Double Nickel

I love my iphone. I think one of the best features it has is when you are texting another iphone user and the little 'thought bubble' appears... there is such anticipation held in those three little dots, what will they say.... I am filled with fun. Unfortunately this is also the worst feature, as just as quick, the dots and bubble disappear, leaving you with nothing but 'what where they going to say?' A 'I don't want to tell you what I was going to say' moment leaving you wondering why. On a day which should be/ used to be so special of a celebration for me, that is allot.

Missed steps

Here you will find an image that I spoke of in a blog post a short bit ago Losing the Red ...the one where I mentioned the blooming Blue Bells. Above is the finished dissected from the whole, cropped adjusted, clean up (photography speak for photoshopped) one that I present to you. Isn't that a lovely word... present. Like a gift.

As mentioned before, this image is one that I was 'compelled' to find while passing through where  my home is and finding my favorite flower, the Virginia Bluebell in bloom. Mentioned before in another past post (Little Blue Smiles    2014), here it is again and I am happy to share.

It is a perfect example of finding the gem, the little thing, the part of the whole that will speak to your eye. I believe this act is part your natural vision in what appeals to you and part in training, to be able to look for and recognize something out there that works for you. When I first saw these, I started a visual scan, partly with a 'vision' in my mind of what  was 'looking for' and part to see what would 'catch' my eye. I drove past a few areas where these we sprouting, while trying to keep an eye on the road, but was also looking for areas where the light was 'right' as after all, that is what photography is all about...light... and when I came up through the woods out of the little town of Salford across the creek, I spotted this roadside patch with the garden shed, found a safe(er) spot to pull off and made a go of it.

These flowers to me are hard to shoot as they are so delicate, they droop and separate, turn brown quickly and have a scattered form and I have to usually really work with them if I am to be even somewhat satisfied. Getting down onto the ground with this bunch, I liked the way the light that was filtering around these blooms contrasted with the dark wood and stone of the shed. Using only my iphone 5s, I made a few "exposures", as you can only do so much with it, but came away happy.

As I mentioned in the other post, as with most images, it is a small part of a larger scene and like a painter, it is fun and challenging to select what you want to 'see' and 'present' out of the whole. Below is an image showing just that, the unadulterated area complete with a trash pile behind the building, an old archers target, road side gravel, red drinking cup, etc... all of it in view and minimized or excluded from the chosen angle, etc... Rarely does a spot offer such beauty that one would gasp upon encountering it. These are usually areas found in National parks or refuges that are specifically designed to protect and highlight such beauty. Everyone knows them and when I have been to them, it seems everyone else is there too. The images are 'preset'. almost like a wonderful sunset, which is so striking that to take a great photo of it, one could do it blindly. When in such circumstances, I try and find something unique, something personal to me to capture, making it an experience that only I have partaken in. It is almost like seeing qualities of beauty of a person that no one else seems to recognize, but you alone...those hidden, little things that quietly speak to your heart somehow. It is a special and isolated experience. Finding that same individual vision that you alone can see around you and capturing it into a lens where it can be shared is also a very special thing for me. Something that enlivens the shooter when someone else 'get's it' and in the process they share a connection. I had always found it fascinating when participating in photographic workshops, how completely varied ones view point and 'eye' could be, even when standing right next to each other. Maybe the image above when it resonates with the viewer, it brings with it a memory of some other place and time or experience or something they project from within. One friend who saw it said they thought of Switzerland. Who would have thought of this in the rural Philadelphia area!

Anyway, I hope that perhaps it, and my words would resonate with you today. Maybe it doesn't and you just think it might be pretty, or maybe I might have inspired you to look for and find beauty where it is not so obvious. A hidden little thing... Either way, I hope you have enjoyed it today. 
 

A Private World

This evening, I made a small field trip to check out some ducks with my duck... with hopes of a little time to sit and eat and rest and enjoy the evening. Being a somewhat chilly night following  a very grey day with a late work schedule, I arrived much later than I thought I would and as the light was already fading, the occasion was more suited to wearing a jacket than summer attire. Not many people and even less ducks were out at all. In sitting and 'reflecting' though, I thought to take a few phone photos as ideas to put to canvas. I have always loved this barn and it's awesome color scheme along the water and so I tried to capture a few images to review tonight as potential scenes that I would like to get into paint. 

I have always wanted to paint and over the years have made some feeble attempts at it, but never with great success or compete canvas to show. To date, my only finished work is the small square canvas shown below of a loving father giraffe leaning into his daughter that I did as a birthday present to my own daughter this past year. She loves giraffes and I was delighted later to find it is now a treasured possession to her. Anyway, tonight got me thinking again about another.

