29 November 2010
we packed up the car and headed to astoria for thanksgiving. if we couldn't be with family back home then why not a little adventure? why not?
26 November 2010
22 November 2010
"I never dreamt to be a model, never never dreamt to be a fashion editor but I just love the pages and the pictures. in my early years as a fashion editor, I worked with norman parkinson who was a really big photographer, and he taught me to always keep your eyes open, you know. never go to sleep in the car or anything like that, keep watching because whatever you see out the window or wherever, it can inspire you."
grace coddington, vogue
so like I said, on the day of the workshop, there was rain-- cold, blustery, miserable rain. but my workshop people, they would not be stopped by this. cameras were wrapped in plastic grocery bags, hats and coats were thrown on. and there was an umbrella, I think. maybe two. I don't know, I'm from portland so I never carry an umbrella. anyway, for about an hour, we shot in the rain-- ducked in and out of shops and alcoves, zigzagged through traffic across valencia street. people scattered this way and that. so okay, it was still pretty miserable. but also, it was fun. SO MUCH FUN.
again, ttv workshop peoples-- I thank you.
21 November 2010
it's been about a month since the workshop but I'm still feeling all shiny and happy about it.
because I could not have asked for a more awesome group of workshop participants. really, I could not.
and I could not have asked for a more perfect studio space. seriously, jordan-- thank you. more perfection: valencia street. I am a big fan of valencia street.
then there were sibby's cupcakes-- cupcakes for the ttv peoples to eat! well, and photograph. though not necessarily in that order.
on the not so shiny happy end of things, there was rain. and not just gentle misty rain but blustery miserable rain, the kind of rain that makes you want to burn your umbrella and stay inside forever. this did not bode well for the photo walk but that's another story. like I said, I'm shiny and I'm happy and also, I am brimming with gratitude. indeed, my cup runneth over:
thank you, victoria-- for hosting and for so much more. you should know that if I could lead a parade in your honor, I totally would.
thank you, jordan-- for letting us use your space. above and beyond generous. also, most fantastic studio ever. still dreaming about those bright yellow doors.
thank you, sibby's cupcakery-- for keeping us in cupcakes. the sweetest, the tastiest and it must be said: the cutest.
thank you, leslie-- for bringing a basket full of colorful props. you are a girl after my own prop-loving heart. but then, you already knew that.
thank you, workshop peoples-- thank you for showing up. thank you for tackling the contraptions and the ttv technique with so much enthusiasm, for experimenting all over the place and for totally rolling with the rain. thank you for being so completely awesome.
18 November 2010
16 November 2010
number 33 off the list and I still can't believe I had a show. er, am having a show (built like this is still up at arkay workshop in san francisco and will be through december 31st).
'tis a strange thing to publicly show your work. furthermore, to invite people to come look at this work. to say HEY, I TOOK THESE PHOTOGRAPHS AND THEY MEAN SOMETHING. PLEASE COME LOOK AT THEM. I don't know if I've ever felt more vulnerable. or more excited. the whole thing is all sort of a lovely blur now-- not unlike a wedding day. all the planning and anticipation and nervousness and then the whole thing is over in a flash. and afterwards, the elation and head spinning and you're just so glad you did it but what actually happened? who was there? was the show even any good? did you look okay? did you sound okay? did you talk to everyone? did you thank everyone? and did someone remember to take pictures?
I did not actually remember to take pictures. I mean, I took a few pictures but they're mostly crap. except for maybe this one of ava and the cupcakes. I really love that my family was there, that my kids were there. ezra may not remember it twenty years from now but ava will. and I love that my husband was there to keep my head from spinning out of control, to help hang the show, to remember little things-- things like setting aside a cupcake for me for afterwards. a red velvet cupcake, at that. I really sort of love that guy.
there are a few random pictures but nothing that comes close to capturing what the night actually was. all the people that came out, the lovely lovely people. I would have been over the moon had a handful showed up but for two solid hours, the place was packed-- with more people than I could wrap my brain around. close friends and online folks, a sweet someone from high school who I had not seen in 21 years, people from the neighborhood who wandered in from off the street. and what a street it was-- 24th in the mission is fully alive and electric with color and character. the whole show is about sense of place and I could not think of a better place for this show to be, I could not think of a better street, a better neighborhood, I could not.
thank you, everyone-- for everything. thanks to mati, the magic person who made it happen, to rachel and arkay workshop for lending the walls and making the opening extra awesome. thanks for all the kind words and encouragement that were left here or sent my way, thanks to jan and victoria and everyone else for spreading the word. thanks to all who came out to the show, who braved friday night traffic and parking (and whatever else) to be there, to all who wanted to be there but for whatever reason, could not. thanks to all who bought a print or two, to kristine for the fresh flowers and to jen for the sweet handmade loveliness. thanks to leslie and riley for their general awesomeness. and extra special thanks to ward and ava and ezra for getting in the car and driving down to san francisco with me to do this thing. and for holding my hand the entire time.
it was a good night. a really really good night.
15 November 2010
14 November 2010
"but the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. this is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. there is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. and I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."
