Monday, December 28, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
The expression "here and now" just popped into my head. It's the title and one of the songs on my son's band's new CD, but it's also meaningful in other ways.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
At the top of this blog, in the header picture, you'll see how it looked in my area in late October. As I previously promised, I am updating with this post, showing how one of my favorite spots looks now in early December. (different location than the header photo.)
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
How do you feel about charities?
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
I've just gone over this passage again, making a few more snips. I keep finding new things to fix.
So what's your writing method? Keep fixing as you go, or wait 'til later?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Okay, my final blog post about the colors of autumn. I just need to embrace the beauty of fall before it slips away.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Today was very windy, leaves swirling all about, so I thought I'd better capture a few more images on camera before the trees are bare.
Friday, October 23, 2009
As promised, I went out and snapped a few fall pictures to show the contrast of the changing seasons. Many of the trees around me are beautiful right now; it's so nice to see those blazing shades of yellow, orange and red as I'm driving about or off on a bike ride.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Twenty-four years ago yesterday I wore a white dress, white shoes, a touch of jewelry and my best smile. A nervous smile, I might add. I remember something my mother once said about sitting across the breakfast table at her husband and thinking, "Who is this man?" Sure, I knew the man I was marrying, but did I really know him? Ah, but twenty-four years later, I know him quite well!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
How would you describe these flowers? Are they pink and white or are they more than that? Do they need to be more than that?
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Originally, I had some photos of my workspace posted. But since someone thought my desk looked a little too neat, I decided to take a few pics of its messier status. Now, I tried to edit the original post and move some things around, but technology doesn't like me very much, so I wound up removing the whole ball of wax.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
"Rows and flows of angel hair
and ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere,
I've looked at clouds that way."
Joni Mitchell had a nice way of describing what clouds look like. Very accurate, too, I must say. Today when I was taking my walk I decided to study some clouds and photograph them, too.
I think most of us can remember lying on the grass as a child, staring up at the clouds. We challenged one another to try to describe the shapes we saw, to find the hidden pictures. There were dragons, castles, witches, angels...or maybe nothing more than just a girl's flowing hair stretching across the sky.
I wrote a haiku about clouds once:
Clouds filter through steel
branches, unraveling threads
of sky tapestry.
What do you see in the clouds?
Saturday, October 3, 2009
So, I wanted to write some humorous greeting cards the other day, but for the life of me, I just couldn't think funny. How do you say something funny on command? I can't do it, but perhaps some people can. I'm sure Jim Carrey and Robin Williams aren't funny 24 hours a day. They must have their off moments. It's great to have a script in front of you filled with funny lines, but what if you don't? We're all humans, capable of multiple emotions, so you would think we all have times when we just don't feel funny.
Monday, September 28, 2009
I was looking at this picture I took recently and trying to determine what it signifies. Besides the obvious--a couple of pink flowers poking through an old fence--maybe one could go a little further and say it represents something new coming from something old, or something new and beautiful blossoming in an old and ugly world.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
There are mysteries out there. Some are big ones, some are small. My fascination with houses extends beyond the houses themselves; I also wonder about the people who dwell within them.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
I like to look at houses from the street. I find them fascinating. When I'm out taking my walks I check out homes--the colors, windows, fences, yards, flowers--everything that makes each home unique. I try to imagine who lives within the walls; is it a couple? Old or young? A family? Little kids or older ones? A single person? There are some indications if one tries to find them.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
boats on the bay
flowers and flag
sunflowers are us
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
A certain topic on the writer's site I frequent got me thinking. It dealt with the aging process and how people feel about milestone birthdays: turning 30, 40, 50, etc. Also, the question of whether it's better to "look good" or to "feel good." Or does one guarantee the other?
Friday, August 7, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
I used to take a lot of photographs of my kids when they were little. Believe me, I did. My kids were always such fascinating subjects, in my estimation, that almost anything they did was picture-worthy. Unlike my husband, I felt tub pictures were off-limits. No naked kiddos. My father snapped the occasional naked baby on a bearskin rug photo when I was growing up, but not I.
Friday, July 31, 2009
I snapped this picture of a windmill one day while driving around Newport. I've always found windmills interesting and kind of poetic.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
A bare room. Starting over. What is the essence of a room without color, carpeting, curtains, and the furniture and possessions that make it personal, make it come alive to the person who dwells within it?