Red Doors and Epiphanies

There's something about red doors.  I love them. The door to my apartment is red. Then again, doors of any color have always been fascinating.  Archways, entryways... this of course shouldn't come as a surprise. 

What was interesting is this church is called The Church of the Epiphanies. Eureka!  I saw the doors heading to meet one of best friends for lunch.  Then had to drag her back to get the photos (thanks Erin!).  Now, let me tell you, I'm sure by being on holy ground with the name of epiphany, I set some things in motion.  

It's always that way - the smallest of things result in the largest paradigm shifts.  Something small and "seemingly unimportant" events spark a shift in consciousness.  I pay attention to the things that call me to them.  It was the light and shadows at the front door yelling to me.  

Over the last week, I've experienced a powerful set of epiphanies and moments that start to shift you.  It was bound to happen.  It always does.  We all go through cycles of understanding and having those 'aha' moments.  There are times when they start flying in and you need to document them.  

Let me get to the point - one of the most important lessons this week had to do with belonging.  Whether you read that as "if you belong" or "having a place you belong" or "who you belong to" it's all relevant.  No better way to think about it than a door.  

How many times do we try to force our way into something?  Like putting your foot in a door so it won't close?  Trying to get the set of keys.  Hoping someone leaves the door unlocked for you - an opportunity, a job, a relationship.  There's no forcing it.  I've stood at many a locked door in my time.  I've had doors slammed in my face.  I've stood outside knocking in the rain.  

At some point, you learn to peek into the places where it looks inviting and the doors are slightly ajar.  The doors that say "welcome."  The places you're called and invited to.  While there's merit and reason to fight to open doors, there's another set of values for walking into doors that are opened for you.  There's also merit for looking for other entrances to the places you need to get into. 

I've been documenting these moments them in a journal.  Sometimes they're just too private to put on display.  But documenting those in photos is another way.    

Thing is, once those epiphanies begin, once there's a shift you can choose to let it roll and become better and different or you have the choice to shut it down and maintain.  I've shut it down a few times in my life.  But I've hit a point where I can't any longer.  So when all of it begins, I let it roll.  

Just a warning, if you're having one of those cycles of expansion, it will exhaust you but it's one of the best feelings.  You know when you come out of it, you'll not only be better for it, but you'll have a whole new set of ideas and things to do.  You'll have a new sense of purpose.  You'll have that sense of belonging.  Just let it happen.   

Epiphanies.  Red doors. 

Forgiveness and Not Permission

Trotting along per my usual, coming from some crazy place taking photos, I come down the escalator and BOOM... here he is. 

I don't know him.  I didn't ask to take this photo.  But in that moment, there's so much happening.  I wondered after I snapped it, where he was going, who he is and what he was thinking about.  I wondered if he had come from work. 

But he was standing there, what was I supposed to do?  Those who know me well know there's no way I was about to let this moment pass. Maybe about 6'5 in all his precious glory and who was I NOT to take this photo? How could I not capture him?  I don't even know what his face looked like.  Didn't matter. Can't you see his glory? 

Sometimes, you just have to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. 

And there it is. 

In the words of Thomas Hoepker, "If I'd asked I wouldn't have the photo."

To be honest though, most of us as photographers struggle with the idea of taking the photo. Whether we need to ask.  It used to be understood if you were in public, you weren't assuming privacy any longer but the culture has shifted in some ways.  Still, you happen upon those moments and just need to get the photo -- if you hesitate, you'll miss it.  Additionally, there are moments where it's too important to raise the camera.  That you need to be present.  You may not capture it, but you'll still have the memory.  Again, there's a very unique struggle.

I don't often post photos of people.  I probably should.  There are some sitting in the archives from the last years.  I actually enjoy taking photos of people.  But I've found, the best time to do that is when you don't know.  Or when they're in their element.  I actually don't enjoy staged photos.  

Or maybe I do, but it's staged in a moment when you're effortlessly beautiful and can't exactly see me.  Either way, just thought I'd share this shot with you. 

