kissing in the rain ...

can you feel it? it's happening. it's coming. the sun. the warmth. the growth. the life. rebirth. SPRING! 

EVERYONE is coming out of their caves, their winterized spaces, their lairs. coming out into the SUN!

can you feel it? 

i have been busier these last two weeks with PEOPLE than over the whole of winter, it feels. and i have lots of photographs of these pale and happy faces. 

and yet, here i am, photographing plants, still. 

daisey and i walked out this afternoon, after a day of gray drizzle. woodsy fireplace smoke like french countryside.

raindrops lay in the late low rays of march, whispered

kiss me!

and so i did.

and this is what those kisses looked like. tasted like. wet. juicy. exciting. SPRING!

monday memories / the sporting life: one of the boys, one of the happy people

i'm sharing some of my sporting life with you in this monday memories series. last week's story was about the politics of soccer ... 

 

 

my junior year of college, i had several guy friends who came to oregon from prep schools back east. with them they brought lacrosse to the left coast, a sport we hadn't yet seen out west. they didn't think they had enough players to start a team, so they recruited me and my soccer friend sheila. i guess they figured, she's tough on the soccer field, so she can play lacrosse with the guys. and they were desperate ... 

the whole season for me was a bit of a fiasco! 

we practiced much of the year in the rain and mud, and i learned how to wield a lacrosse stick, kind of. then the spring lacrosse season rolled around, and it turned out there were so many guys who wanted to play lacrosse, probably because lacrosse players were smart, cool, and extremely social. it ended up being a huge team.

at that point, i should have bowed out gracefully like sheila did ... but i guess my childhood desire to be equal in the [man's] world still needed to prove itself, so i wasn't about to quit the team. some of the guys, the really serious players, didn't want me on the team. my buddies were mixed, they wanted to have a strong team, but they also stayed loyal to me. 

there weren't many teams then, but we found a few to play against in oregon and washington. we had a couple of away games, and the lacrosse teams are so social that the opposing teams put us up for the night before or after the game in their homes. those lacrosse boys know how to have a good time! 

when i'd show up on the field in my uniform, it would create a stir in the opposing team. they didn't quite know how to handle me. you see, men's lacrosse is a VERY ROUGH game. completely different from soccer. more like hockey. that's why they wear helmets! 

or maybe it was the uniform my teammates got for me. we had to borrow jerseys from our football team, and i'm not sure who decided that 69 was my number. young men being young men, they thought it was hilarious. i was a bit naive, and was just glad to have a jersey.

so the opposing team weren't sure if they should hit me as hard as the guys, or if they should go easy on me. i think most of them were not as rough with me, thank god! not that i played much. i had field sense, but not great ball handling skills. plus i was scared shitless!

in our last game of the season, the college allowed us to play on our main football field. there was a huge crowd watching all those foxy lacrosse players. it must have been a pretty close game, since they didn't put me in ... until the very last few minutes of the game ... when the crowd started chanting "hil - la - ry! hil - la - ry! hil - la - ry!" so our captain put me in.

i think i touched the ball once in those last minutes and didn't do anything spectacular, but at least didn't flub up.

the crowd roared!

we won!

my favorite moment of that season was the post-game party at "happy valley," the home of the greatest guys on our team. i was one of the boys, but i was also one of the gang, one of the happy people gathered in that backyard.

i remember feeling so much love for those guys, for all of our friends, for those great people. so loved and accepted. so much a part of the group. right in the middle of it. not on the outskirts.

so much love at that gathering. and it wasn't just the beer talking, i swear. maybe it was the mix of sunshine and winning and finishing the season and beer and team spirit and love all mixed in together.

