twice in my lifetime

What we had been waiting for, but never thought would come....

Since last Thursday we had been waiting for the forecasted snow. The weather people were giddy over the possibility, the newspapers ran front page articles, and everyone waited with anticipation. We had a right to be so geeky about the possibility of snow since the last time we experienced it was 1976. I was SIX people...a first grader who only saw the snow but maybe once a year, if that. (I still only see the snow but maybe once a year, if that.) Anyway, we listened to the rain pound on our windows and watched the temperatures drop and then....the skies cleared. It was such a let down.

So imagine my wonderment on Saturday as we were crossing over the freeway to enter onto the northbound on-ramp when I looked southward and saw a funky wall of a cloud, a mile south, hovering over a neighboring town. I discussed this odd cloud with my husband and kids as we headed onto the northbound entrance but dismissed my intuition that the cloud could be full of snow. (Like, who am I, a west coast California girl, to be an expert on snow clouds?!) 

After a minute or two of indecisiveness I asked the hubby to turn around and head south. And so he did. We followed the cloud to a historic county park that I walk at nearly every day. It's the beautiful place where I took Bean's bday photos. A place where I witness the explosion of California poppies, where I walk among the ancient oak trees and watch ranchers shuffle cows. A place where I have seen wild boar shuffling in the mud, listened to the spring song of the birds, and watched field grass sprout up and dry up every spring/summer.

We entered the parking lot and listened as the raindrops on our windshield fell silent. Heavy drops of snow littered the sky and dusted the landscape. We tumbled out of our car, totally unprepared for snow, but so excited to be witnessing the rare phenomenon. (We were so excited I left my car door open and hubby left the car running!) A few minutes later the entire town had come to witness the second arrival of snow in thirty five years.

And I did not have my camera.
I was heart sick.

Thank the good Lord for my hubby's iPhone. Most importantly, thank you to my hubby for his willingness to hand it over to me, an iPhone camera rookie, who was handling it in the wet snow. Because of his sacrificial releasing of his "baby" over to me, I was able to find joy in documenting this moment for my kids. After returning it to him, he captured this video below.

A few disclaimers before watching....
Please do not judge my mothering skills based on what my son is wearing. (I would like to note that he had a sweatshirt in the car but didn't want to put it on.) I, also, was totally unprepared to be on camera. (i.e., no makeup, better outfit, etc.)  What you are witnessing is a very real moment in our family life: my son, completely dressed inappropriately for the weather, and me totally without make up, or my hair combed. I am the quintessential housewife most of the time, thank you. (I don't know, maybe there's a reality tv show in there somewhere?)

Anyway, enjoy...

And that's all. Yippy for snow!
Okay, I'm over it. I'm much more of a California west coast weather kinda girl.
(I guess I should rethink my dreams of living in the pacific north west?)

i am a believer

You guys. There is a God. Just like Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster, Sibling Love has eluded me many o'times. (Not that I've ever tried to look for Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster but I needed a good dramatic comparison.) BUT, no longer. Let it be documented here that IT actually exists and I have captured it. It took a mighty act of God to bring them together (and a good dose of guilt, pleading, and bribing), but it happened.

Take a good long look, because you might not see it ever again here on this blog. 

That is all I have to say.

underneath

The weather on this morning was crazy beautiful, the kind that makes you stop and pause and stand in awe. While I stood on the shoreline with my father and my kids, who were preparing their fishing poles with chunky worms, my son commented on the glass-like surface of the lake and how it seemed that we were looking at an alternate underneath world just like our own.

Yes, so it seemed.

Later I imagined the underneath world becoming visible to us top-dwellers as the thin veil of water momentarily glassed over in the stillness of the air. With no soft breeze to disturb our view, we could briefly glimpse into the world below: the clouds were stirring, the sun was making its brief appearance, and solitary birds traveled across the hazy winter sky.

I know that somewhere on a nearby shore, four figures stood on the water's edge with their fishing poles and camera and waved a silent greeting.

And we waved back.

learning to ride

My two children are now eleven and eight. They are well mannered, well adjusted, sweet and loving kids that I love more than words can hold.  

Why then, am I still surprised when I feel as if I am still helping them ride without training wheels?

No, you cannot have a second bowl of ice cream. You'll barf.

No you cannot light a fire in the back yard.

Of course there are holes in your socks, you wear them outside.

No, you cannot have three pieces of bubble gum in your mouth at one time.

Please don't use the toilet paper for a craft project while you are doing your business in there. 

When you stink, that's a good excuse for a shower.