- Rae

Same Place, Different Time

Back in February, I found this set of railroad tracks.  If you know me, you know I'm obsessed with them.  I don't know why... I don't know what the correlation is with them or why they're so special to me.  I just know I have to take pictures of them every time I see them.  Or I mark where I was and go back and take it.  

In this case, I wasn't supposed to be down this road.  Clearly ....with the sign that said "local traffic only" but as it happens, I'm local.  I consider myself local everywhere.  

So I'm out a few weeks ago and I set out for what I now call my "spot."  I get there and I haven't seen it all summer.  It's lush and beautiful, green.  

Same place, different time. 

Isn't it funny how we find ourselves in the same place, but in a different time and see things anew?  See a person, a situation, a place, ourselves differently than we did before?  Just the turn of a season and there's something new.  

I plan to head back there as the season changes the colors of the leaves.  I plan to get back there when it snows.  But for me, it has a different meaning.  It has a special place of being able to see the beauty in things no matter the time or the state. For me, it's a reminder to look for the beauty in the moment no matter what the season. 

“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.
”

— Shug Avery, The Color Purple

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Unknown Destinations

When I started with this camera, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with it.. Sounds crazy if you know me right? I put off buying in for years - afraid I wouldn't make good on the investment.  But something told me, it would be the best form of cheap entertainment for me.  In fact, I'd been wondering what I would take photos of - wasn't really sure.  I had a few ideas from years ago that I loved industrial spaces.  I loved warehouses and beautiful, old buildings.  I loved abandoned spaces, factories - that's the Detroiter in me bleeding out strong. 

I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Robert Houston a few weeks ago by way of another friend and photographer, Johnathan French.  I asked him what did he think was important for a new photographer to know.   He told me:

“Pay attention to what you photograph. After a while you’ll see that you’re taking pictures of very specific things - probably two or three themes across all of your photos. And don’t be afraid to take pictures of everything. ”

I've spoken about changing perspectives and photography before ...but now it's changing my writing. It changes the things I'm willing to discuss.  What I capture sometimes is directly related to what's on my heart. 

I know we don't always give art due credit.  It's place in society has, at times, been diminished. But the reality is there's real value in it - even if you never share it with anyone.  What I had to do to get this photo... well that in itself is a story.  

But the moment I went back and looked at this photo it made me think of this journey I've been on most recently.  Not that I haven't always been on a life journey - we all have - but I've checked out and not been present on certain parts of the journey.  This reminds me that for farther than the eye can see, there's always a path.  Sometimes we don't know where it's leading us...other times we have the map with the notes.  But for what it's worth, the trip is still worth taking every single day.  But there are so many unknown destinations along the way, that I can't help but marvel at the fact that there's a plan and then there's a plan. 

The basics of this location lend to the fact that I've only ever seen five other souls around the area on this street.  It's isolated in a space that's dense.  It's a rare space.  It's a moment I get to be in the middle of a dense space, that not many pay attention to and still have a moment of peace. 

I know it won't always be there - not in this form, but that's the importance of taking the journey and capturing the moment.   

It Must Have Been Her....

Attending an event this last week, I was walking around Anacostia.  I love the area.  It's something about it.  It's reminiscent of where old DC and new DC collide, with just enough old DC for me to remember why I moved here in the first place many years ago.

But this store....an old store front with the typeface on it, was yelling at me to take it's picture. I needed the picture of the words.

IT MUST HAVE BEEN HER_ ALL ALONG 

it read....

After some research, I found it used to say "It must have been HERE all along."  But on Saturday that didn't matter. 

It was the moment when I started thinking.  The moment when I began to realize how poignant that moment was and how relevant at the same time.   It was as if the statement was posted in those moments of regret we have when we realize we've let a good love, possibly the best we've seen so far, slip away.  Or maybe that the intuition was correct - in either direction.  Or on a brighter note, the moment we realize it really is him/her and we change our direction to reflect accordingly.   That we come to this awakening of sorts about the way things are, the way they should be. 

I wish someone had been with me at the moment.  Mostly because of the awe in which I stopped.  But it was almost like it was a little secret in broad daylight and the building wanted me to know, as if it was telling me what was to come. 

xoxox

Rae

The Search for Home

This topic comes up often.  At least in my mind, in my spirit. 