you could ask any of those guys and they'd tell you the same thing. it was magical. to be a part of a group, doing what you love, running around on a field, being with those you love. it doesn't get any better than that.

~~~~~

lessons learned: join groups with people you love. there's so much power in groups of like-minded folks.

+++++

the following year, sheila and i started a women's lacrosse team. much more gentle!

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.

g - l - o - r - y ... us

my "sister" sue from boulder is here visiting her mom. we met down at crissy field this morning for a glorious walk along the water. spectacular.

sue's aussie husband has only been to san francisco a couple of times and only on fair days when there has been no fog. so she wanted me to take a picture of the fog to send to ross back in colorado. see ross?

this morning it was just a little wisp, a little fog finger drifting out the gate under the bridge, as it does most days here. 

the sun so warm and bright, sue couldn't even keep her eyes open to be photographed (an occupational hazard if you sign up to be my friend).

i'm so sorry to all you east coasters buried under tons and tons of snow and cold (she said snidely).

hot shot mark twain once gloated, "the coldest winter i ever spent was a summer in san francisco."

so today i shout out to you mr. twain, loud and clear so you can hear me in neverneverland:

the nicest winter i ever spent was today and yesterday here in norcal. nah! 

and sue even took care of business for a moment on our walk in the sun, by the bay, with all the happy people. lucky us.

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

in with the new, the messy

optimistically hoping for everything to be in order by 1/1/11 ... 'tis sadly not the case :-(

anyone who knows me knows, i don't like messes. and right now, my office is a mess, my filing cabinets are a mess, my computer files are a mess, my lightroom catalog is a mess, my garage is a mess ... 

funny, before the holidays all this was pretty much in the same state of affairs. but i want NEW! CLEAN! BRIGHT! SHINY! IT'S A NEW YEAR, AFTER ALL! 

i have forgiven myself for totally dropping the ball in december with picture the holidays and reverb10, two very worthy projects. i was just too busy scurrying around and celebrating! but the messes, grrr ... 

lord knows, i know that whenever i disagree with what IS, i create my own suffering. and the messes IS messy. and the oh-so-many-things i want to do IS messy, too. i'm a spring baby, born on march 21. aries. look out! headstrong. stubborn. impatient. and i can smell spring already!

all the work i've done to be in the om zone has flown right out the window with the new year. huh? how did that happen? 

maybe it's cause i gave up dairy on new year's day. found out the night before christmas i'm casein intolerant, sadly. as in, no cow/sheep/goat dairy. none. no yogurt even!

maybe i just need to pull out one or more tools i've learned to ground in the present and accept what IS: breathe. lie down with a heavy blanket covering my body. hold a pillow. look around the room and name things in present time. yoga. bath. rub my legs in downward direction. feel my feet on the floor. i know all the tricks. yeah, i probably should have done that before sitting down to write this. forgive me? (life sure is messy sometimes!).

anyway, i wanted to let you know i'm switching things up a bit here at eyechai. i need to Focus on the 4 F's +1 right now: Fitness, Foto biz, Friends, Family and house remodel. which for me means that i need to blog later in the day instead of first thing. or shorter posts? more photos? (i can't write too late in the evening or it'll be punchy like tonight!) i'm not sure yet if i'll still be able to post 5x week, but i'll let you know as soon as i've figured out the new blogging regime. please don't go away, though, i love creating this eyechai blog and i love YOU!

meantime, is your new year clean or messy, accepting or not? what IS up with you? (great, now i'm ungrounded AND punchy. what next?) 

go to bed, hillary.

love,

me

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

photoflow: first place ... in listening

in november i entered a local photography contest. it was one of those meant-to-be things ... i only found out about it at the last minute because i went to our town hall requesting a building permit and saw the flyer there. 

at the contest kick-off that very evening, everyone had to pick a category out of a hat. i plucked "age" and was hardly thrilled with my category. something about the big 5 - 0 fast approaching ...  

