my sweet rocky boy

 

my sweet rocky went to kitty heaven today.

 

he was the best cat. sweet, soulful, and smart, with big curious eyes, and extra toes making his paws seem extra large. he liked using those mitts (thus the name rocky); he had a penchant for opening closet doors. and he had just the right sensibility when it came to snuggling. not completely in my face like my other (bratty) cat, but always around, sleeping at the foot of the bed but never pinning my feet under the covers. we lived well together.

i'd never been sure how old he was because i got him as an adult from the humane society. and i'm sad to say he did not die from old age. 

i'm not 100% sure, but i think he ate some leftover grass after my yard was sprayed for weeds. normally i wouldn't have the yard sprayed, but all the grass and plants had been ripped out in preparation to completely redo the yards. the gardeners chose a supposedly non-toxic and organic spray, and i OKed it. the label said it was safe.

the main ingredients in this spray are clove oil and citric oil. sounded harmless enough to me, natural, essential oils. great. but our vet explained citric oil is toxic to cats. 

i will be so much more careful in the future. but i thought this information was worth sharing. it could save a kitty's life.

this is the last photo i took of rocky this last week, trying to coax him to drink water.  

monday memories / the sporting life: the politics of soccer

i'm sharing some of my sporting life with you in this monday memories series. last week's story was about swimming when i was a wee one ... 

with the years came more swimming, and tree climbing, jumping off big rocks into water, and everything active and physical. that was MY THING. that's what i was good at. i was given a strong body and a desire to WIN! 

born in 1961, i learned early that it was a man's world. [it really was back then.] and i wanted to be a part of that world. that world = freedom. and i always wanted freedom. so i figured i had to be as good as the boys. and so i was. [i think this is one of the reasons i became a photographer and a photojournalist, which was also a man's world and an exciting one full of freedom and adventure.]

i disdained anything that was "girlie." no cooking, no sewing, none of that girl stuff. [i love all that stuff now, but then, no way josé.] my mom wasn't so inclined either, which didn't bode well for me learning any homey skills. anyway, i was all tomboy, and happily so. 

our neighborhood was full of kids playing out on the streets, and i played with all the boys and one other tomboy girl. chase. tag. kick the can. then later football, basketball, baseball. once in awhile the boys wanted to play with only boys, which i totally get now. but at the time it was devastating. and just made me work harder to be better at sports.

in middle school PE class, we girls had to wear navy blue sleeveless jumpers with little attached skirts and with bloomers underneath, a bit like a tennis dress without the cute factor. humiliating.

title IX legislation was passed in 1972. equal opportunity for boys and girls in high school and collegiate sports.

No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance...

soccer had come to the west coast when i was about 12 and i got on the first local girls team. we played against the boys and held our own. our coaches were all men. one coach, a british man, quit on us right before a game! we were talkative, rowdy, inattentive. we were preteen girls, for god's sake, what did he expect?! he had no clue how to handle a gang of girls. we kept playing because we loved it. 

running around outdoors after a ball with a bunch of kids = pure freedom.

in high school, i played varsity soccer and basketball all four years. voted "most athletic" my senior year. (excelling as powder puff quarterback may have helped.) 

at lewis & clark college in portland, oregon, i stuck with my true love: soccer. 

my three roommates helped me get psyched up before games. we'd dance on our desks and sing queen's "don't stop me now"  into our hairbrushes.

my team played in the fog and the rain and the mud and the glorious sunshine. travelled all over the pacific northwest in the autumn and saw leaves turning for the first time in my life. 

i didn't have the greatest ball handling skills or the most finesse. i even broke my own teammate's collarbone when i went in to steal the ball from an opponent but got her foot instead. but my teammates liked me (except maybe collarbone girl). they even made up a lovingly teasing little song for me. they sang to me one whole season after i handballed in the penalty box resulting in a winning penalty kick by the other team. to the tune of "falderie falderal":

hillareeeee, hillaraaaaaah, hillareeeeee, hillarahahahahahah,

hillareeeeee, hillaraaaaaaah, with handball in the box!