Mostly because I feel like the home I once had doesn't exist anymore.  It's in my memory bank and I recall those moments of when I spent time there.   I've since constructed a new one.  One I love, one that makes me feel comfortable and warm and welcome.  

And then the idea of creating home comes up.  That it's not something that's instant - it's something you create and build over the years.  You search, you collect, you join and de-clutter and add-on and partner and it becomes home. 

Maybe, I realized, it's not about the building.  Maybe it's about where your heart wants to be, where and to whom it sends you traveling towards.

I had that moment a few weeks ago and wondered if I would ever find that place I again.  Truth be told, I have.  But it wasn't where I expected.  It's in this little apartment in an area that is becoming newly interesting amongst the gentrifiers in the city.  The building is worn.  I even saw a mouse when I moved in (he's since vacated unwillingly).  But the truth of the matter is, I had to create that little piece of peace. 

I've learned along the way, it wasn't about where you are, but who you're with.....and sometimes, who you're with might only be yourself.

Yup - it wasn't about the building or the city or any of that - it was about the person or the persons surrounding you.  Those who you count on.  Maybe it's just one person.  It's the person you call when you're in trouble, or in need.  Or if you can't call them, it's the person you wish for. If you've lost that person, others will be sent.  It took me decades to meet mine.  But each and every one of us needs a person who will hold our hand during the times things are rough. Someone who can tell us who we are when we lose our way and check us and tell us when we're bullshitting.  

No bullshit.  

They aren't always who you think they're supposed to be.  It could be someone you meet through friends, it could be someone you've known for years, it could be the person you married. In fact, personally, while the person may not be your soul mate (do those exist?), I do hope you find home with the person you marry and are committed. 

I'm being pre-emptive here because so many of us (including me) don't have spouses, but there's still a yearning to have a home and a community. 

So what happens when you find a home and for any multitude of reasons you can't dwell there? I am making peace with what happens if I can't get there, if the place I've longed for isn't in the cards.  In the meantime, I've made a fine little space for myself.  A space I love to hide in... and I've learned others love to hide in - that's the making of a home.

A place where you can retreat and renew.  A place where you get a chance to create and figure your life out.  Somewhere peaceful and full of love and the things that make you happy.  We all have to have a personal beacon of sorts.  Sometimes the beacon is a person (it is for me) and other times, it's a space (that too).  Sometimes it's both. 

I rather find the making of a home to be a sacred thing.  No two will be the same.  Nor should they.  I just know I know of two places in the world where I'm safe and I can rest easy - even if it's only for a short while.  

What makes something feel like home to you?

For me, it's the way it smells, the way it looks and how I'm able to live in it.  It's the availability to things I love, when I can cook.  It's a place that inspires me to do great things and relax.  Where I can let my guard down.  It also happens to have incense, candles, wine... and lots of tasty food with great sheets and good water pressure... but you know - creature comforts :) 

The Testing of Mettle

And what happens when your dreams don't come true ...or don't happen on your timing.

Last Saturday, the wonderful @ggreneewrites hosted the Soulful Beauty Chat with creatives across the region at Culture Coffee.  First, being included amongst the women in the room was an honor. I had the opportunity to hear @tyunscripted @PishPoshPerf @aisforalex @sherlyleigh and @sheismoxie share and to put it mildly, it was powerful.  It's not often as a blogger, writer, creative,  that you get the opportunity to share your work - live.  Especially when it's a piece that hasn't been posted before.  

This was the perfect opportunity.   Even though I was in a safe space, when GG announced it was my turn, I almost passed out trying to get out of my seat.  If you met me, you'd maybe never know how terrible my stage fright can be.  But we manage through even when afraid right? Right. 

I thought I should share this piece here.  It's important.  It may not be what you want to hear, but I can tell you there may come a time that you may need it.  I hope this helps you. 

“No one gives up on something until it turns on them, whether or not that thing is real or unreal.”

― Thomas Ligotti, Teatro Grottesco

First, let's define mettle: 

met·tle

1. a person's ability to cope well with difficulties or to face a demanding situation in a spirited and resilient way.