the very first image that popped into mind was my gentleman neighbor's bald head with short white hairs circling his crown. he must be somewhere between 65 and 75 but won't fess up to his age. i ask, cajole, divulge my age over and over again ... but he's not telling! i find this hysterical. a man. an older man. who won't tell his age! 

i asked my neighbor if he was willing to let me photograph the top of his head. he was game. but i kept putting off the actual shoot. 

so many gremlins in my head, shouting: that's a dumb idea! lame! trite!

i wondered if i could shoot it with my favorite lens these days (my 50mm compact macro), really blow out the background and focus on the little white hairs ... but the gremlins returned in full force: lame! 

ok, i'll think of something else. brainstormed and came up with lists of other options, but none really grabbed me. the week got busy. the deadline fast approaching. then the weather turned and the gray, sunless days thwarted my idea of sunlight backlighting his little white hairs. gremlins: awww, forget about it! just blow it off! it's a stupid idea, anyway! don't waste your time!

on the last evening before the deadline, the sun came out. i braved over to my neighbor's. he was available and willing. we shot. we laughed. he gave me a tour of his home and backyard. got to know him a little better. had fun. 

later that evening i kept procrastinating working on the image. i waited until after 11pm facing a midnight deadline. sat down to process the image. gremlins: it's no good! doesn't work! lame! and on and on.

somehow, i mustered the courage to enter my photo just before midnight. 

and it turns out i won!: first place in the age category. featured in the local newspaper. photo hanging at the community center for a month. and $100 worth of gift certificates. 

i'm sharing this not to toot my own horn. don't get me wrong. winning is always fun. but i've been able to watch myself during this whole experience, and i've been able to see that the gremlins in my head are not my true Self. yet i often listen to them because they are LOUD.

i know that the gremlins are nothing but fear. fear raising its voice. shouting. fear trying to keep my little ego safe.

but that fear is suffocating. that fear is limiting. and i do not want to be acting from that place. i want to act from the place that watches the gremlins. the place that is inspired and creative. the place that is everlasting and unchanging. my true Self. 

i know that fear and emotions come and go, like the weather. i know that incessant, uncreative and unthinking "thoughts" are just that: thoughts. and i don't have to listen to them. 

hey gremlins: YOU'RE THE STUPID ONES!

my first place win is a testament to listening to that first image that popped into my mind's eye. my instinct. my inner self knowing exactly what is to be done. what is right for me. trusting my Self. that still small voice that i am nurturing so it can grow more confident and loud, stronger than the gremlins in my head. 

i proudly accept this first place win in honor of listening to my true Self. 

There are no rules for good photographs, there are only good photographs. 

~Ansel Adams

monday memories / RTW trip: the end of the end

sadly there are no more photos from our RTW trip, even though we visited three more countries (there were supposed to be five). here's the story of the early end of our trip:

after the last post about israel ... 

we headed north to greece where we had both previously travelled. i had spent my sophomore college year in greece. curt had travelled with a friend to visit someone in my group. amazingly we had both been at the same new year’s eve party in athens 12 years prior but had not met! 

this time, we wanted to stay at the same hotel for old time's sake ... but there was no room. was this a sign of things to come? 

so we island hopped to skyros to stay with the cutest aussie couple we had met just for an evening in egypt ... that’s travellers for you. so open! stayed with them for a week of eating (olives, feta, dolmades, calamari), gabbing and laughing (into the wee hours), motorbike touring (including a flat tire, which we fixed with more ouzo) and beach time. heaven. 

pulled ourselves away from this little piece of paradise and headed to italy to send most of our stuff home, buy bicycles and panniers and start our cycling portion – the last portion – of our trip: cycling and camping from italy to portugal. 

