Democracy In Action

October 10, on our 2. day of early voting 

I was the 1,000th early voter 

at our downtown location. 

Santa Fe county had 35,000 early voters, 1/3.

While 4 years ago I voted FOR Obama, 

this year I voted AGAINST Romney.

November 6th, Election day, I needed to get up at 4 am to present myself promptly in my position as Election Judge (no longer Clerk) at a nearby polling station. Trouble was I had dropped my deceased Mom's ancient plastic alarm clock. No matter how many new batteries I replaced, the clock would come to a stop eventually by 12, a mystery to me. So I tried my cell phone alarm, but it rang once only during at least 6 trial attempts, another mystery. So I got my client (yep, I was desperate) to lend me her alarm, only the sound was not exactly alarming! I often wake up in the early morning hours, but will I wake when I really need to? I asked the precinct Election Judge, my boss for this Election day, for the extraordinary favor of a wake up/back up call. In my anxiety I gave her, out of my mind, obviously running on automatic, my old, long since replaced phone number, one I have not used in 20 years which did show something of my state of mind!

I did not treasure the idea of riding my bike in the pitch black darkness of night, dressed appropriately, befitting an Election Judge and the solemnity of the day's occasion. Due to daylight savings time two days prior,  dawn had turned on the light already on the horizon, while the air did not feel frigid, but invigorating as we had experienced unseasonably warm temperatures this fall and earlier in spring. My half hearted hopes of encountering some wild life, such as another coyote or maybe a bear, found no fulfillment though. 

My boss wore purple with bright orange hair, while my co-worker wore greenish yellow unevenly hacked off, wild hair. Unable to resist the day's pay, this young girl stuck her nose in to some kind of cookoo comic book every chance she got. I had squeezed myself in to some undergarment several sizes too small,  not worn in years. Over it I wore layers of silvery/gray  elegant rayon and silk and my favorite 2-stranded white pearl necklace. I brought enough snacks for a week it seemed inside two bright red canisters. Most returned home with me. We worked 14 hours straight, unable to leave the building, unable to check in on the progress of the elections. Nothing that might compromise our professional, neutral stance was allowed; no computers, phones, newspapers, or magazines. 

Most of the day I served helping voters feed their paper ballots in to the voting machine and rewarding them with stickers and my enthusiasm for having done their civic duty. After a bit of an early morning rush voters trickled through, there was barely ever a line, any waiting any problem of any kind. Well there was the woman that wore a Pro Life T-Shirt - illegal and a man that resorted to a newspaper for help in voting - also illegal, and one kid wearing an Obama T-shirt. 

Most endearing was a dad I had watched enter the polling station, hand in hand with his 4 year old daughter. I observed them get their ballot, go to a booth, as it happened right near me. I then heard them talk and heard the little girl say "Obama" as I watched her fill out the oval of her choice. Dad talked some more with his daughter as he progressed down the ballot and they came over to me to surrender their voter permit, a dinky piece of paper, but important in our system of checks and balances. As they fed their ballot in to the machine, their vote got counted, I was able to reward them with their sticker, proof of them having voted. The girl's focus and seriousness really touched me. Dad did not just drag his daughter along, but engaged his daughter, only 4 years old, and made his daughter aware of choices and I believe empowered her as a girl and future woman and citizen. 

Most of the day I spent near that voting machine which also meant near an official Republican Observer, but unable to discuss political matters - a kind of hell, definitely for me. We had received 950 ballots, the voting machine registered 363 ballots, we ended up destroying 600 unused ballots. We were 5 that worked that precinct for 14 hours, the voting machine did cost thousands of dollars and then there is the expense of the technicians and the supplies and others I am sure I have not thought of. All of it for 350 votes! Seems to me that one vote costs us too much. But at least we now have a good system with check and balances all the way through that should make voting a breeze with barely any lines and any waiting. I want to believe in our democracy and I was honored to play a small part in it with actually great enthusiasm and impartiality.

Relief!

Rachel Maddow (msnbc) brought it home to me:
We are not going to reverse Roe versus Wade.

We are not going to repeal Obamacare,
nobody will be refused insurance due to prior conditions.
Medicare will not be turned in to a voucher system
We are not going to spend more on the military
than it asked for.
We are not self deporting.
We are not going to start a trades war with China.
We are not going to bring Dick Cheney back.

Nate Silver was right.
Romney was wrong.
We now hear that Romney was shell shocked by the results.