The thing that I always liked about painting was that you could literally create you own reality, your own version of life, a private world so to speak... as seen through your eyes. Photography has a similar appeal, but before widespread use of photoshop and with a few exceptions in the advertising world, what you got was what was actually there. With painting, you could perceive anything... any way you wanted... and your hand, pigment and brushes where the only limitations to bringing it out into actual reality for someone else to see and make it theirs too. In the above scene, the first thing to go would be the fence post and telephone pole for sure. You see? In painting, I don't have to 'remove' it as I was tempted to do in the image above, but I can just chose what to put down in paint. There is wonderful freedom.  After taking the photo, I saw someone doing something in the window and I immediately wanted to get closer to see them, what they were doing, to see the detail of this distant figure. I was no more than 200' away, but with out a bridge, it was impossible.

So, having a day off tomorrow, I will try again and go back there in the late afternoon, with pallet, easel and paints in hand to see what I can come up with as the light shifts from sunny to sunset. Painting for me is definitely a hands on activity (which I am usually pretty good at) and certainly a learning process... one where I will try to create a reality that I already see in my head. I think I will leave the duck at home this time. I don't think he will mind.

Time and Tide

A quote shared with me decades ago as I paid a last visit to a former neighbor, who was soon to die from cancer. It was a sad visit, as we both knew it was our last, one where he had invited me to his home in an effort to convince me to take his beloved car... a 1957 Plymouth 4 door sedan as a gift. Having had two cars already in my driveway at the time, I had no need nor space for this car that I had long admired along with the loving care that he had put into it since her purchased it new. For the first ten years of my life we were next door neighbors and I played with his children and shared many meals around their table, but what I remember mostly about him was his dry sense of humor and the way he would faithfully wash and wax that car seemingly every week, even though he took a bus to work, it was garage kept and he only drove it 3 miles to church on Sunday. It broke both of our hearts I think that I had to turn him down, but in the end was a delight for his long standing mechanic, who took it eagerly off of his hands into his own collection. I remember our conversation and it has always stuck with me the above quote that he gave to me. It is true... regardless of myself, circumstances, dreams or fears, the tides in time relentlessly march on.

As you might discern from the re-posted entry below that I had originally placed here on 5/24/2010, today it has been five years since my mother left this earth, a painful reminder of the passage of time. So many things have transpired since then, some wonderful which I would have loved to share with her... many I am glad she was not here to witness. In truth, I wouldn't want her to see me the way I am now. There are many things since her passing that I have lost that are so meaningful to me...life changing things, people and places that are now also gone from me, some by mistake, some intentionally taken away and some pulled away under their own power... but still somehow leaving me. I miss all of them dearly and I live daily in that some have left a familiar, unfulfillable hole as described below, one that I felt that day. So, today, I reaffirm the title and words that I shared long ago fresh anew. I wish I could just turn back the clock.

The image above I took recently with my phone off of my balcony of a full  blooming Magnolia tree next door. A tree similar to one that still stands in the front yard of my childhood home 40 years later. It was the only one my Mom allowed us to climb when I was young... that is... until we broke a major branch and then were moved the the riskier, but more sturdy Apple tree in the back. In another post to come, I think I might have included it in a photo of that house, while I stopped to take a peek when in that area with Hayden.



May 24th, 2010
Today, it has been one week and a handful of hours since my mom, Joan Knott suddenly passed away. After a vibrant active life, she is just gone, along with her warm smile, encouraging words (she always left comments for me here...anonymously....but I could tell it was her) and loving care for my growing family and I.

I knew after it happened that honoring her life somehow would be my next post, but I really struggled with an image and what to say. I didn't want to use a photo I already had, (although she had her favorites of mine) and knew I had to create something new, but had no clue as to what. Then I thought about just posting a photo of her, but realized that after more than a quarter century of making photographs, I had never taken a personal 'portrait' of her. I guess it never occurred to me to do so as I never thought she wouldn't be here. Now it is too late..... lesson learned.

The image today is one I made yesterday from her funeral flowers. She liked yellow and the unique, bending form of the Calla Lily was attractive to me, so I set up a small arrangement out by our pond and you see the results.

I wanted this post to reflect on her life, but now realize that anything I could possibly say here is woefully in-sufficient to begin to adequately describe the person she was to many and what she meant to me. In spite of the evidence before me, I cannot in my mind really believe that the edges of her life have now been set. The heavy hole that at times takes over my chest now is all the description I need and for some moments it is as if a deep well of tears has sprung from within me, robbing me of my thoughts for a time.

This second small photo that I have included is one that a friend of hers took while they were in a bush plane flying over Mt.McKinley in Alaska. If an image can contain a thousand words as it is said, then this loudly witnesses to her adventurous spirit and the sense of joy she had in living every day complete.



