Photo a Day: Leaf

You can tell that the originator of this "Photo a Day" list is located in Australia, because the topic of "leaf" would not generally be suggested in January by anyone in the Northern Hemisphere. Unless you happen to have houseplants, it's not always easy to find a leaf this time of year.

I'm not a big houseplant person, but I do have a few. The ones I have, I have for sentimental reasons. I have several dish gardens that were given to me when my mom passed away a few years back. But the plant I have right now which means the most to me is a small sprig of English ivy growing in a little pot on my kitchen windowsill.

My sister and brother-in-law gave me this ivy as a small slip at Christmas. It's a cutting of the ivy that grew over the front cement steps of the house that I grew up in. It's literally a piece of my childhood.

The funniest thing I remember about this ivy is that my mom loved it and my dad hated it. Over the years, the tiny roots and runners had begun to crumble the steps, creating cracks and rough edges. Occasionally we'd discover that wasps or hornets had built a nest under it. And it grew so quickly that it had to be cut back several times a season so the steps could be used. But although he grumbled about it under his breath, Dad dutifully went out and clipped it back, or evicted the hornets, or mended the stairs, or did whatever had to be done so that the ivy could stay. So I understand why he hated it. But I'm not quite sure why Mom loved it so much. I loved it, too, for no reason other than that I loved how wild it was. It grew wherever it wanted, with no particular rhyme or reason. It just explored everywhere, climbing up the lamppost or shooting across the lawn or creeping out into the street if unchecked. It had more personality that most plants. So maybe Mom loved it for the same reason I loved it.

But whatever the reason, she did. And because of that, Dad put up with it. And took care of it. And even maybe grew to love it a little. Because he loved Mom a lot.

And that's what I think of when I look at this leaf.

Photo a Day: In My Fridge

"In My Fridge." Well, if THAT isn't just the most intimidating photo topic ever. It would be less revealing if the topic were "In My Underwear Drawer." 

I'm pretty sure you can learn more about a person from looking inside their refrigerator than you can by reading their diary. You learn about the organizational skills, their level of cleanliness, their feelings about their own physical and emotional wellbeing. Is their fridge full of healthy fresh fruits and veggies, or is it leftover boxes from fast food joints? Is everything labeled and dated, or are things growing various colors of fuzz? Is the Tupperware matched or do you have to open every container to find out if it's really sour cream or if it's last night's leftover turkey tetrazzini?

Luckily, I think I fall pretty well in the middle of all those spectra. My fridge is kinda organized; the food in there is a mix of healthy and leaning-toward-junk; my Tupperware isn't quite matched but at least I use matched leftover containers from the same restaurant most of the time. Of course, there's also the benefit that this particular topic happened to fall on a grocery shopping day, so the leftovers are minimal and the produce is at maximum. 

I thought maybe I'd try to get a pretty, interesting, artistic photo...but even at its best, my fridge is just not a work of art. (Well, the outside is, but since the topic is "IN My Fridge," not "ON My Fridge," that felt like cheating. But I won't say I didn't think about it.) So I just took a shot of the shelf that was easiest to reach with the camera. 

And you know, it's not awful. I've got some healthy peppers and hummus waiting to be arranged for a family gathering on Saturday. I've got a big tub of delicious chicken salad with cranberries in it for lunches this week (mostly for my husband and myself, but I have convinced at least one child to try it in the past). I've got leftover spaghetti and meatballs from a favorite local joint that we ordered from a couple of days ago, and another leftover container of mashed potatoes from about the same time. Hiding at the back I see a bottle of strawberry milk flavoring that I thought would be a huge hit with my pink-loving 5-year-old (news flash: it wasn't), and a can of tonic water that's been hanging around since gin-and-tonic season ended. And there's also a little peep of purple from the lid of the giant bottle of minced garlic that I use in, like, everything.

