grey cottage studio

Beautiful People. Strobist Lighting. Using a Softbox, for the first time.

2012-01-06T17:27:00.000-08:00

Here are some of the portraits I made in December, for my final project in the lighting class I took (and LOVED).

I understand being reluctant to pose, to have the lens turned my way. I feel more comfortable behind the lens, seeing the beauty in others, and neglecting to look more closely at myself.

And I know my friends are like that too.

That's why I wanted to make portraits of them.

Start the Year Outside. And other resolutions.

2012-01-01T17:59:00.000-08:00

I resolve:
- to do fewer dishes
- to get out more
- to have more artist dates
- to write more
- to worry less
- to be kinder to myself
- and to others

I resolve:
- to run faster and longer and more often
- to spread my wings and take more chances

I resolve:
- to keep taking pictures of people, places and things that I love
- to eat less meat, less sugar and just less
- to focus on the good, because there's plenty to focus on

bathroom dilemna

2011-11-23T13:03:00.000-08:00

Here's the inspiration picture, where I found the irridescent square tiles:

If you look at the shower wall, you can see them. Somewhere, I had a bigger picture, but you get the idea.

Here's my bathroom in progress, in natural light, during the day. The contractor assures me that when grouted, the subway tiles will read more as a solid surface, without any of the lines.

And here's the "feature wall" between bath and shower. Do you think the small guys work? I was afraid that it didn't look right. Although, I like it better in pictures, I think.

Inside the shower, with the light on.

Here, you can see the shower floor. Floor of the room is large grey tiles. Shower has little slate tiles.

Oh, and that will be the master closet and the linen closet.

Here's the shower, where the two styles meet. Looks weird, right?

yellowy from the light -- but you get the idea.

Possible alternative -- that little square would be all over the wall there. Either in clear glass or tumbled glass.

with the light on.

Possible alternative? Do you like the blue/grey tiles here for the wall between bath and shower? Top rows are glassy and shiny, bottom rows are tumbled and matte.

Is everything all right? I MISS MY pictures of the family…….love, mom

2011-11-20T20:47:00.000-08:00

Well, mom. Here we are this week:

man, this is getting hard core

2011-11-10T19:43:00.000-08:00

From my class today.

Oh, I love it.

Can't afford to get all of the crazy equipment they're talking about at this point, but it's so much fun.

Can't even wrap my brain around some of the stuff she's talking about. But today, there was a black seamless, and a light stand, a pocket wizard and a grid (and talk of snoots). So much fun.

Oh Really? What I Learned from my old Journals

2011-10-26T19:29:00.000-07:00

My mom handed me a pile of books and pictures. Here, she said, it's a few of your things I thought you would like. Four journals -- fifth grade, 7th/8th grade, 11th grade and one from my semester abroad during my senior year in college, some love letters from my first boyfriend and a jumble of pictures from my childhood. I spent an emotional late night in the guest room of my mom's new house, with the door closed, reading, crying, laughing, remembering while the kids all slept and Mark was back at our house. There was so much there to think about, but I haven't processed it all yet. Here's just one observation about those girls.

This girl wrote: "I am so ugly and dumb. I am so ugly and dumb. I am so ugly and dumb." And she underlined it a bunch of times, because she felt so badly about the spelling group she was in.

This girl (on the left) thought she was too fat for a bikini and oh so desperately wanted a boyfriend and to be popular.

This girl loved her adventure in Europe. She was so broke, and so enthralled by everything she ate, drank and saw. "I had something wonderful tonight -- it was a mix of chick peas, lemons, garlic all mixed together and served with pitas. I loved it!" It must have been hummus, and it sure made a good first impression. She wanted to see the world, she thought her life was a big adventure. She felt like she had nothing to lose by trying.

I think about these girls and how they formed the woman I have become. I still feel so timid about my abilities and being vulnerable.

This woman is afraid of what will happen if she says her dreams out loud.

I want to go back to talk to those other girls and tell them not to be so afraid and I want to talk to that college girl to remember what it felt like to be so fearless and confident.

I feel like this woman better set some high goals, and then achieve them to do those other girls proud. Be bold!

The more I photograph, the less I photograph.

2011-10-22T05:06:00.000-07:00

If that makes any sense.

Last weekend I completed my second Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, schlepping 39 miles around Manhattan over two days in very good company. Almost every walker has a camera, and there were a few DSLRs slung around necks for the duration. Not me. I just can't.

I decided from the start to pack only my iphone, pick some fun hipstamatic settings (all of the post is set before you take the shot) and just get what I got. People who borrowed my camera to take our picture wondered what the heck I was up to. You can't really see the whole frame through the shutter and it takes almost a minute (gasp!) for the image to pop up. In the end, I had a great two days, my back was healthy (though my feet are a mess) and I got some pictures I liked and frankly, some that were crap.

On Monday, I was back at it, scrambling to do my assignment for my flash class. Manual settings, flash settings, bouncing, diffusing, posing, shooting. More on that later.

Do you take your big guns everywhere? If not, what's plan B?

Self Reflection.

2011-10-13T19:00:00.000-07:00

I was in the city today for Lighting Class #2. Lots learned there. Head still spinning. Brain happy to be fed.

After class, I had a half hour before catching my train. I love shooting in NYC, because you can practically put a camera in someone's face and no one really looks twice. They all think you're a tourist or a dork (which they think are interchangeable). I was playing with all of the great reflections and the street traffic. Parked myself in front of a bank and shot away with the trusty hipstomatic app on my iphone. I kind of like the challenge of having all of the post production constraints put on you before you even shoot. Anyway, a series.

"Does this bank make my butt look big?"

Digital Flash Class -- Lighting Day 1

2011-10-12T07:39:00.000-07:00

Today, I think I'll post about the digital flash class I'm taking at the ICP in NYC. I don't know my way around lighting at all. I understand the properties of natural light, and love it, but I have been in situations where it would have been great to take a picture, but even with the ISO cranked way up and the aperature wide open, it was too dark or things were grainy and blurry. A friend recommended this class, so here I go.

Our first assignment was to study the fall-off of light as get further back. And so, with the exposure set manually to f.56, 1/200th ISO 200, I played with the exposure compensation and distance from the white wall. You can see how quickly the white wall goes grey, when it is not lit. Please not, these pics are not for their compositional glory -- we had to compose it as shown. The only variables were distance from the wall and exposure compensation. Pretty dramatic differences, even though they all look terrible!

How being a people pleaser cost me $1,005.

2011-10-04T14:37:00.000-07:00

I'm doing some soul searching because this one was expensive.

I was rear-ended. Jack and I were waiting at a light and boom, we lurched and crashed. We were fine. I hopped out of the car, shaken, and looked at my bumper. "I'm so sorry," said a well-dressed guy who hopped out of the shiny black Mercedes behind me, "I was looking at my..." he trailed off. We're okay, I said, scanning the bumper. It just looks like a few scratches. His license plate was dented. Really, I said, I think it's just a little scratch. Don't worry about it.

He smiled. He thanked me. He apologized. He left.

I took the car in today and the damages total $4,095. I have to pay the $1,000 deductible and the insurance company covers the rest. I feel like such a fool for not getting his information, and I have to ask myself, why didn't I?

I think it's because I'm a people pleaser.

I can't help it, but I have a need to be liked, to be easy-going, to get along. I've had it for a long time. In fact, my mom just gave me some old journals and in eighth grade, I wrote "I want to be popular" over and over again. Sometimes I find it hard to outgrow that feeling, even though I'm not really attracted to friendships with the alpha girls. I can still spot them in the preschool pick-up, the PTO, the spin class. I hate to take it back to eighth grade but it happens. Growing up, I was not the most popular girl by any stretch, but I had certainly had friends, of both sexes (my other journal theme). There's a part of me that wants to fit in, but really, I'm also so much more comfortable a little on the edge. My friend Sam once said that she thought our group of friends found each other because we were all a little outside the mold of our preppy midwestern college. I took that as a compliment, but I also worried that too much of my weirdness was showing.

Oh, the $5? A rude cashier over-charged me. I sort of thought so, but I doubted myself instead of her, and just took her word for it.

It's exhausting, and expensive.

My Mom Spoils Me

2011-10-03T18:31:00.000-07:00

We had a four day weekend for Rosh hashana and I took full advantage. I pulled up to the middle school with the car packed, an Ernest marathon in the DVD player and a bag of healthy-ish snacks and within minutes we were heading south on I-95 toward Delaware. My mom lives with her boyfriend in Bethany Beach. The first two days felt like summer, with temps in the high 80s, warm enough for an ocean swim and afternoon at the beach. Saturday cooled down, so we drove to Assateague to explore on rented bikes and see some of the famous wild horses.

But that's not how she spoils me.

She makes dinner. She won't let me touch a dish. She scoops up laundry before it hits the floor. She loves my kids. She reads them stories and sits on the floor to see what they're drawing or playing on the laptop. She saves magazines she thinks I'll like. She makes me coffee in the morning. She listens to my stories. She cries when I go.

I suppose you could say, she mothers me.

Jonesing for the Country

2011-09-18T19:46:00.000-07:00

I just finished Josh Kilmer Purcell's witty book, The Bucolic Plague, and since then I've had the craving for a country house. The work load he describes does not make me long to actually be a farmer however. So today, despite some whining, moaning and general obstinacy, Mark & I insisted on a FUN FAMILY farm trip. We're holding off on our annual apple picking until we're a bit closer to Halloween so it was off to my favorite meticulously clean and organized farm, Stone Barns.

I couldn't decide if this shot was about the grass and the sheep:

or the sky.

You know the ending. Everyone had a good time in spite of themselves. It just warms me to see Jack on the grass calling to the chickens instead of on his belly watching a tv show.

Good ideas for a beautiful fall garden. If only.

Max forgot his sweater, so I lent him mine. We called him Granny.

There was an odd toilet though, sadly not pictured. You dropped a pile of wood shavings on top of your business and then closed the lid. When I opened the lid, it was filled to the brim with clean looking, non-smelly shavings. Quite a shock, and sort of a revelation. It was like peeing in a hamster cage. Sorry, TMI, I know.

Voracious. My reading choices.

2011-09-11T19:01:00.000-07:00

I keep a side bar of the books I've read all year as a way of keeping track for myself. I read rather voraciously, and as you can tell, my selections are all over the place. My friends and I often trade book recommendations and I tend to forget all but the last two or three, so the list helps.

I got my Kindle last Christmas and I read now more than ever. I love having a book at my fingertips at all times with the option to impulse buy to my heart's content.

Hence, this entry. I just had to laugh at myself.

