CHARGED PARTICLES

The northern lights are an atmospheric phenomenon that's regarded as the Holy Grail of skywatching. Stefanie Waldek, Daisy Dobrijevic from Science.com

I’ve never been interested in seeing them.

It’s not that I would not want to see them; I just never thought about going out of my way to see them. The thing is, I’ve never really been all that interested in the night sky. Chris and a gaggle of friends would spend hours out on the oval at night, gazing up at the sky during our time at USAO. I think I tagged along a couple of times, but I found the whole experience to be uncomfortable. Laying on the ground with the night chill and swatting away mosquitoes while trying not to fall asleep was just not something that appealed to me. I’m not good with late night things. The Jenny Lewis concert I attended recently was a rare event and a struggle since she didn’t hit the stage until around 8:45 and my bedtime is 9:00. I’d pay extra for my favorite bands to put on matinees. To truly experience and see the night sky, one must wait until the sky is at its darkest and that happens well after 9:00.

When word went out on Friday that there was a possibility of seeing the Northern Lights in the Kansas City area, I was mildly interested. Then Chad sent me a screen shot of an email from the ham radio weatherman group he follows (of course he does) and it was all about the solar storms that were predicted for Friday and Saturday. So I replied to Chad with “ask the ham nerds about times.” and started to think about digging out my tripod. Friday evening rolled around and Michael and the Cabbage went to a school lock-in for the night. I FaceTimed with Amani and futzed around the house. I stepped out onto our front porch to look at the sky and my view was blocked by trees. I shrugged and went to bed. Then I woke up the next morning and my social media was filled with pictures people had posted of the Northern Lights.

Photographer Cindy experienced some serious JOMO.

Michael and the Cabbage came home from their lock-in and slept most of the day away, leaving me to my own devices and I just kept thinking about the pictures I had seen of the auroras. It was such a rare event to happen this far south, not that I’d consider Kansas City as ‘south’. I was just under the impression that if I were to ever see the Northern Lights, I was going to have to travel to Alaska or Iceland. I knew from Chad’s ham nerds that the solar storm would be even bigger and the auroras even stronger that evening. By the time Michael got up I knew that I wanted to go out and try to photograph the auroras for myself. The latest aurora map predictions said the peak time for seeing the lights would be between 11:30 and midnight. It didn’t take Michael much convincing to drive us an hour north to Smithville Lake. We started to set up in a parking lot, but the view wasn’t great. Also, as soon as I opened the truck door, my weirdo magnetic attracted another lights viewer who made a direct beeline to us with unsolicited advice. We quickly took a short hike to a more isolated area near the water.

Then we waited.

We sat on the ground, eating popcorn and swatting away little bugs while looking at the sky, all the things that are unappealing to me. Every once in a while, I would snap a picture and then look at the image to check my exposure times. It was around 11:10 and we hadn’t seen anything yet. Michael asked me what I wanted to do. I looked at the time and said “I want to wait. It’s still too early.” So we waited. We listened to the tree frogs and the murmurs of conversations happening around us. We watched a flat bottom boat hug the edge of the water on the other side of the lake and complained about the fisherman’s spotlight that he was using. Then I noticed a very faint green light. I pointed it out to Michael and said that it might be something, but most likely a cloud. So I snapped the shutter and we both gasped at the image. The camera captured a streak of green and purple dancing across the sky.

There are many many myths centered around the auroras, not surprisingly related to the afterlife. Japanese folklore spoke of the auroras as messengers from heaven. Native Americans believed the auroras were recently deceased loved ones, carrying torches on their way to heaven. This was a theme in one of the scenes from Almost Maine. In the scene, a woman has traveled to Maine to see the Northern Lights so she can say one final goodbye to her late husband. She’s carrying her broken heart in pieces in a paper bag and she meets a man who ends up taking that bag, dumping the pieces on the ground, and starts to fit those pieces of her heart. When Michael asked me to read this play with him, this was the hardest scene for me to read. Just the act of reading scenes itself brought up the memories of countless of hours of running lines with Chris. Mix those memories with that scene’s story line and it’s surprising I made it through it all alive. The aurora myths are easily believable if you don’t know anything about charged particles.

We were almost home when I said “Hey..remember that time we saw the Northern Lights?” as if it had been an event that happened years ago. I am almost uncertain that it even happened at all. The whole thing feels unreal, unbelievable. We never saw the auroras with our eyes, only through the camera and I had my camera set to a long exposure time. Our eyes just don’t have enough light sensors for seeing them at this latitude, but maybe in June, when we travel north for the moose hunt, we’ll have a better chance of seeing them with our eyes.

Maybe then I will change my mind about seeing ghosts.

THINGS I DECIDED TO DO

I wrote a short Thankful Friday entry last week about a goose who has laid eggs in a precarious place and the whole nature vs nurture thing. I didn’t post it because I never really finished it. It was sort of done. Then I got busy and Friday rolled in. I technically could have finished it Friday afternoon, but instead I took my new camera lens for a walk to the Kauffman Gardens and then rushed back to help someone and finish up on some work. So, Friday’s gratitude post just didn’t get posted and the thing is, I didn’t feel too bad about it.

Back in October, I rented a camera lens to take with me to Woods Hole. It was one I was considering buying and camera lenses are not cheap. I thought that renting it and spending a week with it would give me some idea about want vs need. Would this be a whole lot of money spent on something I would only use on occasion? Or would this be the lens I would want to use most of the time, setting my zoom lens aside for those times it would be unsafe to get too close? I did not take my zoom lens with me and relied only on the rented lens. On day one, I was already starting a mental list of what I loved about the lens. It’s light weight, making it great for travel. Handles low light situations better than my zoom lens which allowed me to use faster shutter speeds, and all the pictures I took that week have a dreamy look about them. I counted maybe five or six times when I wanted a zoomed image. By the end of the week, I knew that this lens was a need. Okay…a wanty need, but a need none the less.

The rule for big ticket item fun purchases is that one must be paid off before buying the next. So, we paid off the last big “fun” purchase, a TV, and then headed out to buy my lens. Except the place where I was going to buy it, didn’t have it in stock or online. I had to go to the computer store that I hate with my whole heart. They didn’t have it in stock, but I could order it online. This actually turned out to be an easy, smooth purchase and I didn’t leave the place fuming. Side rant: I have not once gone to this particular store and been helped by anyone other than a condescending (male) computer know-it-all. This was the first time I have ever walked into this store and been treated like I actually knew what I was talking about. In fact, I was so surprised by the experience that I even said to the sales clerk “Wow! This was a way easier and a more delightful experience than I expected!” The camera lens arrived on Wednesday of last week, but my schedule didn’t open up until Friday for me to take it out for a spin. Then I started pointing it at things and remembered all the reasons why I fell in love with that lens in the first place.

Using my camera brings me joy and I am investing in my joy, not just with fancy new gear, but by making space in my day for my camera. I had zero plans to photograph the eclipse, but made some last minute adjustments to my camera and schedule. I set myself up at the top of our parking garage and while I don’t think I got anything spectacular (we only got 90% eclipse), I had a great time doing it. I used my phone as a remote device for my camera and laid back and enjoyed the sunshine and the view. As the eclipse reached 90% the parking garage filled up with people. Then I had a number of people chatting with me about what I was doing and how I was doing it. And while I wasn’t wowed by any of the pictures, I was able to compile a short time lapse of the event.