On the night she lost her greatest dream, it didn't seem like a day any different from the previous 14285 days of her life.  Except on this ONE, there was a sudden realization that what she wanted most ----- she wouldn't be able to achieve on her own. At least not without faith.  At least not without some higher power.   That it was highly possible even, she might not get it. 

To put it simply,  every method was pulled -- every method that wasn't deceitful that is -- and there wasn't any output - unless you count hard won lessons of the heart.  Speaking of which, that heart? While still in good working order, was in pieces and a bit fragile.  It was nothing short of miraculous that it was still working. 

But delayed reactions had a way of settling things down.  It allowed the abnormal to appear normal. At least until - something random, but ordinary happened - say the cracking of thunder or the noticing a chip in a precious tea cup - it was the ordinary sequence of things that could set it all loose.  The synchronicity of it all. Today was no different.  Just a simple question. 

Within seconds, as if she has a glimpse from another world.... she realized she wasn't cut out for the arena she was moving in, researching - as she lovingly dubbed it... this LOVE thing.  

Plainly, it was going to have to go.  

The realization was followed by a rush of terror, then a moment of relief, followed by another moment of sheer terror at the thought of relinquishing the dream.  Was it even something to pursue?  

But how do you tell a lover not to love? 

What happens when you need to make peace with things that may go undone?  Things that may go unsaid?  What happens when your dreams don't turn out as planned? How is it we cope? 

Enter mettle.  Sometimes moxie will do.  Chutzpah.  Fortitude.  Perseverance.  A strong spirit.  But I think - it's the mettle that describes how it all comes together. 

Mettle is tested and won.  Mettle can be a true distinction on those who manage to survive this world and live to tell the tale.  But what happens when it's being tested amidst the denegration and destruction of a dream?  I know it's difficult to think a dream might not happen.  But it's often at the end of our lives when we reflect this way.  What would happen if we let the idea of the dream go - today? What happens if maybe, for just a few minutes, an hour, a day, a week...that we forgot about those dreams for just a little bit?  That we let ourselves rest and be off the hook for all of the life accomplishments we're clamoring towards?

What happens when the dream is delayed? It doesn't happen like you thought God said it would at 28. Or at 38. What happens if at 48 it's still not there? Is your life over? Can you move forward? 

In this moment, I rather think we might actually get something done.  And I think that's what's really important.  

At the in-between of our lives - the moments between birth and death, it's not what you dream that's as important as what you actually get done.  We miss valuable moments in lament and mourning for things never done.  Some things that may never be done.  

If we take the death grip off hope, we can live life.

That's not to say you shouldn't have goals and dreams.  We need those to keep us moving.  It's to say sometimes, they may need to rest and change.  That it's ok if we don't get everything done on our list.  It's ok to actually live and get things done.  It's ok if our dreams don't line up with what we told everyone we want.  That it's ok to change.  That it'll be ok even if some things we most wanted don't happen.  It doesn't change the value of our lives.  It doesn't change the purpose.  It doesn't change God's ability to bless us.  It just means we might need to change and be willing to walk a different path.

That my friends, is the testing of mettle.  

Open

I pass by this sign daily.  I never notice it in the morning, although it's on.  It's always on.  It belongs to the braid shop.  Resting at the back of the building, I noticed there was another entrance and that maybe the front space I always looked at was only a mere beginning to the space. 

I had to walk over and take a photo - mostly because the sign was talking to me.  

I'm open. 

Open to new things, open to good love, open to new and wonderful experiences, open to new views, open to growth, open to God. 

It's one of those times in life I can't seem to shut the valve off.  I want to some days, but I just can't.  So I stopped fighting.  It comes that moment when you have to be open to certain things and people. 

Mostly, I'm open to love and God.  It seems to be a running theme in my life.  The two always walking hand in hand and visiting me.  But I feel open.  

It's not a bad thing.  It's a special time in my life, albeit one that's difficult and sad, but it's one most of us will all head through if we live long enough. 

I'm thankful for these peaceful and special moments.  The moments I'm able to sit with those I love and look in their faces.  All of the love, the hugs, the kindness extended in this time.  It's just special. 