I read two really heavy books on Auschwitz recently (Mark asked if there was any other kind) and I needed something frothy to follow up. I went with I'm with the Band by Pamela Des Barres, the self-proclaimed world's most famous groupie which led right into Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton and Me by Pattie Boyd. Pamela Des Barres wins for biggest hippie and Pattie Boyd for most lonesome, though she does remind us constantly that three of the world's greatest love songs were written for her.

If you look at it, I have quite a few celebrity memoirs over there, which is my Kindle's fault. They're generally like long people magazine articles and at the end, the Kindle gives you a few more recommendations. A few clicks later and Rob Lowe has made way for Rosie O'Donnell. It's a slippery slope.

What are you reading these days? Do you read celebrity memoirs?

On the town. A poem, for my friends.

2011-09-06T18:34:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday we went to a goth Mexican restaurant
With friends we really like. Helen & Ron.
We do double-dinner-and-a-movie dates.

Anyway, the waiter caressed Helen's shoulder as he walked by.
She was blushing.
I don't think that's happened to me.
At least, not in a really long time.

Today's pictures are just my last gasp of summer. Now, as my friend Jane said, it's one for the books.

Yes, I blog. And, you can see us vacationing. [I promise not to do this daily]

2011-09-01T18:59:00.000-07:00

Well, that was interesting.

Mark outed me.

I've had this blog for several years now, but I really don't tell anyone about it in my face-to-face life. I'm kind of shy about my creative output. Always have been. Probably why I take lessons instead of putting up a shingle. My creative stuff always seemed a combination of sacred -- I don't want to take anything away from the joy I get from making things -- and in a way, frivolous. I've heard people say they fear that everyone will think he or she's a fraud, applied to all sorts of things, even their relationships. For me, I can feel that way about my work. I'm trying to get past it though, because the grass really is so much greener.

Anyway, what I intended to talk about was France. We were there for one day in early August. Seems like a lifetime ago. We took a boat, a train, a bus and then walked to get to a nice restaurant and have some pizza. Then, we did it all in reverse and spent a few hours on the beach. I was crying on the inside because one afternoon is not enough, however, I put on my game face and made the most of it.

Oh, in case you wondered, same thing applies to wearing a Lands End tankini on the beach in Villafranche, France. Yeah, you feel like you're wearing a track suit.

Other lessons we learned about kids and European travel:
1- When in doubt, find a beach
2 - Pizza, bread and butter -- kids consider this a great meal. Oh, but forget about getting butter in Italy. They look at you like you asked for vegemite.
3 - A soda a day can go a long way. Collecting the cans makes cheap souvenirs, though you go home with a suitcase full of recycling. Especially painful if your airline charges $75 extra baggage fees.
4 - Kids love money. Let them look at the coins, marvel at the cost of things, do the exchange rates.
5- 11 year-old boys did not seem to notice the topless girls. Hmmm... I think they might regret that.
Mark to Max: "This must be a very poor country."
Max: "Huh?"
Mark: "Because the girls can only afford the bottoms of their bathing suits."
6- I think we need more naked man statues in the U.S. Might lighten everyone up a little.

At one point this weekend, I was in a room with five German Shepards and there were two guys in the basement making bullets.

2011-08-29T21:24:00.000-07:00

Family.

We opted for a last minute escape-from-Irene and headed northwest to see Mark's sister's family near Syracuse. Can't believe it took us a hurricane to get there -- somehow years have passed since we made that 4-1/2 hour trek. That's just too long, right? Now, I'm sure they could post some similar wide-eyed kind of statement when they visit us in the NYC burbs. But really, it was funny.

My SIL's boyfriend trains police dogs and used to be a US Marshall so Max and Alex were just about in Nirvana. He gifted them with some real police targets to be taped on trees here and used with their plastic bb's. Their saucer-sized eyes just glowed when he showed them the dent in his calf where he took a bullet and I bet one of them wet their pants when he showed them his guns.

When I was a kid, our only out-of-town family trips were to my dad's hometown in Reynoldsville, PA. Things seemed so exotic up there. People burned their trash in the back yard, called soda "pop" and knew everyone in town, plus everyone from the three previous generations. My grandmother's boyfriend (for 50 years), Clutch, was a retired coal miner who owned a car wrecking company though my grandmother claimed he just "loafed" all day and spit. He and my grandmother lived three miles apart and he came to her house daily for dinner and stayed to watch the news. He would take my brother and I over to the junkyard and let us poke around some of the wrecks and get bottles of coke from the machine. He took my brother for illicit rides on his dirt bike and only had Clark bars, beer and cheese in his refrigerator. He taught us to play Black Jack for pennies and always offered my parents a shot and a piece of cheese when they came to watch the Pirates games.

I loved every minute of it.

And I'm so glad we got to visit my niece and SIL and her boyfriend who filled my kids heads with all kinds of intrigue and adventure. And the cousins, who never see each other, warmed up and actually laughed and goofed around together. We got to go the state fair and Jack sat on a cow, which rocked his little world. And I almost entered a calf raffle, but then I saw the woman standing behind the cow catching its poop in a bucket and figured I'd stick to goldfish.

(here is Jack sitting on said cow)

I think that's the country girl that lives inside me somewhere.

We just don't get those velvet black skies down here in the NY metro.

I thought I deleted Barcelona.

2011-08-23T16:57:00.000-07:00

Actually, I deleted Barcelona, Nice and VillaFrache, France. Somehow I erased a memory card too soon. But, in my post-travel delirium, I made a copy on iphoto. I have been primarily using Lightroom as my archiving, organizing program, but since iphoto opens every time I put in a memory card ("pick me! pick me!" it fairly shouts) I guess I imported there too.

Sorry for the vacation photos overkill, but I have thousands of photos and I have a few, ahem, new readers. (Hi Mom! Hi Aunt Debbie!). And so, more Barcelona.

But quickly, so I remember, a few observations.

* They do sell chocolate milk, but everyone looked at us askance when we asked for it cold.
* Sorry, second trip to Spain, and I'm still not a big fan of the food. And this is from an anchovy lover.
* Spanish people dress their children beautifully. Not that nylon/polyester track shorts and t-shirts from Target aren't chic.
* Spanish people were much nicer to us this trip -- it was all about the kids.
*Open air food markets are generally awesome. Better than restaurants.
* Europeans take much longer to eat. I think my hair grew a bit waiting for the check sometimes.
* Kids don't have a language barrier with other kids. Jack was in the playground talking to a little girl in English, she spoke to him in Spanish and they were still fast friends.
* I love a city that loves dogs. I think it's because it reminds me of NYC.
* If you wear a Lands End tankini on a beach in Barcelona, you will feel like you are wearing a bathing suit from the roaring '20s compared to the women of all shapes and sizes somehow looking comfortable in two pieces or less.
* Spanish coffee (espresso) is as good as Italian. And that is high praise.

Going to Europe with Kids.

2011-08-22T05:02:00.000-07:00

Here's the thing. You have to remember it's Europe with Kids and not Europe with your husband or your college friend and a backpack. The agenda changes. Cut back on the art museums, and think castles, cannons and daggers. Instead of long espresso break in the cafe, think a few hours at the beach, whether you're prepared for that beach day or not. More time in souvenir shops pricing out souvenir crap and less time in boutiques with espadrilles. And you know, in the end, you realize you just saw the city in a different way, and that's part of the journey too.

It reminds me of something Bill Mahrer once said -- "Kids. I don't want kids. What? Do you want to learn your colors again?"

Yes, Bill. I do.

jump in. Barcelona.

2011-08-21T15:54:00.000-07:00

I'm so far behind, I don't know where to begin.

If you stop posting, does the blog still exist? If no one posts, but no one's looking, does it matter?

Whatever.

Summer, as usual, has sped by. Less than three weeks until school starts, and I'm filling with dread. Just thinking about getting back on that crazy treadmill of pick up, drop off, homework, lessons, tightly packed mornings -- ugh. Summer vacation rules.

We spent 17 days of this summer in Europe. Gulp. Yep. It was pretty awesome. I have a moving-to-Europe for a few years fantasy. I have quite a few ex-pat friends who were here for a few years and I so envy their chance to drop into another culture for a bit and then dash on home.

The thousands of photos can overwhelm me. Come September, I'll have more quiet computer time, but now, I have to get it in bits when I can. So, here's a few from Barcelona on our big adventure.

I love the little black bathing suit we bought Jack in France.

I was imagining the phone conversation here. "please pick me up. I can't take the metro today."

Big milestone to travel abroad with a kid with so many food allergies. Biggest stressor was on the return flight when they handed out the peanuts to half of the plane before reaching our row. I hadn't thought of asking them to hold the peanuts. We don't know if his allergy is airborne (it appears not to be), but the allergist will only say, we don't really know. We were four hours from NY when the plane was filled with peanut smells. I was a nervous wreck and would not let Jack leave his seat. He eventually fell asleep, and soon the peanut smell faded.

We only made it to the line for the Picasso museum. Jack had one of his bathroom-issues kind of day, and there was wailing and stomach clutching in line. We had to punt. (this guy was not at the museum, just outside a shop. We were scared to touch him b/c we were convinced he was a mime. Alex took this picture and he also videotaped my freaked out approach.)

watching people watching pictures

2011-07-16T08:10:00.000-07:00

I love to go to art museums alone. Sometimes I get lonely, when it's time to have a cappuchino in the cafe -- so much better with husband, friends or kids -- but when it's time to wander and soak it in, I like to feel like I'm almost invisible.

Last night, I went to the Met. I wanted to watch the people watching the art, since I just saw some great photos of that....somewhere. Forgot my camera, but had my new little iphone. It's not the same as my camera, not even close, but it's okay to play with.

First, pictures of people looking at paintings that matched their outfits. I am going to go back and explore this idea further. It was surprisingly easy to find, and it amused me to no end. I love having a little mission in mind.

In this case, it matched her hair.

Next, a little hipstomatic time with the Greeks. (they might have been Romans -- I didn't read the tags). I'm imagining the sculpters enticing the young models to take off their clothes for the session. It may have been like an ancient casting couch.

here's how it is today.

2011-07-05T06:54:00.000-07:00

We're home from Maine (back on Friday) and it's very quiet. Max & Alex are at camp through July 23rd (4 weeks) and it's strange, but kind of nice and kind of sad. We got the chance to talk to them yesterday though, and they sounded very busy and happy while we were mostly doing chores around here and reading and taking walks -- things that make the boys crazy. They get to choose their weekly schedule and I had to laugh that Alex chose snorkeling. In a lake. Yuck. Why not go for waterskiing? I don't know. His favorite thing, of course, is riflery. He enclosed some folded up, shot-up targets in his one letter home.

