shattered crystal memory

My personal coach and artistic critic, Val, suggests that I use the Ginsberg Sentence to sharpen my writing. I combine this 17 syllable sentence with another (failed) attempt at a black and white photo.

Memory is a fact of nature. Correction: "selective memory" is a fact of nature. Fossils tease us with exciting bits of memory, obscuring more than they reveal. This leaf, encased in ice, shining again in winter, as it shone in the fall sun, showcases the best of the past season. Yet most of the leaves have not been saved, they are crumbled, buried, on their way to compost, as this leaf will be when the ice gives up it's hold.

Still we treasure the beauty, save up the golden moments, until we, too, give up our hold.

the fires of the fall

as the ice layers form, they think to put out the fires of the fall

I tried to do my assignment. Went back to the ice image and started working in black and white. Then I just had to see what happend if I layered the ice image on top of this wonderful photo of shore fires created by taking a long exposure of Frank Starr Park during an electrical storm the night Jennifer and Charlie got married.