Brushing off the Dust...

It has literally been years. I know.
Like as in - since 2013 - years.

I've been busy.

Until I happened to get an old blog post reminder on Facebook, which led me back to my abandoned and dilapidated blog (if it were an actual building it would probably be filled with webs and critters and ooze with a smell of musty dampness... Luckily, that's not the case). No, it's just been parked in blogosphere purgatory waiting patiently for my impending return.

And then it happened. I returned. I took a look around, riffled through posts, read a few things here and there, checked in on other blogs, cleaned up some broken links; and, like that, before I even fully blew off the dust and whipped open the virtual curtains to let the fresh air in,  I published an old draft post. No, not this one.

And this post?
Well it was also a draft I had started more than a couple years ago with a name and one sentence, I'm sure there were some additional thoughts in mind. albeit long since gone. As all it said was:

"I have a slue of blog drafts" 
And it's true. I do.

Most of which are empty pages, started with intent but never fully formed to fruition. It's time to go in and clean those up, delete them. Make room for something new.  Lucky for me, my list of blog posts don't look near as stuffed as my filing cabinet, so it's easy to clean up and "make room'.

However, for me, I think it's about making room in my head more than anything...  Returning here to where I documented the process of birthing my creative soul 10 years ago which eventually morphed into a business, something I had never imagined for myself - ever. .

Starting a business has been rewarding and stressful, there have been life changes, growth and deep  self dicoveries; and through all of it, over time...a waning of creative spirit. 
Burn Out.

So what does one do?
Reset.

That is as best one can in the middle of a swift, ever-changing, perpetually moving tide.

I'm hitting the resest button.
This is my call to action for myself. The setting of my intention.
To write once again, to release, to reconnect, to create...

To once again marry words and pictures. 

So here's to dusting off the blog and seeing what comes of it.

Game On! 

When Past and Present Collide | Photo Story Friday

When I was 10 years old my mother sent me, on my own, from South Dakota to California to visit my paternal grandmother for a month.  I often joke about my experiences during that time, comparing them to the Griswold’s adventures from National Lampoon’s Summer Vacation.  We visited several Southern California landmarks without ever going IN them – including Knott’s Berry Farm. 

However, there were several places we did visit , some of which no longer exist, like Lion Country Safari and Marineland of the Pacific. One of our excursions that held a fond place in my memories over the years is the Los Angeles Arboretum. I never forgot the gorgeous house that I wanted to go inside of or the placards along different paths depicting where the first Tarzan movie was made as well as other classic movies, I was fascinated with the history of it all.

Within a year after visiting the Aboretum a new TV show aired featuring the Queen Anne house in it’s opening sequence – the show was Fantasy Island.  I loved that show, and more so, I was THRILLED that I had been to that very house!

Yup, that’s me, the skinny kid in the lime-green shirt and pigtails.   And the little tiny thing I’m looking down at in the picture? {who was quite cute}… the bane of my existence for four weeks.  She was five years old and got into all kinds of mischief, I was 10 years old and was constantly being blamed for said mischief.

Crazy, to this day I clearly remember getting in trouble for squashing berry-type pods that had fallen from the trees and lay on the path where we walked. She stomped on them over and over and somehow I took the fall for it.  I was impassioned with the injustice of it all, “she’s only five - she isn’t stomping on all those berries, let alone on purpose”. WHAT!?!      Oh, she was good…

And so. 37 years after my first visit, 26 years of living in Los Angeles, I finally returned – with The Boy willingly in tow.  All I kept asking myself was, “Why did I wait so long to return?”  It is truly a beautiful, peaceful place to wander through; and although place-markers denoting where various classic movie moments were filmed are all but gone now, it still felt like stepping back in time - for me – if only briefly. 

As we walked through the welcome building and into the gardens, I felt that little girl in me twitch as a wave a familiarity washed over me, a taste of the past welled up in my mouth. Like a tide that suddenly rushes in, then receding as fast as it had appeared; 1976 and 2013 intertwined. 

I am always amazed when my past memories bubble to the surface and collide with my present, I can feel it – like a Sci-fi movie, all I have to do is take a step to the left and I would find myself staring the 10-year-old me in the face, surrounded by family members long since gone. 