Skipping out on a Thankful Friday entry is by no means a sign that I had nothing to be grateful for last week or that I’ll stop doing gratitude posts. This is a gratitude post. I’m grateful for being able to invest in the things that bring me joy. It also has me thinking about how I can invest in other activities that bring me joy like yoga, bicycle rides for ice cream or plain old snuggling on the couch with Josephine. What does investing in those things look like or even mean? So much of that investment is time and making space for those things. Well…it means really learning the power of the word ‘no’ and really paying attention to how I feel when I say "yes” to something.

I feel pretty good about saying yes to investing in more joy.

THE WHALE

I spent the whole day on Saturday attending a chair yoga teacher certification class. I was supposed to go again on Sunday but woke up with a sore throat and a slight fever. After showering and eating breakfast, I didn’t feel much better. So I opted to stay home and not spread my germs, but I was very happy to see that pictures and videos from the day had been posted for me to scroll through. It was also really nice to watch a video of our teacher demonstrating how to get off the floor and it is exactly how I teach my students to safely get off the floor. The course was helpful and validating. Michael said that the experience seemed to have energized me, which is funny because I ended up taking a four hour nap on Sunday.

Early on Saturday, our teacher passed out a deck of oracle cards. I thought that oracle cards was just a Roze thing, but turns out it is becoming a popular yoga studio thing to do. It’s cleaner than goat yoga. I treated this experience with the same eye-roll as I’d use for Roze. The card that I pulled from this deck is a card I have pulled before from one of Roze’s decks. It was the Whale: True Voice card and I half read the description knowing full well that somewhere in there it was going to say something about speaking with compassion to yourself and others. I have no problems speaking with compassion to others. I might even be real good at that. I don’t want to talk about the ‘yourself’ part of that sentence. There was one part of this description that I hadn’t noticed before and it reads “Getting in touch with the mystery and unseen realms of life.” To which I responded “Shut the fuck up.” I turned my ghostbuster trap into an Idea trap.

The description on this card also said this:

Singing your true song from a place of compassion.

Somewhere along the way I have forgotten my true song and I have been working really hard these last three months to remember that song. It has slowly been coming back to me, but in a really annoying way. It’s like I can plunk out a few notes over and over again in my head, kind of like hearing Chris try to sing out the tune to Brazil, which if you knew Chris, you knew he was tone deaf. It’s like I hear something that is kind of familiar, but not yet clear and I know some of that is from trying to hard. Every one I know has struggled with January and it has not turned out to be the fresh start to the New Year that we all wanted. I know I jumped into January first with the idea that I was going to figure everything out on week one.

Then January tried to kill me.

More than a few notes of that song revealed itself this weekend. The revelation came by immersing myself in a community of yoga teachers of various of levels of teaching experience. Teachers can and do learn from other teachers. I loved learning from the others in our group and I loved sharing my own knowledge with the group. At one point on Saturday, we were paired off to practice teaching sun salutations. My partner was a woman who is still working on her teacher training and still finding her teacher voice. She was nervous when it became her turn to teach me. She’s normally a Spin teacher and I said if you can teach a class while riding a bike, you can teach anything. But really, the best advice I gave her was that the more she loved this practice, the easier it will be for her to share her knowledge of the practice. And then I started speaking whale like Dory in Finding Nemo. (Not really)

This post is about to get real long because finding your voice and loving your practice ties into something I started writing last week.

Last year, I purchased a new camera backpack to hold my Nikon and the (potential) extra lenses and gear. I did a whole lot of research on camera packs and what I wanted in a backpack. That also meant narrowing down what it was that I didn’t like about the camera bag I already owned. The deciding factors included comfort and ease of packability while not being bulky. I didn’t want to settle on any of these things for cost and I spent monies to get what I truly wanted. It was worth it. I love everything about this backpack. It has specific and easy to get to pockets for just about everything I need while traveling. It fits my body and does not feel like I am wearing a pack meant for a month long excursion on the Appalachian Trail. It hangs nicely on my closet door and I generally just leave my camera in it.

The bag and camera have not moved in over two months.

I have fallen completely out of practice with my Nikon. In fact I can pinpoint the exact time when I felt joy in taking photos and that was when I was in Woods Hole back in October. Lately, when I’m sitting in bed in the mornings with Josephine and drinking my tea, I will stare at that bag and start to stew. I sit there and think about projects I could/should start to practice using this camera. Last year, I was gifted a flash along with a set of diffusers and I have yet to take time out to learn when and how to use it. That’s just stupid because now in the dark cold months when the last thing I want to do is to go outside is the best time to stay inside and learn about flash photography. When you look for the light, but can’t seem to find it, then you make your own light.

This weekend I was reminded that when you truly love the things you do, then of course you find time to do those things. But there is also joy, great amounts of it really, in sharing those things with others. Yoga. Photography. Words. These are my things and I’m clearing space for more doing of these things that I love.

DOING THE THING

All the inspirational memes I’ve seen have been about not being afraid to do the thing. There are workshops and motivational talks on getting one’s self together and doing the thing. When I say ‘the thing’ I’m referring to that life goal that you might have set on a shelf because you don’t have enough time, or don’t feel like you’re prepared, or you don’t know how to get started, but you know some day you want to do it. It’s the activity you want to do but have a million excuses for not doing. There are loads of advice out there on how to move past those excuses. But what happens when you finally get past your own excuses and do the thing?

A thousand years ago, I sat down to write up a Life List of one hundred things I’d like to do. The list was not necessarily a ‘bucket list’, but more of list for just living. It was not meant to be stagnant. If you did something on the list, you crossed it off and maybe added something new. I struggled with separating the things I wanted to do from the things I should do. I’d always end up writing something about getting organized on the list, which is stupid. Sure, there are parts of my life not organized (photos and albums), but most of my daily life is organized. I know where all the things are. My calendar is up to date and color coded. There is no need to have anything about organizing on a Life List. Still, I struggled and it took weeks to finish a list of one hundred fun and enjoyable wants.

The Life List was abandoned when Chris died. There have been times when I thought about rewriting it, making a new one that wouldn’t involve him, but I have yet to make some time to do this. One thing I know is that having a showing for my photos would probably not end up on that list. It has turned out to be something that has fallen into a gray area of something I should do and the thing (goal) or want to do. After all this time of taking photos and posting and creating my art, sharing it in a tangibly public way seemed like the next step. So I did it. I did the thing. And now I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’m looking for the motivational memes that would tell me how to process having my first artist reception. It’s a large bag of mixed emotions that I feel needs to be organized and compartmentalized. I am appreciative of all the praise but simultaneously cringe from it. It’s a good feeling to know I am so loved, but also want to put up walls to block some of it out.

