tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53752656174903446962024-03-13T10:17:06.676-07:00Pen and ViewUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger646125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-18260351194501266412012-09-19T14:19:00.002-07:002012-09-19T14:19:35.100-07:00new spacePlease visit me in my new space at <a href="http://tmorrisphotography.com/">tmorrisphotography.com</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-50857263939045589322011-08-01T15:29:00.000-07:002011-08-01T15:29:59.043-07:00a new chapter...My dear blogging friends,<br />
<br />
After two and a half years of blogging in this space, I am picking up and moving on to a new corner of the internet. (You can <a href="http://www.tmorrisphotography.com/">click here</a> if you want to bypass my long Pen and View good bye letter.) Funny how happy/sad I am about this move. Actually, it's not surprising to me. I am what I call a "slow transitioner". I love to dream about the future, yet I am quite sentimental about change. I tend to turn the page to the next chapter with much thought, reflection, grieving. <br />
<br />
When I started this blog it was for two reasons: to document our family life in photos and words, and to improve upon my camera skills. Frankly, I have never liked the name of this blog (I picked it in a rush to just get going with my blog idea) but it grew to settle on me in a comforting sort of way. This is where I penned my thoughts, documented the photographic life of my last few years. It is a journal I will keep forever.<br />
<br />
But you see, over a year ago I purchased a new photo space (see, I dream about my future!) in an effort to move towards what I thought I should be, and then Life happened, like happened <i>hard</i>. I had made some plans but I had no emotional space to deal with pursuing anything but the day in front of me, leaving my dreams and plans to sit on the back burner of my heart. I think you can relate.<br />
<br />
But as we all know, when Life happens, we cannot assume that we are wasting time/purpose/energy. Life is never wasted; there is always some purpose to the spinning, stalling, struggling of our present moments.<br />
<br />
I read this line the other day in Abraham Verghese's book Cutting for Stone:<i> Life: you live it forward, and understand it backwards. </i>How very true this has been for me.<i> </i><i><br />
</i><br />
<br />
In the past year I have wrestled with myself quite a bit, much of it over what direction I wanted to take in regards to my photography, how I enjoy creating, and what I should "do" with all of it. I realize now that the last year was good in its hardness because it prevented me from making rash decisions about how I should proceed. It also made me reflect on why I thought I should be "doing" anything in the first place. (Why are we so plagued with futuristic living and doing? Is it to settle the anxiety over not being enough in the now?) <br />
<br />
So why "do" now? While I believe I have settled a bit into knowing my creative self better, I have sensed in the past two months what I can only describe as a slow "uprooting" in my heart. This feeling of the final words being written on the previous chapter. The bubble (no, the boil) of desire to get a move-on to begin writing the words on the next one. I think this feeling has more to do with my entire life--my family, our direction--than just my own creative pursuits. <br />
<br />
I do not want to be Pen and View anymore. I want to be Me. And I think it's now time to get Me settled onto the fresh new page of the chapter because I think more is on the Life horizon.<br />
<br />
With that all said, my blogging friends, please join me over in my new space. It is not drastically different than this one here, as I am a simplistic girl at heart, so I hope you like it.<br />
<br />
But before you go, I want to say thank you all for the love you have deposited here over the last few years. It has meant more to me than you know. <br />
<br />
Off to begin writing the new words on the fresh blank page...<br />
<br />
You can follow me at: <a href="http://tmorrisphotography.com/">tmorrisphotography.com</a> <br />
<br />
t<br />
<br />
p.s. I decided to leave Pen and View up for the time being until I figure out how to archive it to a safe place. And, it's a good reminder for me of what growth looks like when I am feeling stuck in the present. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-26379764307184796082011-07-18T00:01:00.000-07:002011-07-18T00:01:05.338-07:00solitary perch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5937558369_73084787e8_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5937558369_73084787e8_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Friends,<br />
<br />
I am saying a short and tiny goodbye today. Gonna wade out to that sunny warm rock and perch myself upon it and take a summer breather from the blogging. I have some other "things" that need my attention: other photo stuff, family activities, and my own personal care. All good stuff, just listening to the whisper in my ear that is telling me to take a little blog vacation.<br />
<br />
I will be back August 1st.<br />
<br />
Until then,<br />
t<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/5937559207_d0ce9e5110_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/5937559207_d0ce9e5110_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
p.s. One of my favorite things this summer has been to photograph Bean in her pink hat. I bought this pink hat for her several years ago and she has finally "owned" it. Makes me smile. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-24682953223181055712011-07-15T00:01:00.000-07:002011-07-15T00:01:02.919-07:00summer love: campfire love<iframe frameborder="0" height="352" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/26414885?byline=0&portrait=0&color=ff9933" width="625"></iframe><br />
<br />
Learning to love my video feature on my camera. In my other life I am a cinematographer.<br />
<br />
I love that you can hear the adults discussing a crossword problem in the background. Whenever we go camping we find ourselves around the campfire with a good crossword.<br />
<br />
Bean is obsessed with smores. It is her reason for living when the campfire is lit. I cannot even eat my dinner in peace because of her impatience.<br />
<br />
I also feel the need to clarify that the sassy girl she is channeling is not her norm. She only surfaces whenever the camera is in her face. Well, maybe she comes out more often. Lord help me. If you listen carefully you can hear my muffled guffaw.<br />
<br />
Anyway...<br />
<br />