i had been lobbying curt for a bike trip through europe since the beginning of our RTW trip. thinking europe is so expensive compared to southeast asia, let's just ride bikes and camp, keeping our costs down. it'll be fun! we'll wine taste in france. you'll see!

turned out this was the HOTTEST summer on record in southern europe. we started in june in italy. we hadn't yet headed southward (HOTward) to spain or portugal in even HOTTER july. to beat the heat, we rose each day before dawn to eat a hearty breakfast and break camp. had some dazzlingly stunningly beautiful dawn rides down country lanes in italy. but as the mornings progressed into noontime (HOTtime), we melted each and every day. we pedaled between 54 and 108 kilometers daily, then would roll into a campsite and soak in the swimming pool all afternoon. ate pasta every night for dinner and crashed to sleep, waking again pre-dawn for another day of the same. it was europe, it was beautiful, but it was just too darn HOT. 

crossing into france was exciting, except that we somehow lost each other in the hilliest place of all: monaco. we each ended up riding up and down that huge hill in monaco a few times until we found each other, relieved to find each other and furious that we'd become separated and had to ride up and down that @#!&* hill so many times. our bikes were pretty heavy, and even heavier with full panniers.

in nice, we wanted to go to the matisse museum. having left our rear panniers in the tent in the campground, we locked our bikes in front of the museum. i left the handlebar bag on my bike. curt thought i should carry it into the museum, but i didn't want to lug it. no one will steal anything, i argued to curt. (i can be pretty darn persuasive. it'll be fine, you'll see!) both of us forgetting he had put his travellers checks in the my bike bag that morning, which also contained all my exposed film from italy, greece and israel. THIS WAS ABOUT THE DUMBEST MOVE I MADE ON THE ENTIRE TRIP! 

went to the window just 15 meters from our bikes to buy our museum entrance tickets. when we turned around to look at the bikes before entering the museum, my bike bag had already been stolen. 

after a few low days sorting out travellers checks, we steered our bikes into the countryside of france, pointed toward portugal. looking forward to shifting gears back into happiness, we wanted to make our french cycling dreams come true, lavender and sunflowers and wine tasting, all that! still, it was HOT. 

another dawn start and we were in a wine region early in the morning. the first winery sign we saw, curt wanted to stop for a taste. the sign pointed toward a little dirt lane with a bend so we couldn't see how far it was to the winery. the lane was a downhill (which means i have to ride back uphill with heavy bike and panniers). it was 9am. we started down the lane and then i said STOP! 

i wasn't about to go knocking on a winery door at 9am. and it might not have even been a proper tasting room, could have been just some winemaker's home. no way. and especially since i didn't know how far off the main road it was. downhill. i wasn't having any of it! 

infuriated, curt rode back uphill toward the main road. when i got to the main road, he was nowhere in sight. i waited. we had ONE RULE for cycling together: wait at all intersections for the other. i waited and waited. finally i started riding in the direction of our destination. didn't see curt for an hour. stopped at the first sign of civilization, a cafe along the road. excusez-moi, have you seen a cyclist? they had not seen him. i was very worried. where was curt? had he fallen into a ditch? someone offered to drive me back to the country lane with the winery sign. he wasn't there. i looked in the ditches and bushes along the way. back at the cafe, i waited some more. they suggested we call the gendarmes (police). so the gendarmes arrived, i told them my story, and we went out looking for curt. 

we found him riding further along on the main road. loaded him and his bike in the cop car and brought him back to the cafe. i was crying. he was seething. while the gendarmes read curt the riot act in french. 

this bike trip was not turning out to be the fairy tale cycling escapade i had imagined. 

we were arguing. a lot. it was HOT. maybe riding all the way to portugal was not the best idea under the circumstances. we made it all the way to aix en provence. still HOT. still bickering. we looked at one another and agreed. it was time. time to go home. as soon as we even mentioned the idea out loud, a wave of relief came over both of us.

10 months. 13 countries. a lifetime of memories. 