So what can you tell about me from what's in my fridge? Well, you can tell that I like healthy food but I'm not above getting someone else to make it for me. You can tell that I love comfort food. You can tell that I make an attempt to be neat and organized but I never quite commit all the way.

And, perhaps most importantly, you can tell that I love garlic. A LOT.

Yup, that's what you can tell about me by what's in my fridge.

Photo a Day: Mail and Two Things

Ever since I got a smartphone with a good quality camera, I don't even own a separate camera any more. When I can take pictures with my phone and they're instantly postable to social media, emailable to anywhere, and automatically uploaded to cloud storage so I can access them whenever I want, why would I ever use an old school camera?

Well, the answer to that question might possibly be, "Because you dropped your phone in the bleachers at the ice rink and the screen shattered so you have to buy a new one and then figure out how to use it and until you do you can't take pictures with it." Not that that's ever happened to me. (Except for the other day, when it totally did.)

That story was all background to explain why I missed posting yesterday's Photo a Day subject, "mail". Fortunately, I can easily combine it with today's subject, "Two Things". How can I do that, you may ask? This is how:

These two items arrived in the mail at my house. They were not for me. They were not even for my husband. They were for my two children, who find receiving mail to be nearly as delightful as I did when I was a child. There's something special, when you're a kid, about something arriving at the house that is specifically for you. At that age, you have so very little that is yours alone, so when anything uniquely yours makes an appearance, it's exciting.

In addition, both these magazines have age-appropriate games that my kids love to play. They're just challenging enough that the kids feel really smart and accomplished when they complete them, but they're not so challenging that they get frustrated.

These magazines also bring me back to my own childhood, when the highlight of going to the dentist wasn't getting a new toothbrush, it was getting to read the latest adventures of Goofus and Gallant in the newest issue of Highlights Magazine. And most birthdays involved a subscription to some kind of educational magazine, like Ranger Rick or National Geographic World (or sometimes not so educational, like Dynamite or Tiger Beat). I love that my kids are developing their own love of reading the same way I did!

Photo a Day: A Wall

Several years ago, my sister-in-law gave me this wall hanging:

I had just begun writing very seriously - in fact, I think this was right around the time I started writing my monthly column for the Nashua Telegraph (my first actual paid writing gig). It was particularly appropriate because most of my writing is based on things that happen with my family: funny things my kids say or do, interactions between my husband and myself, my reactions to life as a stay-at-home mom. Home was - and is - literally, where my stories began.

I hung this on the wall behind my computer, so whenever I sit down to write, that reminder is right there. Reminding me of what motivates me to write. What I love to write about. Why I care so much about writing.

Home is, indeed, where my story begins. And I have something to remind me of that fact: a wall.

Photo a Day: Time

"Time keeps on tickin', tickin', tickin' into the future..." Those of you of a certain age will remember those lyrics from Steve Miller Band's "Fly Like an Eagle." When I first heard that song back in 1976, when I was about 7 or 8 years old, I didn't really "get" it. I mean, I knew that time was passing, but it wasn't passing fast enough for me. I wanted time to go by so I could get to do cool stuff like staying up until 8 o'clock, or making my own dinner, or drinking soda whenever I wanted. I couldn't WAIT for time to tick into the future.

But 40 or so years later, that time is ticking into the future a little more quickly than I'd like. Instead of wanting to push it forward, I'd like to be able to hold it back. I'd like to stay close enough to the past to both remember and enjoy it. I'd like to hang on to the present for a while longer, to really embrace it and appreciate it. I'm perfectly content to wait for that future for quite some time.

But time keeps on tickin', tickin', tickin' into the future.

This beautiful grandfather clock stands in my living room. Appropriately enough, it used to belong to my father-in-law, my children's grandfather. It bears a small plaque with his name and the name and logo of the fraternity that he and my husband are members of, Sigma Phi Epsilon. It both looks and sounds beautiful.