Summer for us = one good camping trip complete with smores and crosswords. (Even if Queen Sass emerges around the campfire.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6128/5937013299_d9f2baf7ce_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6128/5937013299_d9f2baf7ce_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-10596143518978883512011-07-13T22:51:00.000-07:002011-07-14T08:39:06.403-07:00a little affirmation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5072/5908390843_8db456ace6_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5072/5908390843_8db456ace6_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6025/5908390331_d400b09c19_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6025/5908390331_d400b09c19_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6018/5908390603_418daaa43b_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6018/5908390603_418daaa43b_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5280/5908390067_70cedf8b04_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5280/5908390067_70cedf8b04_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5276/5908391407_67714ba2dc_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5276/5908391407_67714ba2dc_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Excavate the depths of my photo files and you will find that most of them are of children.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love children.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love to capture their littleness. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love to capture them unaware, just inhabiting their space.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love to capture their profiles.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love to capture their goofy sides.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love to capture my reflection in their eyes.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love to capture the proof of their infinite beauty and uniqueness. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So is it any wonder that I am forever trying to throw my photographic arms around them?</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This past week my <a href="http://www.bigpictureclasses.com/pictureinspiration.php">Picture Inspiration</a> assignment was to do a little excavation, to look back at my assignments and show you all what I have discovered about myself through my images.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This assignment was more of an affirmation than a discovery. (Is this really a surprise?)</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So today I am showing you what continues to be an affirming, resounding, "yes" in my creative heart: given the choice between a flower, a landscape, a family, a wedding, a baby, or a child, my photographic heart will always draw nearest to the face of a child.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am a magnet, drawn by the force of their innocence, and charm, uniqueness, and wonder in an unquenchable thirst to capture their worth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
<a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5034/5908949088_6d122ff58e_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5034/5908949088_6d122ff58e_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(This is my "niece". She is a ham. A close second to my Bean who is her competitor. She was insistent on me photographing her "O" mouth. So I made sure to get that for her.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-8790178571388292992011-07-12T00:01:00.001-07:002011-07-12T08:43:46.761-07:00still not yet...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5038/5903897017_169ed79466_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5038/5903897017_169ed79466_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
After yesterday's post I stumbled across these two photographs...photos that were taken by my mother when we went down to Santa Barbara for a little girls trip a couple of weeks ago.<br />
<br />
I am so glad I shoved the camera into my mom's hands and told her, with much encouragement, that yes she could take a good picture. There was a brief moment that my belief in her wavered when I had to show her a couple of times where the shutter release button was located, and she fumbled to hold the heavy camera. But she did it. She actually did it.<br />
<br />
And so as I reflect back upon the post like yesterday's, in which I reveal the slightly elevating panic I am feeling over the growth and loss of my little Bean, I see these pictures...<br />
<br />
...and I cry.<br />
<br />
...and I melt.<br />
<br />
Now I know what it means when others say to their children, <i>you will always be my little girl.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
She will forever be my Bean. I know I will always see traces of her underneath her skin, in her eyes, and in the way she loves me.<br />
<br />
I cannot thank my mother enough for taking these pictures.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-80633439652373498812011-07-11T00:01:00.000-07:002011-07-11T00:01:00.456-07:00not yet...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5022/5872808837_b8da9b7405_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5022/5872808837_b8da9b7405_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Someday she will be too old to play at the park. <br />
But that someday is not quite yet.<br />
I know it's soon, because there is another person emerging from the skin of her little girlness.<br />
This new girl is a bit more opinionated, more--shall we say--sassy, more self conscious.<br />
I need a manual.<br />
I need an orientation week like they have at school.<br />
I need a laser gun that will freeze time.<br />
I need to breathe in, breathe out.<br />
<br />
I am not ready for this.<br />
How do you let go of your little girl?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3218/5872809369_fa9e2d9869_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3218/5872809369_fa9e2d9869_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-27593725594780218062011-07-08T00:01:00.000-07:002011-07-08T00:01:01.291-07:00friday summer love: summer camp's smelly success<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5232/5896407512_08b1340861_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5232/5896407512_08b1340861_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
We picked him up on Sunday after a week away from us at summer camp.<br />
He and his buddy didn't shower, brush teeth, change underwear.<br />
He had a blast.<br />
You cannot imagine what it was like for me to open his duffle bag in the laundry room<br />
and be greeted with the smell.<br />
I actually chuckled.<br />