In short, she was a wonderful, cherished and inspirational human being who was greatly admired. Many have testified over this past week to our family what a huge impact she had on their lives. In spite of this tremendous loss I am thankfully left with a lifetime of memories and a wonderful family to comfort me and I know the sadness will someday turn to joy in seeing her again, but as of today, I really, really miss her and just want to turn back the clock.

Losing the Red

I struggled a bit with the title of this post, as if it is really anything that matters in the scope of life, but as I try and take time to be witty, or poignant, or meaningful to make someone think, maybe in some small way it does. In this one, it had me on a mind chase into these little rogue red parts of my body that are working against me, seeking to destroy me....clearly a sign of my over-wound imagination at work. In reality, this red.. for me... is my red blood cells and the marrow which seems to want to produced way too many of them anymore. These cells, a very good thing in a normal world, are dead set to populate so many of them selves, that unless I and the people who help me keep them in ranks, do so, they would kill me. Which brings me back to losing them. As terms of my I am told very rare condition , disease or whatever category you would want to place it in, I need to have regular and sometimes not so regular treatments to take these little travelers of my arteries away and let my blood vessels and other bits of my circulatory system rest for a spell. Today was one of those days... blood letting day I call it. These types of days seem to be getting more frequent which causes me concern, but in truth there could be a number of factors involved as to how much liquid I drink, to my exertion levels, to stress to just being that it is about summer time, but even with all of these unknowns involved. I don't like it.

Some people say "be thankful... it could be worse", but as it is me sitting in the comfy chair with the big needle in my arm, not them, I could easily say, "it could be better". It makes me wonder whether they think it is as if happiness is some scale and rich people have no right to be sad, nor the poor to be happy. Like saying to the downtrodden, be sad, it could be better. The truth is things of one sort or the other could always be better or worse on some cosmic scale if we graded life that way, which most people do. When I check in for these little sessions with the nurse, I am always given one of these little scales of pain shown below to fill in. I think it is silly for they do nothing different regardless of what I put down anyway. Any pain to me seems to fall to the far right, so what are we measuring? I have heard some people proudly profess, "I have a high pain tolerance". I guess they assume everyone feels the same pain and they are just tougher, or better than those who might complain. I wonder whether they ever thought of the other, 'maybe you feel it more than I do... maybe my senses are not as acute and aware as yours?' I do. I wonder what is the 'Worst pain possible' stated at the end? How would you know there could never be more? Clearly this is a guide to the physical...could emotional pain surpass this chart?

Anyway, as I lay there, trying to make small talk with the lady in the smock who cares for me, my mind goes to all kinds of places and I try to make it do so. This morning as a mini flood of unseen red donuts drained away from my arm, I thought about my drive on the way to the hospital. As I crossed over the Perkiomen creek near my house, I got my first glimpse this season of the Virginia Bluebells that are for the briefest period.... in bloom. As soon as I saw them. I started a visual search for a spot to get a photo and as I passed through the sleepy town of Salford, I saw an opportunity and took it. Along the edge of the road, was a small bunch and with iphone in hand, I stopped, got out and down on the ground and made a few 'exposures'. I texted one of them to a friend. They immediately remarked how pretty the photo was, not knowing the circumstances around it, so I stepped back to show the whole scene, complete with a worn garden shed, a pile of trash, plastic cup, etc...etc... and sent that. Their remark was surprise in "I would have never seen those flowers at all I think from the road." Exactly I thought.

While laying there with my needle, I was thinking that people look for the obvious, the exposed, the easy.... when looking around at life and it is the small hidden things, the special, the inward heart, that gets ignored, passed over and driven by. I realized that my illness is just that. It is something that to me is now solitary, quiet, unnoticed to anyone but me... but to me... it is still very much alive and ever so slowly working against me. As it has been well over a year since anyone... anyone... has inquired about the state of my body, I once again was reminded how alone I really am. I began to think about this 'small thing' that I was able to find on the way in and wished I had a table to bring a bouquet to. I thought about all the missed little moments in my day and thought to document the elements around me right then on my way back out to the car. The title image of the atrium room and these below are a sampling of what I found. The images of the blooms will be presented in another post.

Finding Philly

A weekend on the town...well, actually a couple of short trips over a weekend to be exact, but a little time spent together with my son to explore our nearest city. I really like Philadelphia, it's relatively compact size, the opportunity of things to do and see, certainly it's history and the great variety of ethnic cultures that have endured generations, thriving inside it's boundaries.

Here is a 'skyline' view that I took from the restaurant near the top of the city's tallest building, the Comcast center on a previous trip.

