The Other Side of Somewhere

Easter Sunday (2008)

I'm so happy that the weather is improving.  It feels so good - emotionally and creatively - to get outside!

Crossroads

Flickr Favorites Mosaic (e) Swap

Supafly Design hosted a really neat e-swap on swap-bot where the participants put together a mosaic of favorite photos on flickr and emailed the mosaic to their assigned partners.  How cool is that?  So easy and fun! I hope this trend for e-swaps continues.

Here is my mosaic.  There is no rhyme or reason for the images chosen; they are simply images that I love and make me happy.

Enjoy!

Please visit the talented photographers and owners of these lovely images:
1. The color of existance!, 2. The Notebook 2, 3. february 2008 calendar page, 4. lemony goodness, 5. Follow your art, 6. Rainbow-Stripey, 7. coletas, 8. Huh?, 9. redgirl, 10. the real thing, 11. Funny Faces, 12. We all scream, 13. stable, 14. Goldie!, 15. mixed media handbag, 16. morning walk

Autumn Photo Shoot

My backyard is a-flame with leaves in all sorts of dizzying colors.  **swoon**

Took my long-neglected girls out for a photo. Contrary to the rest of the country which mentally seems to have completely glossed over fall and Thanksgiving, fast forwarding straight to Christmas, we are still savoring the wonderful-ness that is AUTUMN!

Except for reducing the size for the blog, these photos are "as is" from the camera.  No photoshop.

Owen (1972 vintage Kenner Blythe)

Scout (Rosie Red Encore Blythe)

Gracie (Prima Dolly Saffy Blythe)

Day Seventeen: NaBloPoMo

Sunday, November 4th

My Sunday looked like this:

1. I picked up a necklace made by Mosser Studio that I purchased last month at The Red Thread Studio.  The artist made the glass bead by hand ... I love how it looks like clouds suspended inside of it.

2. A rusty street grate that caught my attention.

3. Standing on another rusty grate ... the pattern intrigued me.  I know we are supposed to walk down the street with confidence and looking people in the eye, but I see a lot of interesting things looking down ...

4. ... and looking up.  I pass by this building a lot.  At eye level, it is easy to ignore.  The simple act of looking up, provided an entirely new perspective.

Day Four: NaBloPoMo

Happy Halloweenie!

This is what happens ...

... when you send your spouse to pick up some candy for trick-or-treaters.  "Some candy" in Mr. P-speak = SIX JUMBO BAGS!  The kiddies in our neighborhood are getting HUGE handfuls of candy tonight. 

I found this photo from way back when (1978 to be exact).  I'm the gypsy ...

Happy Halloweenie!

Cone Hat Women From Texas

In recent issues of a popular altered art magazine, letters to the editor have included complaints about the popular practice of applying cone hats to figures in art pieces.

Allow me to provide photographic evidence (and historical context) that cone headed women are not a new thing:

I scored these photos at an antique fair in South Florida a few years ago.  The photos came from a huge, falling apart scrapbook that the dealer purchased in Texas.  Based on cues in these photos and the many others I bought and pored over, it is evident that at the time of these photos, this Texas family had recently acquired a camera.  Not knowing exactly what to photograph, they staged many silly scenes, including these jolly ladies sporting paper cone hats.  The photos are fuzzy, but they are charming, delightful, and silly.

Makes me want a paper cone hat of my own.  (Well.  Not quite).

Fancies

Busy week with out of town visitors and work.  Not much time (or energy) for anything creative (though I crave creative time).  Just enough time and inclination to savor these photographic fancies from my flickr favorites. 

Enjoy!

Photo Credits:

1. 52 Weeks...Week 8, 2. “When the music changes, so does the dance”, 3. Jana - Look Who's Here!, 4. Ooh Rah!, 5. Bridget and Me, 6. balance, 7. blue bird keychain, 8. midsummer mandala, 9. Untitled, 10. cup of cake, 11. cuppncake, 12. QP THE GIANT SAYS HI. ^^, 13. Spring 1974, 14. Kitchen Pickin', 15. in my streets, 16. Muttsy the Well Rounded, 17. opioid-tolerant, 18. strawberries bear, 19. Untitled, 20. Week 18: Kolla, 21. the laughs won't be the same, 22. touch, 23. Baby cats, 24. It's a Small World, 25. Forget.Me.Not

Layers

I pass this abandoned building on my way to and from work.  The building (it is not clear what its purpose was in its former life) sits a few feet away from the railroad tracks in a small old town that has many abandoned, deteriorating structures that positively radiate potential if anybody bothered to care.

The last few weeks I've been particularly enamored by the center part of this building ... the two large circles with the teeny little circle off to the right.  I drive towards this building at a different angle than the one shown in the photo.  To get that angle and the shot I've been envisioning, I'd have to stand in the middle of the street.  As I'm new to going out and taking photos, I'm not quite ready to hold up traffic, (even the traffic in a small town).

This building and its layers move me. 

The rusted siding and bluish patina almost look like a painting.

The cracked, broken windows and crumbling brick chimney look so tired, and yet they possess a kind of dignity, holding everything up.

The open spaces where doors once hung are a little scary; foreboding.  I did peek inside but was afraid to cross the threshold, even with the sun streaming brightly through old, broken windows.

All those bright green weeds (and a few vivid purple morning glories) suggest resilience and a kind of hope.

The Layers
Stanley Kunitz

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
in a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
"Live in the layers,
not on the litter."
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.