Closer to Home

moonlighting

2011-11-11T08:20:00.001-08:00

Right after work last night I hiked down to the far northern end of the Pearl District to shoot the magical tents of a touring show still setting up. The moon was full, the grounds fairly deserted but the tents were all alight, and the moon shined through sheer, high clouds transcending the view into a purity and simplicity that was just hypnotic. I lost all track of time.

oh, pioneers

2011-10-30T14:15:00.000-07:00

It's the cemetery again. My friend, Pat and I loaded gear into her car and bombed through the vacant, rain-swept streets of North Portland to arrive at the old pioneer cemetery again very early this morning. Slow, heavy drip-drip-drip so familiar and even comforting to natives here, a little rain won't prevent your intrepid photo-geeks from catching the early light and tonal mood for a Halloween-ish shoot. The gates were open and we were entirely alone, as is usual in this quiet and humble place.

Can you see the faces? This tree had sustained pretty dramatic damage to the trunk with a large portion split away, leaving this symmetrical gash exposed.

There are many graves of children and infants, and this one particularly touched me this morning, just seven years old when he died. His mother, Alice, was placed here with him sometime later. I know Halloween invites the opportunity to create some creepy images, but this small grave is just so sweet and sad.

I am now feeling sufficiently in touch with my mortality, so maybe will try for a lighter subject next post!

october means cemetery

2011-10-21T08:47:00.000-07:00

I love this rather neglected old cemetery and have shot here fairly frequently over the past several years. Last weekend I found two willing ~~accomplices~~ models to participate in a small project that I've been contemplating for awhile. Here are a few sample shots. Would love some feedback if you are so inclined!

the taste of apples

2011-10-21T08:27:00.000-07:00

My first visit ever to the annual Apple Tasting at Portland Nursery last week sealed the season for me. FINALLY, evidence that summer is really over and we're moving again toward the seasons we're known for here. And I'm such a typically romantic northwesterner. Even the discomfort of standing on a wet, windy street corner, chilled to the bone while waiting interminably for a bus that never seems to arrive, can't dispel the excited anticipation that charges my soul this time every year. Also? I confess that I enjoy being amused by, and feeling slightly superior (okay, maybe not so slightly) to the recent transplants from sunnier climates consistently complaining about the long, dark drench that starts about now and doesn't really end until about the middle of July. Heh, heh. Lightweights.

And then there are the apples and pears piled over my kitchen counter this morning. Thinking that a tart would be a lovely project today. Yup.

a little gratitude

2011-10-08T11:27:00.000-07:00

A Saturday morning after nine hours of solid sleep means Iwake up with a sense of possibility again. A little ambitious. A little looserof joint. A little softer in my approach. A little prettier, somehow (isn’t themind a miraculous thing?). A little peaceful. A very little bit happier.

What happens to us asleep? How does the unconscious bring usthrough the nightly fire of our terrors and failings to a quiet morning’soptimism? I am so grateful. The sun is out. And there is coffee. Thank you.

Doc and I walked through the gorgeously anachronistic Irvington neighborhoodwhere I live on the less gorgeous edge. I brought the camera and found smallindications that it is October at last.

Griffin James Hyland

2011-09-25T12:14:00.000-07:00

I was going to wait to post these until later in the week--not sure why now. I just love these shots of Griffin! He is an adorable, sweet-natured little guy, and we had a great time together on Friday while I babysat. He wasn't too sure about the camera at first, but eventually he figured out it was still me behind that big one-eyed thing in my hands.

the local boys

2011-09-25T11:40:00.000-07:00

Grayson stayed with me overnight last weekend and arrived with his little brother, Griffin, for a visit as well. It was Griffin's first half-birthday! Yup. Six months old already. And you can probably tell that they are a pretty tight team.

And since Griffin's recently acquired 2 bottom teeth, just about everything has become a chewy treat.

bird by bird, flower by flower, shot by shot, day by day

2011-09-11T07:47:00.000-07:00

"Bird by bird" is a reference to Annie Lamott's book. But you already knew that. I'm slowly adding extra pages of various photo themes to this blog. I'm still trying to find a different path or walk some new ground in the creative side of my mind. It's so easy to get stuck in a single track or preoccupation, self-absorption, fear and worry, or just simple habit. Someday this blog will be a part of an actual website. Not motivated to make that change just yet, but it's coming, along with other changes as well.

I'm sure I posted this shot of an old porch in late afternoon several years ago, but I just stumbled across it again this morning in an old file and still think it's a good one. The heat this weekend has been pretty intense and somehow to my mind at least, this shot seems to capture an essence of that. I know it was a hot afternoon when I shot it, so maybe I'm just projecting that memory into my perceptions. So typically human...

Everywhere I go to check news updates today references the 10th anniversary and memorial observations of the crushing loss of life in New York City on this date. I don't have anything to add. I wish that it had never happened. I wish that our foreign policies were more constructive rather than destructive so it might never have happened. I wish our voices in protest and opposition to the subsequent war-mongering of political and financial interests had been heard and heeded. And I wish now we would stop the killing and the violent rhetoric, stop destroying ourselves and our once noble aspiration to honor the lives of our citizens and global neighbors. I have always thought we could do so much better. You, too? Maybe my memory is just clouding my perceptions, but it seems as though we all thought so once.

what's next?

2011-09-04T22:44:00.000-07:00

Not sure when I lost the impetus to maintain this blog, but somehow over the summer I completely lost interest and motivation to return. I am still struggling with what I'd like this blog to become; struggling with a sense of purpose elsewhere in my life as well. And trying to plan for inevitable changes while not being able to forecast the future is challenging, but I do feel the need for renewed purpose and momentum forward with my own creative projects.

I've added a page for my photos of flowers and will add additional pages for other subjects as I think more about what this blog could become.

Anyway, here are some shots from a few of the things I did this summer:

The 4th of July with Doc on my little balcony:

Not exactly on a par with the fireworks display the city puts on every year, but roughly equivalent to the level of patriotism that this holiday inspires in me lately...

A poetry reading in early August was at least an interesting diversion for a couple of hours with friends Fumi and Wayne. Have you ever been to a Kava bar? Me neither.

'Nuff said, I guess...

Far and away the best part of the summer was three little boys whom I can't ever seem to get enough of, and their parents, of course:

Grayson & Griffin playing "Angry Birds" (I seriously love this shot!)

Oscar having a pretty fun time at a backyard barbeque. (Full disclosure: I photoshopped the mustard off his cheek):

We all had a pretty fun time that night!

Griffin smilin' and Grayson chillin':

And on the last morning of the Philly Family's visit, we sat outside on the little balcony for a few minutes of calm before the long, long day ahead:

(Pointing to a little, tiny spider in its web) It's always hard to say goodbye until next visit. I just miss them always.

broadway floral, ne portland, or

2011-06-11T07:16:00.000-07:00

My favorite neighborhood merchant is Broadway Floral. I wander happily around in there at every opportunity, their displays are always beautiful and interesting. AND they allow me freely to shoot whatever captures my fancy. Here are some recent shots that represent in a small way some of the diversity of their gifts and flowers.

gettin' my shutter on...

2011-06-05T18:57:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a photography workshop next Sunday afternoon, and I'm all re-motivated for the camera again in anticipation. Also, I've been feeling much better lately so have the energy to get more stuff done again and at last!

This morning I got up early and wandered around the neighborhood shooting stuff up until the sun came up. Here are some of the better shots:

I spent most of the rest of the morning processing the shots, and then went out again to the Sunday Farmer's Market on the little block on NE 17th between Broadway and Weidler. It's pretty tiny, but very sincere. Got some shots there too:

After the Farmer's Market, I stopped in to Broadway Floral and got permission to shoot in the store, so spent another 15 minutes or so, productively firing away at their lovely displays. It's too much to post here with all the other stuff, so check it out if you've time or the interest on my Flickr set "Broadway Floral": http://www.flickr.com/photos/guttersniperz/sets/72157623624438794/

And finally on the way back home I noticed these two lovely ladies walking up the street ahead:

Seems a fitting closure.

Ta-daaa!

2011-06-05T10:48:00.000-07:00

Yesteday was the first truly warm day of the year, and Shanna brought Griffin (11 weeks old already!) and Brock to have dinner with me. I made a a pasta salad and caprese sandwiches because I didn't want to use the stove--it was actually hot outside! And we snarfed and yakked avidly for a couple of hours.

But the very coolest thing: Shanna agreed to a photo so here at last is my beautiful daughter and her little fam on their way home, everyone well-fed and happy:

AND

a better shot of the night's special guest star:

NW 23rd, friday after work

2011-06-04T11:07:00.000-07:00

Basically I could not WAIT to get out the door yesterday. I don't usually work on Fridays, but needed to make up for taking Memorial Day off so I wouldn't burn up any extra leave that I'll be needing this summer! Confused? My employer doesn't pay for holidays. Yeah. Moving on...