i was strong and fearless on the field. and a good team player. team captain, mvp, all star team, all that. but the best was yet to come ... 

at the end of my junior year, we found out that the college washed the men's varsity team uniforms. but not the women's. a couple of us questioned the head of the women's athletic department who fumbled her words and replied, "we always thought the women preferred to wash their own uniforms." hah! yeah, with all our spare time in college, we'd rather wash our own uniforms ... not!

so several of us on the team decided to make a statement. my senior year on the soccer team, we decided to NOT WASH our uniforms all season long. only two of us made it the whole season, sheila and i. we did not wash our shirts, shorts or socks. not once. after playing in the mud and muck, i'd throw my uniform onto a piece of plastic i laid out in my room and not pick it up again til the next game. i'd have to put on stiff-with-dirt socks and all. gross. and i think our teammates and coach weren't thrilled for us to begin a game in dirty clothes. but since i had seen so much unfairness in the world since i was little, i was committed to my cause.

at the end of the season, sheila and i placed our dirty uniforms in brown paper bags with a note and left them on the doorstep of the women's athletic director. we asked that the women be treated equally with the men. we asked that all the women's varsity teams have their uniforms washed by the school, just like the men. 

and lo and behold, the following year, the year after i graduated ... lewis & clark washed all the women's uniforms! 

who knew the most political act i would ever commit would be on a soccer field?

~~~~~

lessons learned: go with what you've been given. play fair. do right.

love and other bits: a valentine's day tribute

 

new to life. beautiful little girl betty.

middle life. beautiful grown up betty. who happened to be one of my mom's best friends. she passionately loved food and opera. stroganoff and puccini.

later in life. betty married and gave the world two boys and a girl who became my best friend sue.

yesterday sue's dear mom betty left this place for the other. 

may peace be with us all, and especially with sue and with betty. 

at times like these, it does seem that life is but a dream. a dream full of love and other bits.

ps - dear betty, please say hi to my mom for me.

monday memories / the sporting life: the early years

this is the beginning of another series of monday memories (similar to the "RTW trip" series) called "the sporting life." i'd like to share some of my sporting stories with you!

not to be confused with the yesteryear definition of "sporting" which my father explained meant "loose woman." i used to own a boutique stock photography agency called "see jane run" with the tagline "pictures of sporting women." i had to convince my dad that the term had shifted since his early days.

that is not what we're talking about here!

nope. this is just about my sporting life which started as soon as i could walk. or run. or climb. or swim.

even at four years old, i LOVED to swim. 

we didn't have a pool of our own, but we had friends, clubs, friends' clubs, and vacations. and my grandma had a pool. my parents took me for swim lessons in chinatown; i guess they had a good pool there. i couldn't get enough of the water.

jumping       diving       sliding      gliding       splashing       floating

hours and hours were spent in whatever pool we visited, pretending i was a fish. i'd stay underwater for as long as my little lungs could manage. with tummy touching bottom, wriggling along catfish-style for long spells until i had to surface, gasping for air, now pretending i was a dolphin with blowspout.

"adult swim" were dirty words in my narrow vocabulary, bringing a frown to my sunbrowned cheeks.

when my parents called me out of the pool at the end of a long day, i'd lie face down on the warm pool deck and they'd cover me with a sun-kissed towel. i closed my eyes and inhaled the wet cement smell. spent. exhausted. bliss.born on march 21, first day of spring, first day of aries, on the cusp with pisces ... water is in my consciousness. i dream of water frequently. flying and diving into great bodies of water.

and i was given a strong body. a body made to move. 

i was also fearless. i loved to dive, bouncing and flying and diving into the pool. when i was about eight, a coach saw me playing on the high dive and asked my parents if he could coach me to be an olympic diver. 

shortly after that meeting, i developed ear problems and had to wear ear and nose plugs while swimming for many years. diving was verboten. the olympics were not my fate. (i was eventually in a different kind of olympics, which i'll tell you about in a few weeks.)

i did join the local swim team when i was about 10 or 12 and excelled in the backstroke, IM (one lap each of fly - back - breast - free) and freestyle. 

a competitor was born!