I love that I can hear it from my bedroom. Without opening my eyes, I can count its chimes and know whether I need to get up or whether I can roll over and go back to sleep for a little (or a long) while. Even when I'm struggling to sleep and its chimes remind me of exactly how long I've been wide awake, there's something relaxing and comforting about its sound. It's almost like a soothing voice telling me that it's still night, there's still time to sleep. Or that it's finally day and the long sleepless night is over and I can stop tossing and turning and start my day.

It also reminds me that the generation that came before me is coming to the end of their time and handing me the gauntlet. My generation is now the one in charge, making decisions that will direct the course of the world around us. My generation is shaping the lives of the generation that will come after us, who will in their own time direct the course of the world, whether that be to continue our legacy or to try to correct it. I can picture this clock standing in my in-laws' home, and I can imagine it standing in one of my children's homes. It reminds me of the passage of decades, years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds.

It reminds me that time keeps on tickin', tickin', tickin' into the future...

Time.

Photo a Day: Me!

I've always been fascinated by artists' self-portraits, especially those painted in the era where we have photographs to compare what the artist looked like in reality. Do most people see themselves the way the camera sees them? Do they see themselves the way others see them? Do they see themselves the way they wish others see them? Or perhaps they see themselves the way they fear others see them.

Here are how a number of extremely famous (and a few not-quite-so famous) artists depicted themselves.

 

Mexican artist Frida Kahlo is well-known for her scorn of traditional ideas of female beauty, so it is no surprise that her most famous self-portrait emphasizes her mustache and full, unplucked brows. She stares directly at the viewer with pride and perhaps even a bit of derision. She does not soften or sweeten her looks in this portrait, but show her own unvarnished truth about herself and her "imperfections."

Kahlo's husband, fellow Mexican artist Diego Rivera, also painted multiple self-portraits. Rivera also seems to emphasize his imperfections, adding an extra-sagging chin, several weals on his face, and droopy, pouched eyes. And yet, there is a decided intelligence, perhaps even a bit of a smirk as he looks at himself. Like his wife, he sees value in himself beyond his physical looks. 

 

Lesser-known Austrian artist Egon Schiele painted a number of self-portraits. Rather than depicting himself realistically, Schiele was a figurative and expressionistic painter who painted himself disproportionately, with grimaces and twisted facial expressions, often turned at strange angles and with his body contorted. Schiele seemed to want to show not his looks, but his thoughts. He was conscripted into the army during World War I and served as a guard and escort for Russian prisoners, and no doubt this experience shaped his self-image.

 

Pablo Picasso painted numerous self-portraits, from realistic charcoal drawings to his more familiar cubist style paintings. He emphasized his eyes, staring boldly at the viewer with a solemn expression. 

 

One of my favorite self-portraits is Norman Rockwell's triple self-portrait. This photograph is one of the reference photographs Rockwell used when painting the self-portrait. His sense of whimsy is clear in the blank reflection in his glasses, the pipe dangling from his lips, and his splay-kneed posture, as well as the fact that the self-portrait is signed by the artist as part of the painting within the painting.

 

Perhaps the most famous self-portrait of any artist is by Vincent Van Gogh. His expression is grim as he turns his face from the viewer but angles his eyes outward almost in a glare, as if daring them to judge his work. The swirling background around him is reminiscent of his turbulent thoughts and emotional state. His features, in comparison to the photograph, are realistic but starker and more angular than reality, with sharp cheekbones and a narrow, pointed noise and chin. The portrait is not so much flattering as it is haunted.

So what does this have to do with today's Photo a Day subject of "me!"? Well, I'm terrible at taking selfies, so I considered drawing a picture of myself. But I'm even more terrible at drawing. So instead, I opted to depict myself not as I see myself, but as my daughter sees me. She is a wonderful and enthusiastic artist who loves to draw pictures of everyone, including her friends at school and her family. This is a recent portrait she drew of our family.