Bill Maher says it like only he can: 'When even Michele Bachmann can't run as a proud Republican, your brand identification has reached "pink slime" territory." 

Romney lost in all four of his home states: MI, MA, NH, CA.
Obama won in both his home states: HI and IL. 

Romney was so deluded, he never even considered losing. He had no concession speech on hand. Imagine him and his realizing the extent of their delusions, oh it goes so much further and deeper then this election. He must have believed in god having ordained him to the presidency of the United States. His house of cards must have collapsed, his mind ought to have a rare opportunity to glance a peak at Maya, the world of illusion and the world of projections we all live in. Romney's spiritual advancement though is a concern between him and his god. 

My world has just gotten a little bit saner with the resounding defeat of Romney's and the extreme repugnant Republican's right wing agenda. 

Mrs. Obama in Kenya, our President's Grandmother

Tammy Duckworth (D) a disabled Iraq War veteran was elected to represent the 8th congressional district of Illinois in the U.S. House of Representatives.

Same sex marriage is on it's way in and so is decriminalization of pot. 

The '3 strikes - you are out', or is it in (prison) rule got relaxed in California.

Romney will not get to appoint the next Supreme Court Justices, instead we will be able to rely on our President's good judgment on a matter of extreme importance due to the long lasting effects of those positions.

Bush has done enough damage, his administration's advisors will not be able to continue their ill fated attempts at dominating the world to benefit US interests, based on US exceptionalism.

Relief!

Relief!

Nice knowing you, kid.

I was able to sleep very well

after having listened to the vice presidential debate 

while also having followed it on twitter, a first for me.

I agree with Robert Reich

"Biden delivered: 

Passion, conviction, indignation, incredulity at Ryan's lies. 

He stood up for average working people.

Robert Reich's grades:

Passion and conviction: Biden A, Ryan C.

Logic: Biden A-, Ryan C+.

Facts: Biden B, Ryan D. 

Closing: Biden C, Ryan B.  

I gave Vice President Biden an A on the skewed CNN poll.

Biden ought to keep on smiling

because he clearly displayed his expertise and experience

in foreign affairs.

Biden's outrage at the ridiculous Republican assertions

were absolutely justified.  

I actually share with Republicans

 a belief that life begins at conception.

I consider abortion a very tough choice to make, 

one that I never ever would want to make,

never had to make for myself,

and never ever would want to impose on another woman!

I appreciate our Vice President 

not forcing his beliefs on the rest of us.

"If Obama had been this strong, 

the election would be over now." 

Bill Maher tweet

"My father used to say, 

"Don't raise your voice, 

improve your argument"

Archbishop Desmond Tutu

Vice-President Biden argued masterfully.

Relief!

Prelude

August 4th is a birthday shared by our US President and our NM Mayor - and my friend Christa, who invited me for the occasion to the opera. The spectacle of a double rainbow blessed us before the staged spectacle at our outstanding venue for the cultured people in Santa Fe.

Dressed in all purple, including kimono, wearing my 18-strand black, fresh water pearl necklace, I sat in the third row up front. Expensive seats that did not offer a view on those playing the wind instruments, the kind that somehow hold a particular fascination for me with their rich, deeply satisfying sounds. I could have thought of a lot of uses for the money my friend spent on me to accompany her, but who am I to look in to the mouth of a gifted horse. Well, true, I am the kind that would likely look in to a mouth, if only out of curiosity, and possibly refuse an offer, but not this one.

We heard a lot of singing in French during which I tried hard to practice my comprehension skills despite operas being operas and their dramas tendencies to silliness, if not the absurd. For the deliveries in Italian, the sounds simply washed over me, but the few German renditions did leave something to be desired in regard to accent. I must say I have heard outstanding German from Americans at our opera, but not last night. 

But opera is no longer what it used to be, the singers now look attractive and they can act. Truly I admired their groundedness and their lack of grandiose gesturing. The performances all seemed very restrained, but powerful and pleasing. One outstanding soprano singer and performer though cracked me up, as she looked like an incarnation of Fiona out of Pixar's Shrek, lovely.

off the net

So, a good time was had by all.

2012?

The merry happiness season has thankfully come to an end, hallelujah! Way too much emphasis on happiness for my taste. Beware what you wish for, it may come true! Happiness is so overrated. Anderson Cooper's giggles are cute, maybe because we know him as such a serious and courageous journalist, but I sure had no desire to join him and the far out, over the top Kathy Griffin on CNN for New Years eve. I used to giggle a lot, as a girl in school, anxious nerves I suppose.