~~~~~

lessons learned: whatever we loved as children -- when we were at our purest -- is really what we love always. is what makes our heart soar. keep doing that.

+++++

what did YOU love as a child? are you still loving/doing that?

monday memories: mom

yesterday, a stunning eight years ago, my mom went into the light.

some people say that a light went out. and that's true. a force, a life force, a shining light of human existence (even though she was imperfect, human and didn't always act in *lightly* ways). extinguished for all eternity. 

but when someone dies, they also go into the light. the light of eternity.

i see it both ways. we are the light and the light is here all around us. the light IS eternity. we are eternity. 

my mom was many things to many people, just like everyone is.

she was warm and funny, controlling and manipulative, hilarious and generous, bitter and mean. loving. hating. she was just like everyone else. light and dark. but the light is what remains.

i have learned much since my mom's passing. about a year after she died, i wanted to know ... where did she go? i started reading about death. i'm fascinated by it. and not at all afraid. apprehensive perhaps, but not afraid. because i know about the light. (more on that, another time).

there has been much death around me lately ... robbie, and my friend's mom, and many anniversaries of death. i have heard that there are many more deaths around this time of year -- end of december, beginning of january. i have heard it's because the "veil in thinner" at this time of year, the material and spiritual worlds closer. tried researching death statistics. to no avail. anyone?

i don't mean to be morbid. and i don't mean to be insensitive. death is soooooooooo painful for those left behind. believe me, i know.

mom, i miss you. i still want to call you at important times, to tell you all about whatever it is. and after the passing urge to pick up the phone, i remember. you are not here to call. so i "call" you in the way that i can now, speaking to your spirit, feeling you, feeling your love. you never shied away from speaking about your own death. thank you for that. you said, when i die honey, i'll be in the clouds looking down on you.

so i used to talk to mom in the clouds. and when there are no clouds, like at night, i talk to her anyway. i don't need clouds anymore. she is the light, and the light is all around, even when it's dark.

I saw eternity the other night, like a great ring of pure and endless light.

- Henry Vaughan

 

into the light

 ... dear robbie went to the light this week ...

 

 

what a great loss for us all, for the planet! 

in her presence, i felt seen and loved just as i am. she never tried to change me or fix me, but guided me gently with heart, compassion and wisdom -- the greatest of gifts anyone could ever bestow. she showed up in my life when my mom died and provide me with "mom-energy" which i needed and cherished so much. and she was HI-LAR-I-OUS, such fun to be with. we typically shared chinese food and closed many a restaurant down, lingering with our tea, fortunes and laughter. robbie, thank you for being my friend. 

her husband of forever wrote this letter to friends and family, and he said i could share it with you here. how lucky were they to have found each other and lived so many years, so well-matched? and how hard that must be to lose one's match?

my heart goes out to robbie's family and friends, to her husband and children. may peace be with you.

 

Dear Family and Friends,

Just after my mother died, an ancient rabbi told me that the good die young: God wants all the good people close to him. I was 15, not much of a believer, and those words passed over my head. They came back to me today.

Robbie died yesterday. She was brave, concerned always with helping and supporting others, and relentlessly optimistic. More than 60 people visited her bedside in the last four days of her life. But she couldn't prevail against a massive hospital-derived infection on top of her aggressive uterine cancer and, with the best care possible -- the UCSF intensive care unit and full life support -- she was unable to fight the infection. Jesse, Noel, Danielle and I, and our friend Gordon, surrounded her singing Amazing Grace. She left us during one of the five stanzas.

I told her more than once that meeting her and being her life partner was the best thing that ever happened to me. She is the most caring person I've ever known. We traveled the world together, co-parented two great children, entetained many friends, created a home together in Inverness (and less permanent homes in Stanford, Berkeley, Fairfax, The Plains, VA, Washington DC, London, College Park, Bologna, Istanbul, Adelaide, Bali, India and the SS Universe Explorer), made love a lot -- not much different from other well-matched people, but special for us.