Max was teary when we left him, but he sounded much better, didn't mention coming home. Though he did suddenly sound a little desperate when we said we'd speak in a week. I do write them daily, which we all like. It's really kind of fun, writing to your kids. I put stickers in for their trunks and hunt for dorky postcards and dumb greeting cards that they think are funny and usually I wouldn't buy. Max asked for a larger memory card for his camera. And he was gearing up for a huge game of Stealth (sort of like ghost in the grave yard or nighttime hide & seek) that night.

Jack is adjusting quite well to his solo gig, I think. He really enjoys being the only child and having free reign over the computer and choice of tv show. I think he's enjoying his break from attending everyone else's lessons/games/shows/practices. He's still asleep right now (his bedtime has inched later) but when he wakes up - ha! camp starts for him today. I think it's a good thing we didn't have an only child. I think we would be too indulgent to be good at it.

My life went from hysterically mad in June to nice and slow in July with a whiplash speed. Now I'm having trouble revving up again. As you can imagine, I have put together quite a list of things I will accomplish while the boys are away. So far, I've checked off "unpack."

my besties

2011-07-01T06:02:00.000-07:00

24 Years ago, or so, I met my best friends. We didn't click on the same day, we kind of tumbled together and stuck through four years of college. I remember those days so fondly it sometimes aches. We did crazy things and we had each other's backs like nobody's business. Most of all, we laughed and really, we just loved each other. I now see these girls (they will always be girls) once a year, when I'm lucky. We email and talk, but not all that often. The great world spins. We hang on.

This year, we met in New Orleans, LA for a four day weekend. One of us couldn't make it (the past decade has been dotted with pregnancies, babies -- those things that keep you home) but she will always be there in spirit.

For four days, we regressed. Counseled. Laughed. Cried (that was only me, I think) and of course sang, danced and caroused until the wee hours. We are a lot of fun, doncha know.

These are my besties.

It's rough out there sometimes.

2011-06-09T08:48:00.000-07:00

Tuesday. Ouch.

Finally had my 504 meeting with the school to get my son the accommodations I know he needs. I've been fighting for this meeting for years, knowing that his writing just wasn't there. But still. It's hard to see the work laid out, to hear it all from a table of experts, to think about how hard it must be for him. He has dysgraphia and ADD. I know, I know, there are tons of worse things, but that doesn't mean I want this one.

Two hours later, I took Jack to the allergist to get the results from his latest test. Not only were all of his numbers up (the list is long, but the short version is: nuts, peanuts, sesame, eggs), but there were more on the list: fish, trees and grasses. Oh, and we got our first rescue inhaler because he seems to have acquired allergy-induced asthma this spring. He can't eat so many foods, and it's a life-threatening consequence if he does. Another eating issue. Why is eating so difficult for so many of us? Evolution still has some work to do there.

So many things to be thankful for, which should be my next post, but I'm wallowing here. The kids didn't see me cry in the car. We do have so many blessings, and oh Lord, life can be so much worse. But sometimes, I just have to acknowledge that it can suck, and then move on.

busy, and yet.

2011-06-02T19:44:00.000-07:00

You would never guess that I was busier than a one-armed paper hanger these days. I should be sleeping right now. I've been to the city twice this short week and am heading back tomorrow. Two boys need camp trunks packed. Everyday more slips come home in the backpacks announcing a new celebration/show/picnic/envelope-opening that we should attend. My suitcases still are in the attic-holding area waiting to go up. We had turkey sandwiches, grapes and red beans and rice for dinner (talk about a pantry-cleaner). It's crumbling around me.

And yet.

Golden hour. That sun called me. And, for some reason, so did little robots and mushrooms. So I did that instead.

When Your Kid Puts on His Own Pull-Up, You Know You Missed a Window

2011-05-23T19:19:00.000-07:00

Ooops.

I guess this is birth-order in action.

My number three is four years old. As twins, numbers one & two had to do a lot of things on their own simply because I couldn't do it all. Now that I am parenting a singleton toddler (or little boy, whatever), I realize I can throw that twin guilt out the window, because there's a new inadequacy coming right down the track.

Today my sweet Jack began to turn into Violet Beauregard right before my eyes. First, when I refused to put his pull-up on so he could finish his morning constitution (he still has potty issues), he ran to his room, stripped down, put on the pull-up, re-dressed himself and did his thing. Later, when he yelled for me to wipe his nose for about the 20th time that day, I felt a barely contained urge to wipe it right off his face. And at bedtime, he suddenly lost that ability to dress and undress himself and danced around the room while I maniacally chased him with p.j. pants, opened so he could slide each leg in. Then it hit me: I'm creating a monster.

Tomorrow, the madness will end. The nose I wipe will be my own. Same for the shoes I put on and the pants I slide legs into. I am laughing at myself because this image clashes with the one I had of myself. Max & Alex were, by necessity, so self sufficient that I silently mocked those coddling moms. And now, I have become one.

Serves me right. I must remember to be kind both to myself, and to the other moms.

Feelin it.

2011-05-21T14:36:00.000-07:00

In my photo class this week we went through a sequencing exercise which was quite eye opening and frankly, a little bruising to my fragile ego. Our assignment was to get 40 work prints made at Adorama (learning to work with a lab) of our work-in-progress final assignment. We then brought the prints to class, spread them on a table, and the group of six sorted the photos by which ones they liked, didn't and were on the fence. Gulp.

My project centers around the life of boys, though admittedly, I have yet to really drill it down beyond that. While of course, there were nice things said, the critiques were the toughest to hear. And yet, once I was able to process things, they were spot on, and will certainly up my game. I just hate negative feedback and have never been good at it.

Here's a few of what I set on the table:

The most constructive feedback was to mix it up more. To work on new angles, new expressions, try some new lenses and new ideas. People wanted more range of motion, more details and more environment. OK, I guess it's good they wanted more. Show the struggle, someone said.

Also, many suggested to lose the b&w. Well, that's easy enough. I like b&W beacause I feel it lends a timeless feeling to the childhood images and also, frankly, because I think it's more forgiving of some of my attempts to get rid of color casts.

Anyway, on this day, I'm resolved to try some new things. I don't know that I captured the struggle, but I'll tell you this -- I'm feeling it.

Newborn session numero uno.

2011-05-19T10:17:00.000-07:00

Why do they call it a shoot? Sounds menacing when partnered with newborn. We'll go with session.

Here's delicious little James. So beautifully tiny and so brand new.

I sent an email to a mom in our preschool right after she emailed us the announcement, explaining that photography was my hobby and I would love to take some pictures of her new guys. I went over when he was seven days old, and oh my, he was just so delicious. Here's some of his loveliness.

Color correcting these was tough. I used the gold side of the reflector (mistake -- too gold) and the dark blue wall above the wainscoating cast a blue glow (see his tush). Watch the wall color and use the white side. Lesson learned.

I put his little images up on smugmug based on a recommendation from a photographer friend. Great way to get a website up quickly which links to a terrific lab. There's not much there yet, but if you care to look, here's mine: http://jilldimassimo.smugmug.com.

Next: the New Orleans trip.

To Virginia

2011-05-03T19:41:00.000-07:00

We haven't been to Virginia to visit our family there for over two years. I forgot the beauty of central Virginia in April. It was a peek into spring fast forwarded four weeks.

And you can't beat an afternoon into the Blue Ridge Mountains. (Yes, John Denver's Country Roads was a recurring theme. Kids didn't appreciate my vocals though. Philistines)

Eight hours plus each way in the moving living room we call our car. Mark drove both legs. Such a good egg. I love the 2.5 hour stretch from DC to Charlottesville, but the rest is a slog along I-95. Don't tell him, but for a while there I was behind him with the laptop open, my headphones on watching Marie Antoinette like an in-flight movie.

I really don't mind the drive, but I would love to have family close enough for Sunday dinner.

testing. Trying things on for size.

2011-04-29T20:49:00.000-07:00

I had a gig today. A shoot. I'm shooting portraits for an advertising agency's web site (I have connections). They're not sure what they wanted so today we just tested some ideas.

If you have the chance to do something like this, I recommend clarifying the brief first. Ask questions like:
- what do you want people to think about your business when they see these images?
- how will they appear (a grid, a map, filmstrip style, against white, with type at the bottom)
- what do you like/dislike about your current images?
- who is coming to this website? Who are you trying to attract?
- what's your timeline, your budget?
- what kind of access will I have to the people I'm shooting? How long?

I'm laughing, because this list makes me sound much better prepared than I was. Really, I didn't ask all the right questions. At all. But, that's ok, because today we were just testing. Trying some ideas to see what worked. I find I'm pushing myself to be perfect and of course, that won't happen.

Also, don't forget to say things like, "let me think about that and get back to you."

It was fun, exciting, nervewracking. I feel like such a rube, but I am further ahead than I was last summer, that's for sure.

Um, this background idea is so distracting. I thought it would look like his work, but it just makes you look at the pictures. (they are my kids and even me. this used to be my husband's office).

I am trying to go easier on myself.

I think I do best when I'm just prowling around documenting things rather than setting them up and posing people. These last two are my favs, me thinks.

p.s. I just love that Periodic Table of Typefaces poster on the wall here.

Whew. That was scary and thrilling, like all the best roller coasters. Except I couldn't scream.

Sidewalk Sculptures: Messenger Bikes

2011-04-15T18:26:00.000-07:00

I walked the 19 blocks from my husband's office to Grand Central and I couldn't stop shooting all of these colorful, personalized, battle-scarred beauties. They bomb around Manhattan dodging the worst kinds of traffic to get you your pizza or your package on time. I'm sure with email, messenger work is down, but they remind me of my working days and the M-F culture that's uniquely NYC.

M (10-12). Portraits.

2011-04-07T13:28:00.000-07:00

These kids live in the in-between -- not little kids anymore and not yet teenagers. They are self-aware but not too self-conscious. Their skin still glows, they work earnestly on their school work, they still think that you will always get a half-hour recess. I can vividly remember that glory of being at the top of elementary school. For the first time, I wanted clothes for my birthday instead of toys, I bought pop music and listened to it with my friends in the cafeteria and I realized that not everybody liked me. I felt on the brink of something big.

the outtakes -- shooting portraits

2011-03-12T06:34:00.000-08:00

A few of my few readers asked about taking better portraits of their kids. Here's a little more of the process for the low key portraits I posted in my previous post.

I shot these while we were in California for vacation, specifically in a hotel room in Marina del Ray. I took some 1,100 photos that week and the ones in the previous post are my favs, and not all of those are even CA week, so, it helps to take a lot of photos. However, I have gotten much better at considering the shot before pressing that shutter. I know it's digital, but still who wants to pan all those and search for the gold?