For those of you who don't know my family personally, from left to right, depicted are me, my husband, my 7-year-old son, and my 5-year-old daughter (the artist). We each have very definite hallmarks that are present in every portrait drawn by my daughter. She herself always sports full yellow hair (she's a curly blonde), a purple dress, and some kind of jewelry or hair accessory or crown. My son sports brown hair and blue eyes; my husband has short, stubbly blond hair and blue eyes. And I always have red (occasionally red mixed with brown) hair, blue eyes, and bright red lips (I don't often wear lipstick, but my daughter is fascinated whenever I do).

So how does my daughter see me? She sees me as part of our family, as someone who is always smiling. She sees me as someone who is beautiful and happy and loving. She sees me as I sometimes am, but as I want to be always. Seeing who I am in her eyes makes me want to be that person. She sees the "me!" I could be. She makes me want to be that "me!".

Photo a Day: A Fave Thing

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with strings, these are a few of my favorite things." Like Maria, I can't cut down my list of favorite things to a single favorite thing. If I were writing that song for myself, it would be something like, "Warm cozy blankets and bubbles in bathtubs, extra cheese pizza and snuggling with my hubs, shiny red crockpots and an oven that sings, these are a few of my favorite things."

"Cozy" and "warm" and "comfy" are all words that come into play often when I think of my favorite things. Cozy sweaters, warm slippers, comfy pajamas. I like to wear things and spend time in places that make me feel physically warm and relaxed. My bed, the sofa with a blanket, in front of the fireplace. Ah, the fireplace.

My fireplace is cozy and pretty and welcoming at any time of the year, but I think it's an especially favorite place for me at Christmastime. Not only are there lots of cold nights that time of year when we build a cozy fire in it, but also the decorations are "emotionally cozy". The stockings with the names of all 5 members of my family bring us close even if not all of us are physically present. The Nutcrackers on the mantel remind me of my late parents-in-law who had a beautiful Nutcracker collection (which no doubt inspired my husband's collection), the candles and greens and lights in the center of the mantel always represent a group decorating effort (my husband usually cuts and often arranges the greens with help from the kids while I add the candles and other decorations), and of course the general aura of Christmas inspires the joyous awe and wonder and anticipation of my young children.

My fireplace also evokes memories of the happy family gatherings that are often around it. We sit on the floor for special family or romantic dinners; we host large and small parties, dinners and cocktail parties and cast parties and champagne tastings; we play games as a family - Battleship and the Disney Princess Cupcake Game and Twister and Candyland and War; many is the pleasant nap that one or more family members have enjoyed in front of a cozy fire there.

So the fireplace evokes memories of coziness, both physical and emotional. It is, indeed, "a fave thing."

Photo a Day: Animal

Today's Photo a Day topic is "Animal". The only "pet" stage we've reached at our house is fish, so other than family members, there are no living animals in our house. What we do have in abundance, however, is stuffed animals.

I have become quite accustomed to finding some fuzzy little creature staring at me with its beady little eyes from some corner or another everywhere I turn. I have found stuffed animals in my bed, in the bathtub, on the kitchen counter, under the dining room table, in every nook and cranny in my car, on the porch, and in every other imaginable spot in and around my house.

Between my two children, there are easily well over 100 stuffies living in my home. Bears, dogs, giraffes, elephants, penguins, pandas, monkeys, zebras, hedgehogs, hippos, foxes, even a rather sad-looking chicken. And they are dearly loved, each and every one. The older ones have become threadbare from endless hugging, snuggling, and dragging around from pillar to post. As much as I adore being snuggled and hugged by my kids myself, there are moments when I need to detach those small beings from my legs to do other important things, like making dinner or cleaning the house or taking a shower or peeing. These fluffy little friends have served as substitute snugglers for any time that Mum is not available for cuddling.

