A place I want to be

There is simply too much that I want to say about this photo. My husband and I live for finding small off beat eclectic towns. We visit local coffee shops, we read every thing posted on the community boards, we marvel at color, and people with dreadlocks who wear lots of colors. Truth be told, it is where we feel most alive, most at home. Graffiti about ending war, giant billboards that advertise peace, barefoot kids, all of it energizes something at the core of me. It wasn’t always this way. There was a time I longed for suburbia. I wanted nothing more than to keep up with my suburbia neighbors. I aspired to live in places with large homes, and SUV’s. I wanted the life where socializing happened over expensive meals. I then discovered, all of that simply was not me. My soul is filled with color and vibrancy. It is filled with depth and something more than what I was trying to be – normal. I, am not normal. And I love not being normal. I love that local coffee shops and brightly colored buildings thrill me. I love that I do not truly wish to have a well manicured lawn, or a car that does not rattle, and overheat endlessly in the summer. I want to fit in places that I feel at home, not in which I have to become something I am not. In my life, all to often, I let myself become something I was not – I lost color, I lost vibrancy, I lost my soul. I’m finding it again, finally, in the colorful off beat towns, that I would not have been brave enough to venture in previously, out of fear that they could actually change me…. Little did I know, that my fears were all correct, towns like this did change me.

30

Today I turn 30. I wanted to find a photo that somehow represented this milestone. When I was 18 I had a group of friends, who I never thought I would celebrate a future birthday with out. At 21, I was the recipient of a big surprise party, lots and lots of college friends. Some of those friends are still in my life, but the other 50 or so? I’m not so sure. I turned 25 and had a group of friends, including women who were my bridesmaids, and thought that these were certainly life long friends. A couple of them are still around.. Last year I had a packed house and an invite list of over 60 people, and I thought they would all be in my life for years to come. A few of them remain as well, but many have gone their separate ways.  This birthday has been hard in that aspect. While I have a few good and wonderful friends, I’ve also lost a lot of people, especially this past year. I’ve also changed a lot. I have been terribly sad about this, and then this morning while preparing with my husband for the days birthday activities I thought about all of those faces, the ones that were in my life for a moment in time. The ones I thought I’d know forever.  I wonder what it would be like to simply be at peace that these people were a part of my life for a while, and it’s ok that they are no longer. They make up the history of my life, and my future, will continually change, mold and shape, and for each of those steps, the faces may change. In the end though, they will all make up the fabric of my life, be it a short time, or many years. I’ve been on this Earth for 30 years, I continue to change and evolve and discover who I am. This is not a process to mourn any longer, but one to celebrate. Those faces represent fabric, not loss. They represent places I’ve been. And they represent the few who have remained through it all, and that today is what I love. Life is beautiful, indeed.

Mom & Son

I was visiting with a good friend, she was kind enough to let me photograph her perfect little boy. This is one of my favorite photos. The pure joy that both mom and son expressed in the company of one another was uplifting and hopeful in millions of ways. It continually impresses me that a child can have the ability to bring such joy into the world, that a smile alone can change a moment, a day, a lifetime for the better. The magic of it all is that it is not because of something the child knowingly does, it is from something much deeper and profound than action, it’s something that only comes with the innocence and beauty of being young.

In the sun

The brilliance of the sun, never ceases to amaze me. I started taking photos out of relief of depression, I’d walk and take photos, of anything. This particular photo was after one of those days in which I was escaping with photography. But this photo was taken from the parking garage in our building, I pulled into our space and noticed the entire garage was illuminated in red. This feeling of warmth ran through me and I decided that the sun was trying to convey something to me… Perhaps in the starkness of life, such as a parking garage, there out beyond it all is beauty. I took this photo when I needed color the most, when I was convinced that color had left my life, and I would remain confined. It is freeing to know that a sunset can change the world, in a simple, unexpected moment.

more than a photo

This photo seems as though it was a life time ago. Another place, another time, another me. When I took this photo I still believed in God, in a rather profound and unwavering way, I’d almost call it an arrogant kind of way. When I took this photo I had a set of friends I never though I’d be with out. When I took this photo I thought I knew a lot about life, about how it worked. When I took this photo I thought I knew the direction my life was heading. This bright orange flower in the checkered vase at the time was a moment captured, a seemingly insignificant moment, but now, now it becomes a brief illustration of the life I had, the life I never want to return too. It was in the times that I thought I had it all together, it was in the times that I thought I knew most of the answers, it was in that time in which I was most miserable. Life, I’ve found out since, is not meant to be figured out, just discovered.

