Notes From the Author

I hope to use this blog as a diary of sorts, in order to document my quest of perfecting my skills. Areas that I am particularly fond of include: photography, gardening, cooking - baking -canning, painting - sketching and of course writing. Like so many others, the word 'perfection' haunts me. I strive to reach it daily not truly knowing what it is or how to achieve it. Yet, I won't settle for less. Here is my blog showing my struggles and my hopeful successes. I don't need to be perfect but I must try to ascertain it.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Happiness Is...



Recently, I found myself at the happiest place on earth - literally.  I’d spent months planning – pouring over every detail trying to make the event perfect but when the BIG moment arrived, instead of happiness, I was surrounded by complaining loved ones.  Shaking it off, I knew that if I believed hard enough, I could turn our day around and transform it into the euphoria we expected.  More complaints followed.  Granted, we’d squeezed through a gantlet of bad luck but the future was ours – ours for the experiencing – ours for the seizing of true happiness.  That’s when it rained – literally - and not just a gentle spring rain but a full unsought thunderstorm.  I was drenched.  We all were.  She looked up at me, her luminous eyes were round like a full moon as she said, “I hate this place.”

Her words stung.  I was angry.  I was hurt.  After all, this whole trip was for her.  I’d worked so hard to make her happy.  I knelt to her level and with quick angry words crushed her until her pain matched my own.  This was all for her - - - or was it?  Slowly, I began to understand.  I was trying to live through her and not with her.  It wasn’t her job to feel happy for me.  Happiness wasn’t an item to be package and given.  It comes from within, arrives at unexpected moments, and flees just as mysteriously.  Chasing after it is as pointless as trying to bottle the breeze.
Broken and wet, we stood next to each other wondering how to get beyond this place.  The rain quit, the crowds evacuated and finally, we found our magical moment.  As we watched the twinkling lights of the parade we embraced in the darkness.  Joy filled us from within and we were closer and stronger than before.  I’m still trying to understand all the lessons I learned that day – trying to help guide her through the confusion but one thing we gained was a mutual respect for each other and for our strength to navigate through the darkest of times.
 

Saturday, June 1, 2013

It's Me

Thanks to my close friend and fellow writer, Traci Robison, I now have some much needed head shots to update my profile.  As a photographing enthusiast myself, it felt odd stepping in front of the camera.  My knowledge of angles and lighting should have aided me but in truth, it was little help once the posing began.  Smile, but don’t be fake.  Try not to squint your eyes so much.  Chin up; chin down.  I’m not one of those people who devotes time on self-image, so I began to feel very self-conscience; and that is when it happened. On a breezy Friday afternoon, at a city park just beyond a major street, I stood somewhat hidden amongst a grove of pine trees, feeling beyond ridiculous dressed in my field hat and fake fur collar – adorned with too much makeup…when a middle aged man passed before us traveling along the bike trail pulling a child’s wagon which held nothing but some sort of engine.  And suddenly it dawned on me that no matter how odd I looked, that moment in the park, had to be one of the most surreal events of the day.  I’m not sure why the man was using a child’s wagon to transport his engine through the park but the humorous voice in my head wants to believe he was simply taking it for a stroll – giving new meaning to ‘airing out your engine’.  Either way, the encounter helped me move past my self-conscience attitude and yielded an afternoon of giggling and fun.  Finally, some 500 shots later, I now have a portfolio I can use as I pursue my publication dreams.  Thanks Traci.