However, that wave passes quickly and I am here standing with my eight-year-old boy who taking in the whole experience with a calm joy. He comments, “It’s so quiet and peaceful here, I’m jealous of the people who live here!” As we listened to the birds singing and crickets chirping; the two of us were in heaven.

Toward the end of our stay, as Harrison ran ahead of me on the paved path, I briefly glanced down and noticed a couple berry-type pods laying on the road; I smiled… and STOMPED on them!

On Purpose!

Life is good.

 

Hosted by Cecily and Lolli

Redondo Beach Portrait Photographer | The Value of the Printed Image

I have a storage bin of old family albums and pictures. Sound familiar? That's not including the miscellaneous albums from my teens, young adult life and right up into my early years of marriage.

And then the digital age hit. Now I have external hard drives with tons of personal pictures living on them. They may not get dusty but no one can enjoy them if I don't take the time to post them on social media or through blogging (which doesn't always happen).

The value of those hundreds of images in that storage bin are truly priceless to me because for the most part, they are the tangible memories of the people no longer physically here with me in my life. I pull out pictures from my past on a regular basis. I've put them in frames on my walls, scanned them, posted them on Facebook and in blogs.

In the face of a disaster, I would go for that bin.

So why am I telling you this? I realize that I am not alone in my dislike for being in front of the camera. As a photographer, I have conversations regularly with moms  about how they view themselves in pictures; they feel they look fat, they hate their arms, their nose, their sagging eyelids, their crooked teeth, the list goes on and on. I hate pictures of myself for the so many of those reasons, too.

But my son doesn't.

Let me repeat that again, my son doesn’t hate how I look in pictures.

When I was putting together my wedding and wanting to honor my mother and grandmother, who had each passed away in the years and months before the ceremony, I realized that I had very few pictures of the two of them together and even fewer of the three of us and I only had one portrait of me and my mom together.

One.

And it was one of those horrible 1980's studio portraits taken during my "awkward" years when the Farrah Fawcett flip was all the rage.          

     

  

But I will NEVER get rid of it.

 

Then I had an epiphany one day recently. I haven't had a decent family portrait done since before my son was born! And I'm a photographer! Plus, the last {non-snapshot} picture of him and I together was over four years ago when he was still technically a toddler. He's in second grade now.

Guess what? My son doesn't care what I look like in pictures, he just wants pictures of us together because simply loves me.

In truth, the pictures we take with our children and families right now really are not for ourselves, they are for our children, their children and their children's children.

I'm not going to wait until I lose more weight or have a the perfect haircut before I get into pictures with my child, I'm going to take advantage of every time I can be in front of the camera with him and then I'm going to make sure they are printed in some format, because some day I'll be gone and I want him to have those images, see the happy moments we captured together, smile with joyful memories.

{This is our “group hug” we took this shortly after I wrote this post – a special family moment I didn't want to miss documenting.}

I'm starting to move digital images from the past four years into printed photo books. I have enough images to make an album per year. It's probably going to take some time as I work on it in my free time, but well worth it.

I believe making pictures has always been about printing, displaying and cherishing tangible art as well as capturing our lives to remember.

Posting images on social media is a bonus in today's age - but should not become the end all. Images are meant to be shared, on walls, in albums, through cards... What ever it is, make the pictures you have taken and stored on hard drives, CD's or flash drives concrete beyond the confines of the monitor, cell or tablet.

Our pictures tell our story.

Share your story, give your future generations something palpable, something they can hold, touch, consider and imagine what you were like during this time in your lives.

So forget about the extra 20 pounds or thinning hairline, get into the pictures with your children and then display those pictures on walls, tabletop frames or coffee table books. Just do it.

{A family “self portrait” set up and taken by Harrison with the self timer – do I love how I look? Heck no! does the Boy love this picture? Oh yes! }

 

You will never regret it and neither will your children.

perfect.

 

Monday I dropped everything. Everything I needed to do and everything I thought I needed to do. 