Behind the unknown.

There we were, walking amidst a small jungle, outside of our suburban town. As we walked amongst the leaves and flower, a little girl appeared. She was in awe of the life size leaves, most of which were larger than she was. She stepped cautiously but with great curiosity into the unknown world. Today, I feel like this little girl. Filled with wonder I step cautiously around the larger than life possibilities that surround me, but I do so with great curiosity, for at this moment the tragedy would be to not discover what is behind the unknown.

Fibonacci Flowers

I am a geek. I saw this flower, and immidietly began to notice the  Fibonacci sequence that it possesess, especially toward it’s center.  I never was a math person in school. But they never, ever, taught me that math was found in flowers. Imagine if we were taught with an awareness of beauty, with a great realization that things, at least most things have order. If instead of learning the proper punctuation we were instead introduced to poets who never used such things. If instead of calculus we marveled at flowers, instead of memorizing rock formations we went and photographed them. If my high school algebra book had a flower on the front of it, rather than an equation, I would have fallen in love with math. When I looked at this flower, I saw order, I saw beauty, I saw math, in the way it should be.

Goldfish crackers

Carrboro, North Carolina is quickly becoming one of my favorite places. It could be the weekly outdoor music concerts on the lawn of a a food co-op , or the ice cream parlor with rocking chairs out front, or that on the particular day we first went, there were dozens of children hula-hooping to live music, most wearing no shoes. Each Sunday the entire town gathers on the lawn of “Weaver St. Market” a wonderful co-op store in the center of town. Children, adults, grandparents, college kids, all congregate and share Sunday brunch together. Blankets line the lawn, dogs play catch, Moms nurse their babies. It’s something out of a book, a really good book. In the midst of all that was going on that particular Sunday a little girl wandered from blanket to blanket, greeting the people who sat on them and asking them if they had an goldfish crackers. She finally found the magic picnic basket that contained them, and was encouraged to help herself to them. Imagine that, a place in this country where a child can wander through strangers in search of goldfish crackers, all to be greeted with smiles and a handful of crackers. I wonder what makes a town become that way. How a town of people can collectively be kind and loving and caring, enough so that a 3 year old little girl feels safe and secure enough to travel through a field of blankets and people asking for what she wants most.

Carousel

It was a December night, and my husband and I decided to go to a holiday lights drive, the kind where they make canopies out of lighted snowflakes and various holiday characters wave to you in lighted animation. I love lights, I have since I was a little girl. Something about them makes me feel hopeful inside. The collective effort of all of those lights making something illuminate on a cold December night, is nothing short of magical. We slowly drove through the festival of lights, until we reached the “end” sign. However, it was hardly the end, because at the end, on this cold December night was a carnival. We got out of the car and walked over to the nearly abandoned carnival, and watched as the few people who were there enjoyed funnel cakes and corn dogs. In the center of it all, was a carousels. I have a love affair with carousels, something about the simplicity of them brings such joy to my soul, I can hardly contain myself when I see one. This carousel on this particular cold December night, in the midst of a trying time was the simplistic joy that I had missed and longed for.

Lizzie

It always amazes me how small babies are. I know this seems absurd, babies, are supposed to be small, right? When I met Lizzie for the first time, she was on this earth for one month. She entered 4 weeks early, and weighed less than 5 pounds. Holding her, felt like holding weighted air. Her entire being was delicate and precious. She was the most fragile creature I had ever gazed upon, and there she was so anxious to come into the world, working so hard at growing. What if we simply were anxious to be a part of this world, stopping and loving the moments we are here, grasping as much as we can, as quickly as we can, and falling in love with every single moment.