Open. 

The Art of Coping

I was out with a friend, catching up.  Inevitably, said friend of mine asked me what my next plans were.

I had to pause for a moment and drink my wine and look off.  

I wasn't fully certain.  

I've been dealing with family and personal challenges over the last year.  Such that I couldn't really write about them.  I can tell you they exist and are happening.  I can tell you I'm coping well..or at least that's what I've been told. 

I can honestly admit, some days are better than others.  I can admit that some days aren't great at all. 

The funny thing is I don't remember how I answered - the stress doesn't always allow for immediate memory.  But I want to replay the scene at the end of Notting Hill, when Anna leans to her agent to ask the reporter from earlier who asked "How long will you be staying in the UK?" to ask his question again so she can change her answer to "Indefinitely."

I want to go back and answer - differently. 

Or something like that..... 

Shonda Rhimes's commencement speech | talk | motherwit prompted part of this and you can read her words here.  Mostly the part about action and doing.  

Within the last couple of months, I realized I do indeed have a book waiting to be written and photos that need to be taken.  I do want to be married | partnered and in love.  I do want to make a difference and make sure I'm making a profound one.  I've also equally decided some of the things that don't suit me any longer and I can let those go - happily. 

How all of that looks?  It's still unfolding.  I wish I could say I had everything in place.  I have everything I need and I have God, but I can't say everything is in its proper place.  I can't say I've figured it all out.  It's just I'm willing to admit what I don't know - at least what I don't know right now. 

I've also learned part of it's learning how to cope.  How to process the things that can't be fixed. How to make peace with the moments we don't get back and the things left unsaid.  How learning how to cope can be a turning point for us when life gets hard.   Being able to sift out the things that have held us back.  Learning how to shine through the sifting process.  

Honestly, it's been one of the hardest parts of the road.  But it's been worth it.  

Coping isn't something we're taught.  Mostly, we teach ourselves.  Sometimes how we cope isn't in a way that's conducive to our best interests.  I didn't always cope "so hot" as my grandmother might have put it.  Sometimes though, tough things happen to us to slow us down for a minute - to get us to prepare for bigger, better and more amazing things.  Maybe to get us to see some things.  

The point of coping is to get us to the next point - albeit a better one we pray.  Sometimes that works the way we want it to and other times it doesn't.  I don't even think we're conscious of it. 

At least I've realized on this side of 30 and staring at the door of 40 - coping - in all of it's art form - wasn't always easy or productive for me.  Well, let me not say that - it was.  I'm still here to share and tell the tale.  Nowadays my coping is productive.  It looks like a hobby.  It churns out product and ideas.  It helps others.  

I'm sure as I get older, the coping might just take on a better turn - God, please.  I realize now, the things I do to cope can enrich my life versus cause additional problems later (key point here). Same coin different sides.  I wish I could tell you the journey was easy - but it hasn't been.  I wish I could tell you I was super excited about my major decisions and those that've been difficult in the last months - once again, I'm not.  But, what I can tell you is I've learned to live with the decisions and where I am in my life.  That despite the current time, my life is still good and beautiful.

I'm not exactly sure how I arrived at this blessed state of contentment and love - well, I am... but that's a story for another day. 

City of Angels

“When every hope is gone, ‘when helpers fail and comforts flee,’ I find that help arrives somehow, from I know not where. Supplication, worship, prayer are no superstition; they are acts more real than the acts of eating, drinking, sitting or walking. It is no exaggeration to say that they alone are real, all else is unreal.”

— Mahatma Gandhi

Often, I've found my level of hope staggering considering the odds.  I'm not even sure where it comes from.  I don't understand how, many days, despite what might be happening, I manage to see the glass as not just half full, but am able to celebrate the tangible fact I have a glass. 

I don't know if hope floats, as the saying goes.  I do know I wear hope like I do my bracelets - daily.  That it's easily accessible.  Maybe it comes down to my belief in and faith in God and how I've seen Him move when there seemed to be nothing to work with, from or towards. Miracles are still alive. Or at least my spirit likes to tell me such.