She was one of a kind and irreplaceable. I regret not growing old together and not having grandchildren.  She'd have been an amazing grandmother.

Love,  Armin

and so it goes ...

yesterday it was sunny. today it is raining. and so it goes.

has been a flurry of a week, since i lost a week last week (sick). and 'tis the flurry of the season.

i'm off to portland for christmas with friends, then my brother and family are coming for a visit the following week. 

will be back here in the new year, ready to rock and roll!

may you have healthy, joy- and love-filled holidays and a happy new year! 

solstice wishes coming true ... 

peace,

xh

grounded. and lifted.

as you know, daisey and i were off to utah for thanksgiving. that is, until we weren't. 

all packed up and bundled up (daisey with her new pink sweater and down coat to brave the utah piddle breaks), we settled into one of those fancy black cars to the airport (since daisey isn't allowed on the airporter shuttle bus), well early to accommodate the tuesday-before-thanksgiving holiday crush. gliding up the swooping offramp to SFO, i reached in my wallet to pay the guy, and realized, "i don't have my driver's license!" 

now we all know we need a government-issued photo ID to fly. (i had lost my wallet, and had applied for a new license, but only had the temporary photo-less paper from the DMV). so i made a quick decision ... instead of going into the airport and spending my precious time finding out if they'd let me through security, i asked the driver if he would take us back to my house to get my passport and back again to the airport ... maybe i could still make my flight. he turned the car around and we raced home. i must've told him at least three times, "i know exactly where my passport is." his driving pleased me. he drove as i would have driven. he executed smart lane changes to make the best time possible, and we would still -- maybe -- make the flight.

this kind of thing used to send my adrenaline soaring. and i loved it. adrenaline was my fuel. happened often as a photojournalist. insanely desperately racing to get to an assignment, to a news scene, to a last minute flight ... this time, i was relatively calm, with floods of adrenaline rising through my body, followed by ebbs of the attitude: i'll make it if i make it. 

pulled up and dashed into the house to my trusty filing cabinet to the file marked: BIRTH CERTIFICATE /PASSPORT ... but no current passport (only expired ones). whaaaaat? where IS it? i looked high and low, upstairs downstairs, in all the other files, in my other filing cabinets, the clock ticking. i looked and looked, and 20 minutes into the search, i knew. i wasn't going to make this flight. i was grounded.

for a moment, that other flood rose upward in my system, the surge that brings on tears. i could feel it coming, to right up behind my eyes. i wasn't going to get to go to utah to be with my brother and my sister-in-law and my nephews for thanksgiving. my parents aren't here anymore. i was going to be ALONE for the most important holiday of the year. ALL ALONE. 

and then, as suddenly as the surge started, it diminished, ebbed. no flood here. no tears. ok. i'm not going to utah. i'm staying right here. 

told the driver what happened, paid him for all his good driving and kindness, dragged my bags back into the house, made calls cancelling catsitters, and called my brother. grounded.

the reality set in that i was home -- not in utah -- for this four-day holiday. nothing but time and space. got invited to several thanksgiving dinners. made plans to see friends. all was well.

i had heard for so long from all the great spiritual teachers of our time -- eckhart tolle, byron katie, and my teacher adyashanti -- (and jesus and buddha probably said it, too) that whenever you argue with reality, when you want something other that what is actually happening ... you create your own suffering. if i wanted to be in utah but wasn't in utah, then i would suffer, i would be sad and mad and frustrated. this time, i didn't even have to try to tame my mind. none of those thoughts came, thoughts of being a victim of the circumstances, nor did the self-critical thoughts that usually come, like "how could you be so stupid to let this happen?" i was miraculously ok with being grounded. weird. 

this whole thing is very weird, i thought. i'm usually so organized. i'm not at all flakey. there must be a reason why this is happening ... so i headed up to my meditation room and sat, asking "why am i not going to utah for thanksgiving? what is this all about?" and clearly *got* that it was about aloneness. 