Of course you have to brush your teeth before bed.

No, I will not clean up that mess you made, the one you promised you would clean up.

Is it too difficult to throw the gum wrapper away, the one that is sitting on the counter right above the garbage?

Your future girl/boyfriend might not appreciate you eating with your mouth open.

Please also take time to swallow your food before shoveling another bite.

For Pete's sake, have a little salad with your Ranch dressing.

We do not put our dirty bare feet on people's pillows. It's just simple bediquette.

When we are in Target, people do not enjoy watching you pester each other.

No you cannot have dessert after breakfast.

Midnight is not an acceptable school night bed time.

When you have a big test at school the next morning, asking me to help you study while you are on your way to bed is not "thinking ahead".

Contrary to your belief, money does not grow on trees.

A sweatshirt might be appropriate in this winter, stormy weather. 

Yes, flushing the toilet after you use it is the appropriate next step.

Yep, when you wear your new shoes in the mud and rain they will get....muddy and wet.

Eating a burrito with red hot sauce while wearing your white karate uniform is probably not a good idea.

Barbie's hair will not grow back when you cut it.

No, you will not find a Playstation 3 on ebay for $1.

I'm sorry sweetie, Marshmallow Land does not exist.

Most adults do not enjoy their children's whining so I do not know why you think we do.

Let me tell you one more time why interrupting is annoying. 

If you see someone, like your mom, on the phone, this is not the time to pester your sibling.

When someone is using the bathroom, we leave him or her alone.

Though I jest, I know this is my work as a parent, to guide them into adulthood.  I work hard not to project my adult sensibilities upon them as if they should already know this stuff. Even though sometimes I am flabbergasted that they do not always seem to get the obvious,  I have had to catch myself a million and one times to not berate them for their lack of common sense. It is a daily practice in exercising mature love and patience.

Yes, sometimes I feel as if I am still in the process of shedding my own training wheels all the while trying to assist my children with removing theirs.

(Though I promise I will not bug you if you are using the toilet.)

a blessed receiver

A while back our family took a day trip up past San Francisco to a beautiful coastal park preserve. On our way we passed this old stranded boat and I made my family promise that on our way back we would stop because I wanted to take some pictures of it, mainly because I knew that I would not return this way for a long time.

Our day went later than we expected so when we finally drove by the boat I had seconds to jump out, run down the path and quickly try to grab some photographs. My kids were staaaaaarving, the temperature had dropped so it was freeeeeezing, and the sun had already set so I had to bump up my ISO, aaaaaand....every picture I took of the boat, at every angle, was just flat and uninspiring.

I am posting this picture above because you need an example. Seriously, I am not fishing for compliments. You can all agree that is just an ok picture. I really do not care if I never look at it again. The sky was bald and uninteresting. Bleh. I had just missed the light. Bleh. And it is not really sharp due to the fact that I had to open up my aperture to its widest to let in more light. Bleh.

I finally just gave up and turned to escort Bean back to the car. (She had insisted on coming with me even though she was cold and starving.) As we turned to go she could sense my disappointment and offered to me her beautiful face for a picture.

Let this be a lesson, yet again, to myself:

Sometimes the photo that needs to be taken is the one I have yet to see. 

More than once this truth has hit me as I have embarked on a mission with my camera. As I bump and push against the confines of my expectations I almost always discover that I am holding on too tightly to the images I see in my mind. This struggle is not wrong, it is meant to be a valuable lesson, only if and when I am willing to let go and let the images come to me. My most cherished photos are when I have relaxed into the understanding that the most beautiful photos, in my opinion, are the ones that unfold like a gift. 

I am just the blessed receiver. 

Here's to letting go...

T

80/20

As I write it is 10pm Thursday night. I am still in my pj's and I have not brushed my teeth yet today. I have scrubbed two toilets and three sinks, folded a mountain (and I mean a mountain) of laundry, emptied the dish washer, loaded the dish washer, cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the counters, picked up the house, vacuumed the entire upstairs, and did a safety precaution lice comb-through on my daughter. The day before that was pretty much the same except for that I worked on and completed our taxes.

This was not exactly what I had planned on doing these past two days, but such is life when your daughter comes to you both mornings telling you that she does not feel well and nods an affirmative when you ask her if she wants to stay home. You drop your agenda and let her stay home even though you know that she is really not sick sick and that she could probably go to school. (No fever, not even a stuffy nose, just a little cough.)

Sometimes motherhood is a path of sacrifices. We drop what we are doing for the sake of the needs of our children. We do it out of love. And we do it because sometimes there is no other choice. 