Apparently he wasn't trying to impress any of the girls.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-23701556424250522562011-07-07T06:00:00.000-07:002011-07-07T06:00:05.492-07:00linked: hope<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6038/5896387480_643d3d9317_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6038/5896387480_643d3d9317_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Saturday evening I sat out in the setting sun and picked at a sea of never ending weeds. My hands were caked with dirt and the stain of green, so much so that I was surprised at how sore and tender they were the day after. In the middle of my dirty work, the neighbor's sprinklers spurted to life. Because I live in a wind tunnel, I watched the water catch wind and mist everything in my yard. Normally I do not mind this (free water) but this time it happened to water exactly where I needed to be weeding. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So I sat and waited.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When the sprinklers finished their cycle, I looked up to witness every flower, blade, and leaf dusted with a million, glittering, circles of light. Their delicate glimmering caused me to smile. I imagined this is what pixie dust must look like...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6047/5896388406_d41cff6833_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6047/5896388406_d41cff6833_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5273/5896387896_974a9f9205_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5273/5896387896_974a9f9205_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5156/5896388964_3cf961e4c4_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5156/5896388964_3cf961e4c4_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pulling weeds has always been a teacher for me in the area of my own personal "weed pulling". For example, pulling weeds has taught me that if I fail to pull a personal weed up by its roots, it will always grow back in the soil of my heart. (Such a hard truth, especially in the areas of hurt, anger, and bitterness.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So here is what impressed me on this day:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I look back at the moment, I now see that that this is what Hope looks like when I find myself in the dirty work of pulling my life's weeds. There I am, entrenched in the soil, bent over, hot from the sun, caked with mud, wondering (and whining) if there will <i>ever </i>come a day when I do not have to pull weeds. (Please, don't you just wish you could pull a weed once and then never have to come back again?) In the middle of my labor and toil, suddenly Hope arrives in the form of a million points of Light. Awash with beauty, completely unexpected. It comes in the form of an answered prayer, a encouragement from a friend, a song on the radio, a miraculous provision. All simple reminders from God that I am loved, watched over, and never abandoned to the eternal dirty work of pulling weeds. This is Hope that sustains me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I believe there is no place of dirt and darkness that Hope cannot invade. No weed-like burden that Hope cannot relieve. Yes, there is an amount of toil that we experience in this life, the pulling of weeds, or the dirtying of our hands in the messes that seem to show up like weeds. But Hope is the eternal flame that God places in our hearts to whisper to us that, though we may have earthly pain and struggles, unanswered questions, our lives are not without purpose and meaning. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are loved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are loved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are loved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Praying that whatever back-breaking, weed-pulling situation you find yourself in, you will, <i>today</i>, experience Hope in the middle of it. That you will look up and see a million points of Light dusting your situation with the promise that you are loved, watched over, and never abandoned to the eternal dirty work of pulling weeds. Praying that this will sustain you as only real Hope can.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">******</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today is a link up day with two of my blogging friends, Michelle and Stacey. Michelle chose the theme for this week, which was "Hope". I have to say, this was hard. I took these pictures above without the intention of capturing "hope". It wasn't until I uploaded that they spoke to my work of "pulling weeds". I "hope" it makes sense to y'all. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am eager to see how the gals interpreted this theme this week!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For Michelle's July 7th post, <a href="http://www.michellesidles.com/">click here</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For Stacey's July 7th post, <a href="http://sdanddoublee.blogspot.com/">click here</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-29987800768178269712011-07-05T00:37:00.000-07:002011-07-05T00:37:52.135-07:00sparkler magic<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every kid should hold a sparkler at least once in his life....</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5075/5904296640_4c8810e2a8_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5075/5904296640_4c8810e2a8_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6033/5903738245_5d0a60abb5_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6033/5903738245_5d0a60abb5_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6047/5903738869_c1325a09f9_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6047/5903738869_c1325a09f9_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5235/5904297244_8e71161106_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5235/5904297244_8e71161106_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Yesterday on the 4th we were gone from morning 'till night hanging with good friends and eating our way through the day. The weather was beautiful, perfect for a water balloon fight and hanging out on the front lawn. We ended the day with some sparklers that I had purchased at an out-of-town firework stand.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Street works are completely illegal in our part of the state so it makes me sad that my kids have not been raised to experience the once-a-year agonizing wait for the fall of darkness on the 4th, when their father and uncle would drag out the boxes of fireworks to set off in the street. (I always felt that the sun set slower than usual on Independence Day. Anybody else feel that way?)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">I am having to create a new kind of 4th memory, so yes, I broke the law, and splurged for some sparklers. I feel quite confident in posting these pictures even though my brother works for the state law enforcement. It's not that he wouldn't turn me in because I am his sister, it's because--ahem, cough cough--he knows what he was doing in his front yard at the same exact time we were lighting our sparklers. If you get my drift? Ok, that's all I am going to say about that.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">So anyway, back to the sparklers...