It was Labor Day and we were at home with no concrete plans to go out.  I had pondered a trip to the Zoo or to the Natural History Museum, but honestly I didn’t want to venture  inland to the heat of the city.  And anyway, I had a list a mile long to accomplish – a house to clean, laundry to do, business to take care of and I won’t even go into how Harrison had schlepped almost the entire contents of his room to the living room to build a Lego universe.  {Yes. A Universe.}

Then I got a text, “We’re meeting at the park, want to join us?”
Why, YES!

Yes, I do!!

I dropped everything because more than anything, we needed social time - outside.  As I left the house I thought to grab my camera and chose to leave it behind.  After all, I let the Project 365 die once again.  (plants and daily 365 projects – they don’t flourish well in my hands…)

Now I wish I had that camera, just to snap a few pictures of our day, our kids… Us. 

It wasn’t anything special, it was just four hours in a park with moms and kids.  Our kids played together, rode bikes & scooters, ran around senseless, hung out and we sat under the shade of a big tree on big picnic blankets in the late summer breeze talking, laughing, relaxing.

We were privileged to have lunch together compliments of one of the husbands.  Pizza, chicken tenders, cheezy bread and ice-cold water.  Perfect meal to share in the park.

There was nothing special – just the satisfaction of having girlfriends – even the busy moms that we are. 
The joy of sitting in the shade of that tree, feeling the breeze, enjoying the blue sky peppered with fluffy-white clouds in the distance. 
The gratification of listening to our happy kids playing nearby and hysterically looking around at our kid’s shoes, scooters, helmets, bikes, snacks strewn all about us in the grass.

And knowing that at least for those four hours it was a Perfect day.

 

(And because every post needs a picture, one random picture  from another perfect day this summer when my older brother came out for a visit.)

Sunday Self #15

I started this post months ago, before I went Blog MIA.   The last time I actually blogged was back in April and it was a Sunday Self, how appropriate that the first post since then is another Sunday Self.  And I think I can honestly say that this image is as poignant now as the day I looked at it’s imperfection on the back of my camera. 

Even though technically the focal point shifted (most likely I moved) and the picture above is just an incorrectly focused image, I saw more to it.  I realized how my own view of myself has gotten blurred. How I don’t see myself the way that God sees me, “the unfading beauty” of my inner self.  How I let my self-criticism distort my vision, how I couldn’t see myself clearly.  

I had a lot more to say about it all those months ago. When it was fresh in my mind. 

What I did (and continue to) do really, is to reset my thinking, to love and embrace who I am right now.  Inside and OUT.  I’ve struggled with pictures of myself for the last two years – I am as critical as the next woman – all I can see is that droopy eyelid that changes my face, those puffy circles under my eyes, that spot of white hair in my eyebrow… and the twenty pounds I need to lose.  (All I can see.)

The thing is, we need to see that inward beauty in a physical manifestation from time to time.  Sometimes we need to FEEL and BE pampered. There is nothing more relaxing (to most women) then going to the spa, having manicures or pedicures (the later I’ve never experienced) or getting our hair and/or makeup done.  When we look in the mirror and feel good about what we see, we walk a little smarter, there’s a kick in our step and our inner beauty spills out all that much more.  And when we feel good, those around us feel good. 

I’ve slowly been working on a project with a friend and one day we made some images of ourselves.  I stared and stared at the images of me. Not sure what I felt, if I liked them or not. There is nothing wrong with it in fact, it’s one of the best pictures I’ve ever had taken of me.  That’s when I realized that how I view myself was skewed.  I’ve talked to so many other women who see themselves in the same way – all their outwardly, physical shortcomings. Photographing children and families it comes up over and over again with the moms.  We are so hard on ourselves as women – especially here in Southern California. The pressure to stay looking young and perfectly fit is oppressive.

I don’t want to wait until the perfect weight or whiter teeth or what ever the excuse may be to have pictures of me with my husband or son.  Life is too short.  But I do want women to see themselves how I see them in my lens - beautiful.  More than once I have been taken aback by someone who’s picture I captured.  The beauty that shines through their eyes.  Only recently a 60+ woman took off her glasses for her portrait with me; I’d never seen her without her glasses in the seven years I’ve known her and I was blown away.  She is beautiful!  I couldn’t even hide my response  when those glasses went down out of camera range and when she saw in me that positive reaction, she glowed even more. 