Those motivational memes, those workshops on accomplishing goals don’t ever talk about the after you do the thing because getting you to do the thing is easier than suggesting ways to process the mixed bag of feelings you end up with after doing the thing. So here’s my motivational after take. If you are cringing at praise being given to you, it is because you have an inner critic telling you that you do not deserve the praise. Those walls you put up to shield away love are walls built from feeling inadequate to reciprocate that love at the same level as what is being flung at you. If those who came to the art showing were insincere in their praise they would not have spent money on purchasing my art. The last one is a little harder, but I hope my friends and family know how much I love them.

I am not likely to ever add “art showing” to any kind of Life List, but I am not ruling out the possibility of doing another showing some time in the future. I only say this because I can envision what I want for the next showing. I not only know what I’d do differently for the next one, I know how to make those changes. I’ve learned to separate my wants from shoulds.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

In my tweens and teen years, any time I went off to do some 4-H activity, Mom would send a camera with me and instructions to take pictures. At the end of the year all 4-Hrs filled out record books that were judged with awards often being scholarship money. The best record books earned the most money and the best record books not only contained a write up of all the things you did, but pictures proving that you did the things. Inevitably I would come home with zero pictures because I was too focused on doing the actual activity. Or even worse because it cost money to print rolls of film, I’d come home with a camera roll full of pictures of my camp lunches or a neatly made bed.

I wasn’t a camera person.

Then Chris gifted me a tiny sky-blue Sony SureShot and sent me off to New York for BlogHer and time with Talaura. I didn’t go with the intention of taking great pictures. I didn’t go with the intention of taking any pictures, really, but this was the trip that changed me and sent me down the photography path. Chris eventually upgraded my camera and I started reading manuals and attending workshops. I participated in photo challenges and I set photography goals for myself. I’ve researched lenses and I’m even renting one that I’m thinking of buying for a trip I’m taking in a few weeks. This practice has kept me curious not just about learning the technical aspects of photography, but also learning about other photographers. The photography section is usually my first stop when visiting any art museum.

I recently came across this quote from Dorothea Lange, the photographer and photojournalist best known for her portraits like Migrant Mother during the Great Depression:

The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera.

I feel this quote in my bones. My camera has taught me to see the world around me but it has also opened me up to the perspective of seeing the world through the eyes of others. No one sees their surroundings in the same way as the person standing next to them sees it. I have been sharing my view of the world for a long time now, but tonight is my first ever artist reception centered around that work and I’m nervous. I keep thinking about all the what ifs that all seemed to be tied together with the not enoughs. Then Terry reminded me that this reception is for me to enjoy. It’s a celebration. The art work has been up for a month. My friends and family have been seeing my work in my online posts for years. The only difference here is that my work is tangible; it’s printed and framed and hanging on some walls.

I am grateful for this practice that has changed the way I see my surroundings. But I am beyond grateful for the love and support for this practice from my family and friends. You are the ones that make me believe that I am enough.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Thursday evening, Michael helped me hang my photos in the Starbucks at 16th and Main.

The end.

Okay, not the end, but the hanging part is done. Mostly. We had a 16x20 print spontaneously fall off the wall, breaking the frame. Then this morning, while I was in the shower and Michael was getting ready, he said “I’m second guessing those prices because of the frames.” Tonight I’m making new name/price tags and reframing the other print so I can go in early tomorrow morning to hang and swap tags. There is some relief in having the pictures up, but there’s mixed feelings. I’m excited. I’m embarrassed. I feel exposed and a little naked on a stage. I feel I’ve made an accomplishment, but I’m judging myself real hard. All day yesterday, I felt this bubble of emotion sitting in my chest and I wasn’t sure what would happen if and when that bubble popped. I was either going to start screaming, crying or laughing hysterically, probably all three at the same time. Instead, I ended up eating way too much enchilada at dinner and drinking the queso dip straight out of the bowl.

What’s dumb is this, by far, is not the hardest thing I have ever done.

It’s great sharing my writing and photos the way I do now because I know my audience consists of family and friends. A small handful of those friends are people I have met through blogging and social media, but most everyone else in the audience are friends I’ve known forever. For years, this audience has been supportive and encouraging and mostly kind. I’ve felt safe here, maybe too safe. I’m exposing myself to a bigger audience with this showing. My name and my blog are posted on my ‘about the artist’ page and that’s a little scary. I’m doing the thing that scares me just like the inspirational quote that’s plastered on one my journals tells me to do. This is supposed to be good for me. One day this week, I was in the process of creating a wall map so we’d be organized on hanging day. I decided to hold back some pictures that I had previously planned on and my friend Sarah walked in as I made the decision. I said “I’m NOT hanging these pictures, no matter what anyone else thinks I should do.” Sarah looked at me and said “That’s right Cindy. Because this is your show.” Which is something I really needed to hear.

I am writing this story. I am controlling this narrative. This is my show.

Today, I am grateful for Michael’s help in hanging all of the pictures. I am also grateful to this audience for your support and kindness.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

It is time for my annual Oh My God, It’s Spring post. Except I don’t feel as excited about Spring as I usually have in previous years. I mean, yes I love all the color and the warmer temperatures. My Instagram feed is filling up with pictures of tulips of all shapes and colors. I can’t help myself. I cannot pass by a tulip with taking it’s picture. I have ridden my scooter almost every day this week and it has been glorious. Josephine and I have not quite made it back to our regular walking routine. We are not walking every day, but we are walking on some days.

Which is enough for now.

I don’t think I’m tromping around this year saying “Finally! Winter’s over!” with a heavy sigh because Winter wasn’t really that bad. I feel a little guilty for saying it, but it’s true. Sure it was cold, miserably cold, but I only had to shovel the driveway once. I have friends in Utah who had to shovel so much snow that their shovel broke. People are still dealing with Winter weather even though the calendar has declared it to be Spring. I’m also a little hesitant because I have been fooled a number of times by April/May snow showers, an event absolutely unheard of during my years in Oklahoma. My collection of frozen tulip photos is my reminder that Winter doesn’t move on easily.

But for now, I’ll bask in this Spring light.

I find myself struggling to write these days. My focus has been on the mundane tasks of being an adult. Paying my taxes. Reminding myself to print out the form to renew my passport. Making up the weekly menu. Last week I was buried under a pile of slides that I had to batch image and process. This week I’ve been planning my trip to the Marine Biology Lab in June, a month and half away. Then I remember that I also need to make plans to go to Oklahoma for Quinn’s graduation. I haven’t even mentioned this to Michael. There hasn’t been time.

We are both busy.

My tether of thoughts and mental lists seem to only break apart when I step outside for a walking loop around the building. The moment the sun hits my face, my focus shifts to photographic possibilities. I know that rays of light are leading to me something and I keep my eyes open, my senses sharpened. Like an easter egg hunt. Often, my hands itch for my bigger camera which I hardly ever take with me to work, but maybe that needs to change. Sunday, Michael bribed me into riding my scooter with him all the way across the river to where he works. He’d left something in his office that he needed for a paper he had to write for his CE class. Except when we got there, he couldn’t get into the building. So we ended up riding all that way for my bribe which was ice cream (always and forever). I hadn’t been prepared to leave the house on Sunday and didn’t really want to go on this ride, but as I was flying across the MO river, I desperately wished for my big camera. These are feelings that hibernate during the winter, this desperate urge to get the camera out and fill the memory card with pictures.

