Tuesday, September 27, 2011


I'm convinced. One of the finest joys in life come from watching others. One of these days I going to make someone very angry with my camera. not on purpose of course. but yes the day will arrive that the person I take a picture of will actually not be so stoked on the notion. they will tell me about it.  But that is okay. People are at their very finest when they don't realize they are under the lens, When my picture is being taken, it makes me feel like i'm under a microscope too. I understand. yet I think the idea of pictures, a moment frozen in time, are invaluable. they capture what our memory cannot always contain and what are eyes sometimes fail to recognize.

There is a man at the market that plays the fiddle. He might just be my favorite. Maybe not so much because of his music. no, I think more so because he is he. At that very moment he is perfect. The other night, riding home late on bikes I came across a scene I longed my camera for but accepted the memory as a close second option. I watched a woman in a white dress soulfully play a violin. barefoot, she moved only to the changing of the pitch. In front of her stood a man. black suit and tie. two feet in front of her. nothing else mattered at that moment. The moment was perfect. It defined every essence of beauty I could possibly dream up. Take time out of your walk, your busy day. 10 seconds. stop and look around you next time you are in a crowd of people. you never know what your eyes may see.  

Saturday, September 3, 2011

the love-love situations

                                        Oregon Wheat Fields

Some people have cats and dogs; I have ladies.  Still some days off from laying; soon.... They were Easter babies, hand picked out from multiple smelly bins of fluffy tufts that ran around on spindly toothpick legs. they slept in the bedroom for the first few nights until it was quickly determined that sleep+light+peeping babies is not an equitable formula. So out they went to the laundry room where they lived until the Rubbermaid nest could no longer contain them. Home now? a backyard wilderness of sorts complete with red chicken coop. perfect. So this is another one of the projects that so heartily fills the Corvallis time. What's more... I wrote not long ago about the wonder of the appearing plums in the backyard. oh they only scratched the surface of my backyard explorations. What could possibly be better than 100's of mini plums? Why a fig tree of course. I had never in my life eaten a ripe fig off a tree. Turns out when your neighbor's tree overhangs your fence and they  show minimal interest on the horizon in the plump round ripening green orbs, well now life is in your favor. damn fresh figs are good. I gave myself a belly ache three days in a row to the point I had to actually physically remove myself from under the tree for lack of any self-control over fig consumption. A love-hate (read love-love) situation.