Here is the view heading toward the door at 4:45pm yesterday:

Straight out to the first warm Friday since, oh, maybe last October! Headed up toward Lovejoy on NW 23rd to meet Doc for an early dinner at the Nob Hill Tavern.

Looking up:

Meta photo shot through the front window at Nobby (by the lazy voyeur). Photographers and vintage cameras are everywhere you go in Portland:

Restored El Camino at the curb, I liked the color of the beer against the blue:

Interior at Nobby:

The Look, aka: the reluctant subject. Sheesh:

It's okay. He always looks this way.

We went to my place and watched "Marwencol" the most interesting and original documentary film I've seen in a very long time. It's WONDERFUL: http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi3220441369/

floribunda

2011-05-28T11:12:00.000-07:00

Click here for my latest Animoto video of a small, private obsession: floribunda

pouring. just pouring.

2011-05-27T14:32:00.000-07:00

I don't really have anything new to add today, just a surplus of flower photos and the time and motivation to post something. The weather continues to confound my best efforts to get something original done in the way of an actual photo shoot. These shots are from a couple of weeks ago, taken here in my Irvington/Alameda cusp neighborhood (I was actually on my way to Fred Meyer that day to get some groceries). It always pays to bring the camera, doesn't it?

single peony

tiny iris

desperado

I have to run to the bank today and was just about to finish this post and shut down the netbook, but it's started to rain again and I can't face another sodden trek through the dark wet at the moment. I am so damned tired of the rain this year. And did I mention that the heater's on? Because it's also cold in the house. It's a four-day weekend for me since the Memorial Day holiday is Monday. Will it never stop raining? Will I be indoors again for most of it? Sheesh. It's a monsoon!

I can't help myself, so why even try?

2011-05-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

It's spring. It's all about the floral fecundity.

Latest Griffin update

2011-05-26T18:40:00.000-07:00

He's moving with his mommy to a new apartment closer to Nana's house. Whoohoo! And here's the latest cuteness, making a point about some obsure literary reference to Doc:

Something about contemporary postmodern interpretations' insulting irrelevance to the work of Agee and Wolfe...

new calling?

2011-05-26T18:26:00.000-07:00

Not sure, but I think I've got a new hobby. Check out my latest efforts:

Batter Bread

Under the cloth...

Voila! Cheesy Corn Muffins

Apple Pecan Tarte Tatin

birthday and not

2011-05-23T13:39:00.000-07:00

Just realized that today would have been my father's 87th birthday, gone these fifteen years now.

I had an abortion on this day in 1978, about a year after Joe and I'd separated, the pregnancy a consequence of a brief, stupid, mutual indulgence. That child would have been about 32 years old today, I guess, but I have never regretted that choice. Not once. Even when I was in agonizing pain from the unanesthetized, state-funded procedure. Not even then. I owed my best effort to my already-here children; another unplanned would have been our undoing, since we all depended exclusively on my earned income.

Having the procedure on my dad's birthday was incidental, and a bit weird and inconvenient, and became a secret I never revealed to him, but it has also served as a reminder every May 23rd that sometimes making a hard choice, doing something eternally painful and sad is still worth it all this time afterward.

How many women write that story? Usually the story you hear from the media is the trumpeting of religious zealots and their pimped remorse; almost never do you hear from the women who chose to end a pregnancy and continue to feel it was the right decision. Well, here is one.

2011-05-17T08:46:00.000-07:00

Random impressions of a jazzy night for poetry in Portland, Sunday evening, May 15th. Warehouse 640 is a confederation of studios and galleries, and the location of a monthly spoken word event hosted by Ben Fisher. This month's featured poet was Jeff Ettlin, dear friend, brilliant performer and truly gifted poet. Jeff inspires me everytime I hear him read, everytime I re-open one of his chapbooks: "Mama's Boy" and "Poem Pie." Genius. Seriously.

. Jeff Ettlin, poet.

Ben Fisher, host.

here and there, this and that, tra lala, nice to get out!

2011-05-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

Because the weather's been just crappily disappointing forever, I've been feeling almost literally housebound since, well, OCTOBER. Emily Dickenson (with whom I almost share a birthday) and I seem to be of like lifestyle lately. So this past weekend was exactly busy enough to be interesting but not exhausting. How did that even happen??

Got to babysit for Mr. I'm Two Months Old Now, for a few hours on Friday:

Went on a shopping excursion to Fred Meyer on Saturday to stock up for Grayson's overnight on Saturday, and captured a little bit of spring on the way:

[Kinda love the extreme blur and saturation on these peonies... arty.]

No photos of Grayson this time (maybe next time) because we were too busy making Zentangles and spaghetti hotdogs and watching Shaun the Sheep streaming from Netflix to my netbook to think about photography. By the way, getting rid of the TV was totally worth it!!

Went to a jammin' poetry reading (with a jazz combo) on Sunday evening at a studio/gallery warehouse that was a lovely diversion from the usual, "damn, I have to go to work tomorrow" gloom that drifts through the apartment then settles around the neck and shoulders most Sunday nights. I got photos! But you'll have to wait until next post because I was too tired to download them from the camera last night. Stay tuned.

So meanwhile, here are a few more springlike photos captured in fleeting sunbreaks to tide you over:

FULL SPRING

2011-05-11T13:27:00.000-07:00

On my way to work this morning on the #77 bus as we were crossing over The Steel Bridge above the quietly surging murk the Willamette River has become of late, I noticed an enormous tanker hawsered up to the granary on the east bank. You know--the granary. Those odd silos rowed up to the eastside waterfront with that hideous, gargantuan adspace owned by the Trailblazers facing back toward the Rose Quarter? The signage that screams, "RISE WITH US" and seems to suggest that their committment to Portland fans includes some kind of sacrifice with all their devoted dedication to the righteous purity of sport? [Really? Sacrifice?? Blazers, please. When is someone going to tell Paul Allen that his PR guys need a spankin'?]

I digress. The thing I noticed right away was the name of the tanker: FULL SPRING. Like that. In full caps and huge letters. Might as well have been called AS IF. There was so much clutter of floating crap around the hull that I longed for my camera. The irony was too painful.

I love Portland so much. It is an incredibly beautiful location for a city, and has a kind of neighborly coziness that no other town of its size on the west coast can approach. Portland in full spring is gorgeous; no other word. And from some locations you can't even see the bedrolls and human remnants under the bridges, making the transcendent views even more astonishing. I have a consistent emotional response to the view of downtown Portland from The Steel Bridge regardless of the weather, but overcast sky or descending fog has the effect of stunning me with the city's complex beauty.