Right now my world is shifting from words to pictures. Right now, I see my world in vibrant colors and I’d rather capture it on a camera than with words.

Side note: Events have happened since writing this entry. Josephine was mauled by a dog last night as we walked to meet Michael. The owners of the dog were fast in collecting their mut and concerned for us, gave me their number, all the things. Josephine’s ear was bleeding and ears bleed like crazy. I had blood all over my hands. She had it all on her head. We stopped at Terry’s to get cleaned up and take breath from trauma. We cleaned Josephine’s ear and I washed my murder scene hands. Terry recently purchased some singing bowls and played the singing bowls to calm us. Then we went on our way. I am so grateful that Terry lives in my neighborhood and I’m just grateful for Terry. He always seems to know how to sooth. Josephine got a bath. Her wound was just a small puncture and she’s fine. This could have been so much worse for everyone involved.

Gratitude all around.

THE BIRDS

In the late afternoon on Saturday, Michael drove me an hour and half north to see hundreds of thousands of birds. And it was spectacular. I did not see a single Canadian goose for once. Instead, we saw swans, little ducks that I think were surf scooters, eagles and so many snow geese. There was a grass fire and hundreds of thousands of snow geese flying around which made for some dramatic shots. I took a lot of pictures, standing outside, hanging out the truck window, standing in the sunroof. We also passed a number of other photographers, often set up on tripods in various places on the driving loop.

This is when I realized that I am not a wildlife photographer. First of all, I don’t have the gear for it. I could easily spot the photographers who specialize in wildlife photography by the size of their lenses and how they were camped out with plans to be there for a while. I saw one guy remove a lens from the back of his SUV that was the size of a bazooka gun. I was not envious. I was just as happy taking a picture of a lone dead tree in a mostly empty marsh as I was taking pictures of birds. I also really lack the patience for it. I’m not one for camping out for hours to get the “perfect” shot. I’m not mad about any of the pictures I took, but I am not delusional enough send anything off to National Geographic.

And I am perfectly at ease with this knowledge.

I didn’t plan this excursion solely on photography. I wanted to see a million birds in one place, which we did. Every time Michael stopped the truck and we got out so I could take pictures, the thing that hit me was the sound. The honking and chatter of geese was the only sound to be heard, but there was so much more. You would be standing there, mesmerized by a white sea of geese, all noisy and then suddenly the sound would stop. The honking would be replaced with a ‘whoosh’ as all of the birds would lift up out of the water and take flight. There would be almost an absence of sound as they all flapped their wings. It was if they were pulling the sound up and away with them. They would swirl around in the air for a minute or two before they would all land and settle in, sound returning to honks and chatter. It was a complete sensory experience. We left the wildlife refuge and stopped in St. Joseph for dinner at Cajun restaurant, where went in with low expectation. I mean…St. Joseph is a little too far north for southern cuisine. We were seated at one of the best tables and served fired oysters that were breaded and fried like how my mom would make them at Christmas. They didn’t have an extensive list of daiquiris or Abita beer on the menu, but we were happily surprised by the authenticity of their dishes. We left with happy full bellies and then we were home in time for SNL reruns.

When we finally made it back home, Michael asked me if I had a good time. I responded with ‘yes’, but then flipped the question back on him. He said that he had really had a nice time and then he said “More of this, please.” I wrote something in my book club journal yesterday when I was trying to write down responses to “I’d ask _ for a _.” We were supposed to be asking men we knew for something and like many of the women in my book group, I was struggling to think of the men I know/knew and what I’d want from any of them. I finally gave up and started writing my thoughts.

Michael will do anything I ask him to do. He may not do it without grumbling first or with an open heart, but he will do it. I just have to ask.

I asked to see a million birds in one space and he took me to see a million birds in one space.

THE LIFE I WANT

As predicted, the weekend was everything that was needed. There was talking, listening, laughter, tears, more laughter, new games, a drunk trip to Walmart where I purchased a stuffed, fluffy chicken and some food. It was everything we needed and we made promises to do it again next year. On Sunday morning, Deborah made us breakfast and we ate our last meal together. Then we packed up our cars, but before we headed out in opposite directions, we squeezed each other tight. I told Amy that I would come down for her graduation (she’s been working sooooo hard towards a Masters in Library Sciences). I told Deborah that she’s going to get into grad school (she wants to go into speech pathology and taking classes to make that happen). We drove away from each other, still waving and grinning.

Then our weekend together was over.

I decided to take a different way home when I left Wichita. I chose a country highway instead of the turnpike even though it was not the fastest route. I have been using the weather as an excuse for being uninspired and unmotivated in getting out my camera. The weather is part of the problem, but not the whole of the problem. I thought that by taking a slower road, I would be less hesitant to stop when I saw something interesting. The first impulsive stop was for a windmill in a field of wind turbines. The concept of impulsive stops was too new to me and I rushed myself. The second stop took me down a gravel road to an old school house. The school house, while isolated and alone was at least kept mowed so that you could walk around the school. The building, itself was boarded up though. The field it sat in was quite except for the chattering of birds that I could not see. I spent more time here, listening to birds and judging the angel of the light. Eventually, I returned to my car feeling lighter and satisfied with what I had just done.

I made one more stop before I hit Emporia, a place called Cottonwood Falls with wobbly brick streets. I took some pictures of the old courthouse and then spent too long in search of an owl that I kept hearing. I found myself well off of main street before turning back and driving on to Emporia. That feeling of satisfaction stayed with me the rest of the day. I stopped to go through the Burger King drive thru in Emporia. Michael’s put Burger King on the banned list because they always get his order wrong. I had low expectations when I ordered my impossible whopper. The teenager working the window handed over my order and I found a piping hot sandwich that looked exactly like the picture with crisp lettuce and onions. It was the most perfect Impossible Whopper I had ever seen.

It felt like a reward.

The next day over breakfast, I told Michael about how good that drive felt and that I wanted more. He said that he was always willing to stop if I wanted and I winced. There have been a number of times when I have asked to stop and Michael’s response has had a tone of inconvenience to it. It happened enough times, that I have stopped asking. It wasn’t easy, but I told him this and I told him that I was no longer going to allow this to happen. I am going to ask to stop and I will no longer let him make me feel like I am inconveniencing him with my request. It was not an easy conversation to have, mostly because he didn’t realize he’d been speaking in a way that would make me not ask for something I want.

Effectively communicating wants and needs is difficult.

I devised a plan to ease into the asking by scheduling us on an evening trip up to a wildlife preserve just north of St. Joseph. It was surprisingly simple. I sent a link to the preserve along with a date and time I want to be there. It has been reported that the preserve is currently filled up with snow geese and I want to see them, photograph them. I received an immediate response of ‘yes’ and then we made dinner plans in St. Joseph. I find that I am excited and looking forward to doing something other than our usual Saturday evening thing of couch potato soaked in gin and tonic, but I also learned to stop caring about the reaction I might get to an ask. Because I want more of those lighter and satisfied feelings.

