Category Archives: Memories

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Feeling The Sun From Both Sides

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 To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides  – David Viscott

Young sunflowers follow the sun their heads turning as the day changes from morning to night powerless to resist the movement of the light, but mature sunflowers hold fast, firmly planted and permanently facing east. They stand like silent sentries content to feel the warmth as the sun passes over as if they know somehow the benefits that will come from feeling the sun from both sides.

Three Years

Today is our third wedding anniversary. John would say getting married was a piece of the puzzle necessary for immigration which sounds decidedly unromantic, which he is not.

He would say that the date we met online and the date we met in person are more significant for him and more noteworthy than our wedding day and I can see why he would feel this way.

Wedding Day - John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper - 2/2/2009

Our wedding day was our most public declaration and more of a celebration than the deeply moving experience of some marriage ceremonies. It was a period at the end of the sentence that meant I could stay forever.

Snowy Wedding Day - John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper

While all three dates have their place in our history there’s one we note more privately which is how it occurred. We both see it as the most significant of the three and the one that marked a defining moment in our relationship. I’ve written about it before, the look that passed between us while standing on bridge built in the 14th century only eight days after we met in person.

This photograph of me was taken almost immediately after that moment occurred. I’m standing on Helland Bridge with no doubt and no fear, loving the man and the moment, ready plant my feet and face permanently east. 

Taken only minutes later, this is one of my very favorite photographs of John. There are a million reasons why, but this act that came later is just one of many that confirmed what I already knew that day.

Much has changed since I wrote my first blog post, but as you can see from the title if you follow the link, some things are exactly same.

If you’d like to share a sweet story of your own either through a comment or link, I’d love to read it.

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Defining Moments – Giving Up The Gold

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Defining Moments

Having found a box and bought packing supplies, I found it slightly ironic that when I began to pack up most of my photography equipment to send off to sell, ‘Defining Moments,’ were the words that came to mind.

Perhaps it was a subtle whisper from the ghost of Alfred Eisenstadet.

While not a picture perfect moment, it was a defining one for me. I’ve been holding on to an idea of who I am that no longer fits me. I wrote about this in detail a few weeks ago when I gave you a look at some of the images from weddings I’ve photographed in the past.

Wedding photography as a career no longer suits my lifestyle. That doesn’t mean leaving it behind is painless and it’s about more than the just the idea of losing money on expensive equipment.

I love the energy of a wedding day shoot and the private access it gives me to the stories of the people involved. There’s a thrill that comes from knowing you have an almost open invitation to discreetly document the moments they might not remember until later when they see your work.

I may miss the excitement of wedding day drama, but the business side of it leaves me cold and life passes too quickly to waste time doing things that don’t give back enough to support your passion. I always hated when potential clients wanted haggle over my fees as if we were at the corner market buying and selling fruit. It felt demeaning to us both.

As I was going through my camera gear making decisions about what needed to go, I had everything laid out on a low table in our living room and could see just how much I’d invested over the years. I mentally added up the cost of certain pieces as I picked up a camera with my favorite lens still attached, but it was the weighty feel of it in my hands rather than the money that made me pause as I considered how once it was gone, I was unlikely to ever hold one so substantial again.

I took off the lens cap and looked through the viewfinder and had a serious heart pang at the thought of letting it all go. It’s a lot of money I thought, maybe I should just hang on to this one camera and lens, maybe I could use it for …

After loads of internal dialogue, I replayed the logical reasons why I didn’t need this equipment if I wasn’t doing professional work, but it was the memory of a story I’d heard that reassured me that I was doing the right thing by selling it all now.

Hoarding Your Gold

Most of us have things like this in our lives, they hang around taking up space long after we’ve moved on. I told John that seeing the money-making tools my photography life laid out for me to touch felt a bit like the story of the miser who kept his gold under the floorboards of his house. I can’t remember the details, but what came to mind was the image of the miser up late at night when everyone was asleep, taking out his gold and counting it while admiring its beauty and imagining all the things he could buy with his fortune.

The problem was he never spent it, never shared it, and died with it still hidden under floor.

My camera equipment has been like that for a while … safely tucked away, but not being used. While it was here, there was room for ambiguity about the future, at least with regard to one area of my life. Giving up ‘my gold’ may seem like I’m closing a door on photography, but I’ve got another idea more suited to the life I’m constantly creating.

I’ve been using a camera for over forty years and that’s not going to change. I like shooting on the fly so my gear will likely stay small from now on. It’s funny to see echos of my current style in this playground snap taken when I was ten. It’s one of the few pictures I still have taken with my first camera.

I do love the action shot!