I swear, someday I will be up early enough to station myself on the bridge with a tripod and my camera and will finally capture some essence of that view--bedrolls, homeless guys with shopping carts, cyclists, trains and trees and all.

~~~~~~~~~

Last month I was so excited to get to spend time with Oscar and Rachel when they arrived for a short visit. The Canon XS was strategically positioned on my greatgrandmother's oak table all ready for their arrival. Even Shanna and Griffin came over. I managed to get off a few shots as we were getting settled and then, nothing. Nothing. The camera completely died. No response. Even after I'd shut it off, rebooted (so to speak), pulled the battery and put it back in; to no avail. DEAD. My other cameras were not so satisfying (and to tell you the truth, I almost never use them so I forget how the settings work, dammit) and I ended up just thwarted and defeated as a photographer. The visit was awesome and fun and Oscar is perfectly adorable and cuddly, Rachel and I had a chance to talk and it was lovely to spend time with them. You will have to take my word for it because I have no documentary evidence apart from the shots I've posted below:

PS~the problem was with the $60 lithium battery, now replaced. Sheesh. The whole Philly Family is coming back in July and I am definitely looking forward to the photographic opportunities; I hope they are.

speaking of bad habits

2011-04-17T22:30:00.001-07:00

How tired are you of my shots of bouquets? This one arrived with friends Xuehong and Wade on Friday evening, and I couldn't wait to capture these spring colors. My mom the watercolorist loved to paint flowers. Maybe this is my own little variation on her obsession? I don't think I'll ever get tired of shooting them.

always let sleeping babies lie

2011-04-17T22:10:00.000-07:00

I had my first opportunity to babysit Griffin today, so naturally indulged my favorite bad habit! He may kill me for this someday...

birdland lullaby (Stenzel Healing Garden)

2011-04-17T22:01:00.000-07:00

Facebook Meme

2011-04-12T13:34:00.000-07:00

"Remember when teachers, public employees, Planned Parenthood, NPR and PBS crashed the stock market, wiped out half our 401(k)s, took trillions in TARP money, spilled oil in the Gulf of Mexico, gave themselves billions in bonuses, and paid no taxes? Yeah, me neither."

The rare dry day

2011-04-09T13:44:00.001-07:00

Took a few shots around the Buckman neighborhood before the play. It was so nice to have a break from the rain!

Buckman School 3rd Grade Play! An Environmental History of Portland

2011-04-09T12:24:00.000-07:00

As narrated by ol' Doug Fir (aka Grandson #1: Grayson):

Portland's original pristine views.

Native americans tell stories by the rainy river.

Trapping for beaver pelts leads to handsome hatwear in London.

Tired Oregon Trail immigrants and their oxen.

A photo op with Misters Overton, Pettygrove & Lovejoy (and a frog).

Happy, burly loggers.

Spotted owl and little blackbirds.

Confident Rosie the Riveters from Vanport!

Vaux Swifts circle the chimney at Chapman School.

Chorus & audience.

Finale!

The production was incredibly comprehensive, lasting nearly 90 minutes as all three third-grade classes (Ms. Custis, Ms. Vestal & Mr. Scott) presented the story of the "civilizing" of Portland from the point of view of the native animals, elements, plants and humans--from its pristine origins to our present urban culture. I loved it!

Buckman is a magnet arts school and has a long tradition of excellent original theatrical productions. This musical play was accompanied by a 3-man jazz combo as well, but they were hunkered down in a dark corner, preventing me from getting a decent shot, darnit.

Grayson gave a truly polished performance, appearing onstage almost constantly, he never missed a cue or flubbed a single line! He's a natural actor. Baby brother Griffin seemed to know that this was Grayson's night and didn't fuss or make a peep the entire time.

A desperate attempt to invite color into the new month. Hello, April. No more rain, 'kay?

2011-04-03T20:10:00.001-07:00

Irvington views, inside & out

latest grandchild photo

2011-04-03T20:06:00.000-07:00

Griffin, two weeks.

Goodbye March 2011! Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out...

2011-04-03T19:50:00.001-07:00

And don't come back.

little boys proliferative

2011-03-27T20:01:00.000-07:00

My immortality is secure: another son for my daughter, bringing my grandchild total to 3. Griffin James Hyland was born on St. Patrick’s Day! Our family is now blessed with an official leprechaun, his wicked charm already evident, and I’m finding myself starved for his little face, the slight heft of his warm perfection in my arms, even though it’s only been a week since I last held him! He will visit again next weekend with his beautiful, healthy mom and his still-astonished dad, and his big brother, of course. How lucky is that?!

March 17^th we arrived at the hospital just minutes after his first breaths, his big brother so awed and thrilled to hold him. It’s hard to tell from these photos, but Griffin’s hair is quite fair—maybe blonde—and he has incredibly long, white eyelashes; his face is expressive and alert, knitting his brows as he looks deeply into his mother’s face when she holds him. I wish she would allow me to take her picture. I will continue to work on this.

Last Sunday after he nursed and burped and got a diaper change, he fell asleep on my lap, secure and calm. Oblivious to tsunamis and earthquakes, wars and nuclear meltdowns, subduction zones and dictators, life arrives regardless, eats, poops and takes a nap.

no pix with this one

2011-03-02T12:29:00.000-08:00

Another melancholia-soaked day in the wetlands province. The air itself is heavy with portent, the intensity and weight of event seems unavoidable now. As of yesterday, another friend has been laid off her job--a brilliant social worker and specialist in finding needed community resources for her health-clinic patients. The healthcare system we both work for has been drastically cutting jobs and budgets across the spectrum (except for managers and senior-level administrators, of course). Even my own fulltime hours have been cut from 40 to 36 as of April 1st. Thankfully, my health benefits remain intact, although my premiums will be higher. Even healthcare employees pay for healthcare insurance, with a full complement of copays. As I am now on a prescribed treatment for my RA, if I was uninsured, my injected medication would cost me $14,000/year!

The news everywhere everyday now feels urgently bad, consistently negative and relentlessly unforgiving. This morning the report that Afghani children had been gunned down by American forces led me to turn off the radio, unable to comprehend the enormity of that grief, unable to tune out the anguish screaming all the way to Portland from Kabul. (And as for supporting our troops? What the hell did that ever even mean? As far as I can tell, it's a manufactured distraction from the reality of this country's true priority: war-mongering.

The president I voted for with a degree of hope--I'll admit it!--has fostered yet another inept, impotent, posturing administration, faltering its way globally and stupidly toward seemingly endless conflicts, and oblivious to drastic conditions at home requiring dramatic corrections and the courage to make them--if sanity can be restored to our national priorities at all. There is contentious, rhetorical horseshit spewing from every politician's mouth, nationally and locally. And we only seem to speak in absolutes, either-ors, must-haves or must-have-nots. Where is consensus? What has happened to reason? And why are outright lies permitted to stand as if truth?

Because I'm 60 and have paid attention for a long time, I have what I feel is a rather informed perspective on certain things in my Pacific-Northwestern American point of view. It's not merely generational differences. I think our formerly innately American orientation toward generosity and a sense of shared abundance seems to have been not just lost, but thoroughly, cynically trashed in the past decade.

Since 9/11 and its attendant national paranoia (hello, Homeland Security), and the vituperative, escalating idiocy of two full terms of the Bush administration, our collective memory seems to have gone all Alzheimer's. Duplicitous conservative bombasts like Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck are wildly financially rewarded, thus becoming arrogantly entitled, not to mention oddly free of national criticism. I have been complaining of journalistic indifference to investigative effort since the early years of the Reagan administration, and the lack of journalistic interest in pursuing the motivations of conservative agendas still staggers me.

I digress. The bottom line here is that as a country, as a nation, as a social culture, we have lost any unifying identity as Americans. I observe (and live!) the differences in economic classes here in Portland, and can see clearly that there is going to be a reckoning of some kind soon. Our national policies are a jumbled collection of junk rhetoric and opportunistic politics. There is nothing coherent about our immigration policies, healthcare priorities, national security (!), agriculture--er, I mean, agribusiness--education, criminal justice, fair housing, employment, or anything else that would unify us as a people. In fact, we don't seem to be able to agree on anything anymore, except we sure are interested in Charlie Sheen and Justin Bieber. Lord, help us.

the families of friends, gathered

2011-02-21T11:50:00.000-08:00

The occasion of a friend's birthday celebration with poets, artists, musicians, and babies. And a final decision to pursue photography as far as it will take me. Yes.

Lil' Ruby & Dad:

Lil' Ruby & Mom:

"You talkin' to me?!":

Charley & Mom:

How do you do, Mr. McBride:

Charley & Dad:

nw pdx lunch hour browse

2011-02-21T11:45:00.000-08:00

The life-sized, much-abused horse mannekin outside Dazzle:

CostPlus Worldmarket:

between cloudbursts

2011-02-14T08:49:00.001-08:00

Wandered around the Irvington/Alameda neighborhood again on Saturday and captured some subtle indications that spring will eventually arrive, and, of course, the inevitable dried grasses and dead annuals. Forecasts for this week are for steady rain again, but no chance for snow on the valley floor. I've hoped and hoped for the opportunity to shoot some great winter scenes, but doesn't seem to be possible this year. Is February the month of impatience? Everything seems to be taking forever!

how to turn something ugly into eye candy?

2011-02-06T17:42:00.001-08:00

Oh, I don't know. Sometimes the magic just shows up.

urban wetlands

2011-02-06T17:32:00.000-08:00

On a crispy-cold day last week, I took a walk down to the Pearl District to Tanner Springs park and brought my one-eyed boyfriend. He hasn't gotten out much lately...