I am learning to ask for the life that I want.

DEHYDRATION

In the dark morning hours of Sunday, I dreamed that I was at a spa for a spa day. That’s not a far fetch dream. Michael got me a gift card for a spa day for Christmas and I’m all booked for the twenty first. In this dream, I went into a room that was very hospital like and removed my clothes. Then I peed on the floor (because dreams are crazy). My massage therapist then told me to lie down on the massage table face up. She covered me with blankets and then raised the bars up on both sides of the table. The table turned out to be a hospital bed. Then she spent five minutes digging for a vein in my hand so that she could hook me up to a saline IV. The therapist patted my other hand and said “We’re just going to let you rest here for a few minutes and absorb some fluids.” Then she pulled a curtain around me and left me alone.

I woke up thinking that I really needed to drink more water.

I also really hope that this is not how my actual spa day is going to play out.

Oh, it must be that time of year when I have to be reminded to care for myself. I’m not talking about massages and bubble baths kind of care, but the basics. Drink water. Trim nails. Eat a green vegetable. Step away from the cheese. That last on is much harder than it sounds. Months ago I told Michael I wanted a cheese cake for my birthday. He replied “Oh, you want me to make you a cheesecake for your birthday?” and I said “No. I want a cake made out of wheels of cheese for my birthday.” Then Michael said “What?! Is that a thing?!” while googling it and discovering that yes it is a thing. The first layer is already sitting in the fridge because it was on sale at Whole Foods during Christmas. It didn’t hit me until I made our New Year’s Eve charcuterie board that I had asked for an exorbitant amount of cheese.

We will be freezing leftover birthday cheese cake.

I still stand one hundred percent behind my beliefs that making resolutions in January is a waste of time. No one is in a good headspace to start new projects or pick up the old projects. We’re all still recovering from our holiday gatherings and the clean up from those holiday gatherings. I started the New Year with yet another restructuring at work. It’s nothing bad, in fact it is a very good thing, but there’s a lot of new things and questions and weirdness. I’m losing my yoga space and I’m going to have to hunt down a new one. I thought this week, I’d work on consistency in my yoga practice, my walks and going back to torture class. I’m saying no to elevators and I’ve re-introduced a timed twenty minute eating time.

I’ve also had a liter and a half of water today.

I’m not setting any big goals for myself this year because some big goals have already been established for me. A manager of a downtown coffee place posted a request for local artists in a private Facebook group that Michael is part of. He sent her a link to my website and she contacted me last week about a May/June showing for my photography. I’ve been scared to say anything about it because the last time I was supposed to do something like this, the world shut down and I lost my commission. Also, it didn’t really feel legit since I didn’t do anything. She just went online and looked at my photography page. All I had to do was say ‘yes’. I confirmed the dates with the manager yesterday and I’ll go visit the space on Saturday, but I feel like I have all the photos I need to fill the walls. I just need to print and frame them.

I start to get a little bit hyperventally when I think about it, but then I remember all the preparation I’ve already done and how there is not that much left for me to do other than just print the pictures. Maybe if someone came to me and said “hey, we want to publish your book in October.”, I’d finish writing a book. Apparently this how I get things accomplished. I just need to set back and do nothing until someone tells me to do something.

Drink some water. Eat a green vegetable.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

The most perfect snowflake landed on my windshield and I did not take a picture of it. I tried. I dug my phone out of my bag and started to set the macro settings, but in the time it took me to do all of that, the snowflake melted. I sat there for a few minutes watching little star shaped flakes collide with the glass but gave up on the idea of taking the picture.

Beautiful things don’t ask for attention. - James Thurber, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

In the last few weeks, I have neglected to tap the shutter button or even get my camera out from under my bra strap (this is where I carry my phone, like a holster). I will admit that some of the reason for this is that I’m just not feeling it. The other side of that is that I’ve been fully engaged in recent activities as opposed to just observing from the other side of a lens. Stepping out from behind the camera is not unusual for me during this time of the year. The lack of color and sun in winter time is less than inspiring. At least for me. I do make an occasional attempt at stepping outside with the camera, but I can’t deny that I am a warm weather bird. Lately, it has felt more important to be part of the conversation with the group I have gathered with than it is to photograph the group.

In February of last year, Roze gave us all in the Self Care Circle an assignment to write a letter to ourselves. She gave us those letters last week along with a note to maybe write a new letter to ourselves before reading the one from February. I wrote a new note to myself on Sunday and in that letter I told myself how important it is for me to seek out beauty with my camera. In the last few weeks, I’ve had two different people bring up the topic of showing my prints. I am grateful for that time I spent not taking the picture of the snowflakes. They were beautiful, but it got me thinking. Beautiful things may not ask for attention, but that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve attention. I ended the letter I wrote to myself in February with “You are enough. Really…at the end of the day…this is the only thing you need to remember.” Those words meant something different to me then. Now, those words feel like a blessing, a whisper saying “your photos are beautiful and they deserve attention.” My creations are enough.

It is time to start considering my next showing.

SPONTANEOUS

Here is what was on my weekend to-do list: laundry, grocery shopping, bin buying, camper clean out, general household cleaning, balloon ride.

I checked all of those things off my list except for the hot air balloon ride. That got cancelled because of wind, but I’m not too upset about that. When I got home from grocery shopping, Michael helped me unload the car and said “let’s be tourists today.” I was still a little bit pouty over the canceled balloon ride, but shrugged and replied “I’ve never been to the Toy and Miniature Museum.” So, we hopped on our scooters in search of lunch before heading to the museum. We found Earl’s Premier while we were looking for something else and it turned out to be a very very good accidental find. It is the kind of restaurant that feels like someplace we’d visit while on vacation. Oysters consumed, we made our way over to the Toy and Miniature Museum, marveling at tiny replicas of chairs and feeling nostalgic over toys. There was one display that contained a grouping of toys for certain years. I looked at this display and said “I had that toy from the 70s, most of those things from the 80s and that Beanie Baby from the 90s.” And since this made me feel old, I dragged Michael over to the Art Deco exhibit at the Nelson so we could look at things older than us.

When it was time for the balloon glow, we decided it would be better to ride the bus than it would be to deal with parking and I am really glad we did this. The event was filled to capacity. Luckily, Michael and I arrived early enough to not have to wait in line too long for food from a food truck, but we were meeting the Cabbage and that side of the family. They did not arrive early. I sat on our blankets as a place holder while Michael and the others scattered off to the food trucks. I waited for ever for someone to come back. I kept watching the fading light and then I’d look up at the spot where I really wanted to be to get good pictures. There were already some people camped out in that spot. Finally, I sent a text that basically read “I might not be here when you get back.” and I started climbing my up to a good vantage point.

