Throwing out my backup plan...

When I was in college my sister got me into the show, Dawson's Creek. I only watched the first season, but I loved it and always wanted to go back and watch the entire series. Well, now, thanks to netflix, I can, and am currently on the very last DVD. Unfortunately, I have found that the show pretty much peaked the first two seasons; however, now that I've started, I am dedicated to finishing it out, no matter how painful.

Today's episode actually sparked my interest for a brief second. It was a scene featuring a conversation between Dawson and his mother. Dawson, for those who actually have lives, has wanted to be a film director basically from birth. At this point, he has dropped out of film school and is back living at home. His mom asks him, "how do you intend to make money in the long term? What's your plan?" When he tells her his plan is to complete his screenplay and sell it, she looks uncomfortable and says, "I mean what's your backup plan? If directing doesn't work. Making a living as a film director is a one in a million chance. Now, I know you don't wanna hear this, but... you need to be practical. It's not always about what you want. Dawson, you grow up, and life isn't what you thought it was going to be like when you were a kid."

To this, Dawson wisely replies, "I don't have a backup plan... and I won't ever have one. I'm going to be a director, and I don't want to have anything to fall back on, because there's nothing else that I want to do. And you're right, being a director is a child's dream, and that's how I know that it's real. Because it's what I wanted to do before I knew how to be scared or cynical."

So, I asked my husband if his parents ever had this conversation with him about his career in music. He said no. To which I replied, "good, because I wouldn't want to have to punch them in the face."


Insects and animals just follow their inner inclinations. They never question what they are here to do. So, why do we?

Making things happen...

"There are people who make things happen, there are people who watch things happen, and there are people who wonder what happened. To be successful, you need to be a person who makes things happen."- Jim Lovell

I've been super sensitive lately to people's complaints- complaints about other people, complaints about government, complaints about life in general, complaints about relationships, complaints about minor inconveniences. And, I think people complain when they feel out of control. These are the people who "watch things happen" and who "wonder what happened". People who "make things happen" are in the pilot's seat. They are too busy to complain. Look at Jim Lovell. He was commander of the Apollo 13 mission, during which almost everything went wrong. But, he didn't complain, he acted. Each of us is in a day-to-day fight for survival just as serious as Lovell's. When we live in fear, we are experiencing a "death-in-life", as FBI Profiler, Roy Hazelwood, would call it. We act to live. Maybe we can't make things happen in all aspects of life, but if we work on the areas we can, the others won't matter so much.


Tonight I watched Magnificent Desolation: Walking on the Moon, the one we missed at the KSC, and Apollo 13. Remarkable stories of human triumph that make our day-to-day problems seems as tiny as the Earth when viewed from the surface of the moon.

Asking for help when needed...

I am very excited to report that I am going to be working with my life coach again! I worked with her once in the past when I was first getting my photography business together, and it was an infinitely huge help. So now that I really want to start focusing on my writing, I feel it is time to get to work again!

It's funny because, as I have said, I started this blog to help me along with my photography, which it has. But, it has mostly reminded me how much I love to write. But now the question is- what to write? I want to start working on some of my book ideas, but I want to be certain they are the right projects for me at this time. And, I need a little boost to get me going.

For those readers who are unfamiliar with the concept of a life coach, it is not a therapist. A life coach is someone who helps you to erase all the crap clouding your vision, create your goals, knock down your obstacles, and cut a clear path. She asks the right questions to help you to determine what you want and how to get there, instead of someone just telling you what to do. It is amazing how much you can accomplish in a short amount of time. I can't wait to get started!



Tonight I was invited over for dinner with some friends, and while I was there, I took some quick shots of their little girl. She is so gorgeous, it is impossible to get a bad photo of her, but here are some of my favorites!

Exploring the depths of the mind...

I was driving home from a friend's tonight, going over the Dames Point Bridge, when I looked over at a faint glow coming from behind a line of black trees. The image brought with it an immediate feeling of comfort associated with a memory of looking out of my parent's bedroom window at our old beach house in St. Augustine. At night, far off in the distance, you could always see lights glowing behind the trees, sometimes even what we called "Hollywood lights"- moving spotlights. And, for whatever reason, this always filled me with a sense of wonder of what exciting things existed beyond those trees.

I got pulled into a show on PBS last night about black holes. I've never been a big science buff (other than oceanography- I used to want to be a marine biologist), but I couldn't take my eyes away. And, so I started to question my recent interest in space. Why am I suddenly so intrigued by it and why do I feel such a connection to it? This is usually something children do, switching from one interest to another. But the light behind the trees gave me my answer.

I am attached to the feeling of wonder. I actually believe we all are, but as we grow older we push it aside until it is no longer recognized. When we are young, we love to hear stories of far-off places, of treasure maps and dinosaurs- all things we cannot know, because they do not exist in our current reality. We are drawn to them as children because there are no answers, no certainties. Therefore, our minds are allowed to wander and create our own possibilities. I remember as a child tripping on the idea of how huge dinosaurs were and imagining one being in my backyard. I remember reading stories about ghosts and imagining what it must be like to see one. I remember watching the Goonies and dreaming of such adventure. These thoughts were attractive to me because no one could answer them. No one could tell me exactly what it would be like. Only I could imagine the answer.

And, that is why I am so drawn to space, to letting my mind fully escape me thinking about how huge our universe is, how many trillions of stars are in it, what other life forms could exist. This explains my love for the ocean, as well. I remember when I was young every time we would drive over the Buckman Bridge, I would wait til we reached the very top and imagine myself jumping to the depths below, swimming with fishes as the cool water breezed past me. No one knows what lies at the deepest depths of the ocean. But I sure do love to think about it.

Stretching my mind to its greatest limits, striving to understand, knowing full well that I am not capable, is somehow comforting and fun. There's definitely a level of fear involved in not knowing, but there is more wonder and amazement than anything else. Our world is so full of the unknown, it's a shame we only focus on the known. It's the unknown that gives us the freedom to "explore" with our minds.



Who needs a rocket ship when you've got your mind?

Connecting my piece of the puzzle...

I use a program as part of my reading instruction that is made up of several passages that my students read repeatedly to aid in their fluency development. One of these passages examines Sputnik, another the Mir Space Station. Working on these with one of my high school students was my first exposure to the "Space Race", which occurred in the 1950's between Russia and the United States. It struck me as ridiculous the fact that two parties with the same important goal would compete this way, and in such a suspicious manner, instead of collaborating.

But, when I visited the Kennedy Space Center, I learned all about the International Space Station in orbit now since 1998. An orbiting laboratory created and used by 15 countries to perform experiments on life in space, as well as life on Earth. Experiments that could help treat diseases and promote our existence on other planets. The ISS is like this giant puzzle, formed by painstakingly connecting different modules built by different countries. It is constantly manned by scientists from all involved parts of the world. Working together. When I watched the movie, Space Station, it amazed me that 1, people are capable of such accomplishments, 2, people can be so skilled as to put these pieces together in such a precise and difficult way, and 3, that 15- fifteen!- countries could work together on so many different tasks successfully.

It made me want to laugh at the fact that our country can't put together a program on healthcare. Here these scientists are- they don't speak the same language, they live completely different lives- yet they can gather around their joint passion and do this most detailed important work side-by-side and do so in the most accurate definition of perfection. Insane. But, God, it made me proud. There have been few moments in my life where I have felt proud to be an American, but hearing about that Space Station, I was overwhelmed. To see us working with other countries for the united benefit of mankind, and not letting stupid little differences get in the way was remarkable. Upon leaving the theater, both my husband and I were fully speechless.