I also know sometimes, we tend to reserve all the hope in the world for others while not leaving enough for ourselves.  We carry around the idea that maybe they deserve all the good while we wallow in our our sorrow and [perceived] difficulties.  Hope can be reserved for us too.  We have the right to keep enough for ourselves and dole it out for others as needed.   And better yet, sometimes, others hope for us in our place.  Like the prayers of the elders.  Intercessory hope.  When you don't have it, it's key to have those around you who do.

Hope that  descends upon us in our time of need.  

Lay It On the Table

“If indeed you must be candid, be candid beautifully.”

— Khalil Gibran

Sometimes, whether we want to or not, we have to lay ourselves bare and just put it all on the table.  

No one comes together with another person with empty pockets or bags.  It doesn't happen. Unless we're speaking of babies.  No matter how we come together - as friends or as lovers, everything needs to be put on the table.  At one time or another. 

Some things have to be laid out sooner than others.  Other things, they can wait.  Sometimes, we don't have a choice but to lay it all out or lose. 

This isn't cards.  We don't need to hide our hands.  We lay them down and bring our hands together to form one hand.  Love is about bringing it all together.  

It's like preparing a dinner with what you have.  My father is an expert at seeing things in the fridge and making a meal when no one can see how it all comes together.  Ever had a wonderfully unexpected dinner that wasn't planned, wasn't from a recipe but was from what you had left over? Putting everything on the table reminds me of those dinners.  

Sometimes we won't lay it out because we think someone won't like what we have.  But what if you learn they have some of the same things you do? What if they have the missing pieces you need to make your life better?

Meet people where they are, with what they have. 

Sometimes we're not as open as we would like to be.  Fear of judgment.  Fear of rejection.  

For me, I realized I had the opportunity to be more open when I stopped worrying about how people around me might receive what I had to say.  So many times we're afraid to speak with people.  Tell them what's really happening, what's really going on. 

As someone who is a blogger, shares online, I share quite a bit.  Few people really know me though.  Ever fewer are within the inner sanctuary of my life who know me better than I may know myself.  They can anticipate things for me when I may not be able to do so for myself.  It's a blessing to have those people close and within my reach. 

But who can you open up to?  Who can you be fully yourself with?  Do you feel others can be fully themselves with you?  

Beauty for Ashes

To appoint to them that mourn in Zion, to give to them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified. Isaiah 61:3

 

God has this innovative way of using the most difficult of circumstances and situations.  You can be right in the middle of something and trying to get through it.  Wouldn't you know it - you can see the beauty in the ruins.  

There is something about seeing something for the first time in a new light.  In a new way.  

Passing this building on a warm Sunday here in DC, I came across this window.   What I noticed was the light, the layers.  You could see something was happening.  Even though the building was in the midst of a transformation it was still beautiful. 

I actually think it's a great symbolism for where I am in this moment.  I can see the potential.  I can see the beauty.  But things are being torn down and built again.  A re-construction of sorts. The foundation is good.  The inside is being reconstructed.  

There's freedom in knowing we have room to change and grow.  There is freedom in knowing that although we can be firmly planted and rooted in some ways, we can still be changed and renewed.  There is something special about knowing there is a room for beauty even amongst the ashes. 

Tongue in Cheek

Out taking photos of flowers a few days ago, I snapped and looked at the screen and gasped. 

Mostly because it looks like a tongue.  

And my mind isn't often working on thoughts of sweet nothings.  

God tends to have patterns doesn't He?  Are you impressed? I am. 

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What Remains

May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice. Psalm 141:2

I have this thing for incense. 

I use old glass candle jars as incense holders.  It means the fragrance is enhanced as the ash drops onto the wax.  Over months' time, you get the picture above.  A series of incense. A series of moments and then a moment when you have to toss out the old jar - reluctantly.  Because it's become a ritual.  A prayer.

I say reluctantly because I know I'd burned incense through the months.  In the mornings on my days off, in the evenings when I come home from work... midday when I just need to change the environment in the house.  Funny enough, my father is also addicted to incense just like I am.  So I'm sure I got it honest.