</div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6035/5904297800_d3b53a03f3_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6035/5904297800_d3b53a03f3_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Honestly, night photography is an art form at which I am not very skilled. But my <a href="http://www.bigpictureclasses.com/pictureinspiration.php">Picture Inspiration</a> assignment this week was to "dig in" and explore another art form, have some fun, get a little messy. I think I was a little broad with my interpretation of this assignment but I went with it. I have always wanted to try some night photography so I decided to make this my "dig in" moment. I discovered how fun it was to play with the settings to see what I could create. It was also fun to watch the kids "dig in" and explore what they could do with their sparklers. They wrote their names in the air, twirled and danced. Here's Bean writing her name on the street...</div></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5319/5903738377_3ee4852925_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5319/5903738377_3ee4852925_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6046/5904296988_c3d217a867_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6046/5904296988_c3d217a867_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6016/5904298248_86288a745e_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6016/5904298248_86288a745e_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I learned a little bit in the process of having fun. I learned how to work with my shutter speed, and follow the light and work in darkness, which is tricky. It was a successful "dig in" moment for me.<br />
<br />
And a super fun way to end Independence Day.<br />
<br />
A happy belated 4th to you all. Hope it was a fun one.<br />
tUnknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-87084415883284546782011-07-01T00:01:00.000-07:002011-07-01T00:01:01.157-07:00friday summer love: visiting old friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5232/5888309265_fd2c007207_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5232/5888309265_fd2c007207_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5316/5888884320_4462df4d48_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5316/5888884320_4462df4d48_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6009/5888313039_d5af00f890_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6009/5888313039_d5af00f890_b.jpg" width="426" /></a><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5064/5888882954_7a64a28e2a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5064/5888882954_7a64a28e2a_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6046/5888315733_20c604f973_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6046/5888315733_20c604f973_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5307/5888314257_4f8dc40d37_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5307/5888314257_4f8dc40d37_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5262/5888312281_0918931033_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5262/5888312281_0918931033_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5195/5888313559_42bc36a652_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5195/5888313559_42bc36a652_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6047/5888877942_c7e3e01de7_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6047/5888877942_c7e3e01de7_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6023/5888879294_9f29617cda_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6023/5888879294_9f29617cda_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
This past week we visited <a href="http://penandview.blogspot.com/2010/06/making-palm-friends.html">old friends</a>.<br />
She walked amongst them, giving each a name, greeting them with a pat-pat.<br />
I do believe this is becoming her favorite summer destination.<br />
Mine too. <br />
<br />
<br />
p.s. I can' believe how much she has grown in the last year.<br />
Next year she'll be as tall as her friends!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-37353028872259158342011-06-30T09:06:00.000-07:002011-06-30T22:50:15.897-07:00stuff I want my kids to know: your life is a gift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3225/5871448237_c361efd068_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3225/5871448237_c361efd068_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Kids,<br />
<br />
Sometimes I watch your from afar and I am overwhelmed with love for you. I pray that you come to know just how much <i>your life is a gift</i>, stretched out before you with endless possibilities. Imagine yourself as an explorer, embarking on a journey. Only you can make the choices to abundantly live, or squander away, your life as you make your way through the mountains and valleys.<br />
<br />
Whether it be in the public eye or in the quiet of your own private struggle, with God's help, you are capable of accomplishing any goal, or working through any obstacle. And you are strong enough to bear any cross. (For there will be crosses to bear.) With him, you possess more strength than you know.<br />
<br />
So in good times, climb that rock and stand with the Light on your face and thankfully count your blessings, for there will be many. A thankful heart will always keep your heart in tune.<br />
<br />
In difficult times, climb that rock and stand with the Light on your face, humbly take up your sword and shield and set your heart and mind to the truth that you are a warrior. A <i>good</i> warrior who is deeply loved by a sappy mama and a good God.<br />
<br />
Mom<br />
xoxo<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3174/5872004934_3329de7ba5_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3174/5872004934_3329de7ba5_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
(My Picture Inspiration theme this week was to capture "exploration". Couldn't help but capture this little explorer with his shield and sword, looking out over the valley below him.)<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-58615448429112681282011-06-29T07:31:00.000-07:002011-06-30T22:50:15.899-07:00stuff I want my kids to know: don't settle for the monsters everyone else is making<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5278/5873345968_46c78fea5c_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5278/5873345968_46c78fea5c_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3162/5873365898_e6dfa93c18_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3162/5873365898_e6dfa93c18_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3238/5873675394_875b0e6054_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3238/5873675394_875b0e6054_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5309/5872808477_84f6257a93_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5309/5872808477_84f6257a93_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5141/5873365038_afe6228ab8_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5141/5873365038_afe6228ab8_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Kids,<br />
<br />