I made it to that spot, but there were already three photographers set up there, two of them with tripods. I kind of stood back hesitantly like a wallflower. One of the women noticed me and said “Hey! You want to come over here? We can make space for you!” Then she slid some gear bags over so I could get in the space. I set my camera up on the stone wall and then proceeded to make myself as small as possible so I wouldn’t be in their way. This was unnecessary and a direct symptom of my own insecurities. Two of the women chatted with me about small talky subjects and camera preferences. Then when the show started, we all started clicking shutters and giggling. Trying to capture a balloon all lit up was like trying to capture lightning. It was like we were playing a photographer’s strange version of whack-a-mole. Eventually, I decided to leave that spot for something closer. I thanked all of them for sharing the space with me and they said they’d see me next year.

That was the best part of my day.

For a brief amount of time, I was pulled into a circle of photographers and I was treated like an equal. I got to hang out with the cool kids. I saw respect and understanding when I talked about the reasons for choosing my current camera, because I didn’t just sound like I knew what was talking about. I knew what I was talking about. The moment reminded me of all the times Chad and I went on photo walks together. In that moment, every irritation and annoyance disappeared. Tension and stress from things happening in my life melted away. In that moment, I allowed myself to stop pretending to be a photographer and just let myself be a photographer.

I stopped judging myself.

POSER

Saturday, we had some free time before meeting our friend Shruti for lunch. So Michael suggested we pop into Brookside Gallery and Framing and talk to them about frames for some things that we purchased in New Orleans. We spoke with the owner, Sandra, about our needs and while she was working up a cost analysis for us, Michael was browsing around the shop. He noticed some postcard sized photography prints on rack and said “Hey, this is what you should do with some your pictures Cindy.” He looked at Sandra and said “She’s an amazing photographer.” I did not have a response to this, but Sandra enthusiastically told me she’d give me an artist discount on picture frames. Really, Sandra is great. She told it us it would be too expensive to do custom frames for the five 5x7 prints we bought in New Orleans and recommended we go to a craft place like Michael’s. Then she told me to bring in my prints and she would put them up for sale in her shop. I told Sandra that there was an odd shaped piece we’d purchased in New Orleans that I would definitely be bringing her for framing. I thanked her and then we left the shop.

And I threw up.

No…but I was dazed as we walked back to the scooters. I couldn’t wrap my brain around what had just happened. Then we met Shruti and after lunch the three of us went to the Brookside Art Fair. After passing by the third booth of photography, I said out loud “my work is total shit compared to this stuff.” Both Michael and Shruti disagreed, but I couldn’t help but think they were only protesting my statement to make me feel better. Michael and I left the art fair with a lovely whimsical painting of an octopus and I left with a crushed soul and “what am I even doing with my life” mental state. I’m a hack, a pretend hobbyist who got carried away and had business cards made up declaring myself to be a photographer. These people at the art fair, those are real artists. They are willing to spend the money required to display their photos to the public so that the people say “Ooooh” and “Ahhh”. Standing next to them, I am just a cheap, trailer trash substitute.

Then we got home and I had a comment on an Instagram post from Elizabeth saying that she’d love this picture for her wall. I made a mockup of a postcard using one of my Shuttlecock photos and when I showed it to Michael he yelled “WHY ISN’T THE NELSON SELLING THIS POSTCARD!” Then someone else left a comment on a photo on Facebook telling me that I take amazing photos and I don’t know who to believe. All of my followers are friends and family, people I’ve known for most of my life who were already fans. But what if they’re only saying all this to be polite? What if I am really like that person who goes to audition for American Idol who thinks they are an amazing singer, but really can’t carry a tune to save their lives, but you know..in photography form? What if I take my prints in for Sandra to sell and she takes one look at them and tells me the truth of what I have known all along, that I lack talent and my photos are crap?

Vulnerability. It is a pain in the ass.

I ordered a print for Elizabeth today. I will be submitting an order for postcards this week, as well as placing an order for special photography matting. I will have more prints made so that I don’t have to just use the ones from the art showing that never happened. Maybe I’m not a professional or one for big displays, but that doesn’t mean I lack talent. At least, that’s my mantra today.

CHANGE OF FOCUS

When I purchased the new camera, I had set an intention to take it out for Friday walks, but then the weather turned wonky or my schedule was weird. Friday walks just didn’t happen for a few weeks. Last Friday, between meetings, I pulled my stocking cap down over my ears and zipped up my coat. I grabbed my camera and I stepped outside to walk. The effect of just stepping outside with that camera and the intention to use that camera was almost a manic feeling. I shifted from blase depression to elation in a blink of an eye. My face nearly broke with joy as I made my way up to the Nelson. Really, Kansas City is at its peak gorgeousness right now. The weather is not supposed to get cold until later this week, but the leaves have all turned. I can’t go a block without coming across what has to be the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen. Then I walk a few steps down the block and there’s a new contender for the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen.

Once I reached the sculpture park of the Nelson, I was pleased to find it mostly deserted. I had the park all to myself and at one point I was laying on the ground to get a particular shot and I thought “this is going to be a wonderful picture.” Even if the final picture wasn’t wonderful, at the moment of taking it, I felt really good. I felt like I was really doing something. I felt good about my craft and my art and these feelings stayed with me throughout my walk. By the time I made it back to my desk, I was a little sweaty and a lot glowy. The first thing I did was connect the camera to my phone for downloading and minor editing. That picture may not be the best picture I’ve ever taken but I still feel really good about it. Even if the final image had turned out like complete crap, I would have been happy with it because the whole action of taking the picture shifted something around in my insides.

In a good way.

A few years ago, I found my unathletic self agreeing to play softball for the corporate challenge. They made me the catcher mostly because I could hang out in a squat for long periods of time thanks to all of that yoga I do. It definitely was not because I was good at catching a ball. Just before our first game, our pitcher was warming up and he threw me a test pitch. The ball bounced up out of my glove into my face. I immediately stood up and started poking my front teeth to make sure they were still intact. Everyone ran to my side and someone said something about it would be okay if I sat this one out. I determined that I still had teeth, spit the blood out of my mouth and said “No. Let’s play this game.” My top lip swelled up and turned purple. Later, when I got home, Michael told me that it upset him to look at me. I can still feel a faint scar on the inside of my upper lip, probably because I needed stitches.

I was thinking about this recently because it feels like a good example of my life in general. I get hit hard, but I always manage to get up, spit the blood from my mouth and keep going. I feel like I have been taking some minor hits lately what with the scooter and the couch. My knee. My health in general. All of those little hits had started to pile up and I was beginning to feel a whole lot defeated. I needed something more than to just keep going. Friday evening, while sitting on that uncomfortable couch drinking too much wine, I told Heather and Michael that I wanted to go to the Vespa dealership and I was going to order exactly what I wanted. I said “this weekend we find a new couch and next weekend I’m getting a new scooter because I’m a grown ass woman with my own money and I’m going to get what I want!” I don’t know how much of that confident statement came from the wine or from my walk that day, but I like to think the walk played a significant role.