staff of life

2011-02-06T17:05:00.000-08:00

If I had to live solely on bread and butter and water, I'd feast. And probably gain weight.

Recently, I made a quiche and a half-dozen cranberry-almond scones for no particular reason but that I wanted to eat them. The recipes were from "The Grand Central Baking Book" that I'd just purchased. You shoulda been here! But since you weren't, I ended up eating that quiche for lunch all week. The scones, however, disappeared in two days.

Since then I've fully embraced my inner baker and French chef (voila! Merci beaucoup, Dorie Greenspan!), and have been spending inordinate amounts of my free time sampling treats from local bakeries and perusing cookbooks. Evidence follows:

The Lovejoy Bakers

Roast turkey with avocado and roasted red pepper sandwich, cole slaw, ginger-molasses cookie: sublime lunch at my desk. Wait till you see my hachis parmentier... :)

Animoto! My New BFF

2011-02-01T13:59:00.000-08:00

Just stumbled upon this totally fun website: Animoto! You can create your own 30 second videos online for free, or for a pretty nominal subscription ($5/month) you can create full-length HQ videos. I'm loving it, and will sign up for a subscription on payday. Whoohoo!

Autumn Fire--Irvington, 2010.

2011-02-01T13:55:00.000-08:00

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

autumnal excesses

2010-11-21T09:42:00.001-08:00

By now you have probably guessed that this is my favorite season. I have a large file of shots I've still not uploaded, so here are a few I've disgorged this morning for your viewing pleasure. At least I hope it's pleasurable... I am so lucky to live in a beautiful neighborhood that has a wonderful--even miraculous--timelessness somehow here in the early 21st century.

November Northwest

2010-11-07T20:28:00.000-08:00

I realize that the shots below are a bit, um, eclectic as far as collections go, but they were all taken on the same 15-minute walk around the neighborhood where I work in NW Portland. It's endlessly fascinating to me, and since I have a bit of history here--I originally lived in this neighborhood in the summer and fall of 1971 before moving away to start my family--it feels right to document it now.

Grandparents & Special Guest Day

2010-11-07T20:10:00.000-08:00

I received a personal invitation to come to Grayson's school for Grandparents & Special Guest Day on October 29th, but I had a dental appointment for that morning. Fortunately I just needed a routine cleaning and exam so I bombed out of the dentist's chair and managed to get to Buckman School just in time! I enjoyed the morning's assembly and then got a tour of Grayson's classroom and then got to sit at his desk while we composed a poem together, and then he showed me some artist software that he's been using. All of the classrooms at Buckman were gifted with small laptops from Intel because Mr. Scott, Grayson's teacher, had been doing some consulting work for them! Coolio.

Do you see Grayson?

Third-graders in Mr. Scott's class dance at Grandparents & Special Guest Day at Buckman School. Interpretive...

G-man and his classroom laptop.

loose ends

2010-10-24T16:37:00.001-07:00

After SUCH a long time between posts I'm jammed with updates so want to get as much down today as I can. But I have no photos yet for the biggest news: I'm going to be a grandmother again for the third time in March! AND I bought a car this weekend. Incredible on both counts: it's been over eight years since I last owned a car, and over eight years since my daughter gave birth the last time! Funny.

I'm completely freaked out by the sudden, damned-near-unlimited possibilities of being a car owner after all this time. No more waiting in the winter dark on freezing cold, wet, windy street corners for an inevitably LATE Trimet bus! No more begging trips to the store from generous and kind, but busy! friends or having to pay a cabbie, no more (im)patient waits for invitations to the coast, declining invitations, or missing opportunities or classes because transportation wasn't possible. No more terrorizing rides with crazed poet drivers ever again either! :) No more hauling groceries home on my back, bags balanced on my shoulders, or pulling my little cart for a mile from Fred Meyer. ...sigh...

Yes, it's a late model, low-miles used import, but it has an automatic transmission for a luxurious change, a spacious trunk and gets pretty good mileage besides. AND it's a pretty color. I love that.

I promise to post a photo as soon as it stops raining long enough! I'm still working on getting my daughter to let me take a preggie portrait. More on that and her famous shyness later. She isn't due until spring so there's still time.

Last weekend my younger sister came to Portland and stayed with me while visiting her daughter (my niece), Tegan who's a student at Portland State. Marcie and I haven't spent extended time together since before she was married almost 30 years ago! It was a wonderful visit and we talked and talked about our parents and our own parenting and just families in general. Revelatory and validating at the same time. I'm hoping we'll all be getting together more regularly now Tegan lives here. It was just so much fun.

Marcie and Tegan made dinner for one of the nights of the visit. Spaghetti--Tegan's favorite. Well, it's kind of a Boykin favorite all around. Here they are at my stove:

Yes, it's true that all of the women in my family are great beauties--combined with our dazzling intellects and unfailing social grace, we are formidable. It's a curse.

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Doc's older brother, Raymond arrived a few weeks ago for a short visit and Doc requested a portrait at an old landmark downtown--where the McBride boys posed for an Easter Sunday shot in their matching sailor suits sometime in the late 1940s. It was a total hoot to shoot them together with their matching grey beards this time. Doc is in green, Ray in blue.

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Last Sunday night I celebrated the release of Night Bomb 2, a poetry anthology published by friends, Chris and Amber Ridenour. One of my recent poems is included and they will also be publishing my book, "Creosote" next. Anyway, I also celebrated the "opening" of my first photo show at World Cup Coffee at the same event! Here is a shot of a wall of my own photos taken that night! It was pretty damned fine fun to get to say I was the one who took those photographs. I'm really pleased with the way it all came together.

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Also recently I got to do some portrait work for my friend and coworker, Cherise to help with her modeling portfolio--how cool is that?! Here are a few of my favorites. Speaking of beauties...

And now here's the new stuff

2010-09-25T11:37:00.001-07:00

These shots are from the Stenzel Healing Garden at Good Samaritan Hospital in NW Portland. I shoot a lot here because it's convenient as well as beautiful. I'm thinking of putting a small book together for patients who can't get outside. What do you think?

finishing up other stuff before getting to the new stuff

2010-09-25T11:28:00.001-07:00

I love poppies for their slutty bright colors, but even more for the seed pods they leave behind.

Not sure if it's my age, or just what is happening to me, but I simply adore dried-up grasses and dying blossoms, and could shoot and admire these natural deconstructions endlessly. Fall is coming.

grumpy nuns

2010-09-05T08:17:00.000-07:00

I can relate. Tending toward the grumpishness myself, nevertheless, it's a little inhibiting to live next door to so many of the disapproving old girls, emphatically closing their windows whenever my friends and I hold forth on my cozy little balcony on warm days and the occasional evening.

Okay, we cuss and some of my friends smoke. I can see how it could make the nuns uncomfortable. And maybe the day I shot a nude model reclining on the stovetop and the kitchen window was open for the light, could have been a bit startling if they were looking that direction, I guess.

But I'm consistently friendly, and until it became obvious even to me that my overtures were unwelcome, I'd wave from the window in daily morning greeting--as we tend to open the blinds nearly simultaneously. Our schedules are quite similar, it seems.

So yesterday when I was enthusiastically shooting the prolific curbside garden that the old girls planted and tend daily, and the perfect light was fading quickly, one of the crusty dears approached me briskly, demanding to know what I was taking pictures of--the lens was trained on the stone wall in front of their annex, so to capture the light on the dry, bare branches of an ancient, damned near dead, arborvitae.

I told her what I was shooting and she was nonplussed. I was taking pictures of the light on that ugly old bush? So I offered to show her what else I'd captured of the vivid cosmos, zinnias, hydrangea, etc. in the parking strip, and she skeptically watched me scroll though the images on my camera's LED. Unimpressed, she harrrumphed, and walked away suggesting that I try to shoot the dahlias instead. Yeah. The dahlias. How obvious.

and again with the flowers and gardens

2010-08-28T09:40:00.000-07:00

it's one of the things that makes me interesting

2010-08-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

I love to shoot portraits and nudes. Not necessarily at the same time.

roomies

2010-08-28T09:24:00.000-07:00

They've been so good all summer, barely a complaint about the heat or occasional irregularities in their meal schedule (I plead the fifth on that count), but the other day when I finally noticed that their water bottle was bone dry, they didn't even squeak an accusatory insult in my direction!

After refilling the bottle, I watched poor Trudy suck on that thing for a full five minutes, and I promised from now on to always check it before I leave for work in the morning. Sheesh.

go toward the light

2010-08-01T09:33:00.000-07:00

Spent yesterday morning in lovely rooms around Portland's eastside with a favorite companion who shares my enthusiasm for vintage sparklies--Miss J Purcell. Here are a few samples from the Sapphire Hotel, Bella Norte and Flutter.

our little berserker

2010-07-30T16:59:00.000-07:00

Just want to post this for posterity: Oscar is in town! Oh, and his parents came along too... More later.

anniversary: i got summer all over me

2010-07-18T11:41:00.000-07:00

I'm lucky enough to live in an affordable apartment at the edge of a very beautiful, established, residential neighborhood in NE Portland that was, I think, considered a near-rural suburb about a hundred years ago. Instead of suburban now, it's actually quite "close-in" to the river and downtown, and everything I need is within walking distance. Portland is a wonderful city for walkers, and I've managed to get along without owning a car fairly well for about eight years.