Now, I see the ISS as this huge metaphor for life. A constant reminder floating overhead of the importance of working together. All parts united for the benefit of one- humankind. What an important and inspiring example.



I highly highly highly recommend viewing the movie, Space Station. It is available on Netflix, as well as for sale on amazon.com. It is just astounding to see what goes on outside our tiny little view of the world.

Redefining failure...

There's a phrase NASA used in reference to the Apollo 13 mission: "Failure is not an option." When I saw this bold statement on a sticker in the Kennedy Space Center gift shop, I wanted it. Not just the sticker, but the statement. I wanted to exemplify it.

All my life I've defined failure as not performing 100 percent. But that is wrong. If we performed everything in our lives 100% perfectly, our lives would suck, to put it bluntly. You wouldn't be challenged; calculus and physics would be a breeze. You'd be married to your first boyfriend, never having had a chance to date different people, because the first relationship would have gone perfectly. Everyone would do their jobs perfectly, leaving no room for moving up or down. There'd be no fights; there'd be no competition; there'd be no passion.

No. Failure is not trying, not giving it your best shot, resigning when the result looks different than that which you expected. There's a line in a Ben Folds Five song called Regrets that goes...

"I thought about the hours wasted watching tv, drinking beer. I thought about the things I thought about until immobilized with fear. And all the great ideas I had. And how we just made fun of those who had the guts to try and failed and then I ended up in jail."

Failure for NASA was not the fact that the Apollo 13 spacecraft malfunctioned. It was not the fact that the mission never reached the moon, as intended. Failure to them equaled not doing their best to get those men home safely. And, they certainly did not fail at that. Failure in my case would be not following the drive inside that pushes me to write and take pictures. It would be giving in to the fear that no one will like what I have to say or care, including myself. It would be to remain within my comfort zone. President Kennedy, whom the Space Center is named after, once said:

"We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too."



Not because it is easy, but because it is hard. The beauty of these words astounds me. With hardness comes challenges, with challenges- success, with success- beauty. In the search for beauty, failure is not an option.

Leaving reality behind...

So, we attempted to see the Space Shuttle launch, twice. And, both times we were denied. But we ended up staying an extra day and checking out the Kennedy Space Center. I say this often, but I find it difficult to put into words what I experienced there. I've always loved Disney World, for instance, less because of its being fun or happy, but more for its respect of and focus on imagination. When I visit any of its parks, I feel I am taken away from this world just a little bit and carried to a place of, well, magic, I guess is the perfect word. I've loved Walt Disney ever since I wrote a report on his life in elementary school. But, this was different. This wasn't tales of mystical, imagined creatures. This was the story of something real. Something imagination single-handedly turned real. And, it was the most powerful thing I have ever experienced.

There is some doorway in me that has opened lately, and suddenly I am amazed by the things around me. So, this place, that would amaze even a comatose person, threw me off my track. Being witness to these events, standing in the very place they occurred, was breath-taking and awe-inspiring, to say the least. To see the depths of our universe through the eyes of these brave astronauts literally took me out of this world. And, I think that it was a clue to lead me toward my path to being a creator of truth. When I am inspired by something, I feel as though I am lifted, if only for a moment, from the boundaries of this world. Something grabs me and pulls me away, as if to a higher plane. I'm no longer on Earth. In fact, many times today I had to consciously pull myself back to reality, and think- dewin, get it together. And I realized that, though this was the longest I have ever experienced it at one time, it happens to me a lot. When I'm reading a book, when I'm watching a good movie, when I'm listening to music, when I'm at a concert, when I'm driving in my car, when the wind blows on my face, when I see a beautiful tree- for just a split second, it feels as though I've left my body. And, like an astronaut tethered to his space craft, I have to pull myself back in. Maybe that is where creativity lies, in that place just outside of reality. How else would all of space travel have been made possible? Any realistic person would have said it couldn't be.

It got me thinking about so many different aspects of life, I'm pretty sure I'll be blogging about it for the next week. But, the most important inspiration of them all was the vital place that imagination plays in the human species. We are so lucky to have that capacity. We are capable of so much wonderment.



Yes.

Abandoning the herd...

So I watched Revolutionary Road for the second time today, and loved it even more. I am fully convinced now that Kate Winslet and Sam Mendes are geniuses. Though everyone else in the movie is equally as amazing. There are a couple of different parts where it is surmised that Winslet's character is in need of psychological assistance. She is unhappy with her life, and when she speaks of her overwhelming feelings in an overwhelming way, her husband tells her she is crazy. Having experienced that in former relationships myself, it was nice to be able to see things from an outsider's perspective. It is clear, to me at least, that her character is little more than stuck like a rat and frustrated at her numerous failed attempts to break free. She's not being heard, and so acts out in anger in an attempt to receive the response she is looking for. Any response. So, I thought: she doesn't need therapy, all she needs is a life coach to help her figure out how to follow her path. And, how many of us read the self help books, watch Dr. Phil, fork out hundreds of dollars for therapy, with no result? I know I have (all except the Dr. Phil part, gag me).

Of course, there are legit psychological disorders out there, but the overuse of therapy now seems to me to be as wasteful as the overdiagnosing of ADHD. Again, if you are "certain" that you have a disorder with a name and a definition in the DSM, then you have your set steps to follow- your power. It's cut and dried. Very tempting. But, therapy is not cut and dried. And when I had no luck with mine, I blamed my therapist, I blamed myself. It got me no where. But then I was introduced to a new "therapist"- myself. I learned how to listen to myself- to listen to what I want out of life- and I am starting to learn how to follow. And, poof, no more issues.

It makes me wonder how many people are stuck in this rut, just like the character, who actually believe that something is wrong with them, that they are crazy. It makes me sad. No one tells us after age 10 to be whatever we want to be anymore. It's like we don't even know how to do it. More than that, we don't even know it's an option. We follow the path of our fathers and neighbors and friends without even stopping to think if it fits. I took several therapy courses as part of my degree program in college, and have always said that I believe everyone could benefit from therapy. But now, now my view is shifting since seeing that movie. I think more than anything maybe we just need to make it a point to live a life as unique as we are and throw out the idea of the herd.



This is a mushroom I shot on our walk tonight. It was a beautiful night. The steam in the air had lifted and for the first time in a long time it actually felt cool outside. I hope it continues....

Unfortunately, I will be taking another hiatus tomorrow night from my blogging in an attempt to witness the takeoff of the Shuttle STS-128. Hopefully I will get some good shots, if we make it in time (I have to work late). But never fear, for I will be back on Tuesday night with more of my random, if not pointless, insights.

Playing for the same team...

For today's post I would like to defer to Eckhart Tolle, author of A New Earth, because I don't think there is any way I could say what I am feeling today as well as he says it. Take it away Mr. Tolle...

"These days you frequently hear the expression "the war against" this or that, and whenever I hear it I know that it is condemned to failure. There is the war against drugs, the war against crime, the war against terrorism, the war against cancer, the war against poverty, and so on. For example, despite the war against crime and drugs, there has been a dramatic increase in crime and drug-related offenses in the past 25 years. The war against disease has given us, among other things, antibiotics. At first they were spectacularly successful... now, many experts agree that... antibiotic-resistant strains of bacteria will in all likelihood bring about a reemergence of those diseases and possibly epidemics.