They are symbolic of both my children's affection and of my occasional freedom from that affection. They remind me that my children are learning to love and take care of creatures smaller than themselves. They're not yet capable of taking care of a living animal, but the affection and attention they lavish on their stuffies convinces me that it will not be long before they will be ready to be in charge of a real, living, breathing animal.

Animal.

Photo a Day, January 2017

As I was reviewing my files in order to write my retrospective on 2016, it struck me that I haven't done any Photo a Day challenges in a while. So for the month of January, I'll be posting a daily photo - along with commentary, of course - based on Fat Mum Slim' s prompts:

Since it's already January 3rd, I'm several days behind. Fortunately, I'm pretty sure I can knock off the first three subjects in a single photograph.

1: my fave colour
2: delicious
3: circle

My 5-year-old daughter is fascinated by the idea that everyone has a favorite color, so one of the first questions she asks everyone she meets is, "What is your favorite color?" (usually followed by the happy exclamation, "Mine's purple!"). She also repeatedly confirms with everyone in the family that our favorite colors have not changed. She's totally flummoxed by the fact that her brother changes his favorite color on a regular basis. But fortunately, she can always rely on Mum and Dad to confirm that indeed, we do both still love green. Any time she brings me a something with a choice of colors, she offers me the green one. I can't remember the last time I ate an M&M that wasn't green. And you can be quite certain that I am not allowed to eat any of the Kisses in this bowl other than the green-wrapped ones. She, of course, always chooses a purple for herself. Fortunately, my son's current favorite color is red, so eventually we will polish off all these Kisses.

This photograph also carries out the theme of delicious, because not only are the objects in the photo chocolate, they are DARK chocolate. My whole family shares a love of dark chocolate. Milk chocolate is fine, in limited quantities, but it feels like a pale, sickly-sweet imitation of the real thing. White chocolate is fabulous, but it's a completely different flavor. Dark chocolate, though...the richness, the perfect balance of bitter and sweet, the smooth texture on the tongue. It is the embodiment of the word "delicious."

And finally, the simple circle of a bowl is rarely used in our house except at Christmas time. It's simple white circle never competes with the embellishments of Christmas candy, whether it be red and green M&Ms, miniature red-and-white striped candy canes, or - as here - brilliantly purple, red, and green foil wrapped Hershey's Kisses. Growing up, my family always had a bowl of ribbon candy set out at Christmas, and it was nearly always displayed in a similarly plain, unadorned silver dish. Complexity is set off by simplicity. The white circle needs the brilliant colors and the brilliant colors need the white circle.

My fave colour. Delicious. Circle.

Lent Photo a Day: Alone

Alone. I vaguely remember that concept. Long ago, before I had children, I used to be alone sometimes. In fact, being an introvert, I used to be alone fairly often. I liked being alone. I like being alone. I just rarely get to be alone these days.

Alone is a concept that has negative connotations for many people. Synonyms for the word “alone” are often associated with unpleasantness: lonely, sole, loner, abandoned, isolated, desolate, solitary, forsaken, friendless, hermit, detached, deserted, forlorn. Who would voluntarily experience all those things? No-one wants to be lonely or friendless or abandoned. But there are times when even the most gregarious of us needs a moment to be alone, to be solo, to be single, to be separate, to be apart. Sometimes we each need to get away from everything around us, to close off the buzz of everyday life, to separate ourselves from outside influences and seek a moment of peace and clarity away from the presence of other people. We all need to be alone every now and then.

So when I need to be alone, I find a small sanctuary wherever I can. It may be at my kitchen table in the early morning before the rest of the family gets up. It may be a few stolen moments in the car as I head off to pick the kids up from school. Occasionally, in desperation, it’s behind a locked bathroom door. But my favorite alone place is my bathtub. 

I fill my tub with steaming water and scented bubbles. I turn off the lights and light a few candles. I put on some soft music. I might pour myself a glass of wine or a fancy cocktail. I’ll grab a favorite book. And then I’ll sink myself into a world of sensory pleasures, of calming scents and soothing sounds, of peace and tranquility, of distance from the sounds and stresses of life. Solitary. Isolated. Unaccompanied. Away.