~~~~~

lessons learned: travel. go! go NOW! you never know when or if you will have the opportunity again. oh, and never ever EVER leave important things in a bike bag. 

+++++

before the trip, i had recently graduated grad school in journalism and was freelancing as a photojournalist at the oregonian. curt and i had seen "jean de florette," a movie about a parisian couple who moved to a village to live a simpler life. we thought it would be fun to rent a house in the french countryside for awhile. then we thought, why not travel? which mushroomed into why not travel around the world? i was 30 years old. i would have a full-time job someday and wouldn't be able to just up and leave for 10 months. curt had just been accepted to art school after working at the same job for many years, and was ready for a change. so we travelled!

a month after our return to portland, i was offered my first full-time job as a photojournalist at the long beach press-telegram. and moved to socal. curt and i went our separate ways. 

we are still very close and he has helped me remember our travels, so i could share them here. and i'm going to portland for christmas to see curt and other friends from college. this is the last installment of monday memories until the new year, when i will continue to remember and share. 

2011 monday memories will include stories of athletics, school, family, friends, spirituality, and of course, lots more travel! 

thank you for coming along on these journeys, which i hope inspire you to remember your lives, your special moments, and your lessons learned while living.

peace.

xh

reverb(erating), week one

i just found out about reverb and joined in. it's an online *reverberation* reflecting on this past year and manifesting in the coming year. dreamt up by this creative soul, who feeds us writing prompts each day of december by her creative pals who author thoughtful questions. here goes for this first week: 

1. one word: for 2010, my word has been REKINDLE, as in long lost loves. as in ... photography. yeah. for 2011, my word is OPEN. open to life. to people. to opportunities. to a good man. OH yeah!

2. writing: can i eliminate the thing that does not contribute to my writing? i actually can't think of one thing that does not contribute to my writing. everything contributes to my writing. absolutely everything: the good, the bad and the ugly. do i have any time wasters? is that the question? hmmm. well. often i stay up late writing, when i'd rather get up early and write *fresh*. my daily rhythm promotes health on all levels in 2011. 

3. moment: most alive moment in 2010 ... meeting carol, for sure. 

4. wonder: i cultivate wonder by bringing my camera on every dogwalk with daisey, every day. oh the things i see. nature's miracles everywhere.

5. let go: what/whom did i let go of this year? i let go of my mom's things which have been living in my closets and garage for over seven years. i sold her furs on ebay just last month, sent her jewelry to a friend to sell, and am working on the rest. and it doesn't make me sad (or an incapacitated puddle of tears) like it used to. 

6. make: the last thing i made? photo placecards. i make things all the time with my photos. i especially like to make photo thank yous.

7. community: squam really really really was THE place i needed to go in 2010, and the people there were THE COMMUNITY i needed to find. it opened up my whole view of my place in the world!

i am an artist.

i'd never been able to say that before. someone i know very well in france asked me who i was, what i wanted to be, years ago. i said: je suis une artiste (joining the 'suis' with the 'une' with an exciting zzzzzz. as in "je swee zoon artiste"). he laughed in my face. scoffed. you're not an artist. well guess what, monsieur? i. am. an. artist. photographer. writer. expressing my Self. because i must. 

and it was at squam, with all those other artists, those who already know they are artists and those, like me, who are timid about saying it. those women inspired me to my core, lifted me up into myself. so i can be true. 

in 2011, the community i want to build is with other artists and creative souls (which every single person on this planet is, in fact). in my daily life. here. in mill valley. 

i have lots of friends all over the bay area, all over the country, and all over the world. but very few here in mill valley. and the ones i do have are busy with small children. which makes my life quite quiet most days. so i'd like to connect more right in my own backyard.

speaking of backyards ... i visited my fab friend cyn in italy so many years ago while she was living in a little village on lake como. one of the most picturesque places on earth. every evening her neighbors sat outside watching the sunset, sharing wine and cheese and savoring the day together before dinner. 

here in mill valley, i have a neighbor about 5 doors down who sips wine from a beautiful wineglass while watering his roses in the summer evenings. so my plan is to share some wine with doug, and the other neighbors when the weather gets better. start an evening ritual. some evenings in my yard, some in doug's front yard. everyone welcome. saluté!