We had plans to go couch shopping on Saturday after getting our hairs cut. While I was waiting for our hairdresser to finish up with Michael, the people we ordered the couch from called me. They said our couch was in Chicago, which was exactly where they said it was in July, and would be delivered to our house this week. I finalized the delivery date and hung up the phone. Then I looked at Michael and said “Our couch is going to be delivered on Friday. Can we go to the Vespa dealer?” He agreed heartily after I bribed him with lunch at a BBQ place and by the end of the day, I had picked out my new scooter. Velma is a mint green (Verde Relaxed) Primavera 150 with front and back folding racks. Hopefully. There’s still a question of if the dealer has this scooter in stock, but with any luck I will have a new scooter just in time for my birthday. (Update: scooter has been ordered for real.)

The getting up and keep going part is not self care. I was doing those things on autopilot, moving through my days like a zombie. It was the act of getting out into the Fall sunlight and overloading my senses with color that changed things. It was the practice of picking up my camera and actively taking photos that took my off of autopilot. That is my self care and hopefully by writing this here, I’ll remember that for the next time I need a shift in focus.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I’ve started looking at cameras. And lenses. I’ve started tucking some really expensive camera equipment into my Amazon wish list. This might surprise some people because I’ve been such an advocate for phone photography. What’s the best camera? The camera that you have on you and that camera is on the phone that most people have with them all the time. So of course I’m still going to push people to learn all they can about the camera on their phone. I am also going to continue to take pictures with my phone camera, but I’ve been wanting something more.

I can hear Michael right now saying “but you hardly ever use the DSLR that you own now.”

He’s not wrong. I use the Nikon only for the zoom lens and the rare occasion I want to hold something more substantial in my hands while photographing things. The zoom lens on my Nikon, when set up on a tripod has given me the best images of the moon. That is the only difference between that camera and my phone camera. Both are 12 megapixel cameras, meaning they both have twelve million tiny squares for acquiring information. The higher the megapixel, the higher the resolution, but also the more light a camera can collect. This also means better resolution for larger prints and the ability to crop an image while retaining resolution quality. Whenever I’m teaching someone to use one of the microscopes, I always talk about balance. I talk about how more pixels is not necessarily better and the caveats to collecting more light. In these situations more pixels and more light means taking longer to acquire an image and causing damage to the sample in the process. Some of this can also be applied to photography. Twelve megapixels is perfectly acceptable for a 16x20 print and even more acceptable for posting online.

So why do I have a sudden craving for a camera with higher megapixels? What’s the point?

I was talking to my friend Sarah about this dilemma of wanting a new expensive camera and she said “Photography is a big part of your life, so…maybe you should get it.” Then Talaura told me that “sometimes wanting something is justification for having it.” Right now I feel like I’m wedged somewhere between beginner and novice. I will probably never consider myself a professional at anything, but I do feel ready to move over the line into more challenging photography. I don’t know how I’m going to make this happen, but I am truly grateful to have some women in my life who see me and support me in my artistic endeavors.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

The outtakes; they are the pictures I did not intend to take. They are the pictures I end up taking while attempting to get a different shot. They are mistakes. These photos are often left behind and discarded before I can even consider editing. Sometimes there are a lot of them just sitting in a holding pattern between maybe and trash. About once a month, I go into my camera app and delete them all. The camera app I use to take pictures is not the in-house camera app and it gives me the option of only storing the ones I plan on keeping directly on my phone. This way my photo album doesn’t get cluttered with a whole bunch of first pancake images.

Yet, these outtake images were the ones that I was drawn to this week. They were the ones that made me tilt my head, raise an eyebrow and think “wait. there might be something here.” The wind blowing the tulip I was focusing in on so that the bloom shifted out of frame seemed more interesting then the straight on shot I was striving to achieve. My attempt to show off my new tulle skirt, a whimsical impulse buy that has turned out to be my new favorite article of clothing, came across as delightfully messy and childish. I haven’t been unhappy with the pictures I had intended to take. Those have been nice, predictable, clean. The outtakes from this week have been a happy surprise, like finding five cookies in a package that was only supposed to have four cookies.

This is the time of year where I crawl out from under the depressive blanket I generally hide myself under during the winter months. I start to feel less like a dried up old husk of a person. Everything around me is beautiful again. I feel like making resolutions and actually sticking to them. My Instagram feed fills up with up close and personal pictures of all things in bloom and I start to feel a little bit like an actual artist. I even thought “these aren’t outtakes! This is art!” when I looked at those first pancake photos. Thinking of myself as an artist has never been easy for me. So when I have those moments that have me believing in myself, I grab onto them.

Camp Wilding, the adult summer camp where I’m teaching a workshop on phone photography, is approaching quickly. I bought a poster sized tablet to write down some talking points and I am thinking of devoting a whole page to outtakes. We are always striving for some preconceived notion of perfection. Sometimes that intense focus on achieving perfection causes us to miss the beauty of imperfection. So I would like to propose that we erase the word ‘perfection’ and shift that focus to the interesting, the beauty of the slightly off center, the deliciousness of that first pancake.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Last year, I signed myself up to teach a digital photography class at Camp Wildling, an adult summer camp hosted by my friend Kelly. Then the pandemic came along and wrecked all plans. I mean all plans. That photography showing that I was supposed to have, didn’t happen. In fact, I’ve started giving away the photos I had framed for that showing. I gave one to my therapist and two to my brother and sister-in-law to hang in their cabin. I don’t need to tell you about my wrecked plans because we all experienced wrecked plans. Last year was the year we all sat on hold with the tunes of elevator music playing woefully in the background. We are still on hold, but there is at least a glimmer that we won’t be finishing another year like that.

Kelly is offering two summer camps this year, a June one and another one in August. I told her to put me on the teacher list for the June camp. At the time I told her to do that, I was not in a place where I felt confident in being able to teach people to take better phone pictures. I still do not feel qualified, but I’m going through with it all anyway. I found this NPR article on Imposter Syndrome to be helpful. Although it is not a ‘syndrome’ in the medical sense, I can admit to being plagued by Imposter Syndrome in pretty much all aspects of my life. I almost never applied for my current job because I did not feel smart enough to work where I work. Once I was hired, I had so many doubts that I would ever be able to fake it enough to keep my job, but I have had enough interactions with some post-docs to know that I am very well qualified to do the job that I do.

So how is this class any different?

When I really start to dwell on it, I can see all the reasons why I am an imposter photographer. For one thing, it is not a paid gig. It’s not even a side hustle. It is a hobby (?). I think calling it a hobby is weak. I don’t consider my yoga practice a hobby and I would put my photography practice in the same category as I would my yoga practice. It is who I am. It is the only meditation practice I’ve been able to make stick, but does having a hobby qualify someone for teaching a class on the subject? This is where that article came in handy because it shared five easy steps for overcoming Imposter Syndrome. The first two steps sang true to my heart. Step 1 tells you to stop judging yourself and ask yourself how you are really feeling. I have never cared a blip about what other people thought of me, but oh boy can I turn myself inside out with how I think of myself. All of those doubts are symptoms of how I am truly feeling, which is really fucking depressed right now for reasons that don’t need to be listed.