Speaking of action shots, I took this one a few minutes ago. With the exception of a few items, that’s my professional photo life all wrapped up tight and tidy in a box … next stop MPB Photographic. Here’s hoping someone out there finds a good use for my gear.

I’ve still got what I need for now.

“The camera doesn’t make a bit of difference. All of them can record what you are seeing. But, you have to SEE “

– Ernst Haas

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Squeezing The Jersey Girls

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Remember last summer when I was trapped in the US and moaning about all the excitement I was missing with John … I wanted in particular to get my hands on the little darling in the picture above. That finally happened when we went away last week.

We left for Jersey on Monday crossing the English Channel by ferry arriving just in time to keep me from realizing the full effect of a rainy day at sea. I was a bit green when we arrived, but managed to maintain better control over my breakfast than some of the other passengers. John has a cast-iron tummy and ate a prawn sandwich with no problem at all while I counted the minutes to when I could get back on dry land.

The highlight of our five days away was seeing ‘the girls.’ It was the first time I had been to John’s youngest daughter’s new home and over a year since I’d been able to give his eldest granddaughter, Jersey Girl, a big squeeze.

 It was tough to get all three looking at the camera at the same time, but here’s one I managed with John’s new camera.

Some things you never forget such as how to feed a baby, but I didn’t remember how they’re likely to blow bits of whatever they’re eating back at you with every cough, sneeze, or head shake. By the end of her meal, I looked as if I needed to be wearing a bib too.

No one makes JBG giggle like her big sister and they had a splash-a-thon later in the bath of epic proportions. JBG was splashing like she was kin to Shamu at SeaWorld and I got soaked! That’s Clive, he’s JBG’s other grandpa and John is in the background wearing Jane’s fox collar. Jane is JBG’s other grandmother. John was pretending to be a lion a few minutes before I took this photo. There were some others with the fur that I snapped and then forgot about where he was making a series of funny faces. When I asked him why he had such odd expressions on his face, he said, ‘ I was growling!’

I’m not sure what kind of lion he was supposed to be here, but I did ask him to strike a pose.

John and I managed to have a few adventures on our own minus the children which I’ll share over the next few days. I’ll leave you with this rainy day shot of Jersey for now … and hope to see you back here tomorrow.

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I Love The Night Life

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John and I have a connection that makes it almost impossible not to spot each other, even in a crowd. This can make it difficult for me to sneak a shot of him without being seen. A moment or two before he snapped this laughing, ‘Oops, you caught me’ photo, I was crouched in between some of our neighbors trying to get a shot of him with a straight face. I’d taken four or five earlier in the evening and every time I pointed the camera in his direction, he’d pull (make) a face like the one below.

So I set out to stalk him from a distance thinking if I went off to talk with others at the New Year’s Eve gathering, I might double back and catch him unaware.

You can see how well that worked out for me in the photo above. (Double click if you need too) He caught me and then when I laughed about being found out, he took the picture of me laughing and waving my hand in sheepish surrender that you see in the first photograph.

We always have fancy dress themes for New Year’s Eve at our village pub and this year we had to choose something related Nursery Rhymes. Here you see a Grand Old Duke Of York and Little Miss Muffet along with Wee Willie Winkie and the Queen of Hearts.

Here’s another Wee Willie Winkle. Our neighbor Len was going off with his wife Mary to ring the church bells at midnight. It was very dark and rainy which made for an interesting shot.

You may recognize the Three Blind Mice.

We’ve got a spider and a Cat with a fiddle at the table and that’s John to the right with a pint, all dressed in blue with a horn that is more Harpo Marx than Little Boy Blue, the character he chose for the night.

I’m not sure where all that bokeh came from. My lens was clean and it wasn’t in the other shots I took in that direction. I had to use this one because it was the only one I managed to get of John not making a face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not everyone dressed up, but I think they still had a good time. Some years are easier than others and I found this one a bit challenging.

That’s Roger behind the bar with Humpty Dumpty on his back. ( I can’t remember why now)

There’s Old King Cole

This strange one came from a distant village and I think has the wrong theme in mind. He looked like the Incredible Hulk with a bad case of chicken pox.

John and I were outside listening to the church bells and kissing at midnight and didn’t get to join hands to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne.‘ 

John WInchurch & Elizabeth Harper January 1, 2012

Here we are after midnight finishing a drink before heading for home. And in case you’re wondering what I came as that night …

Elizabeth Harper - Dressed For New Year's Eve 2011

With all those characters wandering around, I thought there ought to be someone to tell the story so I went as the teller of tales, the reader of rhymes, the great and mysterious,

                                                     Bedtime  Storyteller

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A Good Four Years

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Online dating can be a nasty business from what I’ve heard and I can see why that might be so for many people. I’ve only had two experiences with it, one with my husband John who turned out to be exactly who he represented himself to be, and one a few years before that was disappointing and educational. I’ll leave it by saying there are some lessons I’d rather not have learned.