Those are the portraits I want to make. The moments I want to capture. The reason I love being a photographer in the first place.
Because the life that God gave to each of us is Beautiful.

Happy Labor Day!

Crafty Tuesday

I LOVE Anthropologie.

Love it.
Although I can’t go in and buy every single thing I see in the store,
just walking through and browsing is {happy-dance} relaxing to my senses.

The smell.

The texture.

The décor.

It does it for me (and I know I’m not alone).

Which brings me to my circa 1970’s condo which has no interesting history and leaves me feeling uninspired - but I have a great fireplace that works – I love that! However, fireplace mantles have always been a bit of a challenge for me and then I was motivated by a post from a Facebook friend and a couple blogs I happened upon all within a 12 hour period of time. 

One day later I had my own Anthropologie inspired wall.

I used clip earrings from the collection I inherited from my mom. They get to sparkle with a new, repurposed life!

I used old sheet music for the carnation shaped flowers because I just couldn’t bring myself to tear out pages from ANY of my vintage books I have laying around. 

As proud as I was of my new decorations, I didn’t say a word to the Guy-I-Dig. I wanted to see his reaction… Ironically, even though the fire place is the first thing you see when you walk into our living area, he didn’t notice for two full days.

He even set down and picked up his glasses from the mantle.

Three days later, as I sat at the table working with Harrison on something, I glanced up to see him looking intently at the wall above the fire place, “How long has this been here?”

“All weekend.”

He laughed, “DOH!”

I love my husband.
…and he gave the wall décor his two thumbs up.

“Great. Now I have guilt!”

I love Toy Story, don’t you? And Rex is the best… well, I love all the main characters. Although Harrison gave his Mr. Potato Head away because he said Mr. Potato Head has bad behavior and isn’t always nice.
As usual, I digress.
Back to my guilt.
Last week I started Harrison’s valentines for his class. I planned to get Trader Joe’s Organic Lollipops, but I was rushing and happened to be at Target where I spotted some heart-shaped lollipops on the cheap.
On the cheap.
Translation: filled with high fructose corn syrups and, more so, several artificial colors and preservatives that I can’t announce and would never endorse.  Plus there was my internal voice saying “WHAT?!!!”, that I was ignoring with a figurative hands-over-the-ears-saying “la-la-la-la… I can’t hear you!!” motion. (I learned that from a college boyfriend who did that to me once – literally. [WHAT?!] But that’s another story.)
Anyway, I bought them and moved on.

Then, earlier this week, I was reminded about the evils of food dyes when I posted an article about the subject on my Facebook wall. That’s when I felt it, I looked at that pile of valentine cards with a shoulder-slumping sigh of defeat. That was not what I planned, heart-shaped or not, I can’t in good conscious give a candy to another child that I wouldn’t give to my own. (Even though I let Harrison try one – DOH! Maybe that’s why he was hyper the other night.)
Food coloring dye. Maybe you have heard of Red #40 and are familiar with the studies on the effect of [petroleum based] food dyes on children’s behavior, especially children with ADHD. I first heard about the effects of red#40 from a friend while at Disneyland in 2008, she asked me, “Do you notice a difference in Harrison’s behavior when he consumes food with red#40?” “No”, I answered. She responded by telling methat it’s in everything including Kraft Mac and Cheese. I thought for a moment and realized I hadn’t bought Kraft Mac&Cheese for some time. I went home that night and looked through my cabinets and I discovered I no longer buy most name brand packaged foods.  […reason why I suck at collecting those silly Box Tops.]
Fast forward to today and the ongoing war against food dye, while the FDA has recently concluded that there is not enough evidence to link food dye with hyperactivity and voted not to add warning labels to ingredients, others beg to differ including the CSPI.  Even the UK removed artificial dyes from the food beginning as early as 2008.
Consider this from the CSPI:

On my Facebook page alone, a friend brought up that her son is allergic to all synthetic food dyes, which is in EVERYTHING from our food (including fresh fruit) to our clothing. I’ve heard stories from friends about the change in behavior they observed when they cut out the artificial colors and preservatives from their child’s diet.  But my other concern is that most of these dyes are more carcinogenic than once thought to be.  Why do we continue to fill our bodies with petroleum based preservatives? It doesn’t even sound appealing! 
And I’m not even going to start on High Fructose Corn Syrup, that’s another entire can of worms.
But think about this – HFCS and food coloring started to be used in mass in the 1970’s, less than two decades we began to see a shift in the health and weight of our children and now we are in an obesity epidemic.
Just to keep it real, I am not perfect and I’m not a food Nazi either. We do consume HTCS and food colors when were out and about it can’t always be avoided, but I don’t buy products with those ingredients. It’s one of my baby steps to better eating along with better planning and fresh ingredients.
So when Harrison takes his completed Valentines cards with a little treat attached to school next week, I will  have no guilt. 
Next to a home baked goodie, it’s a treat that a mom can be proud of giving.
Okay, I’m pushing now.

But even a 1st Grader can pronounce every ingredient on this lollipop label.

“They had me at Fresh” Part II

I finally came clean about my passive relationship with the kitchen and how that all changed back in September. 

Looking back, here’s a few things I discovered after only one month of pre-planned meals:

• I REALLY am a messy cook .
• My fridge is  chuck-full of fresh, unspoiled vegetables, herbs and fruits for the first time in… EVER.
• Electric burners really do have more than two settings {HIGH and LOW}.
  Who knew cooking over MEDIUM  heat would do wonders in saving my food AND pans.
• I can make food fly.
• I can still burn a decent sauce even over medium heat .
• I can MAKE a decent sauce.
• That REALLY BIG knife in the block {that I rarely used} is NOT just for psychopaths in horror flicks – it’s FREAKIN’ AWESOME!
• I ♥ kitchen gadgets
• Fennel!
• For the first time in my life, I have made dressings, lasagna, chicken dumpling soup, beef stew and alfredo sauce - from scratch.
• COOKING FROM SCRATCH – GET OUT!
• I still don’t like brussel sprouts, period.
• On any given evening my kitchen is an even balance of Ratatouille
  

  tasting fireworks
• and Julie & Julie
  
• I want NEED more BIG, sharp knives! Bwahaha!!
• How have I lived without a salad spinner this long? 
• Apparently three sets of measuring spoons are not enough for me. 
• blanching – who knew?! I love fresh meat and fish wrapped in brown paper
  
• I have  never chopped so many onions in all my life.
• I make soup from scratch!
• Okay, maybe I like brussel sprouts – a little bit –  roasted in the oven with Sea Salt and Olive Oil.
  I know I like how they come on a stalk...
  
• And Above All – I REALLY need an apron before I ruin all my clothes!! (told ya I was messy)

 

Seriously though, we are eating better, fresher less processed foods and Harrison tries everything put in front of him.

That’s what really counts in the end.

Break Down and Moving Forward

Hard to believe it’s 2012. 2011 flew by and I realized that I posted (cough-cough) a mere 20 times last year.

Twenty times. Wow. 

Honestly, when I took my business to a new level and blogging became about building business, I lost a creative drive to blog. I froze up didn’t want to suddenly sound superficial in my posts. Each and every client last year still brings me joy every time I look at their images, for so many different reasons; and somehow I felt I couldn’t properly and authentically express this.

I see so much in their faces – Beauty blossoms before my eyes, out of the brief moments with them when I’ve captured them living… getting married, becoming a Bar Mitzvah, renewing vows, tightly hugging each other, laughing together, embracing new life, rejoicing in generations being together.  Thank you for trusting me to capture those memories with you all, I am more honored than you can possibly imagine.
And I Still plan to share some here as I begin to pick up my virtual pen once again - if only for my own fulfillment.

On a personal level, our little family experienced a lot of bumps along the way last year. Bumps that we pushed through – if only by the Grace of God. And I can now see in retrospect that over the last two years I  slowly lost my “voice”.  Stress and fear tried often to rule my thoughts and actions; and I confess, sometimes I let them win.