Today I took my morning walk down the welcoming, shady streets of Irvington with my one-eyed boyfriend, Canon Rebel XS, and together we captured over 40 intimate views within about 20 blocks. There is always something new to see here.

Despite the comfortable affluence of these old homes under the trees, it feels like a family-centered "village" of sorts, much friendlier and playful than the dramatic perfection of the NW hills across the river--where curtains remain drawn throughout the day, and a kind of chilly suspicion clouds the view.

I much prefer life on the eastside, where basic human warmth is generally expected and returned.

When I moved back to this neighborhood last summer after a two-year hiatus on the westside, I found that it IS possible come home again. And now that nearly a whole year has passed, it's more substantially my home than I may have ever known before.

strengths

2010-07-16T06:10:00.000-07:00

Since it has FINALLY stopped raining and summer has launched, the camera has asserted its authority over my attention. This week I walked to the hospital garden on my way home and then the next evening, I paused around neighborhood where I work. The light was perfect.

I love shooting flowers. My mom, the watercolorist, loved painting them,

and I have memories of her setting up still life bouquets that would stay in place for days until the blooms fell apart, scattering petals and pollen all over the dining room table. She never really had an appreciation for the beauty of decay, so as soon as the blossoms aged she seemed compelled to clear it all away. Also, we were rambunctious, clumsy children, so there was no hope that we'd be able to leave the arrangement--or her!--alone.

Things eventually fall apart. I have a painting of hers in my guest room. It was the last project before she died: an image of a single, unopened rosebud alongside a wide open blossom, spent but still lovely, petals falling. She never finished it, but it moves me in the way it seems to depict her acceptance of the inevitable.

experiment!

2010-07-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

Stimulating to make changes, isn't it? I think I love the new black background of this blog and just discovered that it's now possible to add pages, making the blog a little more like an actual website, I think. So I'm going to try to add more pages soon.

Anyway, I've just added a netbook to the arsenal of my communication weaponry, so am hoping that uploading photos and other media to this blog will be more easily (and quickly) accomplished.

Here are a couple of shots of the neighborhood around my office that I took while on a morning break the other day. I needed coffee (Stumptown) and a toasted pumpernickle bagel with scallion schmear, and had the impulse to bring my camera along. I love it when I do that!

This morning I spent quite awhile processing the shot of the white roses, playing with layers and effects. I think I have a crush on this photograph and might print and frame it this week.

And then I switched over to older family shots and found this one of my grandson, Oscar, from last January when he was so sick with the flu. Poor little guy was miserable, and later that day spent quite a few hours in the emergency room, rehydrating. Of course he recovered, and now is a strapping toddler of 18 months who waved and said "hi!" to me last week via Skype. I can't wait to see him in person soon.

Just want to say YAY!! and thank you to the techies who've made my recent upgrades possible.

Oh, let's talk

2010-06-20T20:20:00.000-07:00

I've been procrastinating about this blog again. Wondering if it's enough to post entries that become a kind of open letter to family and friends at a distance, rather than engaging my passion for creative expression on a more regular and open basis. The truth is I've been feeling a bit constrained about the subject matter I present here, always wary of offending others in some way, rather than simply throwing off my social inhibitions and posting my work in a way that honors my diverse interests, opinions, obsessions and enthusiasms, trying always to be honest but not hurtful.

There's a lot going on in my life! I have spent the past eight months adjusting to the reality and requirements of a new diagnosis of a painful chronic disease that must be managed if I'm going to continue to support myself independently. The limits on my stamina have become VERY evident and unavoidable, and this is new to me. It's hard not to feel resentful about not being spontaneous anymore, or at least able to stay up late like a grown-up once in awhile. I'm still fun, but just in a less ambitious way, I guess.

For example, here is a photo of me that my friend John Hogl took yesterday while we dropped in for a visit with the lovely and new Charley Ridenour:

And here are a couple of mine:

My motivation for photography never diminishes, it's just been frequently set aside this past year, while I spend time resting after work instead of taking photowalks or joining other photographers or poets as I once did so recently. I recognize the importance of taking care of myself, and it is the priority. I am slowly incorporating things like yoga and accupuncture more regularly into my life again, but I'm also beginning to try to find ways to get photography back into my life on a more frequent basis.

Two weeks ago I reorganized my apartment and created a studio space in my dining room, clearing the second bedroom out to become a comfortable guest room. Creating the studio and guest room and moving the dining table into the living room turned out to be an awesome way to make more room for my projects, and now I have room for visitors this summer as well. In fact, my niece Tegan stayed with me last week prior to moving into the dorms for summer school at Portland State University. I loved having her here, and caught her excitement for the move to Oregon and the start of her Russian studies. I'm so proud of her effort and it's been so great to reconnect with her mom--my younger sister--more often again.

I still write, but am now more of a diarist than a poet, although I'm continuing to work on the finishing touches of a book of my poetry that's coming out this fall. I have the cover art to arrange and shoot, dedication and acknowledgements, and also need to contact various authors and reviewers to send the galley to for blurbs. This is actually the fun part! Also I was recently contacted by "Quill & Parchment" for an anthology on motherhood they are publishing that will be using several of my poems, and a California lifestyle magazine, "Eucalyptus" is using one of my photos on their Table of Contents page for their July issue. Yay!

But I also feel that I want my photography to be taken more seriously--maybe I need to feel that I'M taking it more seriously! Anyway, my head fills up with visual ideas for shots I'd love to try, vignettes I want to set up, stories to tell visually and narratively, but the reality is the limitations on my energy, time and financial resources continually narrow the options. So I chafe.

Here is a fairly inoffensive shot of the model we worked with at Poverty Bay last month. I deliberately blew out the contrast on this shot reinforcing a quiet passivity that the self-contained posture of the model suggests:

Okay, so there it is. This is my life, these are my priorities, this is what fills up my head most of the time: family, friends, photography, ideas, images and observations all jumble around together along with favorite guilty pleasures like interior decorating tv shows and websites, literary fiction and movies, food and cooking, and wishing I had the time and money to do what I want when I want to do it. Oh, and also? I'm thinking it might be time to finally, really try to go back to graduate school. In my spare time. heh, heh.

I got rich at Poverty Bay

2010-05-30T08:20:00.001-07:00

Last weekend I Amtrakked to Tacoma to stay a few days with my friend and photog-buddy, John. We'd arranged to shoot a model and planned to take in Graham Nash's exhibit of his extensive collection of rock photographs at the Experience Music Project in Seattle. Needless to say, we had a great time, per always, and I tapped the richest photography vein I've had in years. Awesome fun.

I love Portland's Union Station. These two shots do not do it justice at all, and I'm planning to try to shoot it some evening when it's not crowded and I can take my time. Tacoma's Amtrak station is a cramped, soulless, afterthought of a building in a completely uninteresting part of town. The plantings around the parking lot are its most interesting feature. I got a great shot of a fly resting on an azalea (see Flickr slideshow at left).

But hanging at John's cottage on the bay at the edge of Des Moines, Washington was a perfect antidote for a month-long stress-fest covering two jobs at work (hiring a replacement for a coworker means I get to cram the extra tasks into my 40-hour week. It's a daily marathon and I get kinda tired... ). John collects antique toys and his beautiful home is a visual feast, inspiring and playful, casual and comfy .

This is the view from his front porch--the little sculpture is one of John's. Yes. He's multi-talented.

And here's what we did most of the time at the house: sit and watch the color of the sky and water change from the front window, listening to jazz. I got to slow w-a-a-a-a-y-y-y-y down.

Here's the other thing we did to amuse ourselves:

Saturday we shot a model, Katlyn, who was incredibly professional, lovely and bendy. John and I both did very good work and I'm really proud of the number of good shots I got. Often in the creative excitement and collaboration of a photo shoot, you can be positive you've gotten exactly what you wanted, but then afterward when reviewing the day's shots, you find that really it wasn't all that remarkable and end up with only a couple of images worth saving. Actually, that's what usually happens. Well, not this time. John and I both love to shoot figurative or nude images, so I can't show you much here of what we got, but here are a few I think might be safe enough for family viewing. I adored this girl and hope that we can work together again soon.

[I realize these are fairly pedestrian shots. Guess you'll have to trust me that the nudes are more artistic. Or check them out the next time you drop by my place. I'm kind of proud of being such an interesting grandma!]

The next day we drove up to Seattle early and walked around Pike Place Market, Post Alley and had a gorgeous breakfast at Maximillien's in the Market, before heading over to the EMP exhibit.

[Um, yeah. It's gum.]

This is at the entrance to Maximillien's. I'll spare you the usual food porn shot of my amazing breakfast. I had Oeuf Brouille de la Mer (Srsly. Lordy.) with cafe au lait. Actually I didn't take any pictures of the food. I was too busy doing other things with it.

EMP: Frank Gehry extravaganza.

