These are a couple of new Christmas photos I did for iStock and Getty. Still doing some after Thanksgiving chores while I start my holiday shopping. We already have baby Brooklyn’s gifts, it was so much fun to shop for a little one again and we can’t wait to celebrate her 1st Christmas!
See other Wordless Wednesday participants here.
Still recovering from a busy week and hosting the Thanksgiving feast. My sister and her family stayed with us this week and brought their chihuahua Lola all the way from Carlsbad, California. It was great to see everyone and fun to have a dog in the house again. One afternoon while everyone was out and I was home doggie sitting, I decided to see if Lola would model for me. I took my time coaxing her into the spare bedroom I use as a studio. I let her sniff the room thoroughly, showed her my camera and fired off several shots so she could hear the sounds and see the flash, and then I held her on my lap for a few minutes before putting her on the white table top. It took a couple of minutes of petting and talking to her before she sat down, relaxed, and began striking a pose!
No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as the dog does. ~Christopher Morley
My blogging buddy Sandy at My Inner Edge posted this poem last week with a photo and I just loved it so much I’m stealing it today and illustrating it with one of my own photographs for my not-so-wordless Wordless Wednesday entry!
INITIATION, II
At the crossroads, hens scratched circles
into the white dust. There was a shop
where I bought coffee and eggs, coarse-grained
chocolate almost too sweet to eat.
When I walked up the road, the string sack
heavy on my arm, I thought
that my legs could take me anywhere,
into any country, any life.
The air, dazzling as sand, grew dense
with light: bougainvillea spilled
over the salmon walls, the road
veered into the ravine. The world
could be those colors, the mangoes,
the melons, the avocado evenings
releasing their circles of moon.
I climbed the pink stairs, entered
the house as calm and ephemeral
as my own certainty:
this is my house, my key,
my hand with its new lines.
I am as old as I will ever be.
~ Nina Bogin
Your sweet face heals my heart.
Make your own pop art photo here!
Sunset over Lake Yellowstone, Yellowstone National Park.
Living is strife and torment, disappointment and love and sacrifice, golden sunsets and black storms. I said that some time ago, and today I do not think I would add one word.~ Laurence Olivier
Teaser Tuesday asks you to : Grab your current read, Open to a random page, Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page. This teaser is from one of my novels, and like me the main character has hit those mid-life years where you feel like the future is finally just around the corner, for better or for worse! That’s my mom with my sister Amy and my big brother David, and my dad steadying baby David as he takes his first steps.
Maxine had only to close her crinkly farsighted eyes and she could see her father, young and healthy, putting on his felt fedora and blowing her a kiss as he left for work in the morning, or her pretty young mother setting a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies down on the table in front of her after school. She could see a six-year-old Sela at her first ballet recital, the ten-year-old Sela doing cartwheels on the front lawn, and the confident young college student waving goodbye in front of her dorm at Brown. It all went by so fast. Too fast. Maxine often wished she had a pause button that she could hit on the really good days. She didn’t want to stop time—she just wanted to slow it down and give herself more time to take it all in.
I haven’t posted any generators for a while and since life can’t be all whine and no play, here’s a few online image gadgets for you to check out. The MP Change website is really wild (Clooney in the afro). You upload a photo (simple straight on portraits work best) and it animates it and then you can add wigs, hats, and facial hair. Unfortunately, you can’t save the actual moving picture, but it’s still a lot of fun! Just click on the pics and go make your own:)
Teaser Tuesday asks you to : Grab your current read, Open to a random page, Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page. I’m reading The Book of Lies by Brad Meltzer. I don’t read a lot of mysteries or thrillers but sometimes I think it’s good to step out of your reading comfort zone and shake things up a bit. I’m really enjoying the read and when I went to his website I also enjoyed his snarky sense of humor! He has fake movie trailers and in one video he’s got family members reading some crummy reviews of the book. It’s totally hilarious, you gotta love a guy who can laugh at the critics! And if those are real reviews I certainly don’t agree with them. I plan to read more of his books, he’s an interesting guy and a good writer.
My teaser sentences are from page 44 where he writes, It’s so damn easy to judge. But Paulo knows from his niece, no matter how much you want someone back in your life, sometimes it’s the letting-them-back-in part that hurts the most. I reread that second sentence several times. It struck me how true it was, and not just about letting people back in, but about letting anything back into your life that you associate with heartache. Years ago, I had to stop painting because I was very ill. When I finally regained my health I didn’t go back into the spare bedroom where my easel was set up for many months. I thought it was because I was afraid I wouldn’t remember how to paint, that I may have lost the ability to be creative after going through so much physical and emotional hurt.
One afternoon, I finally got up the nerve to venture into my little studio. I opened a can of turpentine and squeezed a selection of oil colors onto my palette. Facing a blank white canvas, I breathed in the scent of my paints, dipped my paintbrush into a swirl of cadmium red, and promptly burst into gut wrenching sobs. It was at that moment that I realized it wasn’t the fear of not being able to paint that had kept me away from my art, it was the fear of losing it all over again if my health problems returned. I had grieved long and hard after first losing that part of me, did I really want to let it back in? So I agree with Mr. Meltzer, that simple little sentence says a whole lot about human nature and I imagine most of us can relate to in one way or another.
bookbabie 