For the images of the boys in dark shadows, I was looking for that perfect window light. The dark brown wall in the background and the strong window light worked for that chiaroscuro look I love. Seeing the beautiful light is the cliche, and the truth for getting the best pictures. I moved the chair, moved the fish statue in the background and closed the sheer curtain on the window. Then, I asked the boys (or rather begged them) to please, please sit in the chair so I could take their pictures for my class. They are rather used to this, and are not always willing, but often will give me a minute. Other times it requires a payment (cash, candy or screen time). Because I shoot them all the time, they have stopped giving me that tight kids smile I so often get when I shoot their friends. In December, I was shooting my friend's kids and from off camera, she kept telling them to SMILE! turning their sweet expressions into tight grimaces.

As you can see, they were really dark as shot. I did all of my editing in Lightroom 3. I had to lighten things and adjust the color to tone down the reds.

Alex's orange shirt cast a bright orange glow on his face. Needless to say, my kids aren't big on the hair and wardrobe portion of the shoot. Usually, I just get what's already there, though I do try to make sure they're faces are clean. And sometimes, I miss that too.

I sometimes have trouble with the focus. I really have to watch that.

Here are two that I liked best, and that I worked on:

You can see how the post processing part is just as important as the in-camera part. I also tweaked them again during the printing process to get the colors right.

I shot Jack too, though he would only sit for about 10 seconds. You can tell he's so annoyed.

I won't punish you with more of those outtakes, though that last one makes me smile. Anyway, for that set up, I got it with relatively few outtakes, but often there are many more. I'm taking a continuing ed class and our photo teacher says if you get one picture for a roll of 36, you're doing fine.

Just for the record

2011-03-07T15:27:00.000-08:00

Hullo? Anybody home?

I have fallen off the face of blogger Earth. No reason. I just dropped the ball there for a while, and didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. I over-volunteered this month and last and was having a bit of a scramble. Still not out of the weeds, but there's hope. Always hope.

Well, even if I'm the only one who sees them, I'm posting some of the pictures from my digital 2 photography class. This class has kicked my butt a bit -- again, wishing I had more time for it -- but it's so good to be pushed out of that comfort zone once in a while.

Our first project was portraits. I started out with the idea of shooting my identical twins to capture what makes looking at twins so intriguing. I see them so much as individuals that it surprises me when people say they can't tell them apart or refer to them as "the twins." Somehow, I thought maybe I would play up the similarities though, since the similarities make them special too (and they enjoy it). But in the end, I just see them as I see them -- as individuals. And, I think, that's how these portraits turned out.

Hullo 2011. Care for a cuppa?

2011-01-08T15:44:00.000-08:00

Hullo there.

Happy new year! I've been neglecting my little blog. But sometimes that's how it goes. I have things to say, but they have not made it to this space. For one thing, our house was robbed. We were out, thankfully, and someone probably walked through the front door and collected most of our electronics, including my beloved computer. All of my pictures were on it. Thousands.

Luckily, Mark guided me into one very smart thing last August. I had everything backed up on mozy.com. It costs a little over $100 for two years of back up. Thankfully, my pictures are all floating around in cyberspace until I get a new computer. Then I hit restore, and they'll be back.

It's still a drag though on many levels. However, I really do feel that all they took from us is things. Things we can replace. They will have the bad karma. They will eventually get caught and run through the system. We will be fine. Far worse things can (and do) happen.

My new year is still happy.

The pictures I've posted here are from my latest project, a 365. That means a picture a day, for 365 days. My goals are: document daily life, improve my photography and stretch myself creatively.

My other goals revolve around sugar, veggie-filled meals, exercise -- things I haven't quite tackled yet.

three + three

2010-12-29T07:27:00.000-08:00

Three things that are dragging me down this morning:
1.Watery coffee
2. The garage runneth over with trash. Seriously, there is so much cardboard out there (I've missed the recycling a few times) that you could build a life-sized cardboard village. You have to flatten and tie into lovely twined bundles for the recycling guys to toss it in the truck, and even then, they are fickle. It's such a pet peeve of mine, but refusing to participate has gotten me nowhere.
3. There's a mouse in our house. Yuck.

Three jolly good things:
1. No homework! Again!
2. The-biggest-Christmas-tree-I-have-ever-had is still in our dining room. It will move to the tope column soon, but for now, it's still jolly good.
3. Christmas day is over, but the Christmas holiday continues. My favorite part.
4. My kindle. I have entered the 21st century, and you, know, I'm digging it.
5. My D is for DiMassimo book arrived! I made a 2010 book with an ABC theme for our family this year. It came today and I love it. I guess I'll post pictures of it later, since I can't link to the layout.

Here's a few of my little nephew Luca and his lovely parents. They wanted a family picture. Fooling around with some PS actions, which can get a little crazy, but post processing can be a jolly good thing too.

Look at that, more jolly than crabby. I'll end there.

my eyes are blurry

2010-12-21T18:29:00.000-08:00

I really think I need glasses. The eye doctor says not yet, but I don't believe him. I couldn't read a lipstick cap in Sephora today.

I get so overwhelmed by Christmas, no matter how hard I try. But wow, Christmas good is really good. It made my day to watch the two older guys who direct the carpool traffic amass little gift piles on the sidewalk as the kids and drivers opened the windows to hand them little treats.

Instead of scurrying around like a good little Christmas doobie on Sunday, I joined the boys for a hike to treasure island. It's a tiny pennisula actually, accessible by a path behind some giant McMansions and old school mansions on the sound. We always talk about taking a picnic there in summer, but hasn't happened. We should call it Tick Island, because those are the year-round residents.

Now, time to put off for today what I could put off until tomorrow.

Doesn't that wood pile inspire you? Or at least make you feel prepared?

There's a grove of gorgeous, tall bamboo along the way.

That golden grass is marsh grass. you can't walk on it without knee-high boots, low tide and a knowledge of how to escape from quick sand.

Little cabin in the woods. Seriously, it's this doll house in the way back of someone's property. I think they use it for storage, but I just love it. I would love to fix it up for a studio, a little guest cottage or love shack for teens (just checking to see if anyone reads this far).

Ho Ho Ho.

this little cupcake

2010-12-09T13:54:00.000-08:00

Many years ago, I dated a political consultant who worked for the state senate of Pennsylvania. He once told me about a state senator who walked into the room, spied a lovely young woman toiling away at her desk, eyed her lecherously and boomed, "does this little cupcake work for me?"

So Senator I-forget-your-name, here's a little cupcake.

9X12 acrylic

Put the chill back in Christmas

2010-12-03T05:34:00.000-08:00

Seriously. Let's tread lightly this year. Simple gifts, easy advent. No baking, unless I'm really inspired. Wrap along the way, in the store if possible.

My mom came home with us for a few days after Thanksgiving. I loved having her here. Helping with absolutely everything. We put lights on the trees outside, took the decorations down from the attic, moved some tables around that have been bothering me, watched the bigs while I took the little to the pediatrician, just generally being the perfect partner. She's now in Delaware, en route to Florida for the winter. With the exception of Jack, we all miss her already.

I still don't have a Christmas card photo yet and now we're flush up against super express rush charges. That will take the chill out of Christmas.

those pilgrims had more than cool hats

2010-11-30T18:29:00.000-08:00

They were also good at inventing holidays. No presents -- save a hostess gift -- and no huge commercial surge to bring on the gimmies, and I'm in. I think Easter comes in at a close second, and we'll have to thank the pagans and the Christians for that one.

We went to my brother's new house for two days, including a wonderful/stressful mini-high-school reunion. And, I annoyed everyone by taking their picture as if I were a pap stalking a starlet in rehab.

Hope yours was just as wonderful.

And now, see the twinkling lights ahead? It's that freight train we call Christmas. Look out.

the traveling nerd glasses

2010-11-22T04:20:00.000-08:00

Nancy Marino. 95 years old with her grandson Mark.

Angelo Marino. 99 years young.

what I'm getting from my class

2010-11-20T05:51:00.000-08:00

I'm taking a digital photo class at the ICP in NYC. (which in itself raises my spirits so high). Oh, I even had a midterm last week. I asked my kids to sign it so I could bring it back to the teacher this week. They sort of half believed me as they scrawled their cute signatures across the bottom. (fyi -- I got a 19/20 with points off for my ISO definition. Ha! I was robbed).

Anyway, one thing I'm getting better at is haivng an idea in my head and then actually realizing it. Sounds small, but it's big to me. The more I understand my camera and how to use it, the more it becomes an extension of me.

Anyway, inspired by a picture on flickr, I took these yesterday. Fooling around with some PS actions too, though I think it's so easy to go overboard. But, it's only pixels. And not for my exam.

one thing about a big age gap

2010-11-13T15:21:00.000-08:00

It's not always easy having two kids 6-1/2 years old than the third. But, as with everything, there are silver linings. Today I am grateful that we can still spend much of our Saturday traveling as a pack. We can all go to the cubmobile races and to lunch in our one car, on our one schedule. Sometimes it works.

In which I groan when I should be grateful

2010-11-09T10:13:00.000-08:00

As a stay-at-home mom with two kids in school all day, and one preschooler at school in 2-1/2 hour chunks, I find it's very hard to get anything accomplished. I just have small chunks of time until I'm required to pick someone up or drop them off. Even when I do have time, I feel like I have to convince the preschooler to please just get in the car or lug the whole gang with me to Target and then spend time the same amount of time convincing them to leave as I did to come with me. The older two are just on the brink of staying home alone, which I do think will make small trips much easier, and of course, they are generally super cooperative, so I really shouldn't groan. And really, what is so pressing that I just HAVE to do? That's what I can't really answer.

Of course, this too shall pass and I will be alone with scads of time some day, wishing for my little companions. And truly, I think I have ADD anyway. But sometimes, it's kind of suffocating.

The shoot

2010-11-03T19:22:00.000-07:00

P.R. shoot for the fine founders of Offlining. They needed press images and wanted a shot of the two of them among turkeys. I could think of a lot of people who would have worked well as turkeys, but we just went with the generic.

What was good: the diffused light inside the turkey shelter, the weather (not too cold), my helpers (Max & Alex pulled the feeders away and carted around my stuff), the willing, cheerful and attractive models (especially the man on the right) and my moral support, second set of eyes and shaky leg holder (thank you Tara!).

What was not: I should have listened more closely to that second set of eyes and centered the guys in the doorway more (that last picture bugs me).

I wish I had brought a bench or stools for the guys to sit among the turkeys

A shot list would have been helpful with poses and places.