Last shot. The EMP is covered in panels of reflective metal, tinted amazing colors. I'll be posting more shots from this trip to my Flickr pages and maybe to my Fotoblur account. And printing quite a few for the walls of my apartment!

on a lighter note

2010-05-17T21:14:00.000-07:00

Photos from a baby shower this weekend. Guess what? It's a girl: Charley.

Awwwwww.

Andrew MacArthur, 1955-2010

2010-05-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

What I wanted to say is that Andrew died. His suffering ended and now the poetry will change without him.

I have been reading about his illness and its impact on his friend, noko, in her online diary. Andrew cared for her, called her his best friend, appreciated her constant attention to his needs, her consistent accommodation to his requirements. Noko wrote of her experience of Andrew's illness, her suffering over his long exit, knowing it would be spring, and so it is, and now she is very alone with few friends and no children; so much of her life tied up with his.

Andrew didn't want to write about his illness, instead he focused entirely on his poetry and email correspondence with a suddenly ardent old flame, trusting noko to get the narrative right. And over the months of reading her online diary I've come to feel a kinship with her for loving someone so complicated; her years of devotion, her romantic love unrequited, but always valued and trusted by Andrew anyway. And I can relate. Finding myself identifying with her grief, I can't help anticipating inevitable losses of my own, a memento mori in kind.

When I started reading poems in Portland's open mic scene, Andrew was an encouraging presence who was steadfast in his generosity to less experienced poets. Though he largely quit attending the open mics a few years ago, he continued to write, of course, and maintained connections and friendships with several others who were still active in the scene.

I've looked through my endless files of photos of Portland poets and haven't come on a single shot of Andrew. I have portrait after portrait of poets whose tenure on the scene was so brief that I can barely recall their names, but not a single photo of the tall, soft-spoken gentleman in dark colors, smoking in the back.

renaissance muse

2010-04-28T05:26:00.000-07:00

I think I spelled that right--I've misspelled renaissance since I first encounted the word.

Isn't life rich with opportunities to alter your perceptions? When I first met Starlite Motel I dismissed her quickly as a flashy lightweight--which was an appalling mistake! As I have gotten to know her better over the past couple of years, she consistently impresses me with her acute intuition and generous wisdom. She is a bit flashy, with an enviable sense of rockin' personal style! But her substantial authenticity and depth reminds me of amythyst or even aquamarine: faceted and brilliant and beautiful. I'm loving this shot of her and her almost-here daughter.

therapy of the apartmental kind

2010-04-09T16:57:00.000-07:00

Last week I stumbled across the interior design/self-help book, "Apartment Therapy: the eight-step home cure", by Maxwell Gillingham-Ryan, at Powell's City of Books and it seemed to offer solutions all those perennially unaddressed issues with home decor that have followed me around from abode to abode all my adult life! So I bought it and began gobbling up its advice and instructions while still on the bus ride home. Turns out, there's an amazing website/blog of the same name. Check out ApartmentTherapy.com when you get a chance. It's incredibly stimulating!

Okay, I'm halfway through the first read and am jumping with ideas and fixes for my big, emptyish, too bright by half, bland, blah, beige apartment in NE Portland. When I mentioned the book to my friend Anna, she suggested that I could write about my process here on the blog. What a GOOD idea, Anna!

So, the first thing is that I'm going to finish actually reading the book through before launching into the eight, week-long steps, just so I'll know what to expect and how to plan, but am committed to launching my first week on Friday, April 16th, 2010. Whoohoo! I'm a little excited.

Here are a few photos of my current situation--I used a "watercolor" treatment on a couple of them just to try to make them look less stark. Ahem, I'm sure you see the problem...

another Sunday

2010-04-05T04:59:00.000-07:00

Grayson spent a few hours with me on Easter. We watched "Ponyo" together--a film we'd both wanted to see for quite awhile. And we snarfed Easter treats and had dinner together until his dad came to pick him up. He's such a good boy and I'm so lucky to have a fine relationship with him. We hid and found eggs around my apartment (Oregon. Rain. Typical.), took pictures of each other indoors and told terrible jokes. Equilibrium.

Sundays make you not want to have to go back to work tomorrow

2010-03-28T21:48:00.000-07:00

Lunch at the Pyramid Brewery after a productive shoot with model, Holly McCollum and photog-buddy, John Hogl, included steak salads for them, grilled chicken sandwich for me. Followed by this:

Do photographers have more fun, or what? Oh, and here's a sample from the day's "work":

We found an old, graffitti-ed up caboose and draped it with colorful sheers as props--and got lucky with the light and the weather.

just sayin'

2010-03-24T11:41:00.000-07:00

I live alone. I wake up alone with my dreams and unfinished conversations, and all the rest of the consequences of accumulating years. Every morning I pad out to the kitchen to brew coffee and then sit quietly in the dark window, watching the sky grow lighter, listening to the radio. This morning the routine shifted subtly as I listened instead to a haunting and graceful CD by cellist Zoe Keating. Since it's a workday, after an hour I had to shower and get ready, but music drifted softly through the rooms as I dressed and made my lunch, a tuna sandwich and an apple, and poured the rest of the coffee into a thermos. Locking the front door on my way to the bus, I often have a sense of disappointment that I'm not staying home, lengthening out the peace inside.

I envy women who have the ease of a satisfying marriage, the reliable company and interest of someone who matters, and most enviable of all, the added income from a second earner in the house! It's natural to get lonely when solitude is so reinforced. Silence is silence. Nothing filling the air but one-sided community from the television, internet or radio, but sometimes even that false offering is a relief. I have the frequent balm of friendships and meaningful work, my life is not bleak in the least! But solitude can become isolation quickly when you allow others' expectations of your self-sufficiency to rule your own priorities and beliefs, and don't give yourself permission to go slower, be kinder to yourself. I am learning this lesson daily.

What's really hard is filling all that quiet solitude with purpose, instead of collapsing at the end of a 10-hour workday (actually 12 hours, portal-to-portal) and letting the television dictate my attention until I'm barely awake enough to send myself to bed.

What's really hard is returning to my own thoughts and ideas--allowing them to recirculate to the surface of my conscious mind, and out through the ends of my fingers onto the page--when I'm exhausted and my hands are stiff.

What's really hard is doing it anyway. And you know what? I did it. My book is finished and now with the publishers. And I have another idea for a book, so my mornings will still be softly, personally my own private conversation with memory and music and ideas, dreaming images for my camera. And my evenings will be whatever I can make them. And sometimes that's really hard.

Pacific Daylight Savings Time

2010-03-15T05:03:00.000-07:00

It's a little bit hard to lose that hour. You don't want to let it go without acknowledging its loss, without marking the inconvenience of its passing. I did my best this weekend to savor what I could of the last, sweet indulgence of a solid hour that is going away too soon, and not returning for far too long. Thought about how much I love finding small corners of time to squander without guilt. Ah.

Took a walk to Whole Foods this weekend, through the upscale old neighborhood where I live vicariously on the fringey-edge. Found reminders that this is March, the month of transition from dark to light. My mother died in March thirty years ago, the age I am right now, and this year I am thinking of her almost constantly. I found daphne and bleeding hearts and lily of the valley, all small remembrances of an artist and gardener who loved spring and its vivid promise.

a modest sunrise, start again

2010-03-07T08:42:00.000-08:00

Grayson spent the night and is sound asleep on my sofa, a late start to the morning as he stayed up playing with his gameboy and reading comics long after I went to bed. I woke up near midnight and noticed the lamp was on, and when I went to turn it out--thinking he'd fallen asleep with it on, as I too often do!--he was still quite avidly engrossed in the illuminated gameboy. Sheesh.

Anyway, Friday morning I got up early and made it out the door at 6am to meet up with my friend Pat who wooshed us away up to Rocky Butte for a sunrise photo sesh. We had hopes for a dramatic capture since the clouds were clearing, but Mt. Hood remained shrouded throughout.

Here is the best I could do:

Buckman's Flying Circus

2010-03-06T08:38:00.000-08:00

I received a last minute invitation to attend the annual 2nd grader's circus at Buckman Elementary last Wednesday. All the second-graders at Buckman were featured! Unfortunately for my photographer's soul it was so crowded when I arrived (well ahead of the start time), I had to sit far back from the stage. But the nana in me got plenty of teary, throat-knotted "verklempt" moments watching the sweet, rambunctious innocence of all the clownfaced performers. Perfect.

an explanation, with pictures

2010-02-28T08:33:00.000-08:00

Since October, I've been ill or recovering from illness nearly every week. My immune system is worthless, and my mood has been pretty dark for months. I miss myself energetic and positive, but my motivation to get with-it is low. Posting entries to this blog or to Flickr has been postponed indefinitely while I try to get my act and priorities together. And maybe I've put off connecting here because of the way it reminds me of the creative passion that ignited me so recently, but that now seems quite far away from me. Poetry and photography are iffy at best right now, but I've been reading like a fiend and that feels like a step in the right direction, albeit another exercise in escape.

A few months ago, I agreed to be a mentor for a high school student's senior project in photography, and have made a couple of trips out with Emily since January. They have been fun and at least a little bit productive for me. I hope she feels the same way!