War is a mind-set, and all action that comes out of such a mind-set will either strengthen the enemy, the perceived evil, or, if the war is won, will create a new enemy, a new evil equal to and often worse than the one that was defeated. When you are in the grip of a mind-set such as "war", your perceptions become extremely selective as well as distorted. In other words, you will see only what you want to see and then misinterpret it."

I wasn't at all upset about a physical war today, but instead the war that people create for us all with their hatefulness. And then, they turn around and wonder why there are problems in the world. It is directly because of people spreading their hatefulness that our problems exist. I intend to avoid that temptation at all costs. I will follow my loves, not my hates. I will plaster my car with bumper stickers about what I love, not what I hate. I will inspire people, not tear them down with negativity and purposeless meanness. It is not clever; it is not funny; it is harmful. To me, to those who hear it, and to the world at large.



Declaring war on life, down to the simplest thing- like hating Britney Spears for whatever perfectly logical reason- is another way people draw lines between each other. If it suddenly becomes so important to you to hate Britney Spears that you talk poorly about her whenever the subject comes up, or laugh when something negative happens to her, or tell jokes at her expense, or make fun of the people who do like her, you are spreading hatefulness and drawing lines. No matter how trivial the issue may seem. You are creating an us vs. them. You are causing the fissure that divides us. Us vs. them is just people vs. people. Both sides of the same team. (And no Britney Spears was not the basis for this post.)

Loving uncertainty...

I've noticed something lately. I mean I've always noticed it to some extent, but recently it's been jumping out at me from all over the place. People creating their own misery by sinking themselves in cement. They do it to themselves, their children, their spouses, complete strangers. And, I can notice this because I used to do it myself. People in high school used to call me judgmental. I just didn't get it. I'm not judgmental, I just know what's right. Well, what I didn't know back then is that there is no such thing. When we as individuals decide that something is right, whether it be the way to dress, to live, to work, to talk, to look, what have you, we hold that ruler up to everyone we come into contact with, whether we mean to or not. And, guess what? No one matches it perfectly. Including yourself. So what happens? You suffer. And so do the people you love most.

The person who holds so tightly to these right ways to live is the person who lives in constant fear- fear that someone will shake their solid ground, that someone will break their perfect picture of the world. You can hold your child within these boundaries for just so long, your spouse will walk your tightrope just so long, your friends will hide themselves just so long, because they love you. But eventually that person won't be able to continue coloring within someone else's lines, no matter whose they are, and they will let you down. They will be their true selves. And you, you will lose it. Because you've clung to this idea for so long, organized your life around it, wrongly assumed that everyone else holds your standards to be accurate. When you come to realize they are not true for everyone, your entire world view will shift. First you may blame the other person, thinking they are not who you thought they were. But eventually you will realize that not every one else can be wrong. Not every one else can be bad. And, then you will be lost, confused, and alone.

The worst part is that you will also drag down your friends and family. Your children might act out or spend more time away from home just to get away from your invisible bonds. Your spouse might become withdrawn from you, hang out more with friends, drink, or find someone else. Your friends might keep things from you, spend less time around you, making them appear as the villains.

Obama describes this in his book so perfectly, it actually took my breath away as I read it, because I instantly knew exactly what he meant.

"Power lay in certainty- and...one man's certainty always threaten(s) another's."

He was speaking of politics in his book, but it applies to all areas of human existence. When we have these "certainties" in stone in our minds, we feel powerful. Not only because we are knowledgeable of the ways of the world, but also because we know precisely what steps to take to be "a good person". There is no doubt in our minds that we are right. We are the side God is routing for. We are safe.

But how can this be when there are about as many "certainties" as there are people in the world? It can't be. There are no certainties.

"There are as many ways to live as there are people in this world. And each one deserves a closer look." - Harriet the Spy

Don't make yourself miserable. Let people be whom they want to be, and you will be free.



As this post materialized in my head, this is the picture that came along with it. Having been the one dealing out the rules in the past, I know how wonderful it feels to let all that go and leave all the judging to God. You know I actually really hate the phrase "letting go" because it's been so overused in song lyrics, but it's the perfect way to describe it. The weight is off your shoulders, you're free to love others as they are, as well as yourself. You're free to live life.

Working it out...

Today I got stood up by two of my students, on top of a long break I had already had in my schedule. But I can't get too upset because it offers the perfect excuse to catch up on my reading. So I hung out at the office for three hours straight absorbing myself in my book. In the chapter I am currently on, Obama delves into black anger. Although he relates, he seems to view it from an outside perspective, as I suppose he does with everything, which is pretty cool. He briefly discusses the differing philosophies of Malcolm X and Farrakhan, and relates an episode when he and his then-girlfriend argued over a play they'd seen. When Obama laughs at the anger depicted throughout the play, his girlfriend doesn't understand. The issues of blacks are related to that of the surviving Jews of World War II, yet she doesn't see any similarity. And, she ends their relationship stating that she could never be black. He talks about how it angers some blacks when white people discuss the idea of equality, as we can never be equal because of our vastly different and complexly integrated pasts.



Tonight on the playbill was The Reader, a movie that actually looks at the lingering effects of the Holocaust. This added a whole new dimension for me regarding my "Breaking the Cycle" post from earlier this week. I mentioned how no one deserves a lowering of status, but it appears it is more complicated than that. What happens to the anger that results from past wrongs? What happens to the sadness? The guilt? How does that work itself out in a societal sense? How long does it take to work out? Forever?

I watched the "Making of" afterward and was attentive to every word the author of the book it was based on spoke. His writing process. I still feel I am trying to work mine out in the form of this blog. Maybe in order to break down characters and get to the true heart of issues with your writing, you must first break down and get to the truth within yourself and the world around you. I don't know yet, but I can't help but feel that the answer is just over the horizon.



I was actually inspired by the movie poster for The Reader for this shot. My husband bought me some new bulbs today that I had wanted to use to try out different lighting, and I love them! I definitely want to work more with this "up close and personal" type shot.

Seeing people for who they are...

Man, I love movies. They are like books you can "read" in two hours, while doing the laundry. It's great. And, I feel like they are getting better. Or maybe I'm just now starting to see them for what they are. I feel like I've seen so many movies lately that have left me breathlessly staring at the credits with my hand to my face, unsure whether to cry or smile.

I just watched Revolutionary Road, and it said so much on so many different levels, I feel I will need to absorb it for days. I am certainly watching it again before I send it back. In researching it afterward, I found it was directed by the same man as Away We Go, which I blogged about a while back. I am not surprised. Both take such truthful looks at life today. In this case, the movie is set in the 50s and is based on a book written in the 60s, but it still holds just as true, if not more so, now.

Without giving anything away, the thing that struck me most while watching it was the absolutely terrifying fact that nearly every person, everywhere spends his life wishing it were different. We are in a constant position of desire. This is something apart from hope. Of course we will always hope for things, like that we would all get along, or that the environment would not have to suffer from our being a part of it. But the desire for something different is so common, so comfortable, yet so toxic. We don't even notice we're doing it. It scares me so much to think of it. It's like this giant black hole that sucks up any happiness that truly exists.

The other thing that struck me thinking back on the characters is that we are hardly ever just two people interacting with one another. We are six people interacting. There is the real you, the real other person, the you that you want the other person to see, the other person that the other person wants you to see, the you the other person wants to see, and the other person that you want to see. Whew. How difficult that makes it for us all to "find" ourselves. No wonder most people never do.

It's amazing to look at the truly beautiful things humans can create, as well as the completely destructive things we do to ourselves and each other every minute. This movie was powerful in shining a light on both.