My holidays were spent home alone, that is with my three furry companions. Distractions would not do, no music, not even TV and my Mom's antique church sing-along book stayed stashed away unopened, not much singing came out of my mouth this season. Well, there is usually some humming,  mostly unintentional, these days more of the nature of 'We Will Overcome'.

I do not recommend spending holidays home alone, but neither do I recommend spending such in the folds of dysfunctional families. It's a no-win situation unless one feels loved before and after  the hoopla of holidays, so then the duration of such may be born with some confidence and some dignity.

With the start of a new year it seems time for a new survey. My inquiry in to your feelings about Obama (note my leaving out President on purpose, because I am mad and terribly disappointed in him) yielded a surprising 57% in his favor (out of 7 votes I should ad.) So, with my new poll I wonder how you feel about the year 2012? (Please vote in the poll to your right, multiple times if you wish.)

No fair to ask you without offering an answer myself, so simply stated I am worried. While I found hope in the Occupy movement I no longer wish to be associated with our local Occupy encampment and our local dysfunctional group that makes safety and communication not an absolute priority. Still I identify myself with the 99% and with those that demand change and those that object on moral grounds. The 99% has become a slogan, has become a useful synonym that begs less for exactitude, but more to bring attention to the fact that a small minority has been abusing their super powers for their own gain and on cost of real, live, hurting people. The specifics will become clearer. Locally, our progressives are busy bees preparing for this upcoming legislative session which starts January 17the and goes on for 30 days. I am prepared to occupy committee hearings, are you?

Beyond the legislature, this being an election year, I have a horror, first of all of so much money spent, basically to buy votes, basically invested away from people in need. Money Out Of Politics already, this is obscene! I loath the drivel of the ever same pundits dissecting every  manipulative statement every word, every move and gesture intended more to hide then reveal truth by those most uninspiring presidential candidates, analyzed at absurdum by the media. How anyone can even conceive of Gingrich as president is beyond me. Ron Paul has some redeeming qualities, his uncompromising authenticity rings true, his stand against military proliferation and against meddling in foreign affairs could win my favors, but look at  his position on women's rights, even over their own bodies, abominable. Huntsman holds appeal, but for the right I am told his Mormon roots are unacceptable. A Tea Party person considered the United States a Christian nation, why am I surprised? 

 

Thankfully my furry friends are blissfully unaware of all such goings-on. I might like to join them, but I am afraid that sticking our heads in to the sand, spacing out and pretending nothing really matters, will not be the responsible thing for any of us to practice.

Farming

This is about the farming, versus the hunting style of collecting a menagerie of cherished images 'image-cherie'. Usually I grab my camera and head out with my two pups on lead intent on capturing whatever captivates my eyes and spirit with little forethought, certainly minimal planning. Only on a few occasions did I attempt the farming style of image construction. For the first time ever in 2007 inspired by a flickr assignment I took on in total privacy, out of sheer curiosity. I chose a favorite object of mine found on Fire Island several decades ago, my 'Schneggehuus', which became my talisman and my spirit helper in finding a home of my own, first in New York City and later in the City Different.

I placed the object simply on a black plate on a table and started to aim my camera. The light from the above window proved to be a challenge, so I submerged my snail house inside a clear glass bowl filled with water which I placed outside, on a tiny mirror under a blue sky and this is one of the results:

Yesterday inspired by the attention a reprocessed image got on flickr, it made Explore, I took it on to finally give it another try with that favorite shell of mine. Something I had been meaning to do for years. I dragged my big oval mirror out in the yard on the table and placed my shell on the mirror under a blue sky. This is an Ortonized, intensified, or sugar coated version:

It was a challenge to keep out all that did not belong in the image, such as yard stuff, walls, overhanging branches, white tracks of airplanes on a mostly blue sky reflected in the mirror, all in a small confined space with not too much room to move.

By late afternoon the sky had turned gray and I thought I should give it another try, now with the light coming from the other direction. No longer intent on capturing the white shell against a blue sky I felt free to move in very close and this is the macro got:

Unwanted Attention

... give us our daily bike ride

... and give us our daily bike ride, morning and night.

I took this morning for myself, rare,  as usually I do not see the point of going out and about without my two pups in tow. But this morning it was only me on my bike with my Nikon. My favorite shot from this hunt for images is the one I got because without pups in tow, it was easier to get up some steps in order to discover some new vistas of familiar places. This one is of the Pink Adobe Restaurant an infamous, illustrious hang out spot for maybe centuries and a favorite of legislators during legislative sessions held at our nearby Round House, the seat of our New Mexico government.