Yesterday we went to one of my favorite locations, a neglected pioneer cemetery in North Portland, to see what we could shoot. The weather cooperated for once, and although it was muddy, the morning was warm and the light was pretty good for interesting shots.

I love this little cemetery for the theatricality of its impressive decay--it looks as though a Hollywood set designer was turned loose for a few acres of horror flick excess. Most of the amateur photographers I know in Portland apparently prefer the old cemetery on SE Stark (Lone Pine? Is that right? I can't remember the name of the place), and don't seem to know about my forgotten old wonderland. It's my gorgeous little secret, and I feel very protective of its unique solitude in my very hip, competitive, and noisy city.

It's not far from Doc's house, and he was the one who first introduced me to the ghosts there, walking me dangerously alongside a well-trafficked street without sidewalks. Since then I've found a safer way to gain entry, and we have returned several times together to wander among the sinking graves. We once took Grayson for a picnic, then spent the summer afternoon--all three on separate missions--peacefully solitary, taking pictures and just looking at the way things fall apart. A perfect day.

There are many graves of children, as well as family plots, dating from the mid-to-late 19th century. Some are so decayed they are impossible to read. A few are quite recent; I spotted one yesterday from 2009. Some have mementos left behind, and even fresh bouquets appear occasionally. But every time I visit, even with friends, the place is quiet, and we are the only visitors.

I have brought models to shoot here as well, and had good luck with the light and privacy, capturing some interesting contrasts and textures. Everyone new who visits this place is impressed by its gentle, sad comfort. It was exactly what I needed yesterday after months of self-pity and isolation. Today, while the weather holds, I'm going for a long walk and will spend the afternoon with my pictures and putting the final touches on my poetry manuscript. I have a book coming out this year--by spring with any luck--and must finally get priorities and motivation to their proper places again.

rainyday suns and confined succulents

2010-01-18T05:33:00.000-08:00

Spent the weekend very close to home, taking pictures around NE Portland and even in my apartment (although I haven't processed those shots yet). Here are a couple of my favorites from a very productive weekend. My energy is beginning to return!

likenesses

2009-12-27T14:47:00.000-08:00

A few images from a bright, blissed-out morning at my house; family in black & white.

grandsons

2009-12-27T14:44:00.001-08:00

Double holiday happiness: Oscar & Grayson at Nana's house.

apertures

2009-12-13T13:01:00.000-08:00

Tree-hunting was a success on Friday, as was shopping for baby-visitor supplies (the Philly Phamily is coming for Christmas!), and much-needed bed linens suitable for the uber-cold weather we've been having. But the best news is the return of my repaired 50mm lens!! FINALLY, I can find an interesting depth of field and set my aperture for macros.

I experienced a terribly painful flare-up of rheumatoid arthritis on my 59th birthday last week. Um, yes... 59. It's a particularly significant birthday for me as it's the age my mother was when she died; her mother and her mother's mother died at 60. To be approaching the age that my foremothers' lives ended makes me feel simultaneously vulnerable, anxious and curious. And to have been given a fairly serious diagnosis at this age--my mother's diagnosis of ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease) was at 59--gives me a lot to think about at night when the world is silent.

I've wanted to write about this all week, but until today, moving my swollen wrist and hand over the keys was unthinkable--if not impossible. And I want to write about this experience with a degree of objectivity--as a way of documenting my life as a writer and photographer with a disabling illness. I don't want to sound pathetic or whiney, but I do want to be honest about my feelings. Aging sucks when you don't feel good.

What's important to me about the return of my 50mm lens, is the way it makes a greater artistic sense of the world more accessible to me. I love the flexibility this modest little prism provides my eye, and it is a perfect metaphor: keep your aperture wide to let in all the available light; find beauty and meaning in the small things.

finding light through the fog

2009-12-05T16:11:00.000-08:00

I've started a simple yoga series at night that is decreasing my stress load, and getting my long, brisk walk in everyday again has helped me sleep better and longer at night. Turns out, our immune systems do their work while we sleep. If we don't get enough sleep, the immune system doesn't get a chance to do it's best work. Sheesh. Where was I when this piece of information was being distributed?

As someone fairly practiced at burning my candle at both ends (with a little bit of extra melt in the middle), I'm amazed at the difference a couple of weeks worth of a solid nights' sleep can do. I've hated to miss a party and been the first one to arrive at poetry events and open mics all over town, and among the last to leave for years. Now I'm finding that I'm really enjoying the increased solitude, the chance to just slow down and set limits for myself--who knew??

Thursday I wrote a new poem. Today I left the apartment very early with the camera and braving black ice, shot pictures around the foggy, frosty neighborhood before anyone but the squirrels were out. It was silent and peaceful. Tomorrow I'm meeting Miss J for coffee at Petisco.

Three day weekends rock!

A Continuing List of My Best Stuff

2009-12-03T16:28:00.000-08:00

Creosote, sawdust, and charcoal,
campfire coffee,
morning light slanting in smoke
through evergreens;
the view from Lone Pine into the sudden hot
basin of the Southwestern Desert;
ice-plant spikes whipped against bare thigh,
the sunburn blaze of Mission Bay,
the furious wriggle of small stingrays underfoot;
losing my mother’s tourmaline ring
in the clipped grass of a neighbor’s endless lawn;
river pilots hopping freighters downstream
from the Astoria-Megler Bridge, storm or dry,
the same view in the fog, Washington disappearing
and reappearing, a ship run aground on the Columbia Bar;
Christmas shopping in the snow;
swimming naked at midnight in the neighbor’s pool
when they were away;
the sweet knock of intoxication with musicians;
sex on the beach near Yachats, or was it Reedsport
in the middle of the day, in sight of the road;
laddering sixteen feet into an apple tree
at five-thirty in the morning, picking fast;
standing-room only at my mother’s memorial;
silver rings with polished stones;
the nest of my children, and then theirs, burrowed in.

Black Friday, elsewhere

2009-11-28T06:28:00.000-08:00

I took a walk late yesterday afternoon to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. I brought the Canon XS with me, and got a few shots of the Irvington/Alameda neighborhood in NE Portland where I live. Didn't get much of a cardio workout, I'm afraid. Probably would be a good idea not to mix intentions when I head out, but at least I got some shots of this wonderfully quirky block.

tres chic!

2009-11-23T04:57:00.000-08:00

My friend, Miss J, well-known for her stylish elan and decorating skills, celebrated a milestone birthday recently with an elaborate dessert party at her house in NE Portland. Oh, Miss J. While the treats you made us were so delicious, and the Cherry Clofouti was to die for, my favorite part was your swim cap on the window, adding that extra touch of color. The night's tasty conversation was pretty fun too!

dis-order

2009-11-21T09:23:00.000-08:00

It's cold this morning, but I threw open the windows for some fresh air. After a few weeks of rain and chill, the apartment gets so stale and even confining. Fleece jacket over my pjs, mug of coffee on my right, I'm posting a few shots taken recently that I just like. For no particular reason, in no particular order. Feels better in here already.

a little exposition

2009-11-18T12:04:00.000-08:00

I want to write about what’s been happening to me, explain why I’ve not been as actively engaged with either my photography or the writing of poetry (or much of anything else, for that matter), and why my blog, so recently initiated, now languishes between each random and brief entry. And I hope this doesn't sound whiney or completely self-indulgent. It's true I live alone and don't always have a full perspective on what's happening to me, but it seemed appropriate to finally tell the truth about some of the stuff that's contributed to my silences.

For the past year-and-a-half, or so, I’ve noticed myself getting more and more easily fatigued with an exhaustion that never seems to resolve, while also sleeping far less because of physical discomfort, and an increasing stiffness that has not been helped by more stretching, yoga, freeweights or cardio workouts. (Lately I’ve been waking in the wee hours in excruciating pain, my wrists and knuckles swollen, inflamed and rigid. Rheumatoid arthritis is some serious shit, man. And so far, my meds are not really working, although time will tell.) That it’s taken so long to put a name on what I’ve been experiencing physically is not unusual, I guess, but can I just say that I feel a small element of vindication? I KNEW something was wrong. And I’m relieved that it’s not something much worse. I think.

Anyway, simultaneous to the onset of my physical challenges—somewhere around Christmas, 2007—my gorgeous, independent-minded daughter somehow slid into a dark descent and became a heroin addict, eventually homeless, and surrendered full custody of her only child to his father. No one close to her would have predicted such a dramatic reversal, although the signs were there in retrospect, and we were all simply, literally stunned by her change; bearing witness to my grandson's anguished confusion was just heartbreaking. Then, finally, last June my daughter began the return to sobriety, taking one carefully sober day at a time, as her family holds its collective breath. As the time passes, our sense of her dedication increases and admiration for her ongoing effort gathers strength. She spends time daily with her son, but otherwise maintains a strict silent distance from her brother and me. And I miss her. There is so much I wish I could say, so much I wish I could go back and change. I sit with my coffee, alone in the early morning before work, talking it out with her over and over in the silence, trying to make it right.