this aloneness thing has been a real bugaboo for me. makes me incredibly sad and makes me anxious. and at times, i'll do anything to not feel that aloneness. eat too much. go to the movies in a tizzy. work till all hours of the night. just to not feel alone and lonely. my therapist says that everyone feels alone, even people in happy, stable relationships for 50 years. so it's not just about being single and living alone. huh?

wednesday i got up and went to meditate straight away. this is the best way for me to start the day, to meditate before my mind gets distracted by everything else. but i admit it happens rarely. i often get distracted the moment i open my eyes.

so. i meditated. and asked the Universe (or God, Spirit, Truth, Life, Higher Power, Christ, Buddha, Allah, Whatever-you-want-to-call-it) two things. the first thing i can't remember. the second thing i asked was: "please show me what it is i need to learn or see about aloneness." i have learned to just put the question out there, and wait for a response. so finished up. then yoga. then hopped in the car and pulled out heading to a nearby trailhead for a run. but i wasn't paying attention and hit the car parked across the street from my driveway. 

now one might think i'd really lose it here. i thought i'd lose it. this is the kind of thing that usually really spins me out, and makes that critical voice inside my head into a monster. the flood of adrenaline/crying/criticism started to rise, then just stopped, ebbed back to calm. go inside, write a note, leave it on the dashboard, and drive to the trailhead. which is exactly what i did. no drama. i hit a car. all is well. all will be repaired. that's what insurance is for. calm. 

whaaaaaat? no drama? NO CREATING MY OWN SUFFERING? ... no. i didn't even have to try. didn't have to wrangle my monkey mind. peace just came. 

the day started out perfectly with meditation/yoga/run and just sailed on all day. the car owner came to the door later, we exchanged information, she was completely chill. no drama. the whole thing was kind of surreal. 

i was a little concerned about the wednesday evening before the thanksgiving holiday. it's like a friday night on steroids. A VERY IMPORTANT EVE. and i'm often a mess on friday nights. everyone racing home to their loved ones to go have a super duper duper fun weekend. and i'm often alone. so i was trying to be careful about how i was going to spend my thanksgiving eve. 

i had planned on taking take daisey to sausalito in the late afternoon. but i waffled, didn't seem like the right place to go. couldn't make up my mind. what about muir beach? what about tiburon? what about the dog park? i actually sat down on my bathroom floor and shut my eyes, trying to get where it was we were to go, where was the right place to go? (i've been trying to live more by intuition lately, and it works when i can hear it). finally i got we were going to tiburon, and off we went. 

the waterfront in tiburon is daisey's favorite. she can romp off-leash on the lush grass with all the other little doggies. and it's beautiful for me, too, looking out over the bay towards angel island, the golden gate bridge and san francisco beyond. and it's oh so familiar, having grown up in belvedere-tiburon. 

but i had some trepidation. worried i'd be upset seeing all the families together.

it was a magnificent afternoon, clear and crisp. daisey romped. shortly along the path, i saw up ahead a big family coming toward me. multiple generations, all strolling together in a pack. a small flood rose in me, then ebbed. i saw an older gentleman in a wheelchair being pushed by his strapping grandson. more women, men and children, chitterchattering away. but when i looked in the eyes of that older gentleman, who didn't look particularly lonely, something in his eyes told me he felt alone. 

a flash of insight struck me: we are all alone. each and every one of us. no matter what our outer circumstances. no matter if we have people all around us or not. we are born alone and we die alone. and that being alone is painful and that we all carry that pain. it is part of the human condition, and thus connects us all, making us all the same. all-one. alone. and yet truly connected. 

this realization gave me deep compassion and LOVE for that gentleman. and for myself, and for that whole chitterchattering family. and for everyone who came along my path that afternoon. and for my family in utah. and for everyone i know all over the world. and for everyone, for all people, everywhere. PURE LOVE.

i walked, daisey trotted and sniffed, we chatted with folks, got a latté. all was well. 

i spent my weekend among friends ... eating, celebrating, hiking, drinking, sharing. made plans to see my brother and family here after christmas. and just relaxed.

grounded. and lifted. beyond my wildest dreams. so so thankful.

i was also reminded that i am not alone at all. if the Universe answers me that quickly and clearly, then i am never alone, because the Universe is so magically and mysteriously there, always.