Alone.

Lent Photo a Day: Look

This morning, I woke up before anyone else in the house was stirring. Normally I would have gone right back to sleep, or at least relaxed in bed for a while, but then I thought about this morning’s Photo a Day subject and decided I would take advantage of the quiet to take a few photos of the world outside my windows, which had been covered in a light blanket of snow overnight. I slipped on jeans and a sweater and tiptoed downstairs. Of course my first order of business was to make myself a cup of coffee.

But while it was brewing, I heard voices outside and peeked through the curtains to see a couple of my neighbors struggling to move their car, which was partially blocked by one of our cars. I threw on my coat and boots and called out to them that I’d come get it out of their way. I didn’t bother to scrape the windshield, since I only had to back it straight up and there was nothing behind me for a good 20 feet. After a quick chat through our rolled-down windows, agreeing how sick of winter we are and commiserating about the horrible commuting situation, we wished each other a good day, and she pulled out of the driveway while I began to pull the car back into its spot. But when I looked forward, all I could see was this. 

I was looking, but I wasn’t seeing. If I squinted, I could barely make out a tree off to the left, but directly in front of me, where I was heading, all I could see was a wall of white. I simply had to pull ahead gently, trusting to my memory of what was there and my instincts of how far I could safely go. I carefully eased forward those last few inches until I felt the resistance of the banked snow in front of my tires, and I knew I was safe.

Isn’t that a great metaphor for life? Even when you look, sometimes you just can’t see. You keep looking, peering past or through or around whatever it is that’s clouding your vision. You trust your own instincts to keep you safe, sometimes you ask others for external perspective to help guide you. You rely on memory and logic to help you get where you want to be, but in the end, sometimes you just need to keep looking as best you can and then move ahead anyway.

Look.

2015 Lent Photo a Day Challenge: Announce

Every now and then I like to challenge myself to blog every day for a month based on some online photo challenge. Since today is Ash Wednesday, I thought I’d take on a slightly different photo challenge for the 40 days of Lent. The concepts to be captured in this challenge are a bit more abstract, truly more “challenging,” than photo challenges I’ve done in the past. Here is the list, by date (from www.rethinkchurch.org/lent):

February

18 – Announce

19 – Look

20 – Alone

21 – Joy

22 – Celebrate

23 – Covenant

24 – Path

25 – Remember

26 – Place

27 – Wait

28 – Powers

March

1 – Celebrate

2 – Bless

3 – Near

4 – Poor

5 – Follow

6 – Beloved

7 – Speak

8 – Celebrate

9 – Sabbath

10 – Knowledge

11 – Wise

12 – Stop

13 – Practice

14 – Search

15 – Celebrate

16 – Wilderness

17 – Endure

18 – Believe

19 – Light

20 – Place

21 – Still

22 – Celebrate

23 – Forgive

24 – Mercy

25 – Truth

26 – Seek

27 – Meditate

28 – See

29 – Celebrate

30 – Live

31 – Call

April

1 – Peace

2 – Breath

3 – Prosper

4 – Refuge

5 – Go

With today’s subject being “announce,” the first image that jumped into my head was of a row of heralds trumpeting, the shining brass bells of their horns raised high, blaring a joyful fanfare.

This particular bell belongs to a French horn, not a herald’s trumpet. It’s a bit battered, bearing dents and scratches earned through many years of use. The edge of the bell has lost its finish and has bits that have become ugly and crusty. And yet it can still call out a glorious announcement of something wonderful and exciting that is to come. Much like people, its outward looks do not reflect its potential for beauty and service. I am proud to use it to announce my intentions of taking up this challenge, because it is imperfect, just as I am. I can only hope that the humble efforts put forth by my battered self can serve to share some beauty, just as this battered horn shares a beauty other than its appearance.