September 2007
Lately I’ve been thinking that I’m getting some pretty good results with my flower photos. So I thought, just maybe, I could make a bit of money off of them, selling them as “stock” photography (the types of pics that publications purchase). So I went to iStock.com and began the application process.
I was about halfway done when they gave a list of all the types of photos that they don’t want, because they have too many. Flowers were at the top of the list along with pets. Humph.
Well I went into a bit of a funk. Feeling like what I do with my camera is so ‘common.’ Of course GS’ and Sara’s recent praise of some of my photos made me feel a bit better, but at the same time I was thinking, “what a waste of time.”
Then this morning I went to the garden (sans camera) and thought some more about it. And I came to a few conclusions….
I don’t take flower pictures (or any of my pics, for that matter) because I expect that I have more talent than any of the other billion flower photographers out there. I take them because the process brings me joy. I love the ‘chase’ of merging the good lighting with a unique angle and a gorgeous flower. It’s that moment that’s the fun part. The alchemy that happens when I am with plants (and critters) and I am seeing them in a new way through my lens.
Then I love that I can return to that moment when I upload the pics to flickr and then share them with you.
Like the photo above. I took it as I was absorbing the morning sun on the balcony of a courtyard garden in Beacon Hill. It was a choice moment–thinking about the gardener who planted the fruits and veggies in the urban space, with historical buildings all around (and I was so thrilled to find nasturtiums in Massachusetts–I had no idea that they would grow in such a cold place!). Reveling in the bright new day. Feeling completely at peace. And in awe.
Now I know I didn’t capture all of that in this one photo. But maybe it reflects just a smidge of what I felt then. Or maybe you, when seeing this picture, have you own happy thoughts about spending the morning in a garden. Either way, I feel some success. Knowing that my photo just brought you some of the joy it brought me, that it reached out across the ‘net and touched you. And that makes it all worthwhile.
One of my favorite visits was to the Orchard House in Concord, the home where the Alcotts lived during the era depicted in Little Women.
The guide told many charming stories about the family and major funding has restored the house to its former glory. The best part were the paintings all over the walls done by the artistic sister, May (or Amy). I especially loved the little angelic doodles around the window frames in her bedroom.
Can I just say how much I wanted to be Jo when I was growing up? I’m just sure I would’ve cut my hair to feed the family and would’ve been as headstrong and would’ve married Prof Bhaer. Did you feel this, too, when you first read Little Women?
I took the photo above the small flower garden in front of the house. In the guidebook it explains that the garden around the house was primarily fruits & veggies back in the day, but now it’s all flowers. Though I loved the flowers, I think I liked Thoreau’s vegetable garden at the Emerson/Hawthorne house much better. But more on that garden later….
“If in Emerson’s study perpetual twilight reigns,” wrote a visitor to Orchard House in 1874,” in Alcott’s it is always noon. The great sun shines in it all day, the great fireplace roars, and the warm crimson hangings temper the sunlight and reflect the firelight. Quaint mottoes and pictures hang on the walls.”
A got a good cemetery fix while in Boston. Unfortunately, though, the lighting was never ideal for photos–either rainy & dark or too sunny. I do like how this one turned out, though, because of the filtered sunlight on the headstones behind the one in the foreground. It gives the photo somewhat of an ethereal quality, I think.
I Died For Beauty But Was Scarce
I died for beauty but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed?
“For beauty,” I replied.
“And I for truth, the two are one;
We brethren are,” he said.
And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.
~Emily Dickinson
From a set of photos that I snapped at an organic garden/farm in Concord.
All Things Live
All Things live;
The innermost thoughts
Of a [wo]man’s soul
Walk the highway
Of the Universe,
And are seen
By all the pilgrims,
Who have gone before.
~Opal Whiteley
If you are curled up in a pajama-clad ball on your cozy purple sofa, reliving the memories of the past week as you sift through photos and unpack your suitcase. All the while feeling so so tired, having gotten home at 3:30am Boston time and then back up again at 6:30am SoCal time to get the kiddoes off to school (note: though most of what I did was just redirecting their attention to their tasks as I sat on the LR floor and just enjoyed home and chatted with Mom about the week).
If this is you then you are marveling that a week can be so short and yet so long. That your life is forever altered from having walked the streets of history and having communed with such awesome friends. But at the same time knowing that the very most important moment of it all was when you walked into the kiddoes’ room and reached out and held their warm soft hands, hardly able to wait until they would wake up in the morning so you could see their smiles once again.
