b.p.e.

Not many years ago when I saw a dog owner cooing to her little ball of fur, I put the incident in my mental "ridiculous" file, without any hesitation, but that was b.p.e. or the not so commonly known as "before Phoebe era". Now when I glimpse moments like that, I smile indulgently as one parent would to another. I can't imagine what life would be like without Phoebe, she really is like another child.

I found her photo one night on the CAWS website, a local shelter. I had been quite ill and I was looking for a dog that would be a good companion for my son who was in Kindergarten. Some body to make up for the fact that I spent large portions of my afternoons in bed. Puppet shows, stories of knights long ago, and Lego creations only go so far with a five year old. As I read her info, I thought, "Phoebe? Who names a dog Phoebe?" The name seemed altogether too human. Out of curiosity, I looked up her name to see what it meant. The name is of Greek origin and means bright light. Our cat, also from CAWS, had the same coloring and also had a Greek name, Demetrius. Same shelter, same coloring, Greek names, were they siblings in a past life? I was convinced she was for us. She was much larger than I had envisioned her to be and as part terrier, she was guaranteed to shed more than any other breed. It took two home visits for us to be approved.

The day we brought her home, my son draped her in a Superman cape and shut himself and Phoebe up in his room, much to Phoebe’s consternation. She initially wasn’t particularly interested in the children, but they didn’t seem to mind. They were thrilled to be official pet owners. The novelty of ownership wore off and soon it wasn’t of question of who owned who, but who belonged with who, and she belonged with us. Having her home was like a long wait that was finally over.
My husband, who never wanted a dog in the first place, is the one who always brings her treats, takes her at the height of her shedding in the car, and insists she accompany him for long night runs. Despite this obvious favoritism, it's really with me that she has the strongest bond. The jingle-jangle of her collar and feet pattering on the hardwood have become a part of my daily rhythm, keeping me company when everyone but us has left for the day. At thirteen, she still looks like a puppy. She was very patient for this photo shoot.

Beauty!

The first time I saw this beauty, she took my breath away, literally. I shot this there in her home in her blessing dress. It reminds me think of those photos from the 20's and 30's era; a picture my grandmother would have been in.

Top Picks

You remember those warm summer evenings of youth when you gathered with the neighborhood kids and divided up to pick teams for kick the can? It was a time of decision or anticipation. In life, it being the ultimate game some would say, we sometimes get choices for team mates and sometimes we don't. Fate favored me with some of the top draft picks.

I can not help but totally crack up every time I see this picture. My niece was wearing her "Groundhog hat" from Kindergarten while snacking on a cheese stick.

And of course, if I take a picture of my niece, my nephew fully expects he'll be needed as a model as well.

And if I post a picture of my niece and newphew, my son is on the computer looking for his. One thing you'll miss on seeing this picture this size is the fine layer of dirt that covered him when he arrived home from scout camp. I think filth was a part of one of his badge requirements.

This is my daughter wearing the hat I got for her last year in Santa Fe. She wore it everywhere this summer (she even tried wearing it to church). It doesn't get as much use during the winter months but she still manages to find occassions which she thinks are suitable for wearing it.

Passion Project

Here are some recent shots from a shoot that I did. Aren't these ladies lovely? Mikell was generous enough to let me take some pictures of her and her daughter for an ongoing project that I'm doing exploring the pursuit of passion. Of course, her other daughter was too irresistible not to take a picture of as well.

Come to Jesus

I find myself staring at the screen of my computer not being able to think of a single thing to say...no...nothing... I can hear my mother's voice in the background,

"Not a single thing to say? How utterly amazing."

Being new to the blogging arena, it seems daunting to think I can just write whatever I want and post it for the whole world to see. The effect is somewhat unsettling and I feel perhaps a little brazen with myself. What do I have to say? What do I know of blogs? Almost nothing, except I did find a very handy trick to unclog a toilet on one. At any rate, I am beginning this blog as a means to share some of my photography with my friends and family. I hope it will also to keep me shooting and pursuing my personal work.

Of all the pictures I've taken over the last few years, I'm choosing to post one that I took while I was in Santa Fe this summer while attending a workshop. A classmate and I had seen a tattoo parlor downtown that had fabulous funky lighting and we headed there one night after a presentation to ask if we could take some photos. The owner was very generous and accommodating and we spent a number of hours there chatting and experimenting with our camera equipment. As we packed up and were leaving a young man (I think of him as young, he was in his twenties perhaps) approached me with his hand open and arm extended and asked, "Don't you want to take a picture of my Jesus?". He speech was not entirely clear, but his intent was obviously sincere. "Absolutely" was my reply. I took two shots as he was, with his arm outstretched to show me his tattoo.

It wasn't until much later that I noticed the similarities between the tattoo and the face of the man himself. The man whose life I seek to emulate was embodied on the arm and in the face of a stranger that I met at a tattoo parlor at one o'clock in the morning on the wrong side of town. The irony of the situation still makes me smile. If somebody told me, "Hey go down to the tattoo joint and you'll get a glimpse of Jesus". I wouldn't have believed him, but I tell you, looking at this picture, I felt for a moment I actually did.