Getting there before my clients would have been nice to scout a little more and plot my pics.

Next time, I will not be such a chicken, and do less on AUTO (gasp) but I was afraid that I would screw something up. I should trust myself and just take a deep breath.

Slow down.

It was fun though. And scary. Was it the hokey pokey or my Yogi tea who said it best: "that's what it's all about."

Location Scouting: shooting turkeys

2010-11-02T18:05:00.000-07:00

Did you know that 80% of the turkeys we eat are white? It's hard to find those reddish brown ones that everyone makes for their Thanksgiving hand turkeys. I'm learning all of this as I'm location scouting for my next shoot. Mark and his p.r. partner Eric have launched a new movement: offlining. They are encouraging people to turn off their electronic devices once in a while and be fully present.

They've scheduled their next p.r. blitz for Thanksgiving and need a picture of themselves among the turkeys to accompany their press. Guess who's the photographer? At first, I declined feeling way to hobbyist, but I don't think they had another photog who would do it on such short notice and so cheaply (um, pay for my babysitter).

The farm with the gorgeous heirloom reds won't let us shoot without paying a substantial big commercial shoot fee, so I found this lovely small family farm, Hemlock Hill Farm, willing to let the guys enter the pen with the turkeys. I'm kind of scared, since I'm slightly bird phobic, and I am nervous that the shots won't be what they want. I have batteries charging now and am plowing through the internet for inspiration photos, googling things like "man turkey" and "holding turkeys farm." I may keep one of my boys home from school in the morning to assist -- I might need someone to hold a reflector. Not sure if the husband will go for this, and it does take my image as a professional down a notch, but perhaps I could chalk it up to some kind of educational experience????

Wouldn't you love to live on a farm? In theory, at least? Kind of? Really, I could never handle the work actually, but I could handle the view.

slideshow template - advice

2010-10-30T15:12:00.000-07:00

No, not advice from me. I found this in the back of american Photo magazine in a little sidebar, and I thought it was worth remembering. It was a column about a workshop for creating audio slideshows. Anyway, the advice was a formula for creating a narrative template, which I thought would work well when shooting an event, in general. I find many times I prefer similar angles and shots and dof, which can work well individually, but don't always gel to tell a dynamic story.

Here is Jay Dickman's formula:
1. Establish the setting
2. Introduce characters
3. Introduce an issue or problem
4. Show details to create intimacy
5. Show moments that bring energy to the piece
6. Close the story

He also stresses that sound and images should not match exactly. I find in flickr, I tend to caption a bit literally, while I tend to enjoy the images that are enriched by the captions rather than just telling me what I'm looking at.

Anyway, there was a bit more, but as I'm a sucker for a good formula, thought I'd share it and of course, try it out.

More later, with pics.

be good to yourself

2010-10-07T17:05:00.000-07:00

I tell that to my kids, but do I do it? Not always, especially in the food dept. You know, I have to laugh at the magazine covers in December ("indulge yourself" "enjoy the season") dripping with sugary treats and cocktails and then the next month, the same books are telling you to organize, lose weight and ramp up your exercise. No wonder it all seems so dreadful.

Anyway, I have been good to myself lately, and I really think I'm a better mom/wife/friend because of it. It's easy to be the martyr, and always put yourself last. It usually feels easier (and I really think it is), but it's really not better.

And so, here are my fall treats.

1. Had my eyebrows professionally shaped and colored (I didn't say this list wouldn't be a bit silly). I feel more polished even in a ponytail & no makeup. It really does make a difference, at least mentally.

2. Re-read To Kill a Mockingbird. It's still so good and, thanks to my memory issues, it's still suspenseful.

3. Started a photography class. I finally cashed in my birthday/Christmas present and I signed up (half the battle). Digital Photography I. In NYC. Grand Central Station, crazy runs to catch my train, lunch on the go. I love taking classes, but this one also reminds me of my working girl days, in a good way. Week one, we didn't do too much, but the syllabus looks great, we even have a portfolio project due at the end of the semester. yikes. woo hoo. oy.

4. Kept walking. My long training walks are on Sunday mornings at 6:30. I get up while it's still dark and meet up with a revolving group of new-to-me women. We walk and chat for 3-1/2 hours, covering 12 miles before breakfast. It's my therapy.

What about you? What's one thing you've done for yourself lately? If you can't come up with two things, go do one!

(arg. can't upload any images for some reason. Hopefully, i"ll fix that soon.)

I did it! Raised $1875 for Breast Cancer Research

2010-09-23T06:29:00.000-07:00

Ok, please ignore my last post. I'm over it. (My kids aren't quite over it, but husband is, and kids are close).

Yesterday, one gloriously good thing happened. I reached my goal of raising $1,800 for breast cancer research. I'm actually up to $1875.

Let me just say, I'm a terrible fundraiser. I hate selling raffle tickets, gift wrap, gift cards. It just throws me out of my comfort zone. I'm not a good asker, you might say.

Anyway, I committed to walking the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, but along with it you have to raise $$. I was already composing my pitch to my husband as to why we would have to write the check to cover the balance due after my fundraising failed. Anyway, thanks to 17 uber-generous friends, I passed my goal yesterday. I'm feeling rather proud of myself, actually, with a bit of a can-do outlook today.

And, really, I do believe in the power of movements, and the movement to find a cure for breast cancer is a mighty one indeed. I have a dream too -- that some day within my lifetime, there won't be any more breast cancer fundraisers, because there will be effective prevention and a cure.

Now, back to my training!

Sometimes this Job is too Much (caution: venting and dirty laundry ahead)

2010-09-22T07:33:00.000-07:00

Sometimes this motherhood business overwhelms me. Not the kind of pain where your heart constricts because your child is hurting -- no, that's something else. The kind of overwhelming helplessness and later numbness when it just seems like you keep screwing up. Right now I'm the black shadow of the family. The dark cloud. And I don't know if it's the right thing. In a nutshell, I cancelled a family trip because I didn't want to miss my training walks. They all think I'm selfish, and you probably do too, but the decision's made and everyone's upset. It's the hour-long crying from my two older boys when I told them we weren't going that makes me vacillate from feeling sorry to feeling angry to feeling burnt.

Oh, I didn't mean to air all this dirty laundry. And I'll probably go back and delete it. But right now, I have to stop myself from spiraling into the future and imagining everyone's therapy sessions. Or stay present and bathe my little one, empty the dishwasher, do more laundry, pick up kids from school, take them to baseball, make dinner, repeat.

Perspective. It really is all it's cracked up to be.

Late August Still Life Paintings

2010-09-16T05:17:00.000-07:00

I'm getting used to cycles without my camera (broken, broken, stolen) and so I redirect my energy back into painting. I don't know what I'm doing with all of these paintings I'm amassing, but I think chiefly I'm practicing, developing and stretching my visual muscles. Here's two 8X10 still lifes. My inspiration shot was the cover of the Garnet Hill catalogue. I really love the one of the cups, but the tea/spoons turned out nicely too. Sometimes it's so much easier to paint from a beautifully lit photo than my set-ups.

Earlier in the month, I felt inspired to paint my shoes. I was breaking out of my fruit crate, so to speak, and set up my shoes instead. Initially, I had painted the background a pale yellow, but after a visit to the Met and looking at Van Gogh's portrait of his postman, I changed the background to a Kaffe Fassett fabric. I plan to do more shoes and more patterned backgrounds. This one's a little bigger-- 11X14, but still fairly small. Perhaps when Jack finally begins his full day of school (a grand total of 2-1/2 hours) I'll have some time to paint again.
Inspiration:

something happened

2010-09-14T18:52:00.000-07:00

I don't have a green thumb at all. I wish I did, because I love flowers, trees, veggie patches -- the whole nine, but gardening just hasn't hit me as hard as some of my other interests. I always have three containers out front, and I mix it up each year, trying for a spiller, a thriller and a filler. Anyway, this year, the whole thing went haywire, and I ended up with three giant containers full of beautiful, jack-in-the-beanstalk-sized coleus plants. It really amused me to no end to see my flower-ful pots turn into big leafy urns. I mean big too. I'm going to try and root some to keep them inside over the winter, since I hate to see them die after such a glorious showing.

The rest of the yard was kaput this year, but there's always next year.

Renewal

2010-09-01T05:50:00.000-07:00

You might think that spring is the season of renewal, and of course, Mother Nature does a mighty fine job of it then, but fall feels like a season of renewal as well. Bring some order back from the heady chaos of summer. The lazy days begin speeding up, guided by other-people's-clocks and the calendar fills up behind your back.

Inspired by tara's beautiful entry in this joy+ride

what's on the nightstand:

Painters in Paris 1895-1950 (some of my favorite paintings, picked up at the Met)
Kings of the Earth by Jon Clinch (overdue library book)
The Art Spirit by Robert Henri
The Photographer's Eye by Michael Freeman (great book on composition)
The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (old and utterly untouched)

and a rotating tall pile of other things which strike me just before climbing into bed.

am loving:

my gigantic coleus plants. not the container gardens I had planned this year at all, but the coleus is enormous
having the kids home for one more week before the grind begins
iced decaf earl grey tea
training for the Avon breast cancer walk (why does it surprise me that I need a goal to get in shape)
the noticeable buzz as the town readies for fall

summer inspires me by
Setting me loose into the world. I love walking outside in my pjs and bare feet, garden peeping and dreaming about next year's gardens, spontaneous dips in the pool, the freedom to choose our curriculum, as it were. Dropping my role as a chauffer and school marm for a bit inspires me to reacquaint my kids and myself with my fun and spontaneous side.

Summer wardrobe staple that I can't live without

Has to be bare feet. My feet can get clausterphobic when my shoes feel too hot and sometimes I feel like socks are strangling me so in the summer. I a also love the look of a fresh pedicure even if the rest of me is a complete mess. Plus, no socks = less laundry!

Perfect homemade summer meal
Late August corn-on-the cob, chopped tomato and basil from the garden topped with sea salt and ground pepper, salmon on the grill, a hunk of rustic bread and watermelon for dessert. A trip to the ice cream shop later for an evening walk through town with an ice cream cone.

Three constants in my day
Public radio
Chocolate milk (I have a child who needs a 12 step program for dairy)
Dishes

the inspiration for these photos
sometimes the everyday chaos of three boys and a busy husband makes my head spin. Shooting them helps me appreciate the beauty of the everyday moment and lets me keep them little forever (and quiet!). My camera was stolen a week after these pictures were taken, along with a 400 new pictures. I shudder to think of someone just erasing my memory card with two clicks of a button.

Down the Shore

2010-08-16T20:21:00.000-07:00

We picked a last minute vacation this year, and we're down in Delaware at the beach. It's really quite lovely and just the right speed for 10, 10, 3, 41 & 48 year-olds.