Yes, this is my husband shaving. So we went by Chamblin yesterday and picked up this amazing book of portrait photography, which is my new inspiration. It is full of people just being people. No poses, nothing special. Just day to day stuff. So I followed my husband around a while today just snapping photos to help me get the hang of it. I want to catch people being themselves. Not trying to fit any kind of persona. No poses, but more than just candid- personal. So, here's my first shot. Let's hope I get better!!

Savoring little successes...

Today is a day that will go down in the dewindesigns history book. The day of my first installation! Yes, today I redecorated my father's office with my photography. All three exam rooms. Surprisingly, it was a pretty cool experience. When he first asked me to do it, I was excited. But until I saw them up on the wall, it didn't hit me how cool an offer it really was. It was the first time I really felt like this was my job. And what a cool job it is! His office manager has also asked me to do some custom work of people wearing frames and putting on contact lenses, which I'm really excited about! I never really had a custom request before!

Then, to top the day off, I went to hang out and watch my husband play at Sun Dog, where I am now up to five photos on display (I almost have an entire side of the restaurant)! And, one of the guys who works there said he liked my work and asked if I would do my own art show there. They would play host and I could hang my work throughout the entire place, including a display in their back room, and serve wine and cheese! My very own art show! Needless to say I was stoked at the idea and had trouble wiping the grin off my face the rest of the night. My own show. Not the downtown art show, not the beaches show, the dewin show!!! And, that is exactly what I shall call it! The dewin show! Starring.... dewin! I can't wait! But, first I have much preparing to do.

Then...to put the cherry on top, one of my husband's friends was in from out of town. A friend who just so happens to be a super successful artist who travels all the time showing his work. I got to sit for a spell and chat with him about art, and he took a look at all my photos on the wall and gave me the greatest compliment I have gotten to date- "Your work has a lot of emotion." Wow. That is the one thing that I look for in other people's artwork, as well as writing. And, he said I have it! He said that when you look at my photo, it creates it's own ambiance. I write this partially to pinch myself so that I know it really happened, and partially so I never forget it. Tonight was definitely a successful one for dewindesigns.



As I was watching my husband and his friends play I paid close attention to their faces. Just like watching Donavon sing with his eyes closed, you can see when they've joined with the music because it's in their faces. It's like when John Mayer plays a solo and his mouth gets all contorted. It's rad. I feel like I finally have found that with my writing and my photography. That moment when my fingers are typing at the speed of light without a thought pushing them along. Or like the moment when I just start clicking at nothing and suddenly I have a shot that I end up blowing up to 11x14 and hanging in a doctor's office.

Breaking the rules...

You know how sometimes people talk at the tv when they get all riled up? Well today I talked at my book. I'm still pushing through Dreams from my Father, as I don't get much time to myself for reading. Three pages here, ten there. But, something it related today caught my attention, and made me point to the book and say aloud, "yes!" I'd like to share the passage today. I think it speaks enough on its own.

In this chapter, Obama has just given up a prolific position with a financial company to pursue community organizing with a grass roots group of Chicago-based churches. The following was spoken by a member of one of these churches.

"A lot of black folks in the church...think that as long as they follow the letter of Scripture, they don't need to follow the spirit. Instead of reaching out to people who are hurting, they make them feel unwelcome. They look at people funny unless they're wearing the right clothes to mass, talk proper and all that. They figure they're comfortable, so why put themselves out. Well, Christ ain't about comfort, is he?

It's like this collar I wear. That really gets some of 'em mad. 'Collars are for priests', they tell me. But see, just 'cause I'm married and can't be ordained don't mean I don't have a calling. Ain't nothing in the Bible talking about collars. So I go ahead and wear a collar to let people know where I'm coming from.

It's these rules again that keep us apart- rules of men not rules of God."

Yes.


Love grows.

I took a photo of this vine because I liked how the leaves looked like hearts.

Admiring the beauty of language...

I was talking with my hotel boss yesterday who is from the Phillippines. I forget what got us on the subject, but he was telling me how they took handwriting very seriously in his school there. The students would practice each individual letter fifty times at each lesson. I told him that we, as American teachers, are not allowed to teach handwriting anymore. There simply isn't time for it what with all the more important things we are teaching. He was disappointed to hear this, and I was disappointed to say it. The lack of handwriting instruction has always bothered me, but I never realized why until we started talking. The simple act of handwriting pays homage to the importance of language. As I have mentioned in previous posts, language is one of mankind's greatest achievements- the greatest, if you ask me. All other achievements would have been impossible were we not able to communicate with each other and with future generations. Yet, respect for language is not taught anymore. If it doesn't matter how you shape your E, then why should writing a paper full of letters matter? Everything, it seems, these days is taught so systematically, like a formula. You put your topic sentence here, you throw a detail in here, and a conclusion over there and BAM! You have an essay/paper/piece of regurgitated monotony that borders on plagiarism.

But what is really important about writing? The format? No, not even close. What's important is the ability to bend language to the contours of your thoughts. What comes out of your pen should not be inspired by a pre-set formula, but by your emotions. To pull from last night's post, a relationship with the words is vital. Just as important as the relationship between story and reader is that between story and writer. Good writing elicits feeling from the reader. How can that occur if the writer himself has no emotional connection to the text?

Such an ability is hard sought via formulas. It is a magic born only from a deep-rooted appreciation of language, of letters, of handwriting. A friend of mine recently blogged about calligraphy. She just started a program which teaches it along with its history and greater importance. She discussed how calligraphy is an art, and therefore a type of meditative practice. And, how it encompasses the ability to let the pen lead, while you follow, allowing the art to happen. I love that! (You can check out the rest of her post at Scattering Lupines.)

Language is art. Another gift that children are taught to dismiss and not recognize for its beauty and power. The kind of power I would like to pass on to my students.



Kids need to be connected to stories. To see the interaction involved in reading. Reading is not a solitary, passive activity. When you read, you join the characters and the writer on a very active adventure.

Breaking the cycle...

A friend of mine asked me last week what my favorite movie love story is. I thought for approximately one second, and told her she didn't want to know. She would laugh. But she insisted I tell her, and so I answered, "It sounds so trite, but honestly, I would have to say Titantic." It's just such a well-developed love story. With most movies, I find the relationships, whether romantic or otherwise, so unbelievable. A couple who are complete opposites might fall in love, but we never see what ties them together, or, and this frequently happens, we see a mother and her children throwing out the motions, with absolutely no feeling attached. I hate that in a story. That's one reason I love books. There is so much more opportunity to develop relationships because the writer is not trying to fit everything into two hours, and he doesn't have to worry about the constraints of reality, as with a movie. The most important relationship in a story though, if you ask me, is the relationship between story and reader/audience. And, Titantic definitely has that, times a thousand. It came on tv tonight, and I literally could not tear my teary eyes away, regardless of the fact that I've seen it several times before.

When you watch a movie or hear a story so focused on life or death, it helps you to cut life down to the bare bones. There is a technique I teach my students to help them to get to the core meaning and format of a sentence. First, you knock out all the subordinate clauses, then the prepositional phrases, and finally the adjectives and adverbs. What's left is the pure meaning. All the other junk is just excess information. When I watch Titantic, I see all of life's excess information literally washed away. And what's left are the relationships. Even death could not wipe away the relationships among the characters. Because it is the only thing that matters.