Notice the faralitos, these pretty lights are no longer limited to Christmas season but these days appreciated all year long. I imagine putting these electric versions on and off high places could be a real pain.

You can also notice on the upper right a tattered ladder, an important symbol in the Native traditions and frequent adornment to homes in our neck of the woods.

This property is for sale, I imagine not cheap either. What I never noticed is the battered wagon wheel on top, like a remnant of the not too distant Wild West.

This picturesque home is a great example of the traditional adobe Pueblo style architecture our town decided to make a name for itself with it! Yep, it was decided to create an intentional style of architecture that echoes Anaszi culture to attract tourists, and it worked. 

These rounded earthen forms seduced my eyes, but in our climate they are also very practical, as the thick walls keep the heat in or out as desired.

Pappi

Today, April 26, would have been my Dad's 87th birthday. 5 years ago I rushed to Zurich, my hometown, to my Dad's bed side, a month earlier as planned, and ended up staying at his side much of the following 3 months. While uncommunicative most of his life, he had asked me clearly to stay. So I did, and gave up my long anticipated first trip to Ghana, Africa. It was my privilege to support my Dad in his time of need and his last phase.

Let me tell you, Swiss public institutions for the elderly are a lot better then the one's, public ones, I know in my community in the United States. Still it was hard. I would observe my Dad in spasm, report it to the staff, and be met with disbelief and an outright wrong diagnosis. It took 3 weeks to finally get the main honcho to diagnose my Dad's intestinal spasms correctly and not attribute them to epileptic seizures and/or part of the Parkinson symptoms. Until then everybody simply did not pay enough attention to actually notice his pain and he was in a state, unable to express himself, maybe unwilling to cause trouble. It was my honor to be his spokes person for the last few weeks of his life.

He had trouble swallowing and excessive mucous was congesting him, so I asked to leave out the dairy products. You would think that the Swiss cooks never had heard of dairy! Still the soups had butter and the deserts had whipped cream, delicious, but not helpful. Only 2 days without and he breathed easier and felt a lot more comfortable. 

I asked to keep him more hydrated with herbal teas I would leave in a special thermos for him on  his bed side. I did not realize then at first that even offering tea costs! It took maybe a month, maybe longer before the staff actually started to use the thermos and his mouth showed less dryness. Hydration really is crucial to the functioning of the body and brain.

It got really rough when I had to decide on my Dad's treatment plan. As I had just talked to the attending doctor on her visit at his bed side, my Dad told me with great clarity that he wanted everything done to him. Meaning he did not want us to give up on him, but he did not understand the implications. Who am I to decide over life and death!

My Dad had this moments of lucidity, moments where out of character he would share things with me. Suddenly he mentioned his having fallen in love, heavily in love, he told me. That was it, no more, not a word. Was he thinking of my mom who had passed on suddenly a few years earlier? Somehow I suspect he was reminiscing of his youth, a time long before he would meet my Mom.

My Dad had upset me severely a few years earlier when he refused to take another trip and seemed to give no hoot about my Mom's desire to travel more, maybe visit me across the ocean. His selfish concerns and disregard of my Mom's longings upset me enough to confront him one day, on a rare occasion as the two of us were hanging in a coffee shop. So it really surprised me when he announced to me that it may be time for him to take another trip. He did not elaborate, just that cryptic statement that I believe was part of his acceptance of his dying process. My mom had dragged him all around the world to far away exotic places, ever since the late sixties. 

My Mom's glamor job for me would have been to play the part of a glorified waitress on an airplane, a Stewardess, to travel to far away places, but always to return home. (I did travel far, but never returned!) I found this image which must have been taken by my Dad, I assume, in Tunisia, on their first big vacation together, without me. (I stayed home alone, in 6th grade, a bit afraid of the dark at night, but not too much. With my best friend over, we would fry ourselves heavily spiced pieces of meat late at night, the extent to which I then took my unsupervised freedom.) 

For my planned trip to Accra I had bought my self my very first digital point and shoot camera, an Olympus, because I knew the brand from the collection of cameras my Dad had kept. His interest peaked as it occurred to me to show him my new gadget and this dying man came alive again for a few moments. This is the very first image I took with that new camera on his bedside while holding his hand. It now symbolizes a whole lot for me. Things like the intimacy of holding hands, of caring and sharing, but also holding on and fear, things both me and my Dad were plenty familiar with.