Don't think I can upload a thing until we get home. I'm also quite paranoid about taking my camera to the beach after losing a lens mount last year due to sand. Potty training has also gone on the back burner again, which does not bode well for my back-to-school dreams.

Still three weeks of summer left though. One child is actually nearly finished his summer assignments. The other one, I have to give him a daily prod to keep it going. Ugh. It's reminding me of school already. I'm not ready.

You are what makes it beautiful

2010-08-12T19:20:00.000-07:00

"Beauty is no material thing.
Beauty cannot be copied.
Beauty is the sensation of pleasure on the mind of the seer.
No thing is beautiful. But all things await the sensitive and imaginative mind that may be aroused to pleasurable emotion at the sight of them. This is beauty."*

*from a book full of inspiration, "The Art Spirit" by Robert Henri. This passage could be the caption of so many of the beautiful images posted by my flickr friends. There are so many talented artists out who have the gift of seeing the beauty of life everywhere.

My husband thought the top painting was "pretty good" and thought it was one of mine. Alas, it's a detail from one of Picasso's paintings we saw at the Met. The Blind Man's Meal.

miss her

2010-08-08T14:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a night out in the city re-charges my batteries. I have always had a city-girl heart, and I love the action, the whimsy, the chaos of the city. I could people watch and eavesdrop all day long here, filling myself up with the latest trends without being noticed.

But last Friday night, it made me feel a little too nostalgic for my younger self. Maybe it was just having a birthday, and remembering my age, or just looking around at the crowd at the rooftop bar and realizing that I used to be one of those girls, and now I most certainly am not. I'm not old enough to be their mother just yet (well, technically, I could be, but it's not like I have kids in their twenties), it's just the realization that ship has really left the port and sailed away.

Not that I really want to go back (ok, it would be fun for a day), but sometimes in the suburbs you forget that glorious beauty that is being in your twenties. Enjoy it, kids.

Yesterday was my birthday.

2010-08-05T09:09:00.000-07:00

Lunch with my adorable, hilarious friend John
Matisse exhibit at MOMA

Lemonade & cupcakes in Bryant park
Book of Maira Kalman's work to read on the train
Rolls of colored masking tape from the Japanese superstore
No carpool

Boys at a late playdate. Hmmm. Came home bearing a freshly-baked birthday cake.
Japanese take out
Flowers and homemade bread from Alex
New flip flops from Sheila
Facebook birthday wishes
Birthday card from mom
Serenades from Grandma & Pop

Gardening books from Mark

I'm a lucky woman.

I'm glad every day is not my birthday though, or I would be really old.

August you? I hardly know you.

2010-08-01T20:03:00.000-07:00

And, one of my favorite months begins.
Beach week approaches.
Summer rambles on.
Nights start to get a little longer.
Back to school reading begins in earnest.
The tomatoes finally, hopefully ripen (usually coinciding with beach week.)
Fall clothes appear in the stores, and a cardigan at night sounds nice.
Shiny new school supplies are packed up, getting ready.
Knitting starts to sound a wee bit appealing again.
Stone fruit fills the fruit bowl.
Everyone grooves on our summer rhythm.

(alas, I only did the plums. peaches by Linda Hunt)

The kids are all right

2010-07-28T04:35:00.000-07:00

I could have called this post: "new ways to procrastinate" "killing time when you should be cleaning up" "you should see my in-bin" "you would think I have nothing to do" "things you can do with the junk you find in thrift stores" or on a more positive note "sharing the cultural of my youth with the next generation." There you go.

Planet Earth is blue and there's nothing I can do

2010-07-26T19:01:00.000-07:00

Fooling around with blurred focus at the pool today. There's something freaky about these that I love. They just remind me of Major Tom hurtling through space or of fetuses floating around in the womb. Our visceral relationship with water fascinates me.

portland

2010-07-18T20:57:00.000-07:00

Two days in Portland. Best meal: flatbreads for pizza (not picture, there was a quick exit/diaper incident). Best day: Peak's Island bike ride.

Best night: walk through Old Port.

Best place for kids: Portland Children's Museum.

we'll return...

bar harbor

2010-07-13T17:29:00.000-07:00

After so many miles (1,853 in two weeks), I am so glad to be home. There's been a lot of nesting, swimming and summertime lazing around here. Lots of computer time, too, I must admit, editing all my vakay pics. The more I shoot, the more I grasp what it is I don't know, but also, the more I compose my pictures, rather than firing away, hoping for a catch.

return

2010-07-09T03:53:00.000-07:00

Last entry I was packing the boys for two weeks away. Today, I am packing to go and get them. We have spoken once and received one letter from each boy. Both times, everyone sounded great, and I am taking the silence as a reflection of their good times. My neighbor's son is there too, and he reported "Oh, Max and Alex? Those guys are having the time of their lives!" He also said he hadn't showered yet.

Guess what? It was all just fine. Good experience for all of us. Nice to have a break from cooking, cleaning and most of all, breaking up fights. Also, we dropped them in New Hampshire, and kept driving to Maine. So odd to vacation as a small pod of three instead of our tornado of five.

Maine really was "all that" but one magical night stands out. Thanks to Facebook, we met a friend of mine who moved to Maine in seventh grade whom I hadn't seen since. She took us for lobster at Chauncey Creek, in Kittery, Maine, a lobster pound where the locals go, and we reconnected after 30 years, like it was yesterday. She looked so much the same, and of course, so different. Her parents moved from dense suburban Philly to a house at the end of a mile-long dirt road in rural Maine just after sixth grade. Our lives diverged there, but for a brief moment, we intersected again and there I was, eleven again. In a good way.

away

2010-06-25T20:57:00.000-07:00

Here I am still awake while the others have long since called it a day. I'm still packing, sorting, trying to think of just one more thing to make it special. Tomorrow is a big day around here. We're leaving to take my two older boys to their first time at sleepaway camp. gulp.

I am nervous for them. I am biting my cheek sometimes, so they won't see me cry. You might laugh at me, because it's only two weeks, but it seems like a very long time for them to be on their own. We re-read some of the highlights on the camp web site together tonight and the boys faces lit up like fireflies. Alex wants to take guitar lessons and try water skiiing. Max wants to go wake boarding on day one and hit the rifelery range. Their minds are full of the camp-wide scavenger hunts and hikes through the woods and jumps in the lake. I admire their courage and confidence. I told Max that I had printed out a bunch of pictures to tape inside of his trunk lid, and he told me not too, that it would make him miss us too much.

I bit my cheek. Yeah, I know what you mean.

she shoots, she scores!

2010-06-19T15:20:00.000-07:00

I did it.

The casting call for pregnant women went out across the Internet and some NY print, with enticing prizes like a year of free diapers, three years of photo books and a modeling fee. The main shot was a tight crop of the women cradling their bumps, but I practiced some others while I had them.

With such beautiful models, the images were lovely, but it wasn't perfect. Here are some little things I learned:
- pregnant hands are super veiny (all that blood). Have mom lift her hands just before the shot.
- need more photoshop experience (see above).
- music really helps (I did get this one right).
- the internet again, comes through. I found a tutorial on posing pregnant women and printed out many of the poses to demonstrate or show the women the pictures. It really helped to have poses in mind. Also, so great to get five chances on the same subject.
- when you have your camera and even the most makeshift studio, people really assume that you know what you're doing (ha!).
- need more lighting experience, though my speed light with a snap-on diffuser actually did a nice job.
- when you think you have enough pictures, take ten more.
- moisturizer would have helped. Hands, bellies - it makes skin look better. Manicures are good too.
- clips came in handy (I had packed those.) And I had my lint brush but didn't use it. Should have.
- take a little extra time if you can. A willing adult model will be much more patient than my usual subjects and I think I was rushing as if they were going to dash off to something else.
- pregnant women are so beautiful (knew that). And wow, there are some gorgeous ones just wandering around.
- anything can happen in the world's best city: NYC!

Email me if you want to see some pics. I don't think I'm allowed to post them. If I know you, I'll send you a few, just for personal use.

Here's my little studio set up though.

Paying Gig

2010-06-14T18:50:00.000-07:00

That's right. You don't need glasses (Though I almost do. Don't you just love when the doctor says, "well, you weren't imagining it." No shit, Sherlock. That's why I'm here.) Anyway, I got myself a paying gig.

Now, before you start virtually patting me on the back, keep in mind that my husband's in advertising, where they need all kinds of photog types, and they have all kinds of clients who would be happy to spend very little money for said photogs. It was my husband's way of throwing me a bone. Enter me. It's really one to file under, "well, you gotta start somewhere" because I'm shooting a casting call for a pregnant belly they are using for an online ad campaign. Yes, pregnant ladies, but specifically, their bumps. As the art director emailed my husband, "are we even going to use any of these shots?" in response to my request that they ask the ladies to make sure their nails were cleanly manicured and that they wore solid colored pants & shirts. Ha. Wouldn't he feel like a jackass if one of the women showed up in a dress? Anyway, I have studied pregnant bellies all over the internet and I'm ready to capture the most beautiful orbs since Neil Armstrong's view from the moon.

Oh, and the pay? Mark mentioned there might be a need for lighting. Lighting? I just know to turn off my flash and shoot by the north window. Well, I bought myself a speedlight, a little snap on diffuser and a how-to book. Add my train fare and I think I'm only in the hole $10!

Wish me luck. I am literally losing sleep over this.

The Artist in Everyone

2010-06-09T19:18:00.000-07:00

Our school has a fantastic new art teacher who has energized the art program to a new level. Last night was the first annual art show, complete with red carpet and paparazzi (Yes, I volunteered for that one. Too fun, though I was jostling with a dad for my position. Just like the Oscars.)

Quite a few of the kids "dressed" for the occasion. Many of the girls wore lovely spring dresses and sparkly shoes; there were a few bow ties, one tux, and my kids and their buddy did their version of French artists: gelled hair, shades and pencil moustaches and goatees. I coached them to say "je suis tres chic" but mostly they said they stuck to "croissant." It was a fabulous night. You could almost feel the school buzzing as the students led their parents through the "gallery." I sent my mother-in-law some pics and she's warned me that there are artists in the family and starving is not a fun way to live. Ok, ok. But can't every human be an artist?

I quote this inspiring book on my nightstand, "The Art Spirit" by Robert Henri:

"When the artist is alive in any person, whatever his kind of work may be, he becomes an inventive, searching, daring, self-expressing creature....Where those who are not artists are trying to close the book, he opens it, shows there are still more pages possible."