After having dropped my daughter off to the airport for her trip back to college, he and I sought out some fun things to do on a pretty much zero budget on a Friday night. Finding our areas premium skate park to try out his new skateboard, we found it challenging, perhaps a bit sketchy in appearance, but a place where everyone was friendly and accommodating to a beginner. The artwork displayed and the rounded 'bowls' and curves were really interesting and visually fun and it was awesome to see him trying out moves on his new ride within it's flowing walls.

 Afterwards, a short trip to a couple of Philly landmarks... (cheesesteak ground zero) and a taste test comparison between Pat's (King of Steaks) and Geno's, which is conveniently located right across the street. After sharing one of each, Hayden firmly placed his vote and taste buds into the Geno's camp and myself, being less of a cheesesteak connoisseur, agreed to agree with him. If a block long difference in the waiting lines were an indicator of public opinion, we were correct. For me, the winner of the night though was the small pastry shop next door, where the Canolli served was the freshest I have ever had...ever.

Early Sunday morning found us first perusing the awesomely delicious and inexpensive pastries at K.C.'s in Chinatown for their little 'heart' buns with creme filling. As words cannot describe the softness, the sweetness, the aroma captured in these little delights, the look on Hayden's face did.

After a short walk through this interesting area, we enjoyed a very fun breakfast at Profi's Creperie inside the Reading Market in center city, always a favorite destination. It was fun to sit and watch the Crepe' maker prepare our meal for us as I put on some french bistro music and we pretended we were in Paris for the moment. (One can only wish...right?).

 I love walking through this historic and fascinating marketplace, taking in the sights, the people, the beautiful displays and lovely, enticing  scents mixing with each other as we strolled along. From the photos, you can see a small portion of the incredible variety of locally and internationally sourced, fresh foods available. 

Satisfied with his crepe' experience,  smoked Gouda cheese purchase and other special finds, Hayden said, marvelling at it all as we were heading out the door "This is really the place where you want to come when getting ingredients to make a special dinner for a wonderful date", I would certainly agree.

A last stop at the Art Museum, for a tour of the Paul Strand photography exhibit... a fine retrospective on this pioneering photographer, to learn of his simple techniques and seeing the interesting results of a life long career and passion. Having long ago worked with a man who also knew Paul, it was very special for me to see and helped to bring some perspective on my own eye. While there, Hayden was also enthused to see the Arms and Armor display, which every boy, young and old always enjoys. Before we had to go, time was taken to tour the Asian Art wing and the varied displays that range from small ancient pieces to whole reconstructed temple rooms and an awesome area that houses an entire Japanese tea house...which has always been a favorite spot of mine. A few of Paul's works and other things that caught my eye, like these swords that seem to be dancing in the display case. 

All in all, no ground breaking photos (I only took my phone), but of much more importance as you can see, intimate time spent together...eating, walking, talking, meeting people...exploring together...just having fun. He is such a treasure to me and I could not ask for a better son. His light... God's light... that he contains and willingly shares is a wellspring of life for me. I love being with him...and I love doing these sort of things... getting out to new places, new foods, new sights with others. In this time of my life, having been pushed away  from pretty much everything familiar and cherished, this is something that is far too rare and very, very much needed.

For the buds

And yet another...

In an effort to eat healthier this new year, more purposefully and intentionally for both myself and my primary cooking audience... my son Hayden, I am reaching back to generations before me and to the recipes that were created and shared when I was a boy. Since we started spending a couple of nights a week cooking and dining together, it has been very important to me and a blessing to have healthy, flavorful and meaningful meals with him and this is my effort to do so. Good food shared together with others always, always will be important and can at a minimum, do much more than just bring joy with time together for cooking, eating or even doing the dishes side by side together creates valuable time for conversation and can form a bond not found with other activities. 

As I pull menu sources from a variety of places...friends, old family recipes and internet sites, I seek for our times together to always be different and tasty, economical and fun. In addition, as I will be traveling towards some warmth and much needed relaxation this month, I also want to trim down/tone up slightly with a goal to perhaps run a 5k with an old friend while there. Something I haven't done since I ran cross country in high school.  So... with the Christmas cookies behind me (actually not that many this year), it is a start to perhaps a better me. 

I am not promising great photos, although I will try, but as I am winging it with a spoon in one hand and my iphone in the other to make images in a very tiny and not very well equipt kitchen, don't expect great results. Food creativity is the key here, along with whatever foods I have on hand and within a small budget. I am hoping to use a new Christmas gift....a crockpot, in addition to more traditional methods as well as explore more alternative menus in my effort. It is not meant as a photo blog, but just me sharing what comes out of the kitchen. I hope you enjoy. Above, a quick shot of some milk being prepared for a latte' next to some windowsill herbs. Have a peek. http://woodspatula.blogspot.com/