12 November 2010
11 November 2010
excited to announce I'll be teaching at the oregon coast this spring at the joy retreat-- alongside the amazing mati rose mcdonough and tracy benjamin. painting! polaroids! cooking! all oceanside. pretty much my dream retreat.
in my workshop, we'll be playing with polaroid-- experimenting with a variety of cameras and film. from the classic SX-70 to the beautiful beast that is the automatic 100, from sweet integral film to the joys of peel apart-- we'll be playing with color and light. and we'll be looking at what it means to really slow down and compose with intention. mati's workshop is all about paint and collage, about color, play and spontaneity-- with good music and breaks for strawberries and dark chocolate. tracy's workshop is all about finding joy in cooking-- with hands-on demonstrations, an actual herb and spice lab, quick lessons in food photography and the collaborative preparation of a final feast. I'm telling you, every time I read their workshop descriptions, I die.
registration is open, peoples! march 30th? it can't come too soon.
09 November 2010
07 November 2010
it's the end of another awesome 'roid week.
p.s. checkit, a few of my favorites from the week are over at poppytalk.
p.p.s. for the record, becky-- the word 'roid still makes me laugh every time I read or write it too.
06 November 2010
let me tell you a little something about wonder bread-- their product may be crap but their logo is ace. I grew up on wonder bread and I guess I turned out okay. though I suppose that is debatable. my sicilian grandfather used to take bright white slices of wonder bread into his toffee-colored hands and ball them up until there was nothing left but small starchy globs. dough! he'd bark. nothing but dough! and he was right, of course. my grandma baked fresh loaves each week so when it came to bread, my grandpa knew what time it was. he was on to the wonder bread scam. grandma's bread was the real stuff, the good stuff-- bread substantial enough to hold a whole mess of grape jelly or fat slabs of lunch meat without completely falling apart, yet soft enough to melt in the mouth. it was the kind of bread ideals are built on. the scent alone had the power to alter moods, therefore, the course of any given day. in my family, we still talk about this bread. we dream about it. we probably always will.
I drive by the wonder bread outlet and often think of this. I think about how much I love the sign, how I much want to take photographs of it. I circle around the block but am usually too lazy to stop and get out of the car. the other day, I stopped and got out of the car. and then there's this photograph of ava-- taken over the summer at my mother-in-law's neighborhood swimming pool and I think about the moment right after I took it. after counting the recommended 90 (or 100 or whatever) seconds while the picture developed, I slowly peeled back the paper to reveal the image. and I was filled with wonder.
04 November 2010
03 November 2010
'roid week, it's on. day two's offerings included a little 82nd avenue something plus some clouds that totally upstaged the del rancho. and that is not an easy thing to do.
more from day two: my friend, the incomparable jon madison.
also in full swish: nablopomo. only three days in but still. I consider that a personal triumph.
02 November 2010
folks, there's a lot to say about san francisco-- about the show, the workshop and how completely terrific it all was. the truth is that I'm still processing the whole thing. I think maybe I still can't believe it all really happened. because I'm telling you, it was that good.
in the mean time, there's fall 'roid week. I'll be contributing to that daily and then will probably yammer on and on about it. and it's november, which can only mean one thing-- nablopomo. each november I try to post every single day. I'm not usually successful but I try. ever year, I try. fortunately, there's a lot to talk about-- san francisco, the list, my new (old) camera, future workshops, an amazing quilt, an extra special necklace, motherhood, and the end of my thirties. plus maybe seventeen other things.
actually, I don't want to talk about the end of my thirties. but I probably will anyway.
01 November 2010
here's what I remember:
1. gypsy, age six (vague but extremely pleasant recollection of large gold clip-on hoop earrings)
2. wonder woman, age seven (boxed costume from the drug store complete with classic plastic mask)
2. chorus line girl, age eight (only girl in the elementary school halloween parade wearing black patent stillettos)
3. ballet dancer, age thirteen (thinly veiled excuse to wear pointe shoes out in public)
4. belly dancer, age seventeen (first rented costume and I'll not lie-- it was spectacular)
5. hippy flower child, age eighteen (a costume built around the most awesome thrifted red and white striped bell bottoms)
6. cat in the hat, age twenty-one (with ward as a very literal interpretation of green eggs and ham)
7. crazy mary, age twenty-three (one wrinkled vintage dress plus one cheap ratty blonde wig worn a tad askew plus bright red lipstick smeared around the mouth and you've got yourself one crazy mary)
7. fifi the french girl, age twenty-six (my apologies to the french for the stereotype)
8. sunflower, age twenty-eight (face paint, so much face paint)
9. really lame butterfly creature, age thirty-four (omg, so lame)
10. pink floyd, age thirty-seven (pink wig plus pink clothes plus a name tag that read 'hello, my name is floyd')
11. boom boom corrona, roller derby queen, age thirty-eight (I do not recommend wearing official roller derby skates to a party-- or any roller skates to any party, for that matter)
12. cotton candy, age thirty-nine (fifteen yards of pink tulle netting, one pink wig, one large paper cone hat and voila: itchiest costume ever)