life is good. busy in the best way. calm. serene. growing. creativity mulling while i await the arrival of my new camera. my very first SLR!
don’t miss the new issue #61 of this joy+ride, featuring dreamy lubitel film photos by jessica ojala. also loving kinfolk and london vs paris, and yes, instagram.
(top image: before winter’s blue cold by christopher brown)
taking kids to an art museum sure isn’t the same as going it on our own. our local museum is newly remodeled and gorgeous, but with the boys in tow, it felt more like running room to pretty room. it was still nice somehow. especially when clyde kept pointing out his favorite paintings. thank god for artists who paint superheroes, sculptors who build robots with teapot heads, and stephen kaltenbach’s portrait of my father, whose brilliant light is made up of a million tiny arabesques, which even an 8-year-old can appreciate.
a few of my favorites: group of houses by elmer nelson bischoff, flowers by richard diebenkorn, still life with “”femme au coq””#2 by paul wonner, and every thiebaud in the place. ha! a landscape, a few still life paintings, and loads of desserts. am i really that predictable? apparently so. that and my favorite paintings by women and abstracts are not shown on the website.
have you seen any good art lately?
don’t make fun of me, but i’m about to quote some oprah. it’s good, though, i swear.
just read this snippet from the new show master class that’s on her new network, and it features people who are shining stars in their field and paving the way. in oprah’s own episode, she talks about “flow.” here’s what she said:
The flow is in direct proportion to the center of yourself, where God abides, where universal energy abides, where the divine within you abides. How far you are from the center, from the divine-ness of yourself, from your connection to source energy, that which created you, is how out of sync you are with your life, regardless of what you call it. When you can align with that, nobody can touch you.
wow. doesn’t that sound amazing? i’ll admit i’ve experienced “flow” before. had a tiny taste. enough of a taste to know things are not in flow creatively for me right now. but also enough to make me keep trying to find my groove and enough to make me want it all the more.
what does flow mean to you? have you felt it lately?
having a bit of a tough time balancing work/family life and creative life — and well, work/family life with pretty much anything else. i know these times will come. it is that extra special part of trying to “have it all.” and man oh man do i want it all. the desire for more, always more — as in more time to fill with all the goodness and prettiness — is huge in me, and balance is simply not in my nature, but i shall keep trying. trying to find that sweet spot.
last night, in fact, trying to squeeze in a little photo-taking after a long dry spell, i rushed out of the house with my camera between must-dos and headed to my favorite birdplace, which turns out is completely flooded by all the rain we’ve had this year. no entry allowed. :( i got a few shots, like the beauty above, from the levee before i was swarmed by clouds of mosquitos. and then, while hurrying home, i got my first speeding ticket. ever.
so i guess the message is that i need to slow down. perhaps, there is no need to force it. instead, i must trust that the time will come.
don’t miss the new issue #56 of this joy+ride with super natural awesome of Heidi Swanson of 101 Cookbooks — gorgeous SX-70 photos + a recipe!
i’m trying to consider my photos in tiny projects. trying to let them breathe. stand alone. it’s very satisfying actually. i love order, and my mish mash collections of photos never feel as pleasing to me.
these shots come from a river walk a few weeks ago, one in which i was again disappointed — caught up in “expectations” as tara via rachel smartly point out in the comments here — because by the time we arrived, the sun was already dropping down. i had hoped to capture some birds, of course, and a little more of the colorful splendor of day’s end. but alas, it was too late. so i didn’t end up with anything remotely colorful; however, i did end up shooting through the bare thicket to get these, and i rather like them.
i love how these shots sort of beg you to peer inside and through. there is a little mystery about what you might find. it evokes, for me, a feeling i remember from childhood. the curiosity. the wonder. the tentative way we approach discovery, not sure we really want to see what we might find.
recently watched what remains: the life and work of sally mann, and i found the documentary so so inspiring. here are some words, mostly sally’s, that moved me while watching the film.
“for me, the local has two parts: my family and the land.”
“there is magic in the landscape.”
“it’s always been my philosophy to try and make art out of the everyday and ordinary. it never occurred to me to leave home to make art.”
“she sees something she just doesn’t want to forget.” — sally’s son, emmett mann, on how it became familiar to see his mom inspired to take a photo. he explains a look in her eye, and how he knew by that, there was no stopping her getting that shot.
also, here’s some other stuff i’ve enjoyed lately:
today is pretty 