5 years ago on his last birthday, I had asked my Dad how old he thought he was and his response after long deliberation and not a little uncertainty was, maybe, just maybe 30 years old! This made me smile and made me think of how we depict ourselves and others often in the peak of our lives. My Mom too I believe envisioned herself rising from the dead, on resurrection day, as a young, vibrant woman. So this is my Dad, as a young man, maybe in his early twenties. He remains a mystery to me in so many ways as he had never been one to talk about himself, his feelings, his beliefs, his work or his past. I treasure the peace we found together at last.

Quintessential Santa Fe

On the first day of Spring, the day after my neighbor's Aspen tree buds burst open and we all then had to deal with an assault of thunder, hail and another snow storm that delivered again inches of very dry snow, I felt blessed to take our evening walk under a blue and sunny sky on roads that had mostly dried by the end of our first day of Spring. Heading back home this is what we encountered:

I was enchanted by this quintessential Santa Fe look: The magic golden light just before the sun sets with the very long shadows. An almost deserted plaza even on a Saturday evening offering plenty of space even downtown. And a Mariachi band that played with gusto and skill so that even I could enjoy this style of entertainment. I felt delighted to be in the right place at the right time where the eyes and ears got their due.

Notice the light off the buttons on the musicians costumes, such a feast for the eyes with the Governor's Palace making a perfect background.

They say now happiness is contagious and so is misery. Experiencing this scene made me feel delighted, despite having had to go out and walk the dogs in still frigid air. The charms are many in the Land of Enchantment or - Entrapment.

2 Year Anniversary

2 years ago exactly our Pretty Kitty, Mucho-Macho-Lover-Boy, Saemi, formerly San, joined our pack, I thought temporarily, but we were able to keep this charmer, luck bringer and mice-dispeller.

His responsiveness impressed and endeared me to him right away. One shush, and he would stop nibbling on a plant, or get off where he wasn't welcome.

Here I am in search of catness, this mysterious quality of cat, that is so different from dogs. This kitty is street smart and seemingly unafraid. He will approach any dog when he deems the time right.

Our Lover-Boy has now finagled for 2 years, trying to get up close to cuddle with Sumo. His desire is so intense and his approach so devious, as he inches his way closer.

These are my pups on their first encounter with a cat in our home. Isabella's quizzical look is priceless and so very familiar. She never been close to a cat before while Sumo had lived with one prior. His tendency is to start licking and cleaning himself just like a cat.

Thankfully we never had a fight. In the beginning I was concerned about the sudden swipes coming from the Pretty Kitty, just as they were getting more comfortable with him. Now I understand this was his way of demanding respect and attention which he gets now from both. My Isabella-girl I think is really impressed with his ability to scale the fence. This must have contributed in great parts to his current good looks and loss of weight.

I never imagined sharing my tiny home, with three furry ones, much less sleeping with them on a narrow single bed, which now I really enjoy! I can feel the benefits of snuggling up to other mammals. I bet my heart opens, my blood pressure lowers and I can attest to the improvement of my mood in general. I even fidget less.

We are very lucky to count our black cat as part of our pack!

flickr final part 4

My 'Goddess with an Attitude' was my very first upload, here post-processed with tools I then had not yet discovered. The first of more then 3,800 images that total almost 133,300 views.

I realize that an image alone no matter how beautiful is never as relevant to me as an image that holds meaning, has something to say, maybe tells a story, or somehow gives new insight.

In this light I invite you to check out some of my favorite photostreams on flickr starting with BuckarooBob from the Oregon Coast, a master story teller, prior photo journalist and human being of the very first order:

"I'm a seeker and a believer, a pilgrim and a pirate, a dreamer and a schemer"

Prabhakaran from Chenai, India will charm you too, I bet, with his delightful presentation of his world seen through his beloved Canon. I particularly love the insights he provides in to the culture of South India, along with his sweet poetic spirit coupled with a great sense of humor.

Vol-au-Vent or Kiki, from France, but always a Swiss at heart, is my queen of soulfulness, one can not help be enchanted by her presentations. She has a knack for finding the perfect quote, followed by personal and intimate expression, set to her image to express charmingly what is in her heart and thereby touch another's soul.