When I see emphasis placed on matters of subordinate importance (in other words, no importance at all), such as how much money one has, as depicted so clearly in the movie, it makes me so angry. It is just like the special I saw on slavery, where Obama visited the spot in Africa where all of the slaves were transported to their death. It is just like Night, in which Elie Wiesel recounts the division and murder of the Jews by the Nazis. But what's worse, it is just like what's going on today. And, not in some random far off, third-world country, but here in the United States. Anytime you weigh one life against another, you are behaving just as our predecessors mentioned above. There is no one thing any person can do to deserve to be lowered in status from another. Not the money in his pocket, not the color of his skin, not the country he hails from, not the religion he practices, not the crimes he's committed, and certainly not the person he has chosen to love. Anytime a person has the sheer audacity to use "reason" to declare superiority, death ensues. If not physical death, then some other kind of death. It has happened throughout history, and it continues to happen. As Spanish philosopher, George Santayana, said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." And, those who do not recognize the traces of the past that bleed into the present, but instead blindly follow, will only cause the cycle to continue.



What if you were asked to weigh which of your children is better? Isn't that in effect what we are asking God to do when we decide we are better than others?

Putting one foot in front of the other...

Every month my supervisor at my teaching job sends out a newsletter that features an article related to our work. This month's contained an article on Henry Winkler, the actor. It discussed how he has dealt with his dyslexia and managed to act, produce, direct, write, and speak, despite his resulting lack of self-esteem. I was impressed with his clarity and determination. Many of the points he made, I thought, echoed some of the topics I have written about in this blog. So, I thought I would list my favorites, along with my thoughts on each.

“It is like fate up against your back, pushing you in a direction,” he says. “Fate’s hands are on your back and they are guiding you to whatever you are supposed to be. I had this powerful desire to be an actor, but I didn’t know how to get there. All I knew is that I wanted it.”

This reminds me of one of my early posts about how I knew even when I was young that I wanted to be a writer and a pilot. As I got older, I started to not trust that inner urge, and started thinking instead about what the most responsible life track would be. But that "push" never left me. It led to a lot of symptoms, like stress, anxiety, and depression. I think most people think these are typical problems, but you know, ever since I started following my "push" more, I am completely less stressed, anxious and depressed. I still make the same amount of money; I still have to pay the same bills; I still have the same job responsibilities; but because I don't have that force backing up inside me, because I have given it an outlet, I feel better, happier.

“And I would never get the job in the beginning,” he says. “I guess the key is, no matter how many times you fall over, you dust yourself off and you keep moving.”

I actually got my first rejection letter a couple of days ago. I had sent some writing samples into a magazine. The funny thing was as sad as I was, I saw it as a badge of achievement. First of all, because I just had the courage to send it in, and second, because that's one rejection letter down. There may be 50 to follow, but I'm one rejection closer to that first wonderful letter of acceptance!

“Don’t get typecast in your own life,” he says. “You cannot assume that somebody can define you. You cannot assume that the other person is right. No matter how they say it to you, no matter with how much force they say, ‘Oh my god, you’ll never make it; oh my god, you’re not bright; you could never do this’—that’s one person. I can’t tell you how many people told me I would never be an actor.”

You know, no one has actually ever told me that I can't be a writer, or a photographer, or even a pilot (though my mom is not thrilled about that one!). It took me until I started this blog to realize that it had been me all those years telling myself that I wasn't good enough. I did it on such a subconscious level, I didn't even notice. An old friend's husband was the first to make me start paying attention to all my negative self-talk. He was a football player, and was huge on the positive effects of positive self-talk. Until then, I hadn't realized how many horrible names I called myself on a daily basis for the smallest mistakes. So a big part of following my push is quieting my mind, and its now habit of immediately responding with, "yeah right, Dewin, you'll never be able to do that".

“The moment you think about trying something new, you can either say—like I did the first time someone mentioned writing books to me—‘I’m sorry, I can’t do that; it’s out of the question, forget it.’ You just dismiss it through your lack of confidence and your lack of imagination. The next time the suggestion was made to me, I was in a different place in my mind and my feelings and I just said ‘OK.’ And then you put one foot in front of the other and you wind up at your destination.”

This reminds me of how I felt the first time I started to think about doing portraits. I always told myself trees were it for me, I couldn't handle the challenge of photographing a person. But now it is something I get really excited about. It still makes me a bit scared until I get started. I feel like, 'what am I doing here?' But, like Mr. Winkler says, you put one foot in front of the other. That's the only way to live.

“What I say when I speak publicly is that everyone in the room has greatness in them,” he says. “It’s just that so many of us are willing to second-guess ourselves and say, ‘No, that couldn’t possibly be the truth.’ And children have a wonderful gift. They have to figure out what that gift is, dig it out and give it to the world—and it could be anything.”

This reminds me again of the quote by Marianne Williamson that my friend posted as a comment to yesterday's entry and that I also quoted back in a June post. We always seem to think that greatness is for other people, like actors, politicians, scientists, and geniuses. But every one of us can be great- if, and only if, we follow our path, the path that was laid out for us. I love it when people refer to what we have to offer as a gift, not for us, but the world. I think it is the perfect metaphor. We all have the power to change lives, to inspire, to make this world the beautiful place it deserves to be. The sad part is how few of us recognize it and use it.



Where will these little feet take me? Will they stand still or will they lead me to my fate? I can only hope. But one thing I do know- they will always wear Converse!

Living with eyes closed...

So, I got to take a short mini mid-week vacation the past couple of days when my husband's band stopped through town. I got to go to two of their shows, and had a blast. I never knew how much I loved to watch music being made until the first time I saw him play over four years ago. I could watch people play and sing all day. It's like seeing creation in motion. It's almost hypnotizing. But this time I noticed something. Three out of five of the guys play practically the entire show with their eyes closed, and the other two do so off and on. It's kind of a beautiful thing to watch them having such an interaction with the music. It feels like you're watching a couple who are madly in love with each other. Nothing comes between them.

It brought to mind my recent post about my battle with freedom of thought vs. concern over how others will view the product. The way they closed their eyes, it was as if they were closing out the world. Not concerned with anyone in the audience, whether they were singing along or dancing. Not concerned with anything else. It always amazes me how musicians can just play. They can just sit down, having not rehearsed a note, and play off each other as though they'd performed that song a million times before. I could never do that. I'm too concerned with what the "right" way to play it is.

So, of course, it made me think about my writing. If only I could have that interaction with words that they have with the music. If only I could close my eyes and shut out the rest of the world, including myself. I asked my husband once if he plans his solos ahead of time. He said sometimes he'll have a vague idea but mostly it just comes to him as the note is hit. How amazing. I sit down to write these blog entries most times with nothing but possibly a metaphor that has struck me, and I just write. I guess it's a similar process. So, why is it so hard to do when writing a book? Maybe I am making it too hard.

I bet if we made more decisions in life with our eyes closed, right at the moment, instead of planning so far ahead, we'd be happier, more fulfilled people, having a true interaction with life. Madly in love with life. In one of my favorite Paramore songs, Haley sings, "It's not faith if you use your eyes." Maybe I need to stop using my eyes so much.



Donavon Frankenreiter, musician extraordinaire.

Taking a break...

I will be traveling out of town this afternoon for a short day trip, so no bloggin for me today. Though, I am already cooking up tomorrow's in my brain. So, please check back then!

Beholding life...