But what remains within the ashes and the stems? I've always wondered what the jar would say. I'm constantly intrigued by the patterns that form.  The order in which they were burned.  The prayers I may have offered with each one I lit.  

I thought I would just capture the image - worthy of it's own moment. 

How Photos Changed Me

I didn't think a camera could make such a difference.  Truly.  I had no clue.  But running around and taking photos and capturing moments and things seems to be a curiosity to the public - and those around me. 

I thought I was supposed to be writing.  Which I am.  But it's bigger than just writing. It's about telling stories.  About figuring out how and where your griot operates. 

Mine lies somewhere in the community of everyone I know, doing things and also showing up in unusual places. Funny enough, when I began my first blog it was all about numbers and how many hits I could get. You (read I) got wrapped up in that sort of thing. 

Now? It's about making a difference.  It's about sharing.  I'm not worried about numbers or stats. Not concerned about SEO.  However, I do have the hope that as many people as possible are moved by my work.  Maybe it leads to a conversation, a movement, a gesture.  Something.  A shift. 

That's success. 

When I put the camera in my hands I didn't know what would happen to me.  I began to see the world closely and more intricately.  I see people in a different way.  I see moments, colors, sounds. The people who come and speak to me as I'm out taking photos - they change me every time I press the button.   When they have input and are invested without even knowing me. 

I'm pretty sure there is much more to come.  More than I am able to imagine.  But I'm thankful the camera and I have become friends. 

Now to work on the purchase of these new lenses.... sheesh. 

Remain Tight or Blossom?

Walking past this bud on the tree, I was thinking about how closed it was.  New.  But closed.  The others were blooming.  This one wasn't quite ready.  The unfurled green leaf says it will be soon. We often don't think we're ready.  We hold so tightly onto the things we know.  We're hoping someone will come along and pry us open.  That's not the way things go.

Anais Nin said it best: 

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
 

Read the Fine Print

I love looking at money.  Who doesn't?  I especially love foreign money and the differences you can see.  But looking at our own US Dollar coin today made me pause for a minute.  But after seeing them for the last few years, I only today noticed the fine print on the rims of the coins.  I had to think was this always there? 

The good thing about photography is it forces you to see things in different ways.  One of the main things I've noticed is what I pay attention to, the things I find beautiful and unique.  It also makes me think of the fine print.  How often have I missed what's obvious?

Made me stop and think - which is what makes me so thankful to have this camera. 

Valuable Things in Awkward Places

I was riding through the city a few weeks back.  I love industrial spaces and graffiti.  I was over there in NE DC, off of NY Avenue when I saw these murals.  But what stood out to me was the empty bottle of champagne. The Dom P.  Now me personally, I'm a fan of cheap champagne. It tastes better in my humble opinion.  I still recognize there's value in the pricier options. Also, my expensive champagne of choice is Veuve.... but I digress. 

Have you ever felt out of sorts?  Out of place?  I couldn't help but identify with the empty bottle.  I kinda felt sorry for it. I was curious about the story it had to tell of the night before.  How old was it?  When was it bought?  What had it seen?  Who had split it and why did they so carefully place it there?  I say carefully, because often they are tipped over or broken.  But it was in tact and had just been left there.  For some reason, I just had to capture it. 

Answered Prayers + Mustardseeds

This afternoon I was praying.  More like having a conversation with God.  Asking Him how I was expected to deal and manage all of the things I have ahead of me.  I also, in no uncertain terms mentioned that if I was going to have to manage everything that 1) I would need help and 2) I would need a word.

Lo and behold, my phone rings.  My Aunt is on the other end.  She's 92.  She's amazing, beautiful and saucy.  She's always been this way and getting on in years hasn't changed much.  She gave me the word and the help I needed. 

All I could do was laugh in gratitude, with an audible you really do hear me don't you God?  I can't say God doesn't hear me.  I can't say he isn't listening.  Just when I think I may be out there, I have an answered prayer. 

This pendant above - my grandmother's.  Something she gave to me many years ago.  Tells me I should have the faith of a mustardseed.  Indeed.  Indeed I do.