Keith from Australia is a closet film maker to my mind, a thinking photographer, highly attuned to the interplay of light, dark and shadows. His images are not the cute, warm and fuzzy kind, but the stunning, capture of poignant moments in time, like this one here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/xpatscot/3793590223/sizes/l/

Finally the cutest pet images ever got to be of Earny the Terrier and Toby the calico cat:
ttp://www.flickr.com/photos/jobee59/sets/72157603571959871/
from the Australian bush via Jobee59

flickr anniversary part 3

Here comes the tricky part, expressing my complex, sometimes difficult feelings in relating on-line and through mine and others creative efforts. I decided early on that flickr is one of my modes of self expression rather then my advertisement! Meaning I never intend to cater to an audience. My hope is that you might be moved by some of my posts and might even respond, but I will not hold my breath for that to happen. If I sound defensive, I am afraid I am. The truth is that I did hold my breath despite my best of intentions. Going public means seeking interaction, who am I kidding. There is a reason I do not keep my images to myself. I can't get my friends to look at them, what do I expect? Nothing and everything, but anything other then generic, polite responses, pleaze! And spare me the devastating critical kind or the dubious silences. Whoever said silence is gold is a liar. Silence is a killer, fosters uncertainty and doubt. Benign neglect can be lethal. But who takes the time for constructive criticism? Who knows how to give such? And anyhow I keep reading how flickr is about "fun" - really?

I never been big on gratitude and yes, I ought to be grateful for all the attention my images do get while I am so blissfully ignorant of the true art of photography The truth is that I have hurt many a time over many an overlooked dear image of mine. I guess it is unavoidable considering everything, but it hurts nevertheless. What is dear to me does not (yet?) translate in to dear to others and that is what distinguishes the successful artist, right?

Flickr does embrace that which is cute, no doubt. I like cute too, up to a point. At first I kept my activity to pet imagery, how odd for me, but hey I got one, then two, then three furry ones and pets seemed saver to explore, god forbid I should come upon explicit sex images, which I am happy to report I really have managed to avoid. So how come there rarely is a dog baring it's teeth? Dogs piss and hump plenty, but rarely do I find an image of such realities of life, why? Might it be offensive to a young family member?

This playful image of my Sumo-boy gave nightmares to a few but started a lively discussion. I adore this ferocious image of Sumo because it counters the assumption that little Sumo-boy, because of his size is a cute puppy rather then the adult alpha, independent, unafraid male that he is in reality.

Of course Sumo is cute, but his spirit is large and he does not need to be looked at as a baby or toy. He is a guy for real.

But this is not about Sumo or canine companions, but about my experiences with flickr. Just now I took a break to check a mail from one of my dear flickr friends. Turns out a stranger  by mistake somehow managed managed to upload an image to his stream. Now get this, none of his many viewers, many regulars questioned this odd image that so did not relate to his body of work. Rather the comments were complimentary on his choice of colors and design and so on! This is what gets me with flickr, these non-sensical, superficial responses, please! Who needs them?

It is time to honor the friends that I did find on flickr and that make flickr special. I love connecting over our creative efforts with folks from all over the world, from all kinds of backgrounds, cultures, religions, beliefs, tongues and nationalities.

to be continued ...

flickr anniversary part 2

Here I continue my reflections on flickr by considering my personal favorites of the thousands of images I captured and posted in these last 3 years.

This one is one of the very first images I took with my new Nikon D40. My camera sat there for a while before I dared approach it. I was walking my pups as I so often do and was passing by this very old, funky cemetery and almost missed this toy up on the fence. By pure chance the colors and sharpness of the image keep delighting me and so does the symbology of sitting on the fence, something I have been accused too often. Here I demonstrate that sitting on the fence can be o.k. and almost look comfortable!



This one is a bit similar in that I was focused on architecture and almost missed these cute tigers, really I am not a fan of cutesy toys, but I love this image and think the frame perfect.



Tractors and heavy equipment have very little appeal to me usually, but this one early morning the light shone upon this tractor and I love what became of it, an abstract of sorts. I really love it because it is so unlike me to be attracted to such. My world opens up looking through a lens and I come to love all kinds a things.

I love my pups and treasure capturing them in action, which is not easy. Here I was quick to reach for my camera when I spotted Howdy, a gorgeous Labradoodle pup. It was late in the morning the sun already washing out a lot of color and my aim was not perfect. I did a lot of finnegaling to achieve this so far my favorite version of the image.



If you care to check out more of my images you might like to view one of my favorite sets.
to be continued ...