So I was thinking more about art being in the eye of the beholder today, and what a great, and often discarded, gift it is. For instance, I read this book about religion once, and loved it. It confirmed all my current beliefs and more. It was so great that I wanted to share it with some of my friends, whose beliefs are what one might call completely opposite. I thought if they read it, maybe they would understand where I was coming from. Not an attempt to change their views, just to encourage them to respect mine. But I didn't dare show them such sacrilege. So when I found out months later that they had read it and loved it too, I was shocked. Then it occurred to me. I bet the book confirmed all their beliefs too. How could this be possible when we see things so differently? Because art is in the eye of the beholder. We pull from things what we want, what we need at that moment. Like with Obama's book. To me his words on racism are lost, mostly floating through one ear and straight out of the other, because I have no prior knowledge for them to attach to. But they opened my eyes to someone else's viewpoint, if only slightly. But for someone else who has dealt with racism his whole life, I am sure Obama's words would have an entirely different significance.

If you acknowledge your ability to do this- to draw your own meaning from the things around you, you can totally use it to your advantage. You know how you learn a new word, and then suddenly you start seeing it everywhere? It's not that it magically started appearing at exactly the same time you first learned it. It's that it was there all along, you just never absorbed it. So, knowing this, we have the power to focus our energies on positive things, things that make us happier. This is why people keep gratitude journals. If you are purposely looking out for the things in your life that you are grateful for, you are going to find a heck of a lot more than had you not formed that intention. You might start with the obvious- I am thankful for my family. But, soon you will be noticing the tiniest of tiny things, like the feel of cool air on your leg, or the warmth of the water covering you in the shower.

It's like with this blog, I always thought about things in my life- my goals, my path. But until I started really listening to myself I never realized how much I had to say. Much like art, everything in life is open to the eye of the beholder. In fact, life is art. Look outside your window at a painting, listen to the symphony of a ceiling fan, read the story of your life. You might be surprised what you find.



So many stories are out there. What will yours be?

Judging judgement...

After completing my blog about racism last night, I literally felt sick. I couldn't sleep, and as soon as I woke up and remembered it, I was immediately anxious. I drove to work wondering, did I offend anyone? Did I say something that would incite any kind of defense? Because, of course, this is not my intention. I have wanted to delete posts before due to their lameness, but never have I had to physically restrain myself from the delete key because I worried what people would think. It gave me a new respect for Obama. He writes completely candidly in his book about how little he has suffered from racism in comparison to some, yet how strongly it has affected his sense of self. But the greatest part is that he does so honestly, minus the "why me" pity party and without walking on eggshells so that no one gets offended. And, today I realized how important that is to the process of creation.

When my husband started playing with a well-known musician, I decided that no longer would I talk poorly about any musician or artist of any type. If ever anyone said anything negative about his music, my first reaction was to be a little hurt, but my main reaction was that it is a ridiculous claim. Because whether or not a certain kind of music has an effect on one person, it obviously does on several others. For which reason, I realized I can't talk crap about bands or singers that I personally don't like, no matter how strongly I dislike their work. Because to someone somewhere, even if only one, that music has meant something. And, that is all is takes to make a valuable artist. It is the same with any other art form, including writing. If some incident or statement affects just one, it is worthy of being heard. Art truly is in the eye, or ear, of the beholder.

You know, Gwen Stefani has actually stated in interviews that she can't go on her own band's forums because of all the negative postings about her and the band. I've always wondered, why would a non-fan waste their time posting on a band's site they don't even like? (It's that need to be right showing its ugly face again.) How sad that she is unable to interact with her true fans and hear all the positive things, because these critics feel the need to state their opinions, rudely and loudly. No one is going to like everything. But why must some be so hateful about it? Sure, we all deserve the right to say what we think, but when it is done in such a hateful way as some, I question the impulse behind it. Why would a person not put all his energy into loving what he loves, instead of hating what he doesn't? It just seems to me that that would be a more healthy- and happy- way to exist.


This is Toadie. He hung out with me today while I read my book and took a most glorious nap in my hammock in the sun.

Examining power and control...

I was standing behind the counter today at work when a lady walked in the door. Luckily she went up to my coworker, and he proceeded to check her in. As he did, she described how she had attempted to make a reservation through our 1-800 number, but that an "Indian" had taken her call and she couldn't understand a word he said, which angered her. She went on to say that he didn't know what he was talking about, and that an American surely needed his job more than he himself did. Normally when people say ignorant things like this I can brush them off. But this time I felt sick to my stomach and was overtaken with the urge to run away.

I've been plowing through my book, Dreams from my Father, the last couple weeks, and am now reading through Obama's teen years and his struggle with racism. And, I noticed upon reading it that I had no clue what he was talking about. Everyone thinks they know what racism is because they think they can imagine what its like or because they saw The Color Purple, but after reading this book, I realize that none of us has a clue how many tiny aspects of the universe it infiltrates and alters and in what way. I felt kind of bad reading it, since I too am "multiracial", as his friend refers to it- in truth, we all are- but have never dealt with any such prejudice aimed towards me, at least that I'm aware of. Other than the couple of times someone said some disparaging remark about Mexicans, not knowing I am "one of them", and the person I am with looks at me under their eyes to see my reaction. But it never bothered me.

The most compelling part of the book so far, though, for me, is his description of the time his own grandmother, who is white, was fearful of a panhandler because he was black. But that's not the intriguing part. It was when he told his older black friend about it and he responded to Barack that his grandmother was correct to understand that black people have something to be angry about. Something about that exchange made it clear to me that this subject is so unclear, so muddled and mixed into our everyday life that it may just be impossible to sort out. I almost didn't want to blog about it, because there's so much to discuss it's almost impossible, so why even try?

But, something about the humanness of it causes my brain wheels to start turning. This idea of "better" is just out of my cognitive reach. Better is just another dangerous modifier. But, I wonder- when was this idea born, and from whom? Where does this arrogance come from? It reminds me of when I worked in a domestic violence shelter and learned that abuse is all about power and control, not sex or having your house perfectly clean. And that to me is what racism is all about. Power and control- the goals of fearful people. Which brings me back to fear of the unknown. Instead of pushing people who are different away into separateness, why can't we simply appreciate? It is impossible to view people without some lines. In fact, I'm proud of mine. I love being Mexican. But it's when those lines separate, instead of connect, that we fall short. Once that need to be "right" (or "better") falls away, suddenly differences become positive things, and not negative.


To see the world through the eyes of an animal, free of unnecessary complications, like self-centeredness. Animals, like children, are self-centered in such a way that begets their survival. Adults are self-centered in such a way that hinders their's. When does that crossover occur? At what point do we develop our desire for power and control? And, most importantly, what for?

Connecting with our past...

I like old stuff. Whether it's an old building or just an old door. Whether it's a fort, ruins, or a graveyard. Whether it's an antique spoon or an old photo. I love it. I feel a connection to it. The older, the better.

Today I ventured around the "old south" also known as Green Cove Springs with my friend and simultaneous modeling victim. It's a trip I've been wanting to take for over a year. Green Cove may not be the most glamorous place in the world, but it boasts amazing finds, like old movie theaters, shacks, and silos, as well as farmland and dirt roads. The good, true parts of the South that remind me how deeply I am connected to my Tennessee ancestors. I asked her to grab her cowboy boots and hat and we took off down the road, stopping as we found inspiring backdrops. It was a lot of fun. I still don't really know what I'm doing with portrait photography, so I just follow my gut. And, it's a little easier when you already have a relationship with the setting and characters.

We came across a beautiful old dirt road shaded on both sides by huge oaks. We found horse farms and cows in a pasture. We stopped off at a log cabin, and an old store. We visited a graveyard with inhabitants who missed the turn of the century- last century. We hung out on the steps of an old church. Then headed downtown, where we used an old storefront full of garbage and antique toys as scenery, as well as the old movie theater next door that still has the separate entrances that defined segregation. All these things are part of our past, and part of us.

