Lessons Found In The Wind


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I’m amazed…just amazed that I was out of the house before 9.  I’m conducting a little experiment to see how my day follows.  Considering the woman I cut off in traffic I would say, so far so good.  What?!  She was a little pavement blending VW Jetta…she never stood a chance in this hazy, rain misty morning.  I’ve since consumed hot chocolate, sat next to someone applying their nail polish and witnessed an older gentleman’s shirt that read “Want Some?”.  Can’t ask for much more.

Onto some more important ramblings.  Earlier in the week a gust of wind blew away two keepsakes of mine that were comfortably nestled in a card, in a book.  Wind.  Simple, unapologetic…wind.  The thing I once admired whilst in Upstate New York had now instigated half a tear shed.

Where’s the lesson here?  You may see something…you may have something…you may have no choice but to let it go.  All of the above fueled my frustration whilst taking this photo.

I spent minutes on top of minutes squatting on the ground trying to “get” what I was a witness to.  The leaves taunting and teasing me as they grew invisible wings…a love affair!  I wanted the leaves to connect with my lens, hearing my silent wish, my need to create the perfect photo.  Oh how this story has presented itself in my own life…in a different way but hauntingly familiar.

I gracefully let go of my keepsakes.  Maybe someone else will stumble upon the butterfly wing, marveling in it’s preserved coloring…it’s still life.  Maybe someone will find the heart shaped leaf I once held in my hand and think of someone they haven’t spoken to in a while.

The “Let Go” can be as big as the hardest thing you’ve ever  had to do…or as small as let’s say an old woman honking the shit out of her horn because you cut her off in traffic.


Keep Breathing


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As the most peasantly beautiful Ingrid Michaelson sang, “All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing…”.  I wish I could somehow type the melodic sound that accompanies said chorus.  I’ve listened to it over and over while freezing my ass off in Starbucks.  I fixate on words and then feel it necessary to play them over and over again.

Most definitely because the message, whatever it may be, is received loud and clear.  And so follow my compulsive tendencies.  Since it’s with music I find it harmless…eating an entire box of gluten free cookies is a completely different story.  Just because it’s gluten free doesn’t mean it’s safer for you to consume an entire box serving.  Key point.

Breathing. Some days flows so simply and then on others…it’s as if we have to remind ourselves what it means to breathe and to breathe fully.  If I take a deep breath in, exhale…then another, I may begin to feel what  my body is aching to release.  This and that (at times) can be as attractive as a shaved cat with painted nails and false eye lashes.

If this means we must find or create a sacred/safe place to do such breathing then so be it.  My place of choice was the Outer Banks of North Carolina.  I faked my way through some yoga moves…basically making up a stretch or pose that 1) felt good and 2) allowed me to not look like a complete ass.

Our breathing gives voice to our bodies (or the other way around) which then sends little messages to our brain.  Picture little red cartoon hearts circulating throughout your body, they read.  Let go….Tell Them You Love Them…Tell You, To Love You…Forgive In Your Own Time…To Hurt Is Ok…Understand…Live…Love…Be In The Moment.  No pressure, just give it a try.  Shifts in us help shift the world.

“…all that I know is I’m breathing…”

~Ingrid Michaelson, Keep Breathing-Be OK

Finding Light In Dark…ness.


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Beauty in the light, beauty in the dark.  Beauty found in the dark?

One night, it was raining and I took a picture during my sit at a stop light.  Cement pipe type things mixed with some train tracks and street lighting and there ya go.  Believe it or not, this is my passenger side window.  I was listening to a beautiful song and I felt as if the road was my poetry.  Everything I saw was beautiful.  Dark and beautifully lit by manufactured light.

As dark as this may seem, this was my moment of “Kairos” as the Grecians so brilliantly put it and of course Sarah Ban Breathnach in her book Simple Abundance, A Day Book of Comfort And Joy.  Kairos translates to transcendence, infinity, joy, reverence, passion, love, the Sacred.  Sarah writes:

“Kairos is intimacy with the Real.”

I love how it sounds and I find that it captures in words my most meaningful experiences…many to do with my camera.  I can capture my highest self, even if for a moment.  I am open and connected, even in darkness.  May you invite “Kairos” into your day.  You have all the time you need.

Next!  My trip of North Carolina and some damn good food…word.

There’s Something About You


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It’s a strange, strange and beautiful ting.  Picture a lot of rain, a lot of street lights- smothering the black pavement in all their illuminated glory whilst my pink flats take in the rain like a sinking dinghy.

My sweet reward was a booth seat, with my name on it, at Ella’s Folk Art Cafe in Tampa.  I was in need of some extremely well fashioned Southern food to soothe my traumatic vintage pants trying-on experience.  Picture fabulous vintage hammer pants.  Probably the most comfortable leg curtains I’ve ever tried on but, and there is a huge BUT here, I looked like a jeanie gone terribly wrong.  In the words of my friend Julie, “did you ride the short lamp?”.  Game over.

Moving on.  Our evening at Ella’s consisted of stuffed Jalapeno Poppers (Fat Japs).  A beautiful concoction of Gin and Grapefruit Juice, The Ugly Burger (pictured above) and their Mojo Chicken (didn’t make the photo cut).  Top that off with the best damn cheesecake (Bailey’s and Pumpkin Spice) that hath ever entered my mouth and you the mental picture of me waddling back to my vehicle with an hours drive home.  Brilliance I say!  I regret nothing.