I know it may not be the easiest path but...<br />
<br />
Don't settle for the monsters everyone else is making.<br />
Explore the reaches of your own creativity.<br />
Push yourself to create rather than copy. Innovate rather than mimic.<br />
<br />
"Gelatin Monsters" are <i>waaaaaay</i> cooler than the standard martians because <i>you</i> thought them up and chalked them into existence.<br />
<br />
I can speak from experience as to how frustrating it can be when you take the longer path of exploration, when you bump up against the limits of your present self. But if your set your mind to the work you will be rewarded with the discovery that <i>you are far more more capable</i> and gifted than you first believed. <br />
<i> </i><br />
Do not settle for the false satisfaction that imitating will feed you. <i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>Do not settle</i> for the monsters everyone else is making. <br />
<br />
xoxo<br />
Mom<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5038/5872787383_a14f11c5ff_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5038/5872787383_a14f11c5ff_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-19371594809750359462011-06-28T07:29:00.000-07:002011-06-30T22:50:15.901-07:00stuff I want my kids to know: you are already cool.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2751/5862271713_336fd6e24a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2751/5862271713_336fd6e24a_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Kids,<br />
<br />
I know I am just your mother, much older than you, and soon to be totally unable to relate to your life, but I just wanted you to have a very important little nugget of truth that will help you get through these next few years.<br />
<br />
Here it is:<br />
<br />
While you struggle with trying to "fit in", wondering just how far you need to go to be "cool" in the eyes of those who define "cool" (whomever that may be), please know that <i>cool is what you make it because you already are, and forever will be, cool.</i><br />
<br />
I know this is a very parental thing to ask but, who makes the "cool rules" anyway? <br />
<br />
In my forty-two years of living I have not found that person outside of myself and I am pretty sure you will not either.<br />
<br />
You = cool. Period.<br />
<br />
Mom<br />
xoxoUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-16199412285533646152011-06-27T08:25:00.000-07:002011-06-30T22:50:15.903-07:00stuff I want my kids to know: don't be afraid to wear your Big Birds<div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5269/5873368000_4feb49ebed_b.jpg" width="640" /> </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5071/5873027357_26616d79db_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5071/5873027357_26616d79db_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/5873371304_12f64dee74_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/5873371304_12f64dee74_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3010/5872811867_0909a257b7_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3010/5872811867_0909a257b7_b.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5039/5872814243_13bb5bf035_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5039/5872814243_13bb5bf035_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5080/5873370370_312c049622_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5080/5873370370_312c049622_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3188/5873388016_82901424cf_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3188/5873388016_82901424cf_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Kids,<br />
<br />
Son, if you really want to know how to attract the ladies then take a cue from your little pal above, and then listen to your mama.<br />
<br />
What we're both tryin' to say is: do not be afraid to wear your Big Birds. *<br />
<br />
I know this sounds funny, but your underoos really do have secret powers (sort of). Batman and Robin knew this, and most super heroes would also agree. You see, on their own, the Big Birds do not have the secret powers until you have the confidence to put them on. The magic happens when you decide to wear them regardless of what you believe the girl might think. It's all in how you carry yourself. And how you carry yourself is directly linked to how you value yourself. (Which I hope you know, of course, how valuable you are.)<br />
<br />
Before you get too embarrassed, please know that I am not at all trying to sound suggestive. I am simply stating a fact, that there is nothing more attractive to a woman (well, at least this woman) than a man who carries a humble, quiet confidence in his approach to life (and his wardrobe). There is an indistinguishable, attractively <i>good</i> power that a man can possess when he is able to carry himself with a spirit of humility and a calm belief in himself. In other words, a man who does not need to prove himself by telling you he is wearing his expensive, flashy Big Birds.<br />
<br />
And Bean, if you ever meet a man that needs to prove himself to you via outlandish displays of money, accomplishments, expensive clothes...who likes to fluff his feathers..who is unable to wear humility with honor...who scoffs at the man who wears Big Birds...then turn around and run for your life. He is not yet worthy of you.<br />
<br />
Understood?<br />
<br />
Okay, to sum it all up:<br />
<br />
Son, if you have Big Birds and you love them, wear them with quiet confidence. You will possess an attractive confidence that will drip with magic. <br />
<br />
Bean, if you meet a man that needs to show off his Big Birds, or laughs at the man who would dare to wear them--walk away. He needs more time to grow into a man.<br />
<br />
Mom<br />
xoxo<br />
<br />
p.s. A real man also knows when to keep his pants on.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3138/5872831543_8ff412d961_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3138/5872831543_8ff412d961_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*Note I did not say, <i>wear</i> your Big Birds, I am just sayin' that you should <i>not be afraid</i> to wear your Big Birds. And when I say "attract the ladies" I am jesting. I know that embarrasses you, it's just that I cannot help but saying it when I look at these photos. :) </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-77271330535175017862011-06-24T00:15:00.000-07:002011-06-24T00:15:05.893-07:00summer love: a blue sky and a pink