If you’ve followed my story you’ll know that I wasn’t really interested in dating men in the UK as much as I was reading about them. You’ll also know that I found John by a happy accident on New Year’s Eve after reading through several hundred profiles on a UK dating site.

I bring this up again because today marks four years since he received an email that I had no idea I’d initiated, from Guardian Soulmates informing him that he had a ‘Fan.’

If you’re interested in the romantic details, you can read more here and here. A lot can happen in four years and a great deal of our last four years can be found on this blog site and in my earlier version of ‘Gifts Of The Journey.’ 

John, romantic sweetie that he is, came into the room where I was sitting a few days ago and said that he had been rereading the emails from when we first met online and said that our conversations then, were much as they are now, honest, straight-forward, and without pretense.

I was lying on the couch looking rough this morning, a result of a post holiday illness when after reminding me of today’s date and the time that had passed, he gave my hand a tender squeeze and said, ‘They’ve been a good four years.’

He’s right, you know. With little effort we’ve been very happy and I feel so lucky to have found such a dear man.

John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper - 2011

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Up In Smoke – Hopeful Thoughts For 2012

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Photo by Christina Romero-Cross

I went to my friends Tina and Henry’s home on Christmas Eve for a mince-pie and a glass of mulled wine and left having satisfied more than my appetite for sweets.

Tina’s an artist and she had two ceramic vessels that she’d made sitting in a featured place with small slips of paper layered around them and several ink pens nearby. She spoke briefly about her intention for them when I arrived, but after being swept up in conversation almost as soon as she finished, I only remembered her plan for them as I was putting my coat on to leave.

We were encouraged to write a burden we wished to be rid of in 2012 on a slip of paper and drop it into the vessel on the right and if there a secret something we hoped for in the new year to write it on another paper and put it into the left container.

I did not hesitate with my hopeful wish or my relentless burden and after a quick scritch-scratch on the paper, I was done. The next morning I felt lighter already as if the act of writing both down had lifted a weight from me overnight. I know that sounds silly and too simple, but it’s true.

The vessels and the papers inside are destined for a big beach bonfire on New Year’s Day. The ceramic containers are made to withstand the fire while the papers inside are baked to ash.

I like that.

I like the idea of my dreams and doubts going up in a puff, while sausages and marshmallows roast on sticks over the same fire. I imagine Tina and Henry’s twins will be dancing and twirling around the beach while things crackle into dust and it seems right that children should be playing nearby.

Children are naturally hopeful and isn’t hope a part of why so many of us think a wish or resolution has a chance for success even if we make the same one every New Year.

Please feel free to share any of your rituals for the new year in a comment below or leave a link if you’ve written your own post for 2012.

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Going Home

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Marg & Miranda - 1990

On Christmas Eve, my step-mom’s Aunt Margaret died. Born in a small town in Alabama, she was the youngest of ten children and the last one to go. Called Marg by her family (pronounced like Mog) she was more like an older sister to Cullene than an aunt making the loss even deeper for Cullene who is an only child.

Later today she will be going with my sister Jennie to Marg’s military funeral in the town where they both grew up. I wish I could be there too. Marg was just about my favorite of Cullene’s family although she wasn’t the only one in that group that knew how to have a good time. She was quick to try to make you laugh and I always loved a visit that included her.

In declining heath after a stroke two days before turning 87, she eased gently out of life just as the much of the world was slowing down to focus on family and Christmas celebrations.

I’d like to think that there a was great party waiting for her after she let go. With nine brothers and sisters all gone before her, I can almost hear her feet on the front porch and the screen door slamming shut behind her. Her brother Bab’s there too hurrying across the room to snatch up his baby sister folding her into a big hug before shouting over his shoulder and calling the family in with the words “Hey everybody, Marg’s finally here!”

I wrote a post that included memories and more about Marg last September and have copied it below. 

Making Gifts From Photo Memories

I used to make large and unusual photo collages to give as gifts to mark special occasions. I began doing it about 25 years ago when I became frustrated with the amount of photographs I was taking and the lack of ways to display them. Albums seemed tedious and too many framed images felt more like clutter than a way to share a memory.

I came across a photo in my files of one collage I made and thought some of you might be interested. It was a gift for my step-mom’s aunt Margaret who served in the Navy during WWII and stayed in long enough to retire.