PS - i still can't remember the first question i asked the Universe, but i know the answer was my hitting that car. i guess i have to ask the question again. i just hope i'm paying more attention next time! 

photoflow: handmade holiday table placecards

as per the last day's instructions in my picture fall class, i made these photo placecards for thanksgiving. 15 of 'em. and then promptly proceeded NOT to go to that thanksgiving (come back thursday to find out why ... ). so i fedexed all 15 of 'em to their rightful table. and made a few more for the thanksgiving table where i ended up. 

it's so much fun to share photography in our actual, real-time, analog lives (i can't believe i just wrote that. as in, analog life vs digital life? we live in very strange times ... ). so often in this digital age, our photos remain only on our computer screens, or buried in digital folders and drives, deep inside our machines. why not bring out those photos and share them? 

for the end of my picture summer class, i made a photo garland which is still hanging from my living room rafters. 

here are some great ideas for bringing your photos out into the light of day. and this is a great book for more of the same. and here is a photo garland you can drape on your tree! 

how do you share your photos in your life?

I think a photography class should be a requirement in all educational programs because it makes you see the world rather than just look at it. 

~Author Unknown

 


what are you thankful for?

i am thankful that i have a loving family with whom to celebrate thanksgiving. daisey and i are heading to utah for the holiday week. so i'm taking a little break from this blogspace. but will be back the following week. 

and i am thankful for YOU, dear reader, for reading, looking, commenting ... THANK YOU.

celebrate well. peace.

xh

five things: atkins (including, they might just come to your house!)

WANT TO MEET A FUN ENGLISH FAMILY LIVING IN THE FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE?

1. my friends the atkins family are coming to the usa next summer (!!!), and touring with their film. you know, the one they made with their uber-talented family and friends last summer in france and spain ... you know, the one i worked on, too. 

2. they are calling this the "throw me a rope" US road trip, a kind of extension of their "welcome to the world" tour in europe, only this time they have a film to show!

3. they'll be entering film festivals and doing Q and As in as many cities as possible.

4. they want to show their film to YOU! they'd like to do in-home screenings or "film parties" in people's homes all over the country. and they are looking for drama/music groups, summer schools and colleges, fundraising groups, any group or organization which might want to screen 'if you ever get to heaven' for any reason. who knows, they might do some concerts, too!

5. so, if you would like to meet this warm, friendly, open, generous, interesting, and fun family ... WHY DON'T YOU CONSIDER HOSTING A SCREENING? whether you are a family or single, all you need is a tv screen and some friends. just contact manny atkins and set a date sometime next july or august and invite your friends over for a "film party"! watch the film with the atkins family, ask questions of the parents (director & producer & actor) and the children (actors & crew), have a gathering, have fun, meet new people, open your world, open your home ... to this delightful english family living in france. 

contact manny atkins at amanda@43pictures.com.

and follow them on facebook and twitter.

ps - i met this family online, after reading and commenting on their blog. we became online friends, and i ended up working on their film! and we'll be friends forever. you just never know where these connections might lead. and at the very least, you can have new friends in another part of the world! and ... i'll most definitely be hosting a screening party at my house next summer!

 

womenfolk and their jewels

my aunt carol gave me this watch. it was my birthmother's. [i wish i knew of a better way of describing her. maybe just mother? i have two of them. or maybe my mother and my mom ... any lovely suggestions?]

when i went to visit my aunt carol -- the one i had met on the phone just a month before -- she had a special box on the table. this box was filled with little boxes. in each little box was a memento of my birthmother's that carol wanted me to have. i could barely bring myself to open the box. each time i reached over to it, tears came. so i waited while we talked.

finally it was time. almost time for me to leave, and time to look in the box. i sniffled and opened each little box, astounded at carol's generosity.

carol gave this watch to my mother nancy. and when nancy passed, carol got it back. and then carol gave it to me. 