In August, the clumsiness resulting from slowly stiffening fingers may have caused me to drop my Canon XS, the D-SLR that has made photography my life’s passion and expanded creative horizons I never thought I could approach. Its strap caught on the lip of my desk and crashed so hard to the floor that the lens and autofocus became completely jammed and useless. And because I was moving to a new apartment, and then had other unplanned expenses in September, it was late October before I could get it in to be serviced. It's now mid-November and I still don’t have it back, although expect its return by the end of the month. Meanwhile, I’ve been making-do with a point-and-shoot that rather limits my options creatively.

To say that I’ve been depressed would be an understatement. Despair rides me daily, with occasional, intense infusions of pure elation and release that come in the shared moments with good friends and my beautiful, healthy, adventurous grandsons and their parents. The holidays are coming, my Philly family will be here for Christmas Eve, and I’m optimistic for time to take pictures and eat good food and just savor the company of people I love, who love me back. Sometimes when you wake up alone in the night and everything hurts, it’s enough to know they will return. Almost.

first, the good news...

2009-11-05T20:35:00.000-08:00

Here is the view from the exam table in my primary care provider's clinic, where I waited on Tuesday for her opinion of my (relatively) recent symptoms. I'd already diagnosed myself by checking online, so was curious to see if she agreed with my evaluation. Turns out, she did.

Turns out, the diagnostic labs confirmed it today: I am in the very early stages of rheumatoid arthritis. So no wonder I've been completely exhausted day and night, sleeping poorly and experiencing "flare ups" of swollen, very painfully inflamed wrists and shoulders.

We are waiting for my next flare up so she can aspirate some of the fluid and then begin the process of refining a regimen of medication and treatment. Crap.

Rheumatoid arthritis is an auto-immune disorder and is the kind of arthritis that causes severe bone deformity if left untreated. Fortunately, treatment regimens today are very effective at managing pain and inflammation, so I'm hopeful and optimistic that this diagnosis, while serious and chronic, will not take over my life. As a writer and photographer, I need my hands to work. Breathing deeply, this is just about as close to home as it gets.

All Hallow's Eve

2009-11-01T19:43:00.000-08:00

Celebrated All Hallow's Eve with poet friends who provided cheeses and bread for my hearty soup, apple galettes and spiced cider. And now I wish I'd brought out the camera before the party started, Miss J did such an excellent job on the decorations. But it turned out to be a great night for stimulating conversation, humor and gossip~and even a brief discourse on nucleotides~so I didn't even think of the camera until things were winding down.

rightness of place

2009-10-30T08:33:00.000-07:00

I'm loving my Friday mornings. Started working four 10-hr days in mid-September, and am now finally settling into a routine for the longer weekends. I "slept in" to about 6:30 today, made coffee and loaded the dishwasher while the coffee brewed; made the bed, tidied up the living room, and settled onto the sofa with my favorite mug 'o joe to listen to NPR and watch the light brighten outside my window. Contentment settles in.

Today I'm posting some photos of my new apartment. There is one corner with a view that satisfies some deep longing in me where I can stand for extended minutes, admiring the light coming through the windows, the mid-century style of the kitchen cabinets, and loving my great good fortune in finding my new home. I know that may seem ridiculous--the view is modest! But I am so happy here, and it seems I have been struggling to find peace for so long. Relief floods me when I walk through the door every night, and a positive perspective is restored. [Did I mention that 10-hour days are really long? And I walk home from work every night--about a 3 1/2 mile trek. So when I stagger through the door, I'm SO READY to be home!]

Anyway, isn't it funny how we can visit gorgeous, gracious homes, or see them on HGTV (oh, yes) decorated to a fair-thee-well for incredible quantities of money, and then look around our own unassuming nests and sense the rightness of place? The yearning for belonging to a place is one of my oldest emotions, something I can recall feeling from earliest memories. This new place comforts and challenges me creatively like I've not felt in a very long time. Here are a few little shots of my latest home, two have been post-processed with a watercolor effect, just because I thought it looked pretty.

mmmmmmm, beachy...

2009-10-28T05:53:00.000-07:00

My weekend at the coast with dear friend, Pat, resulted in a surfeit of beachy photos and the expected sunset shots (see slideshow). But here are a couple that signify that Closer to Home ethic I'm continually working out. Both were taken a few steps from the room that was our brief home in Lincoln City. 'Cause it's personal, you know?

Northrup farms

2009-10-26T05:43:00.001-07:00

My coworkers, Anna, Todd and Laurie, started a small urban garden on the balcony/fire escape of the building where we work in Northwest Portland. The harvest is just about over, but the view from the hall is pretty magical~kinda reminds me of the view to Oz.

sangria

2009-10-24T23:07:00.000-07:00

Petisco~Portugese for snack~is a comfortable and inviting bistro that opened in Irvington last winter. Only a few blocks from my apartment, I've passed it many times since moving back to the eastside. Looking for a light supper in the neighborhood the other night, I stopped at the menu displayed outside the entrance patio and decided to go in for a sandwich. And a sangria.

Oh, my. I may have stumbled upon a new extension to my living room. What a lovely place! The fare is excellent, tending toward sandwiches and appetizers but owner/chef, Michael MacFarlane expanded the menu recently to include weekend brunches and entrees for dinner service during the week. It's low-ceilinged ambience was so cozy, I felt right at home immediately. And the sangria is to die for. I have been back twice in less than a week, so probably should get my budget out and make some plans for a regular Petisco expense...

leafy

2009-10-20T05:06:00.000-07:00

NW 23rd Avenue is exploding with color, contrasting against the usual variations of charcoal sky so typical of October in the Pacific Northwest. I sit at my desk all day facing the computer monitor, away from the window, so when I get up to make a photocopy or check my mail, the views outside are jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Seriously. NEON.

This is the time of year I always wish my skills as a photographer were up to the challenge of capturing accurately what my eye is seeing. But then, maybe all photographers share that dream? Here are a few shots representative of what the lens has grabbed so far this month.

Necessary

2009-10-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday wasn't as rainy as predicted, so I got some time outside on my break while the sky was overcast and the light was gentle, and shot around the "healing garden" of the metropolitan hospital where I work. Here is the shot I like the best.

There have been daily updates on protocols for dealing with the H1N1 virus, aka: swine flu. So far so good in the ancillary unit I work for, but other teams are reporting frequent absences due to having to care for sick kids at home. We were scheduled for a mass, hospital-wide vaccination today, but it was cancelled two days ago because the supplies could not arrive in time. There is a pervasive sense of urgency about nearly everything these days. Taking the time to go outside and concentrate on taking pictures felt indulgent, but necessary, somehow.

Actually everything feels indulgent but necessary to me lately. Paying off old debts while planning for new ones means I'm trying to find a way to make friends with ambivalence, an old nemesis. A few years ago I left a job that paid fairly well, but was soul-crushing and thankless. I like my current job better, and though it pays less, I get a greater satisfaction from my supporting role in a compassion-driven (if non-revenue generating) unit of a large Portland hospital system.

Moving from a tiny, jammed NW Portland studio apartment to a spacious, mid-century, two-bedroom apartment in my favorite neighborhood in NE Portland last month also feels indulgent and simultaneously necessary. It means that I'm budgeting even more carefully now and paying off old debts will take a little longer, but ultimately worth the delay in gratification, I'm sure. Now I have plenty of room for myself, family and friends; room for photography, cooking, books, movies, and poet/artists to drop in, and a little bit of grace to make a mess if I want to.

Speaking of messes: this month, I forgot my daughter-in-law's birthday for probably the 10th time in the 11 years I've been privileged to know her. At this point, I'm sure it's all she expects, but it always makes me feel awful. I'm getting a card into the mail today, Rachel, and all my embarrassed apologies go along with it, of course. I simply could not have asked for a better wife for my son, mother to my grandchild(ren?), gorgeous, accomplished and compassionate friend, or consistently-forgiving daughter-in-law. I adore you, Rach. No ambivalence there.

Meet the Neighbors

2009-10-11T14:19:00.000-07:00

This morning I got up early to catch the light and wandered around for about an hour in the quiet outside, capturing the October harvests of my urban farmer neighbors. There were also some very arresting late dahlias and a single, gorgeous, aging rose.

To Start With

2009-10-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

I’ve mentioned several times to friends and in my other blog, Shots from the Curb, that I've been re-thinking my approach to blogging, and especially since my move back to NE Portland (all the way from NW Portland), I’ve wanted to center my writing and photography on more personal, even intimate subjects. Particularly appealing to me is the idea of featuring whatever catches my eye and imagination in the Portland neighborhoods I frequent.

Portland has a rich variety of distinct neighborhoods, apart from being a beautiful city to begin with, and so much of the Pacific Northwest is dramatically photogenic. Also, I’m a native to the dark, rainforested mists of the northwest and am deeply rooted here in Oregon. I’ve begun to want to express those aspects of my own nature influenced by belonging to this place. I love Portland. I love living here, love what the city offers to my creative impulses, and love my crazy collage of an extended family.

As a writer and reader I’ve noticed that the more specific the details of a story—even when far from my own experience—the more delight I have in recognition of shared perceptions. This blog has become my invitation to you to find those common elements we share while getting Closer to Home.