Two in a series

2010-06-08T05:03:00.000-07:00

I really have a thing for tea/coffee related images. Probably the lovely associations, whether it's coffee on my own or tea with a friend. One of my favorite quilts is Kaffe Fassett's rice bowls, which I think look like tea cups. I started these as a way to practice achieving volume on a 2-D space, but I also loved the personality of the spot and the handles and I plan to paint my other two tea pots soon. Both of these tea pots are actually white, but white is tricky, so I colored them in. And now, to make some coffee...

2010-06-07T03:34:00.000-07:00

Tried to use some of the techniques I learned in my still life paintings to capture some figures. Here are the boys on the beach collecting this funny little black snails. I hope they still will want to do that this year. Anyway, a quick attempt...

Funny thing is, I really didn't intend to make the figures look so giant. Just a drawing mistake. Anyway, practice, practice.

Late night dabbling

2010-06-05T00:57:00.000-07:00

Aside from my classwork, I've practiced at home when I can. One night, the big boys watched a movie upstairs, Jack went to bed and Mark was traveling. I made an ultra easy dinner, put a movie on in the background, and set up this still life on the kitchen counter. And then, painted until midnight. I love doing that, even though I sometimes find it hard to sleep when I'm finished because I'm actually so keyed up. It also gives me a deadline of sorts, so I don't overwork things. On the down side, with the overhead lights kind of low and a little IKEA desk lamp aimed at my fruit, it makes it hard to see the colors sometimes, and I can be a bit surprised in the morning. The red-violet on this one was a bit brighter than I thought, but I decided to keep it. 8X10 on a stretched canvas.

Kind of art show theme here lately, but this space is show & tell, now isn't it?

Aging. It really does happen to the best of us.

2010-06-04T06:06:00.000-07:00

I'm 40.

One thing that's been making me feel old lately is how many of my peers have either already lost a parent, like I have, or have parents who are ill. I think part of this awareness comes from facebook, where I'm hearing from folks who wouldn't normally be on the radar. But still, two of my high school classmates lost a parent this week. One from emphysema; the other, a brain aneurysm. And I can think of two other high school friends who've lost parents in the past few months. Did I mention there were 38 kids in my graduating class? Not great odds there for that generation of parents. A college friend recently lost her mom to breast cancer -- oh, sadly, the list goes on.

Anyway, call your mom or dad today just to shoot the breeze. My mom is having dental surgery today, but I'm pretty confident the biggest pain there is going to be the jumbo bill. I'm also taking some time today to exercise and plan our meals for the next week. I want to be around to see my grandchildren grow up. Well, sorry for the glum post. Just thinking...

Knock, Knock. Who's there? Orange.

2010-06-03T05:07:00.000-07:00

I didn't finish that top picture, but I like the way the peeled orange came out. The bottom one was from week 2. There is some teacher assistance in that one. I love the color orange, so these were quite fun to paint.

When Life Gives You Lemons (and other cliches)

2010-06-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

Without my camera for the past six weeks, I've been pouring my creative energies into other outlets. I have spent more time painting (see, it's always something) and while I do love it, I am not a natural. I took a class at the local arts center, which I loved, but really challenged my abilities. There were quite a few times when I wanted to quit because I just could not get what was in my head on that canvas.

Anyway, here are a few of my paintings. We did them all within three hours on canvas panels. It was quite freeing to do these studies, and be finished with them every class, ready for a blank canvas the next week. There were so many things my teacher said that sounded like sayings you'd find on Yogi tea bag tags, i.e., "Once the freshness is gone, you can't get it back" or "challenge yourself to take something ordinary and make it beautiful." I wanted to stop and write them down, but had to keep going.

Artistic Inspiration -- The value of the search.

2010-05-29T06:59:00.000-07:00

I have been woefully absent from this space due to the lack of camera, which I have blogged about ad naseum. However, this absence does not mean that I have been putting those energies into cleaning the house or becoming more organized or catching up on correspondence, filing and garage-cleaning. Oh no. That's not me (with apologies to my patient husband). Instead, I've been painting. Pictures to come, camera is due to be ready today!

I just wanted to share a bit from the book, Hawthorne on Painting, a collection of lessons from painter Charles Hawthorne (1872-1930) collected by his wife, credited as Mrs. Charles W. Hawthorne. It's an inspiring little book, loaded with jewels. Here's a passage which appeals to my minah-bird nature:

"Don't try to be an artist all at once, be very much of a student. Be always searching, never settle to do something you've done before. Always be looking for the unexpected in nature-- you can have no formulas for anything; search constantly. Don't learn how to do things, keep on inquiring how. You must keep up an attitude of continuous study and so develop yourself. I don't know a better definition of an artist than one who is eternally curious."

Oh, just my life.

2010-05-15T14:02:00.000-07:00

My poor, broken camera was supposed to be coming home from the camera hospital yesterday. And yesterday was seven days after the hopeful discharge date. "The 14th at the latest," said the message on my machine. Like a little girl seeing her pony again, I showed up at the camera shop bright and early at the Camera Shop, eager for our reunion. Sorry, they told me. It's not here. The parts haven't been shipped from Nikon and we don't know when they will be.

Sigh. Shoulders slump.

Well, offered the lady, it's nothing fancy, but you can borrow my camera if you have an event or something. Do you have an event?

Oh, I thought. Only my life.

I heard you're having a Salon, can I come?

2010-04-27T17:51:00.000-07:00

I am now hosting a salon. Of sorts.

I'm so sorry not to have pictures, because I do think you would like this one. I should have my camera back next week. Here are a few old "before" pictures.

I finally converted the Grey Cottage Studio into a studio (it really was a little guest house.) Out behind our house, there is a 300 square foot building. It has a full bath with a horrible flourescent light, a vintage combination sink, stove, refrigerator, oven (seriously), a dutch door and a wall of windows. Little by little I have moved my stash of things out there. It's nothing fancy: a few cast-off bookcases, a dead-heavy sofabed with no other home, a table made from a hollow door and two thrift store night stands and a funky IKEA chandelier. And finally, finally, I lugged my old double bed -- mine from my teenage years, first three apartments, first married years -- I lugged both mattresses to the curb and took the frame to the Salvation Army. I searched for some great old wooden tables with mismatched chairs, but finding nothing that would fit, I headed to IKEA for two tables and a few chairs. And voila, the grey cottage studio really lives.

The Salon started as a painting group. I missed the company of my lovely Dutch ex-pat friends with whom shared a painting class on Wednesday mornings for three years. Our host, and teacher, moved back to Amsterdam, and our group had splintered. And so, I opened the studio for painting one morning a week with a marvelous, charming group of friends.

Meet them: Leonie, who is moving back to Amsterdam in two months, brings her oil painting of a young woman crossing Park Avenue in peak springtime. She was inspired by a spread in Italian Vogue. Liz, Dutch-born, globetrotting childhood -- think France, Australia, Switzerland, Canada -- and settled here, married to exactly the sort of guy she'd thought she'd never go for: a 6'5" American. Liz is working on an Andy Warhol-inspired portrait of her mother. My friend Alex, who is half-way through her chemo treatments, started painting as part of her therapy during this battle with cancer. She just finished her first painting, an amazing portrait of her daughter. And her accountant self, has found a new passion. This time last year, she was furiously studying for her CPA. And now, she just feels blessed to have time to paint. And finally my dear friend and neighbor Sheila, who said, "I hear your having a Salon. Can I come?" She brings her knitting and her wit and joins us.

I write this post because I have always done my creative projects alone. It's a stretch for me to invite people over rather than just working alone. I still really enjoy working alone, but I'm finding it's good for me to put myself out there. I'm skipping the errand-running I usually do during those three precious pre-school afternoons, and feeding my soul.

Thanks for listening.

Book Review: Falling Apart in One Piece

2010-04-17T06:03:00.000-07:00

Falling Apart in One Piece: One Optimist's Journey Through the Hell of Divorce by Stacy Morrison

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Not just a book about surviving divorce, but a well-written memoir about facing hardship and how one woman makes it through. Stacey's picture-perfect life -- magazine editor, new homeowner in Brooklyn, new mom to nine-month old Zach -- came to a crashing halt one night when her husband said, "I'm done." Done with the marriage. Like that. No affair, no big event, just little things that added up and suddenly her marriage ended. Stacy's book chronicles the hardships of the next few years (and there were many -- her house was literally falling down) and how she made it through. To me, this book is about coping with life when it just doesn't turn out like you planned.

Take this book to the beach, a weekend trip, on a plane -- you won't be able to put it down. Much better than Eat, Pray, Love though the comparisons are there.

Disclosure: Stacy is a friend of mine from high school. She really is that funny, strong, smart woman you read about. And, she's a great writer, always has been. Her high school yearbook quote was, "If you want to be a writer, write."

View all my reviews >>

Missed spring.

2010-04-13T17:50:00.000-07:00

Ten years ago, I stayed inside for the whole spring. From March 16 until May 22nd, I was confined to our one bedroom apartment, only allowed out for doctor's visits and trips to the hospital. I was on bedrest with twins. I spent hours laying on my left side, watching bad daytime tv, trying to put together a nursery with our glacially-paced dial-up internet connection and drinking water, water, water. I would move my enormous belly to the shower (my big event of the day) and then strapped a belt around my 60 inch waist to monitor any contractions. The story had a beautiful ending though: two boys born just a few days shy of their due dates, weighing in at 6lb2oz and 5lbs 14ozs, but it was a long final chapter.

The next year, spring could not come soon enough. I couldn't stop singing while pushing my double stroller around our hilly Manhattan neighborhood when that spring finally came. So much had changed that year. I became a mother, quit working, renovated an apartment and survived a post-surgical infection that landed me right back in the hospital. We had moved from that one bedroom in the village to a classic six in the upper west side -- we couldn't even fit two cribs in our old place. But most of all, I survived a winter with two babies under one. It's all still a little blurry, but man, I so needed that spring.

Ever since then, spring has filled me with joy and I never let it slip by, unnoticed like I used to. I've been feeling strange this year though, since I've been without my camera for a few weeks. Strange that the spring has gone undocumented. The trees are shifting from those gorgeous blossoms to bright little leaves. Our view down the hill changes daily, filling in like a pointillist painting.

I realized though, how very much I love taking pictures, and framing the world through my lens. Small in the grand scheme of life, but important for me to have my touchstones I suppose, and appreciated all the more when I have them again.

Loving You is Easy Cause You're Beautiful

2010-04-02T05:42:00.000-07:00

I think someone wrote that song especially for a sunny, warm spring day (because actually, it's kind of a bogus song for a woman, what if it said, "loving you is easy cause you're hot"? Okay.)
I mean c'mon, how can you not feel good on a day like today. It just rocks our animal cores.

