I was playing around with my camera and lighting yesterday. For most of the shots of this still life I kept the sunlight and the shadow of the blinds away from the table, but as it turns out, this one with the shadow is my favorite. Maybe I should drag out my paints and attempt to paint it?
I have discovered that the unasked-for accident can be the salvation of what you are doing. ~ Stephen De Staebler
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…she stared out the car window and watched as the country terrain began to roll gently under a lovely postcard blue sky, the fields and meadows changing color like the patterns on a quilt, moving from pale greens to muted gold’s to faded browns, dotted here and there with grazing creamy white sheep and striped with sleeping grape vines strung out like martyrs between five foot posts. ~Chapter 15, Love is a Many Splintered Thing
This weeks topic on Photo Friday is “isolation”.
Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone. ~ Octavio Paz
I couldn’t bring myself to post another snowy, barren winter scene… I am sooo over winter. My poor backyard is all brown mud and pools of gray snow, it’s covered with sticks and dried leaves and ringed by wilted and neglected clematis vines. I’m feeling a bit wilted and neglected myself after a long, cold winter (and a long, grief filled year) and I need a dose of color. So here’s my little park across the street before the snow and cold swept in this year. Happy SkyWatch Friday everyone!
So it’s been kind of a long road, but it was a good journey altogether. ~ Sidney Poitier
I always wanted a happy ending… Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity. ~Gilda Radner
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Nature often holds up a mirror so we can see more clearly the ongoing processes of growth, renewal, and transformation in our lives. ~ M. A. Brussat
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The other night while at a friend’s house for dinner I sampled a cheese and fell head over heels in love. Now I’m not a particularly cheesy person (so I like to think anyway), and I’m even a little lactose intolerant, but this cheese was so yummy I made Sarah write down the name so I could pick some up. It’s called Dubliner and has a slightly sweet, nutty taste. I like it sliced thinly on gluten-free crackers, but it’s also great with apples, wine, and even beer. I’ve read that it melts well too so I plan to try it in some recipes. So move over George Clooney and bring on the Metamucil, this babie has a new crush;)
Age is not important unless you’re a cheese. ~Helen Hayes
When I was growing up, my mom often took on responsibility for two of her brothers who suffered from mental illness. My first trip to New York City was to visit one of those uncles on Staten Island in the hospital. I remember riding the subway in the city, taking cabs for the first time, and skimming across a blue-green New York Harbor on the Staten Island Ferry with my mother at my side. It was all a grand adventure as far as I was concerned and it never occurred to me that my mom was under any stress; wondering what kind of shape she would find her beloved big brother in, being forced to talk to strange doctors and make arrangements to get him back to Michigan. My grandmother always turned to her youngest daughter for help when the shit hit the fan because Carol was the “strong” one, the one who could get things done. I was surprised while talking with my mom in later years when she mentioned going to the doctor to get a prescription for Valium before she had to go to court to commit her other ill brother to a mental hospital. I suppose that was one of those eye opening moments when I really looked at my mother as a person, not as an all-powerful and all-knowing parent.
One of the characters in my latest book makes the following statement while talking to a friend, “…and the thing about strength is, nobody faces a potential heartache and thinks, Hey bring it on, I’m ready. It just doesn’t work like that Susie. We do what we have to do when the people we love need us and it’s damn hard sometimes. I don’t really buy into that idea some people have more strength than others.” So I’m wondering if you agree with her, are there people who are by nature stronger than others, or are some people simply more willing to act despite their fear? And do we pay a price by acting when we are afraid, or do we gain strength?
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bookbabie 