This is where step 2 comes in to save the day because this step tells you to take stock of your true talents. This step forces you to look at the good parts of yourself. I may desperately hate giving presentations for work or performing on a stage, but I excel at teaching subjects that I am passionate about. It is what makes me a good yoga teacher. I love doing yoga and teaching is just sharing that love. I love taking pictures. I love finding ways to improve the photos I take with my phone. I am not ‘teaching’ a class on digital photography. I am sharing my knowledge and love of digital photography. There’s a difference. As long as I remember this, I’m going to be just fine. I am thankful for the opportunity to do this thing that takes me out of my comfort zone, this thing that scares me just a little bit.

I am thankful for the opportunity to share.

MY CARDIGAN

Every Saturday is generally spent running errands. It starts with me getting up early to do the bulk of our grocery shopping. Then Michael and I head out to find lunch and run around the city doing the rest of the errands like visiting the hardware store. The last stop is usually a fancy grocery store where we pick out something special for Saturday night dinner. Lately, by the time we reach the fancy grocery store, our patience and tolerance is running pretty thin. This Saturday had us on the side of town where masks are viewed as optional and by the time we left the fancy grocery store, I was prickly and ready to be home.

Once we were safe at home and everything was put away, I sat down on the couch with my book. I hadn’t even finished reading a paragraph before my eyes started to droop and I thought “I am going to go take a nap.” I am not a napper. Every time a nap is suggested, I turn into a three-year old. I might say that I’m going to lie down for a nap, but I only ever end up staying put for ten minutes. I will walk out of my room and Michael will look at me and say “I thought you were going to take a nap.” I always reply “I did.” Which is a lie. This time though, I took off the pants I had on and climbed into bed with my book and my dog. I was out in minutes. I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke I had the groggy weighted feeling of waking from hibernation. I had to shake myself. Then I had to take my temperature just to make sure I wasn’t coming down with something because that nap had been so not like me.

Later, after I had finally shaken the last of the nap cobwebs away, I stood in the kitchen prepping vegetables for the evening meal. I sliced and seasoned potatoes to roast. Then I chopped a bunch of mustard greens. I looked at the time and then I walked out of the kitchen, leaving it all just sitting on the counter. I pulled my Nikon from my desk drawer and picked up my clunky tripod. Then I told Michael that I was walking up to the Paseo overpass to try to get some moon pictures. I walked to the overpass and set up the tripod, securing the camera in place and then I waited. I knew what time the moon was supposed to rise and I was well in the time frame, but I couldn’t see anything. There were trees and I was not up as high as I would have hoped. I’d pick up my tripod and walk down the sidewalk, pause and check the view from the lens. Then I would pick up the tripod and walk back to my original spot, pause and check the view from the lens. I did this for almost an hour. I must have looked ridiculous pacing up and down Paseo with an old school metal tripod. Finally I got a glimpse of something orange through the trees. I found the spot to set up for my shot, but I still had to wait for the moon to creep up over the trees. I danced back and forth impatiently until it did and then I started shooting. Finally, when I was satisfied, I sent a text to Michael. He told me that dinner was ready and I replied that I was headed back. I apologized when I walked in the door for taking so long. To which Michael shook his head “No. I’m glad you went.”

I’m glad I went too. It has been ages since I have used my Nikon. It has been ages since I have gone through the rituals of adjustments for taking pictures. The testing. The moment when you know you have everything right and all you need to do is press the button. I needed all of that just as much as I needed that nap.

LOOK HARDER

It's still dark out when Josephine and I go for our morning walks now. It makes it harder to take pictures. Today I played around with using the flash.

The sun isn’t really up in the mornings when Josephine and I leave the house for our walk. It is not until we are almost back home, that there is a thin sliver of orange on the horizon. The darkness of the morning makes me uninspired to stop and take pictures. I am a devotee of Karen Walrond, who tells us to “look for the light” and so I am constantly looking in the direction of the sun. I never use the flash on my camera. I disdain the flash on a camera. Photos taken with a flash have a quality that does not appeal to me. Photos that I take with the flash are stark and feel like they are missing life, but this could also be because I never really learned how and when to use a flash. That might surprise some of you. I just set out from the beginning to use natural light mostly because I am lazy.

A number of famous photographers have used and use flash in their work, but the concept to use a flash or not to use the flash is a division line among photographers. Flash photography used for black and white photos can be striking and intense. I think it’s a great tool for bringing out the raw emotions of grief and anger. Flash photography has the ability to seem shockingly honest. The subject always appears to be caught, frozen in a moment. I know that all pictures are captured moments and tell stories. It’s just that flash photography tells a different kind of story. Possibly a darker, more sinister kind of story, but we like those kinds of stories sometimes. I realize how much I am limiting myself by not learning how and when to use my flash, particularly now that there is no sun during our morning walks.

I have yet to commit myself to sitting down for a traditional meditation each day, but I have found that my photography is its own form of meditation. It makes me more mindful of my surroundings as I scan for things interesting. It makes me present. Those morning walks have been a nice time for that practice. So I broke down this week and tried using the flash to take a picture. I picked out the best one for some minor editing and even the ‘best’ one made me cringe. I thought “I hate this.” but I posted it anyway. Then I opened the image up later on a bigger screen and thought “Wait…” Maybe I don’t hate that picture. I managed to make those black-eyed Susans less sunshiny and more Oregon fog. They have a haunted quality to them, but I think I like that. Then I started noticing things that I did not even see when I was editing and posting that photo. There’s a busy bumble bee in one of those flowers and a green beetle with black dots on its back hanging out on the petal of another flower. It is almost as if those two flew into the image later on after I posted it.

So I guess it is time for me to crack open some books and start playing around with the flash on my camera because sometimes magic happens when you use the flash. And sometimes, instead of looking for the light, you have to make the light. It’s time for me to make my own light.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Wednesday

Josephine and I have been hitting the pavement for our morning walks right around the time the sun is coming up. It’s hard to believe that there is a little over a week left in August, but I can clearly see September on the horizon. The morning temperatures have required long sleeves on our walk and a jacket when riding the scooter. The sun is setting a little bit earlier in the evenings and it is a little bit slow to rise in the mornings. As we crossed Troost to head towards Tower Park on Monday morning, I looked at the sky to the East and it was beautiful. So I stopped and took a picture. Because that is what I do. Later when we got home, I sat down to upload that picture, labelling it ‘Monday’ and then I decided that my photography project this week would be a view of the sunrise every day this week.

When I looked up at the sky on Wednesday to take a picture, I was a little disappointed. The sunrise was not all that spectacular. This was the first thought that entered my brain as I went to frame the shot. Then I repeated that thought out loud so I could physically hear how stupid that sounds. Any morning I am up to see the sunrise is spectacular. The fact that the sun rises and sets at all every day is spectacular. After all of these months, you would think that there is nothing left to be taken for granted. Apparently sunrises are something I can still take for granted. For six months out of the year, the sun does not rise in Antartica. Once the sun finally shows up, it stays up for another six months. If you lived in Antartica, you would only see the sunrise once a year. When Talaura and I visited Maine that one year, we made it a point to be at Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park in order to watch the sunrise. We were not the only people present and there was a sense of excitement and anticipation for those very first rays of light to make their appearance. I can only imagine how those feelings would be intensified for that sunrise in Antartica.

The earth turning and the sun rising and falling is one of the only constants I have right now.