Since my camera is in the camera hospital, undergoing expensive procedures without insurance, I resorted to usurping my son's sport Vivitar for our trip to the park.

These funky pictures are SOOC. Funky colors here, but nothing wrong with shaking things up.

An Expensive Day (or No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)

2010-03-30T14:16:00.000-07:00

Visit to the Museum.
(A tragedy in one act).

We open in a damp, dark parking garage. Still without an epiphanie bag, Jill instead shoves camera into messenger bag, along with diapers, wipes, snacks, wallet and phone. Three kids unloaded from what appears to be one of the last spots in the garage. A feeling of doom hovers.

The troop heads for the grimy elevator, while mostly avoiding the plethora of puddles and oil slicks. And then...

Bag strap failure.
Bag dump.
Camera plummet.

Crash.

Camera body stage left.
Lens, stage right.

Jill: Expletives. (improvise). Deep breaths.

Camera will not go back together. Plastic thing at the back has also popped off. Can't even assess the damage now. Just hustle it back to the car, while three confused kids huddle on the curb.

Curtain.

Hot Pink Picket Fence Quilt

2010-03-21T14:59:00.000-07:00

Say that three times fast.

Pop the champagne, I finished my second quilt. Don't peek too closely at my craftsmanship (especially the binding), but oh, this one was fun. I just cut some strips that I liked and put them all together. For the back I framed a piece of fuschia flowers with some of the brown flowers from the front. It's a gift for a little baby girl who is due in just a few weeks. I don't think she'll fuss over the wonky binding or a crooked strip here or there. I can't say it's perfect, but I'm sure that it's one of a kind. I'm not sending it until I know her name and birthday and can make her a little patch for the corner.

Nearly all of the fabrics are Kaffe Fassett's, because I simply love his crazy, bright flowers. There's an Amy Butler green in there and a Jennifer Pagnelli pink and orange stripe. I am terrible at getting baby gifts finished on time, usually because I get so involved in the planning, the gathering, the starting and not so good at the finishing. But oh, it's so satisfying to finish something, isn't it?

Take those Phthalates and Shove it!

2010-03-17T15:47:00.000-07:00

I'm wondering if anyone else has this feeling.

I have given up (most) teflon, (most) tupperware and cut back on my baggie use. I hesitate before touching carbonless receipts, as I heard on the radio that they contain pcbs or parabens or phthalates or something evil, and I fear the toxins leached into canned foods but still use them. I found out that I have been sorting our recycling wrong - for FIVE years. I try and avoid products with fragrances and parabens and of course, I still have to look out for peanuts, tree nuts, sesame and egg because of my son's allergies. And then when I ask my pediatrician why my son has these auto immune problems (eczema and allergies), they always ask if it runs in my family. No it doesn't. I don't buy it. Why is NPR warning me against using all of these endocrine disrupters while my son's allergies are chalked up to genetics? And giving up all of these things makes more work for me, scares me, guilts me -- all of it just starts to piss me off, frankly. Where's the uproar about these poisons? At some point, I get angry at knowing they are poisonous without having safe alternatives.

It's exhausting. Where is Erin Brokovich when you need her?

[Picture not related to post. It was a delicious, organic grapefruit, but surely not locally grown.]

for the love of

2010-03-10T16:08:00.000-08:00

Saturated color.

I love playing along with easy photo assignment games on flickr. It gives me a little something to mull over as I pass through the day. A new way of seeing the same run to the grocery store, the school pick-up line, the dishes. This week, Kristin started color week, asking for a different saturated color every day. I didn't really shoot many new pics (except for the spilled grapes) but it was fun to browse through the old photostream and play along.

My imaginary career as a world famous photographer continues...

Looking for Green in the Brown

2010-03-04T13:41:00.000-08:00

I took Jack to the Nature Center today to search for some green, some color out there. It seemed spring-like when I mentioned it to him, and then, when it was actually more grey and chilly than green and warm, I couldn't turn back. I had already told him we'd go.

We were hard-pressed to find much green. But they did have some wonderful mud puddles.

In Which We Escape to Colder Climes

2010-02-22T10:37:00.000-08:00

A week of skiing -- a first for our family -- and we have returned to our regular station. Sigh. Happy to be home. Fun to rent a creaky old house and explore all the nooks and crannys unfettered. I liked sitting by the fire and discussing (well, if you're talking mostly to yourself, is it discussing?) what I would do with said house if it were mine. Funny selection of books on the dark built-ins flanking the fireplace, ranging from the bright, shiny "Woof: The Gay Man's Guide to Dogs" to a yellow, stocky paperback called "The Making of a Quagmire: America and Vietnam during the Kennedy Era" by David Halberstam. The older boys really did become skiers, which was one of our goals, and I didn't break anything, which was one of mine. Not sure when I became such a chicken, but I am, so there you go.

Ah, to be fearless.

Love Letters

2010-02-12T06:06:00.000-08:00

There's something powerful going on in flickr land. The pictures of our homes, our neighborhoods are starting to morph into pictures of ourselves. It's much, much more challenging to turn the lens on yourself and not automatically hit the delete button. It may sound funny to some, but I think it's an act of courage, and I admit, I'm not always ready for the self-reflection. I would much rather turn the lens outward, but as Molly said, if we don't put ourselves in the family album, who will? I love the Shutter Sisters' challenge to write yourself a Valentine. I had trouble coming up with what to say, so I cribbed from the Valentine's Max gave to his friends. Like Molly said, if not me, then who?

Process

2010-02-07T16:39:00.000-08:00

Oh, I was so ready for the snow this weekend. I assumed that everything would be canceled. The hot chocolate was in the pantry. Crock pot dinners ready. Snow shovel propped by the front door. And not one snowflake fell.

Nonetheless, many new projects were undertaken. I looked around to see so many works in progress and chuckled about how much we all groove on the process. I also have a new quilt sandwich halfway quilted (thread shortage) and a ball of yarn sitting here that may be a baby's hat by the end of the Superbowl. I looked around today, and saw the process.

(Rock candy experiment. Day 2 of 14)

It'll Grow Mom

2010-01-30T04:49:00.000-08:00

Aren't I supposed to say that to him? Lord knows, his hair grows and grows until he can't see. I just wanted him to reveal his big brown eyes again, and perhaps get reacquainted with the brush (a mom can dream). Instead, on a day, when the wind chill was minus four, he wanted the barber to take it all off.

Did you lose a bet?

The barber joked.

His brother likes his hair super short, and I'm used to it on him. He likes to rub his hands over the top and he likes that it always looks groomed, without his actually having to groom it. He likes when the barber puts a touch of gel in the front to make it pop up a bit.

But this one, he was the crazy long-haired one. I liked the shiny shagginess of it. I also liked that even as identical twins, they had such different ways of accessorizing a very similar face (growing up, I thought that would be one of the best parts about being an identical twin. Someone to try that hair cut first. Boy, I'm a chicken.) Mom, he assured me, it'll grow.

I should be so daring.

haiku Wednesday (or look out, another camera walk)

2010-01-27T17:27:00.000-08:00

soak in the absence
relish the not-here-today
behold winter beach

off season beauties
rusted, salt-eaten, wind-blown
wabi sabi land

Thanks for indulging me.

Learning to see again.

I did feel a little self conscious shooting the dumpster. I think the construction guys thought I was with the building inspectors dept.
I'll have to turn that into a poem.

pink patchwork

2010-01-25T14:49:00.000-08:00

A million years ago, I lived in a bubble gum pink bedroom. Groovy 2-D animals covered my green bedspread and my mom's friend's painted my dresser with green chalkboard paint and used chalkboard erasers as drawer pulls. A hot pink heaven.

My much adored grandmother Kingsley much adored the same deep bluey pink. Her kitchen walls, corner kitchen cabinet (only one cabinet in those old kitchens) were all painted chalky pink. Her avocado fridge broke up the pink and her big monster white stove took up a whole corner. It probably just seem huge to me, with it's oven used for storing cereals and a pilot you had to light with a match every time. Grandma, with her chestnut hair and Revlon's cherries in the snow lipstick, had very strong feelings about colors. She hated lavendar and mint green - no pastels for this lady -- but she loved deep purple and kelly green, almost as much as pink. Can you guess which one is her in the picture? Oh, notice my great Uncle Mike's shorts & suspenders. To say nothing on the black socks. Hey, I didn't say we were royalty.

So as I was taking pictures of this pink & green quilt top, I thought it might be too pink. And then, I thought of Grandma and realize, for someone, it will be just pink enough.

Too Many of Me

2010-01-24T17:25:00.000-08:00

I just googled myself, which not being a celebrity, a published spokesperson or a paid professional, is something I very rarely do. But I had just reset all of my facebook privacy settings and wanted to see what worked. Anyway, to my extreme annoyance, there's another person with my name who comes up first. I knew she existed because she has friended me on facebook (in a fit of name-ism, I declined) but I noticed that two of her friends were really my friends. It's one of the perils of the Google age which never existed before. She lives in my state, but our paths would never have crossed. Now, I understand how Howard Stern must feel when he is confused with Howard K. Stern. I might have to start using my middle initial, because honestly, I think she had the name first.

I did finish a pink and green quilt top today. It's really quite pink . Wow. I think I got a little enthusiastic over the recent birth of Charlotte Ann. I don't even know if the mom like pink! Photo tomorrow, but you can see where I'm going here...

MLK=NYC

2010-01-18T16:21:00.000-08:00

Not really in the true spirit of the holiday, but I had the itch to take the kids to the city. Not always the greatest idea when the rest of the school population has the day off, but we did get lucky with parking, and that always puts a spring in my step. So off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art we went.

Any parent knows, the key to successful museum trips is brevity. As much as it killed me to whiz by every painting and nearly every sculpture, I kept the trip focused for my own sanity and in an attempt to make happy museum memories. Arms & Armor - check. Egyptian mummies - check. Cafeteria with greasy food and sugary dessert - check. Trip down to dad's office to say hi to dad - check. Then home. Two out of three slept in the car. Of course, number three, who's almost three, cried "I need you" loudly and squirmed for the last stretch up 95 north.

Oh, and I think the good fortune spread to the cafeteria when I dodged a puking kid by about six inches. I just heard a dad yell at me and my packed stroller, "Move it! We need to get to the bathroom QUICK!" I shuffled aside as best I could and one second later there was some modern art all over the rug. I was glad not to be that dad.

And while the company was endearing and eager if not a teeny bit whiney, I have a confession: I would have loved to have had three hours in the museum all by myself. Of course, I would have felt all kinds of guilty though. Oh, motherhood...