This photo by John shows me in tourist-mode: the camera like a prosthetic on my hand, reaching out to document all that I saw, such as in this moment in the Granary Burying Ground. I like the way my upper arm muscles are looking all strong in this photo :)
Taking a break from the travelogue to tell you some recent news:
My hair is turning curly.
All of my life my hair has been poker straight. Like so straight that even with an 80s spiral perm it was just barely wavy. But just in the last month I’ve been noticing some slight curls at the ends of my hair. And on this trip I’ve had some soft ringlet curls around my face when I put up my ponytail (which, in fact is full of curls).
I don’t know what would cause formerly straight hair to change its mind and become curly. I haven’t added any chemicals to my hair and the effect doesn’t seem altered by changing shampoos or other hair products.
But I’m not complaining. No way. All my life I have coveted those with natural curls.
Lucky me :)
Me here, dipping my toes into the warm-ish waters of Walden Pond (photo courtesy of John). There were numerous bathers who leaped in the pond oblivious of the chilly wind. We also got a nice view of one young gent in his tight-whities (that provoked some great giggles all around).
Walden Pond was all I expected and more. Thoreau continues to grow in stature in my mind. His wee cabin was the perfect size. I was ready to move in!
Today John & I met with ECS (part of the MOF and pilgrimgirl community) and her newborn son. We also took in a few more sights on the Freedom Trail, got great camera shots at the Granary Burying Ground, and enjoyed same world-famous Regina pizza and Mike’s Pastries (yes, and I had the cannoli of course!). The afternoon was spent with my F/friend of many years, David, and his wife and newborn son. What a fabulous family! There is something so incredibly satisfying in seeing how the folks you knew as a young person–how they grow up to be even more amazing than you imagined ‘way back when.’ :)
John and I then wandered around the Cambridge area–finding that we blended in much better there than in the North End or in Beacon Hill. We are just university people. We shared an awesome plate of mediterranean food at a groovy restaurant that reminded me in so many ways of the Gypsy Den in SoCal (one of our regular hangouts). We also found some great bookshops and also a tea shoppe with organic vanilla tea. I was particularly stunned by the latter, given that I have looked far and wide for such and had resigned myself to never finding it. I’ll post the name of the company soon, so you can all benefit from my newfound wisdom (I’ll also taste it to make sure that it’s up to par!).
The upshot of my day (and of the week thus far): Bostonians are just the kindest people ever! An example: we were waiting outside of Regina’s (in the table line which is never a short one!) and the guy who was seating tables saw my cane (I use a cane when I’m traveling and footing it 5+ miles/day) and he brought me a folding chair to sit on after I asked if there was somewhere to sit as I waited. Everyone else in line was so jealous! Another man in line realized that we’d all have a long wait and passed a container of the freshest calamari I’ve ever tasted (from the Fish Market around the corner, he said) to John and I and encouraged us to try some. It was absolutely delicious! Another experience: the tourguide at the Emerson manse who, when he realized we were running too late to attend both his tour and get to the last tour at the Alcott place, encouraged us to go to Alcott’s first and held the tour at the Emerson manse until we rushed over. There are numerous other examples: the kind denizens of the SeedPod Coop who fed us on Tuesday, the great folks who live at the Friends’ House where we are sleeping who stay up until after midnight chatting over a glass of milk (and a handful of ibuprofen for my weary body), the folks who, when the see my cane, generously offer their seats on the “T”, the many waiters/waitresses who’ve recommended such tasty food to us as we’ve dined in unfamiliar eateries, and the “T” workers who’ve been so helpful with my been-though-the-washing-machine defective weekly tube pass. That’s not even to mention those of you of our readers who’ve been so generous with your time and your homes!!
So people of Boston: you are awesome. Really. You’ve made this trip just magical for us!
And tomorrow: I leave for the Exponent II retreat. New Hampshire here I come!!
PS: I will so miss the blaring sound of the ‘T’ conductors announcing that the next stop is “Paaaahnk Streeeet.” :)
Travel is such delicious hard work!
Today we spent at Concord & Walden Pond with Sara, the world’s most hospitable tourguide. Right now I am headed for a shower and bed. My body is oh-so-achy from the walking.
I have pictures to share soon–including some gorgeous flowers from the Alcott and Emerson/Hawthorne homes.
PS: John is updating his flickr feed more quickly than I am. Enjoy a few photos from today.
PPS: I met several of the rodent denizens of Boston Common as we walked home in the dark tonite. To say that it was more than a bit traumatic for me is a mighty understatement–that park is like full of rats. Full, I say.
PPS: to GS~ we did the Fine Arts Museum yesterday. The Sargeants absolutely blew me away. Loved it!