My letting her stay home was a decision based on the fact that she never misses school. She is hardly ever sick and so I think staying home was a treat for her, even though I made her do her homework and read. Honestly though, I wasn't a very nurturing mother for her in the last couple of days.  I found myself just "off". Short. Bleh. I think I fell short of her expectations of what it might look like to be home and "sick" and have your mother nurture you around the clock. My lack of energy had nothing to do with being stuck at home. (I kinda like being home.) It had everything to do with the fact that the last two weeks have been a bit packed with stuff and "to-do's" and I have hit my introverted limit. I am wise enough now to recognize this and, yes sir, I have hit my limit. I have nothing left to give. Maybe you are an introvert and you kind of know what I mean?

Anyway, I was reminded of something my good friend used to remind me of when I was a new mother. She used to tell me, "Tracey, you are an amazing mom 80% of the time. The other 20% is reserved for the not-so-amazing. Focus on the 80%."

Bean fell apart before bed time tonight, as she often does. She has always worn her exhaustion on her sleeve. I braided her damp hair, and tucked her in bed and read out of the Bible. I never remember to do this for her, read the Bible to her. (Part of that 20%.) But this night I heard a voice inside say, Psalm 23, so I opened up the book, laid it on her pillow in the dim light of her room, and read...

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, 

he leads me beside quiet waters, 

he restores my soul.

Not exactly sure sometimes what this verse exactly looks like, but I think this was meant for the both of us tonight.

For Bean I think it looked like her mom rubbing her soft, warm back, singing her to sleep, giving her some smooches. A divine restoration expressed through the loving touch of her mother. In return, I felt  a surge of inexplicable love for her rush through my veins. Despite my exhaustion, I was reminded of that truth that she is an amazing creation...a soul worthy of the best kind of love I can give.

So for me, I think that divine restoration looks like a day or two of nothing. And I know that "nothing" will not appear out of nowhere. I need to make some choices that will help me to refuel: maybe a good book, listening to the rain, or a walk, or frequent daydreaming? What ever it is, I know I want to live in that 80% of amazing motherhood.

Happy weekend. :)

xoxo
T

he plays the ukulele

You may remember this dashing young man from a previous post. He was rockin' a black pea coat in some cool black and white photos that, in his father's words, had a flavor of Jason Bourne to them. (Totally! Google an image of "Jason Bourne in a pea coat")  Today, however, let me show you another side......

Girls, he plays the ukulele.

And he played on the varsity football team.
(Get this guy his own television series!)

Aaaaand, he has a girlfriend.

While I was enjoying the backdrop of an awesome blue-tiled gymnasium wall, his girlfriend arrived. 

I totally captured the moment (below) when he spotted her walking towards him. Made me smile.

Isn't that sweet? I offered to take a picture of the two of them but she declined (wearing sweats, no make-up on, you know, totally beautiful, but whatever). So this was the closest thing I could get to a photo of her...

Though I tease, I really enjoyed his good, sweet nature, and the fact that he was willing to stand around and have his picture taken, with Mom and me in the background chatting and making him laugh as if this was what every senior boy did on a Saturday morning. It made the time fly.

I was going to end the post here but then I felt the need to say something about these...

Friends, he showed up to his photo shoot in these slippers. At first I thought... 

Hey, come comfy and ready to roll--I like your style.

But then I was educated. 

This is the new, hip thing to wear, not just with your pj's or sweats at home after work, but also when you leave your home. You guys, this is for real. You wear them all of the time, with whatever you are wearing and wherever you are going.

You get out of bed pull on your pants, slip on your cheap-o Target slips and then cast not one look at your abandoned, lonely shoes in the corner. Shoes are a thing of the past. Now, because your slippers have the seal of approval by the highly influential teenage demographic that has sanctioned these as street and fashion worthy, you can, and you do, wear your slippers to the grocery store, or to the mall, or the football game, or a photo shoot. Then, when you return home, you revel in the fact that you do not have to kick off your shoes, because hey, you don't have your shoes on, you already have your slippers on! And, when they are totally gross with street crud and whatever else they have picked up, you just toss them in the garbage, head on over to Target, and hope they have your size.

Friends, is that convenient or what?

I was so amused I had to grab a shot of them. Because some day I want Mr. Brown to look back and remember his youth. Just like I look back on pictures of myself in high school with sky-high, hair-sprayed bangs. Yeah, I thought they were cool back then too. 

What I want to say to Mr. Brown is...

You cannot go wrong with the classics. Stick with the black pea coat.  

