It was a perfect spring today. Lots of sunshine, a slight breeze and a blue sky made me think about hanging wash out to dry. At my grandmother’s house in Pennsylvania, it was one of the few chores that I really enjoyed. Fighting stiff sheets in the breeze while trying not to swallow the wooden clothespins grew into a talent. I loved grabbing the pins and stuffing them into the swinging bag. My cousins and I would race to the finish. In Manhattan, we had a clothesline strung from our fifth floor apartment across the airshaft to a friend’s apartment in the opposite building.The clothes dried, but not much could be said for their cleanliness, and if you missed grabbing a pair of underwear, they were lost forever. To my knowledge, no one had ever safely navigated the bottom of the air shaft. It would be like an archeological dig.These photos taken at the children’s garden in the Memphis Botanic Garden sum up the experience and beauty for me. I think we’d help ourselves and our planet if we resurrected wash lines.
An old two story farmhouse sits along the roadside in central Florida. At one time, it must have been quite a home , the clues are in the ornate trim and that it has two stories.Caged behind a barbed wire fence, it cries out to be preserved. I dressed it in spring colors to help its appeal. I’d love to peek behind its shuttered windows and learn more of its story.
Borrowing a rowboat filled with Chihuly glass that I shot in St.Louis several years ago, adding some spice and playing around freely, provided my imagination with the perfect mode of transportation. Whimsical and fragile during the day, it would sail powered only by a deep breath. At night, after settling into it carefully, we would glide through the sky and out twinkle the stars until sunrise would lead us home. A perfect vehicle for imaginary journeys, and it’s free.
Take a quiet, rainy, gray Saturday morning with little ambition.Add a bit of a bridge shot in IR, layer a watercolored paper towel,then an invert filter . Hopefully this results in a dreamy garden landscape. Like cooking but with less mess and zero calories, it’s just as satisfying. Enjoy!
From the highway, I’ve admired and desired ( so I’m a little strange) this abandoned warehouse with the bright red doors for a number of years. Sometimes it’s hard to know why one day you are compelled to act. But, the other day , a good friend and I , circled and drove around until we found our way. Surrounded by trucking companies and a smattering of traffic, it appeared safe for a daytime exterior shoot. Indoors is another chapter and it’s going to take more guts and a group for me to attempt it. The structure has retained most of its integrity – light fixtures, high ceilings, and its heavy red doors remain nearly whole. As I wandered the property, I could imagine so many uses that it makes me sad to think it stands empty.
Another refugee from the hard drive crash. This photo was shot through the window of one of the few Victorian houses remaining in Memphis. Slated to be restored, it waits silently for its fate. The photo has undergone a bit of transformation in this newer version. I gave it a more ethereal, softer, and out of time look. I hope this majestic home remains safe.
Rusted panels and silhouette sunset shots make great companions. Playing in layers gave me several images. I’ve posted both because although one feels more ethereal, making decisions is beyond me. I’d love to know what you think.
A Friday afternoon in my favorite bookstore was the perfect time to celebrate the end of a busy week. I couldn’t resist the strawberry cupcake with pink icing beckoning to me from the display case. One part of my brain complained about the number of calories; the other told me I deserved to treat myself special.So I did. Enjoying the first bite, I noticed how the pink cake looked against the red pleated paper wrapper. I grabbed my phone and received a number of strange looks as I took several shots. While the cupcake lasted a bit longer because of the impromptu photo shoot, the main benefit was giving myself permission to indulge without guilt. That’s not always so easy to do, but it often meets unspoken needs.
On a recent Saturday night, sitting on the floor in the suicide zone at roller derby kept me entirely engaged. Shooting photos and trying not to end up as skate-kill , I wanted to try something different. The last time I shot roller derby, the photos were gritty, high contrast , and in black and white.The focus was on fishnet stockings and scars. Both of us have changed. The derby is trying uniforms to present a more sports- like focus.I wanted to convey the beauty of motion, so I panned, banished the flash, and moved whichever way pleased me at the moment. I’m curious to hear your opinions.