I love old things because they are so full of life. So many lives. From so long ago. They inspire a feeling in me of connection to something greater. Something unknown, yet familiar. Something mysterious. Something amazing.



This is a shot we got next to an old dilapidated store. I love this one. I love that the history of Green Cove still stands, and that not all of it has gone the way of the strip mall. I will be putting together a collection from today's shoot on my flickr site in the next few days, if you would like to view more. The address is: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dewindesigns/

Peeling away the layers of opinion...

You know, I've noticed something lately. All the really strong opinions I've had now and in the past have all been based on fears. Really really strong ones. For instance- my strong opinions that simple is better when it comes to photography and that Photoshop equals fake. Obviously a sad attempt to cover a blatant fear of not yet understanding something. Coupled with a lack of faith in myself to learn. Topped off with a resignation to mediocrity. Peelin' away the layers...

At first, I used to think being opinionated was a bad thing. It meant you were loud and rude and didn't listen to other people's views. Then, I changed my tune and thought it was a good thing. Knowing where you stand on every issue means you've taken the time to think things through. Now, of course, in my on-going attempt to throw out modifiers, I feel it is neither nor, but, for me, only a ruse. It's a disguise that my fears wear to throw me off track. Man, fear is a shifty bastard.

So now I want to examine all my super strong opinions and get to the root of them. And, in doing so, I have noticed that several of them are based on a simple fear of the unknown. I've written before about people's overwhelming urge to be "right", whatever that is, and I feel like this goes along with it. There are certain things (and lots of them), that as long as we only have the human mind and equally oppressed spirit of this realm with which to view them, will never be understood. Yet, we attach ourselves to an opinion about them and then fight each other over it. Why? Isn't the human race able to just accept that some things are unknown? Dare I say, even rejoice in such a realization? I like to believe it's possible, but I think it's a ways off.

Today I was reading an article in the USA Today about a new documentary on the exploitation of dolphins for human enjoyment, The Cove. And the question posed itself to me: when will we ever be able to appreciate something just by looking at it from afar? Why do we feel the need to invade its habitat and study it until it no longer exists in its natural form? It's the old Harry and the Hendersons dilemma. Harry was perfectly fine in the woods in seclusion. Why force the human world on him? Then, you've got the examples of Nell, Howie Mandel in Walk Like a Man, and Darryl Hannah in Splash. Everyone can sympathize with those characters. So why not the players in our real lives?

My point is that attaching oneself to an opinion about something simply as a means to try to understand it can be a very dangerous thing, especially if it points to a deep-seated fear within- a fear of the unknown. Some things need to be left unknown. Knowledge does not equal appreciation.



When we are children, we certainly don't know everything. But does that mean children are less worthy? They certainly aren't less happy. When we burden our mind with things that it cannot possibly unlock, how does that further us as individuals, or as a species? Some knowledge is helpful, some questions need to be answered. But some I can't help help but feel should be let go as a sign of respect. We were not built to know everything, so why do we keep trying?

Growing some balls...

I was thinking more on the idea of expectations this morning. But, this time, instead of thinking of their positive effects, I started thinking about their negative effects. For a long time, writing this blog came easily to me. I would sit down at night with no idea of what would emerge, and end up closing my laptop with this feeling of satisfaction with what I had written. I felt so satisfied, actually, that I wanted to keep reading my posts over and over. I had to force myself to go to bed. I haven't felt like that in over a week. Now, when I sit down, my brain starts critiquing before my fingers can even start moving. I'm not inspired. I haven't loved anything I've written in a while. In fact, it's been quite the opposite. I've woken up the next morning several times with the overwhelming urge to get online quick and delete my last post. I've been wondering why in the back of my mind; and this morning, on my way to work, it hit me. It's because people liked my writing.

When I started this blog, as I have said many times, I really didn't think anyone would read it. But then people started telling me they were. And, enjoying it. It was inspiring at first. It still is. But slowly but surely my self-imposed expectations have managed to seep in again. I have this habit of feeling like people expect me to be perfect, when really it's me that expects it. So, now that there is this "expectation" out there for me to write something interesting, I feel I have to keep it up.

And then, something even bigger hit me. I've always known that I personally damn myself from success. When I used to play piano, I could never, not once, get through an entire song without making at least one mistake. Because once I would get past the first half of the song perfectly, I would start thinking, ok I'm gonna mess up anytime now, I'm gonna mess up. And, lo and behold, I would. Today I finally realized why.

Since my formative years, I have always seen myself as mediocre. At my college prep high school, I was smart, but I was never the smartest. I was athletic, but not nearly the most athletic. I was pretty, but not the prettiest. I was nice, but not the nicest. So I kind of figured that I was born to be in the middle. It was just who I was. I could be good at piano, but I'd never be great. Now I see that it is not because I was born that way, but because I wanted it that way.

When you're "stuck" in the middle, you can always look up. Success is always just out of reach. You're constantly filled with hope that one day you will play like Billy Joel (or publish that book). And you truly believe you will. But, instead you keep yourself in the middle, because if you ever rise too high and can't hold yourself up, the fall down is long and hard and embarrassing.

Hearing that people actually liked my writing was- I can't even describe it. But I guess it was too much of a high for me, so again, I jinxed myself into messing up, into thinking too much about my thinking. Not trusting myself, my Source. Fearing what I've always feared most: failure. I don't want to be the best. It's too scary. Being mediocre is safe... and lame.

I can't even let myself own the little success of having a handful of people compliment me. It's too much. So I sit here talking all this big talk about books this and photography that. But until I grow some balls and quit being afraid of heights, I'm not going anywhere. I'll just remain here, stuck in the middle.



The tree is my hero. Never wavering in the storm. Always reaching towards the sun. Strong, yet beautiful. Cheesy metaphors I hope to someday emulate.

Raising my expectations...

I was thinking more tonight about where all the porches have gone. I was thinking that they are not only gone because we no longer make time to sit and think, but also because we don't trust each other anymore. We don't know our neighbors, many of us, because we hole ourselves up in our houses at night, tightly tucked in behind doubly locked doors, bars, and alarm systems. At the hotel where I work, we have to charge deposits because some people will take anything that's not nailed down. When discussing decorating an office, I was informed I couldn't put anything in the bathroom, because it will walk away. Even when I worked in a domestic violence shelter, people would concoct stories of abuse just to get free stuff. And why shouldn't they? It's been set up for them that way.

I remember seeing a story on one of those 20/20 type shows a few years back about this little town that had a bicycle shop, I believe it was. They would loan out bikes and ask that when people returned them after hours, they leave the money in a slot. Now, I could have this story completely mixed up, but the point was that the owners expected the customers to be honest. And they were. Not once had anyone stolen their merchandise or not left a payment. The lesson? Maybe by setting up all these safeguards to "protect" us, we are in effect setting ourselves up to be taken advantage of. Maybe if we doled out more trust in advance, it would be earned in return.

It's like with a kid. If you keep telling him he's not good enough, pretty soon he's going to start believing it. Adults too, actually. If nothing is expected of them, then that's exactly what you will get from them- nothing. But if we expect more from each other, just maybe we'll get it.



This is a perfect example of how sometimes a photo just doesn't do its content justice. I am posting it, though it's not the greatest photo, because it was a beautiful sight. This past week I have seen some of the most amazing thunderstorms I have ever seen in my life. And living in Florida, I have seen a lot. One minute the sky is beautiful, right off a postcard, and the next minute it's the end of the world, a scene right out of the Wizard of Oz. But then, after the sky has fallen, a break forms in the clouds, and it's the most glorious sight. This was what I saw tonight as I walked out of the hotel, and I just stopped in my tracks. Sometimes I feel like the sky is my constant reminder that the world is an unimaginably huge magnificent place. And, I am lucky to be a part of it.