Am I right, or am I right?

finding you

Call me weird, but my favorite perspective to use for composing a shot is one that looks as if the scene was captured from the view of a silent, invisible observer. Like a small creature following with curiosity, taking in the scene from an unseen vantage point. Not to seem creepy or anything, it's just a vantage point that renders something more to me. Hard to put my finger on it. (Perhaps you can articulate it better, or differently?)

Anyway, for example, the photo above....that little creature (me) was crouched at the gate peering into the arena watching the horses make wide dusty trails along the inside of the fence. She (the little creature) was happy to observe and remain invisible till the photo she saw in her mind's eye actually came to be.

The picture below... the small creature appeared on the road long after the horses and riders had passed. She silently knelt in the dirt and captured their retreat as if Time was caught lingering along the road still holding the previous moment. 

I only share this because a couple of days ago someone asked me what camera I used because, in her words, I take such great pictures. The question did not irritate me at all, it just simply revealed a common misconception about photography. There are a gazillion people out there in photo-land that have spoken to this issue, so this is not new with me, but I can certainly attest to the truthfulness of the fact that:

YOU are the creator of a good photograph, not the camera.

YOU are the soul and spirit behind an image that speaks more loudly than the pixels or film upon which it is formed.

I believe this is true for any and all forms of creativity and expression and I only humbly speak from my own experience when I tell you that to try and attain that beauty from your art by any other road, other than the one that leads from your own heart, is less than satisfying. Really, it is. You might be successful, you might even be good, but you are lying to yourself and ultimately short changing yourself. 

I have to remind myself of this almost every day. It is the only place I have found peace in what I create. 

Hope this encourages you to find the YOU behind your art.

love: beach

True, it is Valentines Day, but instead of doing a post on l.o.v.e., I thought I would show some of my weekend love. The weather these past few days has been amazing, spring-like, gorgeous. Makes me love where I live, and thankful for those spontaneous trips to the coast. Truly, this is one of my most favorite places to be, especially with those that I love.

My favorite picture....

And then the sun went down and I snapped a few more in the remaining light. These two of my son were pretty much the only ones I caught of him. And of course they are images I have captured over and over again in his eleven years of life. Is there a boy out there who does not find joy in throwing wet muddy sand?

Once the sun set, the temp dropped immediately and Bean snagged her daddy's sweatshirt. I was so happy to catch her in this last light. She is so good to me in giving me a moment to snap her picture. Love you Bean.

My Valentine's wish for you blogger friend...that you may know honest love and give honest love, not just on this day, but all of the others before and after.  You are worth more than you can comprehend.
Worthy of more love than all of the oceans can hold, and then some.

xoxo
t

on the bus

I took these pictures a few weeks ago when we took a day trip up the coast. When I came upon them yesterday I stopped to look at them as they said something to me that I needed to hear.

I remember the moment when Bean and I shared the front row of the big tour bus on our way back from visiting a light house. She was enjoying her ride and her bubble gum and I was enjoying watching her enjoy her ride and bubble gum. The light outside of the bus was beautiful and golden and it bounced in and out of our seats as we twisted and turned down the hillside.

I remember the overwhelming feeling of soaking up the goodness of the moment, not just of the time that we were sharing but of the goodness of the light and the artful moment that was playing out before me. I sat my camera on my lap and silently aimed up at her and clicked away "framing" the scene with a blind but hopeful eye.

Looking at these pictures speaks an affirmation to my heart that I would rather capture a million of these oddly imperfect yet perfect shots instead of the perfectly created, and often contrived, ones. Do not get me wrong, the created artful photos are beautiful and fun but they do not inspire or excite my desire to pick up my camera. This is proof of the fact that everyone is wired differently to create. I have photographer friends that are amazing at creating artful moments and scenes with passion and zeal. I watch them with awe and admiration, yet find no real desire to be like them. (Crazy, but I used to feel odd about this.)

Instead, I am thrilled when I stumble upon artful moments and would rather choose to seek after and capture them, rather than create them. To me, those moments and the photos that hold them, speak loudly to the part of me that has always sought after authenticity and realness not only in my photographic journey but in my life's journey as well.

In the art world this falls under the category of finding your own voice. That journey is a long one as it takes some serious listening and struggling and departing from the easy route of imitating, which we all fall prey to when we are first exercising our creative muscles. But, from my experience, it is a struggle worth having.

As I looked at these snapshots of Bean on the bus I was reminded of all of this. Reminded of who I have discovered myself to be as a photographer and why I don't really want to be anything else.