i finally replaced the battery yesterday. i love it! it is light and delicate and reminds me of both carol and nancy. i will treasure it forever.

oddly, i am currently going through my mom's jewelry, seven and a half years after she passed. it is time. time to clean my closets. and time to move it all on to new owners and admirers. new mothers and aunts and daughters and nieces. so i'm keeping a few special pieces, and boxing up the rest and shipping it off. 

and oddly again, i'm sending it to a friend with a jewelry store whose mom (adopted mom, like my mom) is in hospice with not much longer to live.

strange how Life presents these little riddles and coincidences. when i see Life bringing sets of circumstances strung together such as this, i know there is something important here for me to see. 

maybe it is how somehow, we womenfolk -- mothers and aunts and nieces and daughters and sisters -- are really all connected. ALL womenfolk everywhere, for all time ... connected. in such a precious way. gifting each other our precious jewels. and hearts. 

piddle-free zone

 

daisey. she is my love. her full name is princess daisey mae. i did not name her, she came to me at age 2. and i really don't know what i would have done without here these last eight years. she has been with me during the toughest times in life ... consistent, loving me with those adoring eyes. she is my family. 

and the rest of my family -- my brother and his clan -- now live in utah. so that's where we're going for thanksgiving. thanksgiving has always been the most important holiday for our family, and we celebrate it well. always super fun, low stress. we play games, hang out, walk, and of course, eat! 

but since my brother is in an almost brand new house, he and his wife really want to keep it nice. as in, no peeing on the carpets! i don't think they're worried that i'll do that ... no, but my little adorable furry friend does have a piddly accident now and again. or maybe it's not really an accident, maybe it's because she's miffed about being left too long, or not had enough walks this week, or ... not sure. i'm not a doggie psychologist! 

anyway, daisey was almost NOT invited for thanksgiving. but how could i celebrate well without MY family? so after some negotiating, she is coming with me. but we're just a month away now. and i want to make sure my sister-in-law's carpets stay nice and dry!

daisey's new, portable, soft-sided crate just arrived in the mail, and i'm feeding her treats in it. trying to get her to like her new digs. (but my burly cat roux seems to prefer the cozy space. he kind of rules the roost around here.)

anyway ... i am in need of some serious anti-piddling advice! anyone a dog-whisperer out there? it's all in the name of good family relations! 

photoflow: the faceless portrait

 

hiking an unrenovated, desolate portion of the great wall of china, i made this portrait of my german boyfriend thorsten. i LOVE this photo. have it framed in my kitchen (even though we stopped dating years ago). 

i find this image speaks volumes about thorsten:

1. strong: just look at that frame, that physique, tall and sturdy, those lean tree trunk legs.

2. mountain man: he uses that body to get out in nature and climb high (he also runs long distance and cycles up big hills).

3. intrepid traveller: he loves visiting new places, experiencing new cultures and foods (and has lived in the states over 10 years).

4. off the beaten path: this guy marches to his own drum (has a pierced ear and plays electric guitar).

5. relaxed: his hand reveals his relaxed nature (even though he's very hardworking and ambitious).

that's a lot of information for one photo. and you can't even see his face!

and that is exactly the point: you do not need to show someone's face to show many things about her/him. showing the back may reveal even more than the face. the face can distract us from seeing all the rest there is to see of someone. 

but not everyone agrees on this point. 

i was going to accompany thorsten home to germany for christmas, and considered giving this photo of thorsten to his mother. i hemmed and hawed. not sure she would like a photo of her son without seeing his face. i consulted my dad -- of the parental generation -- who very much appreciated photography. he said, go for it, it's a great photograph. 

so i gave it to thorsten's mom for christmas. she did not get it. no oooos and ahhhhhs. no "great photo," nicht. just a polite thank you. (she didn't get me, either, but that's another story.) 

some people expect to see faces in portraits. but i am reminded to photograph the "rear view" for a change ... to see what else there is to see of someone. 

Often while traveling with a camera we arrive just as the sun slips over the horizon of a moment, too late to expose film, only time enough to expose our hearts. 

~ Minor White