Somewhere I broke-down. Not physically, not consciously and I didn’t realize this fact until this last Sunday while sitting in church. My pastor shared a video about a Olympic athletic hopeful, Derek Redmond, who tore his hamstring during a semi-final but got up, insisting on finishing the race – ultimately with the help of his father.  I was left in tears at his, agony, disappointment, strength and courage.

So there I was, realizing my creative and spiritual break down, however that’s all it was.   A break... separation, fracture, crack, divide. 
No drama-worthy One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest or Girl Interrupted moments, I came to a stop.
 Just a season that, too, will pass.

Along that vein - for the first time in three years, 2012 came in like a quiet Lamb. No illnesses at all. No flus, colds, sinus infections or pneumonia to join us inringing in the New Year. We are looking to 2012 with renewed strength, health and hope (Romans 12:2). There will be new challenges that stretch us; but that’s okay – we’re moving forward anyway.

We can never see where the road leads, still…



We’ll always move forward. 


Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,  fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.
Hebrews 12:1-2

They had me at “Fresh”

On our wedding day, I had promised the Guy-I-Dig that I would learn to cook – it was written down on the little index card that was clutched tightly in my joyfully, nervous hand – my vows {in addition to  traditional vows} that I read to him like a laundry list: I promise to always cheer for Florida State, I promise to laugh at all your jokes, I promise to learn to cook for you...
At that moment I think I heard a chuckle rise in unison from those sitting in the church who knew me too well, as if saying , “yeah, like that will ever happen”.

But let me clarify, I really did KNOW how to cook.

For the most part.

My mother was a great cook and had taught me a thing or two in the kitchen,  my brother is also a self-trained chef and I picked up some tips from him along the way.  And I love cooking.

Until I HATE it.

So skip ahead a decade from that day to four weeks ago today.  I came home from a long day at the office - tired, with no plan for dinner, no back-up… and NOTHING in the freezer to fall back on in a pinch.  An all too-common phenomenon in recent months.

I was in a bad way. 

I served up a nice heaping on the self-loathing, guilt and shame for myself; but that doesn’t feed the  family.  Although a quick trip to Del Taco by the hubby did.  {But let’s NOT go there.}

You see, I  STINK at meal planning…  and forget it if I don’t have a recipe in front of me for anything other then spaghetti!  I’m a rules girl – give me EXACT measurements, please!

So as I sat down and got online that Friday evening, over-stuffed from Del Taco burritos  - I stumbled onto a blog, that led me to another blog that led me to a website that moved me to a different website and that’s when I discovered it…  The Fresh 20. [insert angels singing here]


I really wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said the Fresh 20 saved my life! (Okay maybe just a little… but not much.)
I had checked out other meal planning services in the past, but they just didn’t capture me. I either didn’t want to pay the large  fee or I didn’t like the how the planning was laid out.  Then I would forget about the whole idea of pre-planning meals for the week and continue my fantasy of winning the lottery and paying a person to cook dinner every night.

But let me tell you when I got to this website, they had me at Fresh. It’s a clean, inviting website with pictures of beautiful food in the home page. [I LOVE pictures of beautiful food!] They offer Classic plans, Gluten Free and Vegetarian Meal plans. I love the convenience of the shopping list that breaks down the items by what day they are used and an estimated price. The menu page includes a prep guide that can be done ahead of time and then the recipes for 5 days.  All this for a great LOW price! Best of all, REAL ingredients, REAL food, no short cuts.

I had been CRAVING, I mean CRAVING!,  more vegetables in our {my} diet. We had become so sloppy in recent months with our eating – not UN-healthy,  just not healthy enough.  And with the exception of an occasional roasted asparagus, vegetables had been reduced frozen green beans or corn. 

We have moved into our fourth week of planned dinners, the Guy-I-Dig darts into the kitchen excitedly asking, “what’s for dinner tonight!?” Harrison has tasted everything, complained less and eaten more plus I have been completely stressed-free in the kitchen, even enjoying the process of  shopping for and preparing my fresh ingredients for dinner.

In fact,
I think I LOVE cooking!{again}




























Hosted by Cecily and Lolli