photoflow: handmade thank yous

i like to think i'm quite organized (in spite of my thanksgiving story). but my friend laura (not smize laura, another equally beautiful laura) is super duper organized. she works, moms, loves, runs, and makes it all look easy. up at her house one evening for dinner, i complimented her on her little dish in which she places her salt and pepper shakers. what a great idea! no pesky grains of salt and pepper left on the kitchen counter like at my house. "here," she said, reaching into a cupboard, pulling out an identical little italian plate and placing it in my hands. "i have several, and never use them." wow, gosh, gee, thanks laura!
 
as a thank you, i photographed my shakers on my little italian plate on my kitchen counter. and made it into a thank you card.
and lo and behold ... i found the absolute bestest way to thank someone for something! make a special photo, make it into a card, write "thank you" on it and send. YES!
 
i have since made many thank you cards with my own photos on the front. here's my latest thank you card from thanksgiving ... (which was kind of a snafu but wasn't really.)
people absolutely love a handmade thank you. from a specially made photograph. of the thing they gave you. or of a moment you shared together. or of a specific thing you discussed while together. it's the thought that counts. and the handmade gesture. and effort it took to actually sit down and make something. with these hands. and these eyes.
You don't take a photograph.  You ask, quietly, to borrow it. 
~Author Unknown

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. 

photoflow: smize of the soul

so in last week's photoflow, i wrote about portraiture and included my friends who are really open to having their pictures taken. 

on that subject, my beautiful friend (since college) laura falls into the not-so-much category. she's always been a reluctant model and photo subject. 

but i want to share a photo shoot with laura that may have changed all that. we worked it! and came away with some great pictures. but it took some time. 

here's when i first approached laura with my camera. granted she was naked in the hot tub. "oh my god, you are not going to take my picture!":

i talked her into letting me photograph her. "we'll get a great picture, you'll see." but she was not convinced:

and here she is with what most people do in front of a camera, the cheesey smile:

but i wasn't stopping there. 

i was going for the tyra banks “smize” (smile with the eyes) and beyond. tyra coined the phrase on her show “america’s next top model.” i love that show. not for the in-house dramas between the girls. but for the stunning photography by the world's top fashion photographers. and for tyra’s mastery of finding and drawing out each girl’s quirks. tyra helps each girl embrace and reveal her own uniqueness. very empowering.

so i coached laura. and here she is becoming conscious of her face and her eyes and trying to control them. not so great:

i asked laura to open up her eyes more. not working:

then i told her not only to smile with her eyes, but to also open her heart. "remove the armor covering your soul." we were getting somewhere:

then we lost it again. self-consiousness returned. after the openness, she felt too vulnerable, and laughed:

trying to return to openness, but still armored:

come on laura. stay open. not just in the eyes. in the heart. in the soul. let your soul shine through. and boom:

and boom. right there, all of her. completely open:

and boom:

she did it. she not only smiled with her eyes. she smiled with her soul. a gentle smile. an open smile. 

it takes a lot of trust to be able to be this open. to lay down the shield protecting our innermost vulnerable place. when a model or photo subject opens in this way, it makes for great photographs because it touches the viewer in that same place inside of her. 

and it makes for great connection between people, in our day-to-day lives being with people, no camera in sight. open hearts meeting open hearts. soul to soul connection. i'm a human being, vulnerable just like you. try it with your loved ones. try it with the checkout person at the grocery store. open. open. open. saying inwardly "i see you. and i'm letting you see me." 

When you photograph people in colour you photograph their clothes.  But when you photograph people in B&W, you photograph their souls! 

~Ted Grant

~~~~~

when i spoke to laura yesterday about this blog post, reminding her of the photo shoot in the hot tub, she said ... "i trust you. just remember my dad will be seeing it!" 

and here's laura 30 years ago in college, on a backpacking trip in oregon, beautiful then and now: