236. Drama

I went to see the opera tonight... the Marriage of Figaro. It was hilarious, over the top, and enjoyable. There were so many great photographs that I could have taken if I was allowed to but all I was able to grab is one of the empty theater at the end of the night. The music, sets, light, players, and audience, all gone.

I will leave you with the closing lyrics of the opera. After all the lovers' trickery and deceit:

This day of torment,

Of caprices and folly,

Love can end

Only in contentment and joy.

Lovers and friends, let's round things off

In dancing and pleasure,

And to the sound of a gay march

Let's hasten to the revelry.

235.5 Bonus post

Ok. Just trying one more approach to blogging via iPad with photos - it really shouldn't be this hard.

235. Tech Happy

I just got my hands on an iPad for the first time and I have to admit it is cool. But my perception was that it would be a big iPhone and it's not. Most of the apps that I have come to rely on are not available for the iPad and if they are the are available the app renders no bigger then the size of an iPhone on my screen.

I got access to this iPad in order to play with the benefits to photography - I haven't made too much head way. Not sure if I will be ever able to use it as a tether. I will keep exploring.

I did figure this out...posting a photo to a blog with a iPad is next to impossible!

-posted by Windo's iPad with some difficulty

234. Bird

Camera angle really is everything.

233. Unexpected

It was late, about 11:30 pm and the moon was just about to peak over Watchman Mountain in Zion. I was sitting in the middle of the road of the group campground loop taking photos straight up into the night capturing the stars. As the moon started to pop out the light suddenly changed. I swung the camera around, propped it up on my flip flop style sandal, and guested at the exposure. The result is alien, foreign, and seems to belong to another world.

232. In the eye...

Watchman Mountain, Zion reflected in Abbey's eye.

231. Guilt

When I am away from my mom I feel so guilty. It is hard to enjoy yourself when you know someone needs you so desperately. I wish I could just settle all her fears and concerns.

230. Crush

A student asked me an interesting question this week… “How did you become interested in photography?” My response is simple. But as a 40 plus year old women it is somewhat embarrassing --- it was a crush. As a young impressionable teenager I quickly feel in love with a boy who introduced me to the darkroom. Watching an image develop in the tray was pure magic and I was hooked. As a fickle teen I quickly dropped him and turned my affections to photography. That was 25 years ago.

Until the darkroom experience… I always thought I would be a veterinarian or a musician. I loved all animals – at least those that were warm blooded and had fur. In between collecting strays I studied several musical instruments – the piano, cello, flute, guitar, and bass. Honestly the love of photography hit hard and fast -  a blindside. Within a year my goals and dreams changed so dramatically and I was headed to art school… my parents miffed.

Last night I filled out a questionnaire about my daughter, Katie. I listed her special talents and interests, “animals and music.” It sounded so familiar. Later in the evening Katie and I had a quiet talk. She expressed the desire to own a pet store after receiving a degree to practice veterinary medicine. She asked me to help her fit music into her vision. I couldn’t help but flash back to my own dreams as a ten year old. Yes mine too included music and animals but that boy changed everything.

229. Superhero

My students have a new assignment. I hand out random stereotypical character titles and they have to create photographic character portraits based on the titles: librarian, card shark, rogue, femme fatal, clown, wicked witch, grease monkey, pin up girl, brat, etc. You get the idea. After the choosing of title, general whining and complaining about their dislike for their pick, the students encouraged me to also randomly draw a character from the hat. And so I did.

Oddly enough I had yet to come up with an idea and then my husband sent me a text. Mission accomplished!

228. Grief

Katie is a bit socially awkward - somewhere between aloof and shy. She doesn't always acknowledge the compliments that friends pay her. She doesn't always remember to ask how someone else's day is going. She doesn't always need her friends when she is distracted by some huge project scheming in her head. She  has always been well liked by others, but not one to have any really close friends. And then came Maggie in second grade. Maggie too is struggles with the social side of growing up so she understands Katie and they became close friends. For fifth grade, Maggie ended up moving to another school. Katie has tried to get together will her for a month, but both their little lives are so busy. Today, Katie just lost it. She cried so hard and so deeply for about 20 minutes. I couldn't even really understand what she was upset about. Finally a bit exhausted her cries slowed enough to tell me how much she missed having her friend. The way she described her feelings was similar to a person grieving from death of a loved one. It was that painful and profound.

227. Campfire

I think my favorite part of camping is sitting around the campfire.

226. Drive by

Late night, unhealthy meal. Taught for 8 hours with a hour and a half long division meeting squished in between. Looking forward to camping this weekend. Taking the headache to bed.

225. Common Courtesy

On the Avon Walk I was struck by how decent and kind everyone was that weekend. The walkers, the volunteers, the staff, the traffic cops, the crowds... everyone. Not a sour puss or crab in the bunch. The end result allowed you to believe in humanity again.

And then a week passes... a friend was supposed to come for dinner tonight. She sent a text message 5 minutes before the appointed time to let me know she wouldn't be coming. Common courtesy would dictate a phone call at minimum. Yes, I am hurt. Wouldn't you be?

224. Fogged in

I woke up feeling a bit foggy and tired. The diet coke I drank to clear my mind hand little effect. Eventually I ended up at the beach covered heavy in clouds and mist. It was beautiful and matched my mood perfectly.

223. Girl Culture

I went to the Getty Museum today to view the Engaged Observers exhibition - a show of documentary photography since 1960. A lot of the work was familiar to me... actually it all was. That didn't make seeing it any less enjoyable.

Some of the images from Laurie Greenfield's work entitled "Girl Culture" was on display. In the past I have always viewed this work as trivial next to Griffiths' work of Vietnam or Nachtwey's images of Iraq. But today, for some reason it stuck a cord. Since I started this blog I have been dancing around my own girls as a documentary subject. When completely stumped at night I can easily fall back on the gaze and pose they project back at my camera. We often collaborate. In the last 222 days I have often felt this a cop out - a mother taking snap shots instead of an artist creating significant images... but today something changed to me. There are so many photographers that have made outstanding images by recording what is near to them - near in proximity and genetic make-up. Why fight it?

222. G'night

221. Girls are Beautiful

In 1975, Garry Winogrand published a book of his photographs entitled "Women are Beautiful". His original title for the book was "Confessions of a Male Chauvinist Pig." It is amazing how a short amount of text can change the context and meaning of an image. The original title emphasized Winogrand's true view of women - objects over people. He claimed he had to preconceived notions about photography and how to photograph, but looking at the totality of his work it is often hard to believe that. He claimed that there was nothing intention about his style and at the same time, nothing arbitrary. In his own words, "I like to think of photographing as a two-way act of respect. Respect for the medium, by letting it do what it does best, describe. And respect for the subject, by describing as it is. A photograph must be responsible to both."

from Garry Winogrand's "Women are Beautiful"

220. Me

I didn't take this shot... My husband is guesting on the blog and doesn't even know it.

He took this photograph a little over a month ago and I keep coming back to it. It is an angle of me, an angle that I never see. Considering my height, it is an angle of me that most likely no one ever sees. And that is what I love about it as a photograph. The ability a photograph has to see something that we don't normally consider.

219. Cheerleader

I am not even comfortable dressing up in costume for Halloween. I admire people that can be goofy and enjoy letting go of convention.

218. Overwhelmed

A couple years ago I was terribly overweight and out of shape. On the path that I was on I won't have a long and healthy life. So I started walking with some friends. At first I couldn't get up a short hill, but each day with my friends encouragement I got stronger.

One friend Julie started training for last year's Avon Walk in Long Beach. I knew that I couldn't walk that far and didn't even try it. But this year when she asked me again, I was in. Honestly I decided to do the walk in order to get in and keep in shape. A health goal more than out of a sense of charity. I will do it again next year for the people I met this weekend.

From the opening ceremony and continuing through every step of 39 plus miles, I realized what the Avon Walk was really about. I lost my step-dad to cancer, but thankfully I haven't lost any friends or family to breast cancer, but cancer is cancer. And as one child told me on the route... "it sucks!" It is a challenge to walk 39 miles, but it is easy, truly easy, when you have a survivor and her family stand on the side of the road and cheer you on - sincerely thank you for walking. It is easy to walk 39 miles when the women in front of you is wearing a t-shirt that lists many, many friends and family that have have lives altered or ended short due to breast cancer.

My eyes filled with tears so many times this weekend. I didn't anticipate the crowds on the side of the road, or the stories I would hear from fellow walkers. It is an experience that I will cherish and hope to do again.

217. Walk

What an incredible experience today! Way more emotional than I expected. I am so tired that I can't write about it tonight in any detail but I promise to return to the subject soon - just need rest first.



- excuse the typos...posted via Windo's iPhone

216. Mentor, not!

It is so odd how you bury things. Things to painful to remember. But then all if a sudden they come back so unexpected.

I am in Santa Barbara tonight. The night before the Avon Walk. A goal of 40 miles in two days that I had committed energy, money, and time to for something I really believe in. And tonight I went out to dinner in Santa Barbara with some friends - they picked the restaurant.

We ended up at a really great place that required you to walk through an art gallery in order to gain admission to the restaurant. The galleries walls were hung with paintings that seemed familiar and derivative in nature. Upon seeing them... it all came back.

The paintings, in the style of a former teacher from UCSB, were by Hank Pitcher. His work was of the coastal hills of California over simplified in complimentary colors.

In my junior year of college I left USC to seek a less expensive education at a state university. I had no idea the cost! I suffered greatly at the College of Creative Studies at UCSB. In my annual review the afore mentioned Hank Pitcher said my work was horrible, I'd never be an artist, and I should change my major. At 20 years old I had the maturity to not listen, return to USC, and keep trying.

I am not a famous artist, but a good one. I am a great teacher that knows never to smash a students dreams. I work hard to keep my critiques constructive.

What I didn't realize until tonight? I may have needed to improve as an artist, but Mr. Pitcher really sucked as a mentor.


- excuse the typos...posted via Windo's iPhone

215. Sassy

She is only 10 and I don't think I will survive all the sassiness and disrespect that comes with her. 

214. The Suits

Today was the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new expansion to our building. All the decision makers were there - deans, VPs, P, board members, elected officials - all the mover and shakers. I had to say two words, "thank you" but was so nervous I thought I would faint. It is odd. I get up in front of my class and talk all day - nerves of steel. But speeches? Ug! I wonder if the movers and shakers get nervous. May be they are just really good at hiding it. Their speeches are so smooth.





- excuse the typos...posted via Windo's iPhone

213. Untitled

Untitled and blurry...whoops.

212. Profile

211. Dong

It's 11:59 and the pumpkin has never been closer. I am so tired that I have made 10 mistakes or more in the first 6 words of this post.

I have been reading a novel most of the day that I can't wait to get back to and I hate this blog more than ever at the moment.

Rewind 2 days...While I was at a doctor's appointment with my mother Abbey called me crying. She needed her mom. I have been so absent dealing with my mom - the true meaning of the sandwich generation. Katie told her that she couldn't sing and she was crushed.

Rewind 35 years...It brought me back... many years. My brother Matt, just 15 months older than me told me I couldn't sing. I think I was 6. And when I didn't listen so he popped me in the nose. And when that didn't work he beat me silly. Where was our mother?

Fast forward...I believed him and stopped signing. Sad but true. The power of older sibling's words.

The two friends that I have known the longest as both amazing singers. Not just good signers but great, unique singers. I think that is why I admire them most.

Present day...
Watching my friend Nikki tonight singing with her daughter. Just a couple of songs, but honestly I could listen for hours.

210. Beans

209. Childhood

I was just thinking about Friday nights growing up... Couldn't wait till Mom was home and we would cuddle on the couch to watch Fantasy Island and Love Boat. My kids don't know what they are missing.



- excuse the typos...posted via Windo's iPhone

208. Migraine again

Before the headache gets the best of me...today's pic. Night.


- excuse the typos...posted via Windo's iPhone

207. In the middle

I have been working on this series of telephone poles for years. The pole is placed dead center of the frame - compositionally boring and a real no-no. But somehow breaking the rules sometimes works.