Honoring thought...

Tonight a friend came over and we watched the movie, The Man in the Moon, not to be confused with Man in the Moon. For those of you poor souls who have never had the joy of watching this movie, it is set in rural Louisiana in the 1950s. Although I have seen it close to a million times, tonight my favorite part (well, second favorite) was a scene where the oldest daughter is sitting on the front porch steps late at night by herself staring at the ice in her glass. It looked like such a great experience. Just sitting and staring. How many of us today sit on our front porch, or anywhere for that matter, and stare at the ice in our glass, lost in our thoughts? Few, if any. This is evidenced by the fact that few houses even have front porches anymore. We don't have time for our thoughts, and we certainly don't have time to be with ourselves. Parents are so focused on their kids; adults so focused on their work; kids so focused on their drama. No one just sits and thinks anymore. A friend recently sent me a quote from a book he is reading called A Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson. It said that "upon swinging his feet out of bed in the morning, Issac Newton would reportedly sometimes sit for hours, immobilized by the sudden rush of thoughts to his head". What a wonderful thing to honor this God-given ability to think! It is, of course, the only thing that separates us from the apes. That and our ability to accessorize. (We watched Steel Magnolias, too.)

This, in essence, is what this blog has become for me- an honoring of the beauty of thought. A completely unexpected unintentional happening- my favorite kind.



Juliet may call it "inconstant", but I call it constant. Constant in its change. Just as we are. One way to not only honor that change, but adapt to it is to give space to our thoughts.

Living inside out...

So far my improved focus is paying off. The list in my project log is getting ticked away day by day. My photography business is doing great. I just sold a framed print at the Sundog and am taking three more there this week; I am in the process of scheduling two portrait shoots (if it would just stop raining!); I just started offering my photo boxes at Ashes' Boutique; and I am completely redecorating a doctor's office. Sure, it happens to be my father's, but hey, business is business! And the more I put my work out there, the more people will be exposed to it.

In other inspiring news, my trip to Mexico for the Dia de los Muertos festival is in its last phase of being finalized. I am certain I will get tons of amazing shots- and inspiration for my writing- there, with all the colors and celebration, and the magic of the ruins. And, fingers crossed, I may be traveling over to Hawaii for New Years! I can't wait to go hiking in both places, and see landscapes and people so beautiful and full of spirit.

Following up on yesterday's post, I made a conscious effort throughout the day today to stay in the present. Whenever I caught myself thinking about what I needed to get done, I stopped myself immediately and did whatever I felt in that moment. And, the strange thing is- I got more accomplished today than I have in a long time. I guess it's like I mentioned in my post on guilt- when I think about everything as an obligation, I feel guilt, which makes me useless. When I just do what I feel at that precise moment, whether it happens to be cleaning the house or sitting on my duff watching tv, it just feels better. It feels natural and not forced. It just so happens I like cleaning the house. But only when its on my terms and not because I am forcing myself. It's so remarkable how something can completely change depending on your point of view. Life isn't just a string of obligations. It's a string of experiences. Only it doesn't feel that way unless you live it from the inside out, and not the other way around.



This is one of the lions that guard our neighbors' house. I've always loved them; don't ask me why. Maybe it's because they remind me of Grograman, The Many Colored Death, of The Neverending Story. He was a lion who befriended Bastian and who changed color depending on that of the sand around him. So, today on my walk I snapped a quick photo of him. I had fun playing around with the Gaussian Blur filter. It took some time to make sure everything but the lion was blurred. But I think it turned out pretty cool. I guess if the lion represents strength, and Grograman represents change, we could gather from the story that strength comes from the ability to change depending on your surroundings. I like that.

Traveling back to the present...

I have been staring at a blank screen for the past hour. Starting posts and then holding down the delete button as they disappear. Once one starts, I stop to think what it will look like in the end, ultimately decide it's stupid, and press delete. It brought to mind the image of a chess game. You know, you have to be like 20 moves in the future in your head before you make your current move. And, here I sit, playing chess, trying to determine how this post will end before it's even begun.

It's a habit of mine, a tough one to break. When I was younger, in high school and college, like many people that age I would guess, I was always focused on the future. I couldn't wait to grow up, get married, have kids. Yet there I was in college, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. The rest of my life. It's this common ideal that is truly a farce- a fuzzy picture that doesn't even really exist. Yet my world revolved around it. I couldn't be happy where I was because I was never there. I was hanging out at "the rest of my life".

Yet, in the past few years, I've overcome that. I like the fact that life can change in an instant. It's exciting. I don't deign to believe that what I am doing now or who I am being right now will exist in "the rest of my life". Nor do I pretend that I can predict what will. But as I stared at this blank screen, worrying about the valuable sleep I am losing, it became clear that now I am living in "the next five minutes". I may not worry anymore about when and if I will have kids, whether I will be in the same jobs next year, how I will look when I'm forty. Now I focus on how will this blog end, when I'm done typing what will I do next, how will I deal with this difficult situation tomorrow, etc., etc. I'm still living in the future. Whether it is the near or distant future, it is still dangerous. And, it's no fun.

I went to a seminar once on dealing with anger, and this one lesson was the one that struck me out of all of them. It was in reference to daily problems or stresses. The instructor said, one of two things will happen with all of your problems. One, they will somehow work out- so you don't need to worry about them. Or, two, there is no solution, so, therefore, no point in worrying about them. Either way, there's no need to worry. My life coach says, "you can't worry your carpet red". Worry is not an active verb, it is entirely passive. Hence, it has no point.

I would love to represent that. I would love to dive into my life, not worried or focused on the outcome, even if only seconds away. This is what Tolle talks of as "the power of now". Right now, there are no problems. It's when you live in the future or the past that problems exist. It's finally starting to make sense.



Seeing the light that is the present.

Replacing yes with no...

I have always had this problem with saying "no" to people. Anyone- family, friends, complete strangers. My husband is always telling me I need to stand up for myself, think of my needs first, take care of myself, demand what I deserve. But after thirty years of it, the word yes just comes out automatically before I can even think. The other day a friend asked me to do them a favor. To do so would have really messed up my plans. So I took my husband's advice and said no. But even then, I found myself thinking, well my plans aren't that important. Maybe his are more important. And I stopped and listened to my thoughts. Am I really trying to measure the importance of my needs compared to another's? How would one even measure such a thing? And, who's to say mine aren't more important? Bottom line, it shouldn't matter. I saw how ludicrous my thought process is about these things. I'm always switching around my schedule for other people even if it means I get no sleep, have to stay up late, or miss out on things I really wanted to do. No wonder I have no time for my writing and photography.

So, now the question is- how do I, first, say no, and second, deal with the guilt that hits afterwards? Changing my thought process is definitely number one. But what to change it to? How do I make myself understand that no one is going to hate me if I can't do everything? Or that my priorities are just as important as others'? Where's Tom Hanks when you need him? Oh well, this one will just have to remain a work in progress.



So, this was a fun photo shoot! Had anyone seen me doing it, they probably would've called the asylum. But this is my attempt to depict my self-deprecating habit of measuring my worth. It was a fun challenge to get. A little "darker" than I usually do. Most times I try to be more uplifting with my work. But again, I am using this blog to test the many waters of photography- a little of everything.