From Honest To Light


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I’ve realized two things whilst editing photos this day.  One being, after a small yet satisfying dinner with a very exceptional dose of homemade nectarine salsa, one glass of wine hath provided a delicate yet much appreciated pre-to-bed buzz.  Two being, my recent urge to walk has rendered me up early enough to catch the delicate display of early morning light…like a nice vintage lace applique, the sun showers my most favorite.  Leaves, boats and water.

I think of dreamy days spent sailing or just sitting…in a boat… that seems to be resting comfortably on a muddy, sandy bank.  Still dreaming of it’s days afloat the salty, satiny seas (five times fast, check it).

This walk led me to a much needed massage.  The walk started off great, pictures…my ass in a swing, that when swung, resembled that of cats mating + a garbage truck lift.  No matter.  The walk back was painful, sore and above all annoying.  Yeah, be all in touch and photographically obsessed with me (“says Nature”)…but tend to your own garden.  Heal a part of yourself that you’ve been ignoring.

I encourage healing, with all my heart.

Open to Obvious


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Open to Obvious by Photos in a Jar
Open to Obvious a photo by Photos in a Jar on Flickr.

At the time, I failed to be completely aware of this photo representing a heart. Now, others may see just a tree and some leaves and a bit o’ sunshine…no judgement.

I may be overdoing it with the sunshine stuff, if so, please stop me. I hate repeating stories, as I so often do, and I would loath my marinating anyone’s eyes in the bright and cheery (death via sunshine).

It’s tricky (Run DMC, circa 1986?). I find myself being ultra sensitive. Everything I see is a spark connecting to something on the inside. Causing this tug and pull to share it. I’ll get to the bottom of this I’m sure.

Like a secret kept in your pocket, it’s weight equal to 100 marbles. It’s beauty difficult to put into words. It’s core, being that which exists inside of us.

Imagination station…this light, showering you from head to toe. Eat it for breakfast, pour it in your coffee. Taste the great…or calories, your choice.

Tempted to Be Tangled


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I don’t believe it to be strange that I purposely remove my Starbucks lid.  I do so because I feel every ounce of foam is worth sipping, purposely from a different spot…like a good margarita.  Could I use a spoon to mix all of this goodness together?  Why of course.  But sipping, putting the work into capturing the foam seems most attractive.

I took this photo yesterday.  Never to be disappointed with the travels I take down one of my most favorite roads.  It was brighter than all hell, simply standing in the grass produced enough sweat to cause some minor sunglass slide.

Some may call these weeds but I call them perfectly placed wild flowers.  I seemed to have stumbled upon nature’s happy hour.  Bees were buzzing, butterflies were compulsively refusing to rest their powdered asses on any flower for more than 5 seconds.  Here I stand, in the mix of it all.  Channeling my youth, tiptoeing quietly enough, hoping the butterfly would know I meant no harm.  Conclusion : I am no butterfly charma (Fried Green Tomatoes, circa 1991 minus the bees).

I wanted to immerse my camera into this wondrous flower bank.  I couldn’t get low enough.  I wanted to be tangled.  As with all sweet entanglements, this one had an expiration.  Especially after the ants let my toes know I had overstayed my welcome.  Moving on.

I carry my camera not just for beauty capturing purposes but life purposes.  She is my teacher.  She can reveal pathways and thoughts before I’m aware they need tending to.  Here we go…intuition can be as annoying as an ant bite, but so can the outcome of ignoring such a gift.  Pick your itch I always say.

If I Feel Beauty, I Will See It


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When whisking down my stairs; I pass by the always blooming bougainvellia bush blushed against our picket fence, I never pass up the chance to photograph her.

Same bush, same blooms…same fence.  The blooms may be in a different spot, more green versus more color…neither either do they matter.  I see beauty in her always.  This day, the wind picked up.  My camera from being left inside was destined to meet Mr. humidity (she fogged up a bit).  Problematic as this may seem, the outcome was much to my liking. I says to myself, I says…

Walk into a dream, exist outside your normal realm of thinking.  Look into things versus looking at them.  Occupy what you see with fascination and wonder.  What is created and what we choose to see.  All reflections of what vibrates energetically inside.  If I feel beauty, I will see it.


Dust and Our Emotions


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Yup, there’s dust on my floor.  I felt zero need to remove such floor foundation during the pre-posting party earlier today.

It’s funny what being broke on a cloudy day will do for your creative juices…creative caffeinated juices that is…it…was…yes!

Dust is funny.  I think of how I only sweep at certain times of the day, due to light placement.  If the light is too bright I notice I’m just contributing to the dust exchange.  This ain’t no truffle shuffle (Goonies shout out).  This is the dust shuffle.

Much like most things happening in and around us on the daily, dust is an acceptable particle of life.  I believe there is a link between noticing dust and noticing…other things.  Things that one may find just as annoying or obvious.

What if we perceived inner turmoil as that which needs to be swept and/or shuffled about?  If the dust were actually little pieces of shit, we wouldn’t think twice of removing it.  I say, same goes for dust on the floor and “hypothetically” in our being.

Time takes time.  Like you, like you a whole bunch…enough to address the dust.

Sunsets Apart


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I may from time to time, be face deep in water.  Yet magically, and somehow inevitably, still seek out the blush of light.  As I drop it, drop it low now, a frog instantly scared the pixels out of me.  A fine reminder of how intrusive human steps can be on one sleeping nature.

I thought to myself. If the water keeps rising and the unwelcome temperature seems a bit too cold, retreat.  Retreat to what brings you light, think of the most organic of places, with sounds of calm and presence to embrace you.  Mind the frogs and carry on.