hat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2689/5865398369_07422e503e_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2689/5865398369_07422e503e_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5104/5865403541_f7b26eb89c_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5104/5865403541_f7b26eb89c_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2751/5865956424_a9cf6fc024_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2751/5865956424_a9cf6fc024_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3281/5865398735_7e52dc058d_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3281/5865398735_7e52dc058d_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2799/5865951674_4e26e44a04_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2799/5865951674_4e26e44a04_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3167/5865956586_696c88b498_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3167/5865956586_696c88b498_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2682/5865956230_6ebd6b126d_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2682/5865956230_6ebd6b126d_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3222/5865952378_bfd1e32617_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3222/5865952378_bfd1e32617_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3106/5865975088_5ee7c91e11_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3106/5865975088_5ee7c91e11_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5223/5865956716_38ac1b43b6_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5223/5865956716_38ac1b43b6_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Just a little bit of our day yesterday.<br />
Yes, it was this beautiful.<br />
It was a day to wear your pink hat just to celebrate all that blue.<br />
<br />
Happy Summer Love Friday.<br />
TUnknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-80925153915967383592011-06-23T01:33:00.000-07:002011-06-23T01:35:38.768-07:00the first and last<div style="text-align: center;">This is for my sweet J...</div><br />
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</div><br />
She asked, and then shot down every excuse I gave her.<br />
<br />
I said I would think about it for awhile because I <i>swore </i>I would never say yes to a wedding.<br />
<br />
So, after I awhile I said yes. I said yes because I love her, I wanted to support her in this new chapter, and she <i>swore</i> the wedding would be small.<br />
<br />
The day was perfect, the light beautiful, the bride relaxed, the gathering indeed small, the kids adorable (more of them later), and my nerves...well...they did pretty well. Except that I could not sleep that night because I kept taking pictures in my head, hearing the click of the shutter.<br />
<br />
I know it's always good to say <i>never say never</i>, so I will allow myself room to change my mind, but this was my first and last wedding. I loved capturing the story of the day and the in between moments, but I have no need to step into this realm of photography. I have many friends who do this for a living and I would humbly and happily be a second shooter, to be the invisible spectator to the blessed event.<br />
<br />
So J...these photographs are for you girl. They are just a few of the first I have edited. Just 999 more to go!<br />
<br />
Love you.<br />
<br />
tUnknownnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-14148421988090012702011-06-21T23:43:00.000-07:002011-06-21T23:43:50.307-07:00moody<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5280/5859380352_1b1de0169e_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5280/5859380352_1b1de0169e_b.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5262/5858828111_3f9b155309_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5262/5858828111_3f9b155309_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5032/5859380928_ea8945a407_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5032/5859380928_ea8945a407_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5026/5859415000_422c5bcf3d_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5026/5859415000_422c5bcf3d_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5022/5858828319_6d2844e1f9_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5022/5858828319_6d2844e1f9_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3044/5859380162_ae72da9409_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3044/5859380162_ae72da9409_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
My <a href="http://www.bigpictureclasses.com/pictureinspiration.php">Picture Inspiration</a> assignment was to capture "moody".<br />
<br />
We could take it in any "mood" direction we wanted, but we were to pay attention to light and composition in a way that would evoke a <i>mooooood</i>.<br />
<br />
Hmmm...I might have added an extra dimension by literally capturing "mood". I didn't set out to do this, it just kinda of evolved.<br />
<br />
Extra credit?<br />
<br />
<br />
(And yes, I did make up that word "attitude-y".)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-68842123650288242782011-06-20T22:21:00.000-07:002011-06-20T22:21:24.543-07:00a berry good time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5187/5855044959_dc5c0cc6a9_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5187/5855044959_dc5c0cc6a9_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
At the berry picking farm you first must weigh your empty berry basket, after which the farm worker takes a piece of masking tape and marks the bottom of the basket so that when you return with your load the worker can subtract that amount from the total berry weigh-in. <br />
<br />
I joked with Bean that we needed to weigh her before we began picking, mark her bottom with a little piece of masking tape, and then sit her on the scale when we returned to weigh her berries. It was an act of great will for her to not munch her way through the berry patch.<br />
<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We found a life-sized strawberry ripe for pickin'....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Adding to the stash...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"One for my basket, and one for me."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3107/5855035525_334d1f9e02_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3107/5855035525_334d1f9e02_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5068/5855597424_eb15cbae9b_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5068/5855597424_eb15cbae9b_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Gotta wear the appropriate shoes...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3073/5855031549_1c5acf47db_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3073/5855031549_1c5acf47db_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2719/5855033163_3a3559d07b_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2719/5855033163_3a3559d07b_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the apple orchard you can pick apples in during the fall. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The light in there was so beautiful I was crying for a chance take my camera in there.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5066/5855585586_dfb0461e68_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5066/5855585586_dfb0461e68_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2561/5855601024_3e2879e34f_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2561/5855601024_3e2879e34f_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Waiting to be weighed...carried to the car. Officially hers to eat as she pleases.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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This is the fourth year we have kicked off our summer with berry picking and every year my son<br />
is Mr. Intense about it. He is the master berry picker and makes sure we have enough for cobblers and pies. Can I tell you that in just the last four days I have eaten so many berries that Bean and I have a rash? Happens every summer and then our bodies adjust.<br />
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Here is the berry pickin' gang. Note the child second from the right. She's mine.<br />
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I love summer simply for the fruit it brings. Don't you agree?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-62550145494891886352011-06-17T08:17:00.000-07:002011-06-17T08:17:47.459-07:00summer love berry bus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5303/5841125627_03a5d0f4a5_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5303/5841125627_03a5d0f4a5_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Just a little snapshot of one of our annual summer kick-off traditions: pik-yor-sef, and et-yor-sef berry pickin'.<br />
<br />
This is week two of my <a href="http://penandview.blogspot.com/2011/06/friday-summer-love.html">summer love series</a>. Fridays, a few photos of our summer fun, few words.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for more summer love berry bus photos on Monday. (Oh yes, there's more evidence of eating before paying.)<br />
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Have a happy weekend!<br />
tUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-31559064651304234932011-06-16T06:09:00.000-07:002011-06-16T06:09:50.358-07:00linked: sun (and popsicles)<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Happiness is: holding your very own orange popsicle. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2561/5837527947_b554a30735_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2561/5837527947_b554a30735_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Wait. Better yet, happiness is: the <i>summer sun</i>, kissing your very own popsicle.</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Happiness is also: having a friend who will hold your purple popsicle </div><div style="text-align: center;">while you retrieve a bowl of pretzels.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2471/5837531379_d27225cf0b_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2471/5837531379_d27225cf0b_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Happiness is: summer + sun + friendship + popsicles. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2488/5838452280_9d61849a41_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2488/5838452280_9d61849a41_b.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>This week I had the honor of choosing the linked up theme with my linky friends <a href="http://www.michellesidles.com/">Michelle</a> and <a href="http://sdanddoublee.blogspot.com/">Stacey</a>. I made a quick decision to honor the start of summer with the theme of "sun" and then I proceeded to spend a week and a half of not capturing it. What was I thinking? What I was not thinking was that "sun" is kind of an ambiguous theme and so I every time I set out to capture it I came home with a "sun fail". Then Michelle announced that her pictures were ready and blog post was written (teacher's pet) and I was beginning to wonder how I was going to pull off this assignment. There was a moment when I considered emailing the gals to tell them that I had failed to complete the task that I had assigned. (What a geek.)<br />
<br />
So with some major resolve, I brought my camera with me to Bean's art class/swim time and attempted my sun thing one. more. time.<br />
<br />
And then...........some magic happened: the popsicles came out.<br />
<br />
And the sun arrived to kiss them all and christen them as the true beginning of summer.<br />
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And I snapped away.<br />
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And I exhaled in relief.<br />
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And now I can say that happiness is: completing my linked up "sun" assignment with seconds to spare.<br />
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Now go and visit Michelle's June 16th blog post for her sun goodness. <a href="http://www.michellesidles.com/">(click here)</a><br />
And Stacey's June 16th blog post too. <a href="http://sdanddoublee.blogspot.com/">(click here)</a><br />
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I am eager to see how they interpreted the "sun" theme!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-84679222292613828162011-06-14T21:34:00.000-07:002011-06-14T21:34:51.343-07:00seeing double<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3359/5834654633_3bf575a32a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3359/5834654633_3bf575a32a_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
What is like to wake up every morning to your own face smiling back at you?<br />
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To never be alone, be without a friend?<br />
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To share a birthday?<br />
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To have people (or...ahem...someone like me) confuse your names?<br />
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To out-number your big brother when you gang up on him?<br />
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To struggle for your own identity...or take comfort in the similarities?<br />
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To share a closet full of clothes...or want your own closet full of clothes?<br />
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To share the same messy room...or clean room?<br />
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To share experiences with someone who will be a back up in case your memory fails?<br />
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To know each other better than any one else could?<br />
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Tell me girls, because I have always wondered what it would be like to be a double of someone else. Two humans formed from the same mold; replicas with intricate and subtle differences. I wonder if you take comfort in your doubleness or if you seek ways to individuate. I guess it might be different for every set of doubles and yet, I will never know. I share no mirror image with another. I am me, and I am all I have.<br />
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So tell me, what is it like to be a twin?<br />
<br />
******<br />
<br />
My <a href="http://www.bigpictureclasses.com/pictureinspiration.php">Picture Inspiration</a> assignment this week was to photograph "a coupling". Two subjects, together, identical or not, but somehow fitting of each other. I chose to capture an identical coupling in human form. How could I pass up this opportunity? If you had a photo assignment such as this and there were twins standing in front of you, wouldn't you be begging/bribing them for a photo too?<br />
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I see you sitting there in front of your computer screen, nodding your head "yes".<br />
<br />
Thank you.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-29816260103318349522011-06-13T00:51:00.000-07:002011-06-13T00:51:43.549-07:00spontaneousSo this is what happens when I invite you over to my house for pizza on a Sunday evening and I have not seen you in a while because I have spent the last month working 40 hours a week and you have been cooped up inside your house with your brand new baby and a four year old...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5066/5827373055_4e34b0f08d_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5066/5827373055_4e34b0f08d_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3114/5827389553_e722c0dc64_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3114/5827389553_e722c0dc64_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2657/5827382183_bacb7c309e_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2657/5827382183_bacb7c309e_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Yes, when I invite you over for pizza on a Sunday evening and I have not seen you in a long while and you have just had a baby, I drag you outside in the beautiful light for ten minutes and take oodles of pictures. You may scold me for including me in so many of the pictures because you did not realize it was going to be a "mommy and me" shoot but I don't care. I wish I looked half as beautiful as you "as is" right after having my second child. Sheesh, look at you girl. You are one beautiful mama. (Even if you are sleep deprived and going bonkers with your four year old.)<br />
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Taking these photos filled my soul.<br />
I think I need to invite people over for pizza more often.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-24881521967373474342011-06-10T14:57:00.000-07:002011-06-10T14:57:46.659-07:00friday: summer loveI am leaving the <a href="http://penandview.blogspot.com/2011/05/umbrella-fridaysaturday-coming-and.html">umbrella Friday posts</a> behind and stepping onto the Summer Love Bus on Fridays. Few words, just snapshots of our summer captured in digital goodness.<br />
<br />
Yesterday was our first official summer vacation beach day. The weather was perfect. One summer love bug was ready to fly...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3039/5819478104_df3d08ac7c_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3039/5819478104_df3d08ac7c_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<br />
Happy summer!<br />
Happy Friday!<br />
tUnknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375265617490344696.post-57898476016964791792011-06-09T00:56:00.000-07:002011-06-09T00:59:23.021-07:00roller blading (and a little addiction of sorts)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5182/5813967043_e967bd11f1_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5182/5813967043_e967bd11f1_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Do you remember summer evenings when you were little? I do. In my little world and era, we used to bolt outside after dinner and spend the extra hours of daylight riding our bikes, building forts, and roller skating. When the sun went down we would tumble through the door in a sweaty mess and gulp down a sweet dessert because we had burned through our dinners and our blood sugar levels were super duper low. Good times.<br />
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So yesterday evening when I stepped outside after dinner with my camera, to get to the business of completing my Picture Inspiration assignment, Bean followed me out and donned her roller blades. The weather was beautiful, the sun was out (finally!), and she and her brother enjoyed those extra daylight hours.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Clinging to Daddy for support...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">As she rolled towards me she gave me her photographic poses...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>My <a href="http://www.bigpictureclasses.com/pictureinspiration.php">Picture Inspiration</a> assignment this week was to capture "double vision" in the form of a diptych. A diptych is a photograph that is comprised of two different or identical images, that are placed side by side to form one image. The "one image" then makes its own statement.<br />
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When I first saw the assignment I had to smile. My instructor had no idea how much of a diptych girl I am. I am a bit obsessive with them as they can be addictive. There is something about them that can convey detail and story in a way that one image cannot. I love to pair photos, and if you have been around here for any length of time, you will know that this is true. :)<br />
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I love to put similar photos from the same moment side by side to convey a little story. Below, Bean is in her Paris Hilton camera moment. (I seriously thought she would out-grow this phase.) I loved putting these two images together to embrace this one moment, this one part of the story of our evening.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here she is trying to use Daddy's car for support...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">My obsession is not limited to diptychs. I often play with similar images until my eye is pleased with a grouping. I guess this would be called a triptych? (Must google.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The PI assignment however, was about using two images to capture something at different angles. I knew right away that I wanted to capture Bean's roller blades so I purposefully attempted several perspectives. In the end I paired these two images because I loved the detailed close up, eye-level image of the roller blades contrasted with the wider angle shot from above. This way we could actually see Bean in the roller blades, and in the motion of using them. This is one of my favorite ways to use a diptych: a detailed shot alongside a wider angle, contextual shot. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>So there you go, my addiction has been outed. Though I figured it would not really be a surprise to any of you. But, admitting it is the first step right?<br />
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Now go try a few yourself, and then you can blame me later should you discover your own obsession with them. Here's to more beautiful summer evenings, and diptychs!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4