Born in a small town where everyone knew and loved her, her desire to see a bigger world and the courage to venture into places where women from small towns usually didn’t go, would have made her my type of role model when I was growing up. I put this together for her 80th birthday about eight or nine years ago. It’s not my best collage, but it is one of my sentimental favorites.

It’s smaller than most of the collages I’ve done in the past, only about 24 inches tall and 14 or so wide. I didn’t have as many photos to work with as I normally do. I’m used to having loads to choose from, but because it was a surprise I had to work with what Cullene had on hand.

Knowing that the Navy was such an important part of Margaret’s life, I enlarged a V-Mail letter and envelope from my great-uncle Hugh who died towards the end of WWII. I used it as a backdrop and tried to position it so that it would not be obvious that he was writing to his parents.

I wanted to project a feel for that time during her history and thought it was a good stand-in since I didn’t have any written by Margaret. I made photo copies of the old photos Cullene gave me and tore the edges before gluing them on with rubber cement. I like to use different textures normally and this was actually a bit too glossy for me.

Personalized Party Favors

I also made little party favors (memory items) for each guest at the 80th party to sit at each of the place settings. I based it on a story Cullene told me about how in those days small happenings made the newspaper in the close-knit community where she and Margaret grew up.

Since she broke her arm playing on bales of cotton, I decided to make mini bales with a laminated photo copy of the news clipping attached to it. I can’t help thinking how nice it would be to live in a place where a little girl’s broken arm during play was part of the news.

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Full As A Tick And Other Thoughts About Food

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Christmas 1960 - Elizabeth Harper - Looking Full As A Tick

It’s early 9:15 in the morning here and I still feel full from all the food I’ve eaten over the last few days. John and I may have had a quiet Christmas with just the two of us, but lord did we eat!

More than a time or two the words ‘ I’m full as tick, ‘ may have crossed the lips of one of us and you won’t need to wonder which if you remember I’ve got southern roots. Our different geographic histories were also clearly illustrated by the foods that filled our plates.

John made all of his traditional English side dishes and I made the ones that have graced my family’s southern dinner table for as long as I can remember so that in the end it looked as if we had both made a complete Christmas dinner with only a shared turkey and gravy between us.

While I’m talking turkey, I have to say that John’s turkey this year was amazing! On big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving, turkey tends to be more as an accessory item to me, something I’m supposed include but don’t want too much of as there are more exciting choices to be had. This year the turkey was perfect in taste and texture and I stuffed down more of it than usual.

Speaking of stuffing, John made his in the bird and I did a cornbread dressing in a pan like my family does in Georgia. I used cornmeal carried over on my last flight since I haven’t been able to find any in Cornwall.

Have a look at our dinner plates on Christmas day, they may look like they have the same food, but if you look closely you can see the difference. John has more of the roasted root veggies along with his stuffing and the English version of a ‘pig in a blanket.’ Here it’s a sausage wrapped in bacon while in my family it would be a cocktail weenie wrapped in a biscuit.

John's Christmas Dinner

I had one chance to grab a quick shot of John’s plate as he had his knife and fork in hand and was waiting impatiently to begin. Multiple shots were not a possibility so this one will have to do. Notice all the plain ‘healthier’ veggies … there’s only a small dibble of my contributions seen at about 9 and 10 o’clock on the plate. He did compliment me on my broccoli bake (we’d call it a casserole) but that means something less special here.

My Christmas Dinner

My plate has a mix of both of our dishes. A good southern girl is raised to be polite and eat a of bit of what’s offered, but I focused mainly on things I made like my sweet potato casserole which is always heavenly and the previously mentioned broccoli which I successfully modified slightly by substituting regular bread crumbs with cornbread crumbs instead.

The pink stuff as John likes to call it, is what we refer to as a congealed salad and it’s made from a recipe Cullene has had for many years. I love this cranberry, cream cheese and jello concoction, and no holiday meal is complete for me without it. John likens it to something here called Blancmange which sounds as if he’s saying Blamonge.

The end result was the same for both of us with empty plates and overfull bellies. In a time where many people don’t have enough, I was acutely aware of how fortunate we are to have so much.

The taste of special dishes served only once or twice a year acts as a link for me and probably many of you too reminding us of past holiday meals shared with family and friends and perhaps, it’s the feelings triggered by memory along with a mix of sweetness and spice that makes us overindulge at times.

Here’s hoping your heart was a full as your tummy and that your meal was shared with someone you love.

' Cheers ' from John Winchurch At Christmas

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Sharing Secrets, Support, & 500 Posts

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Christmas Day 1986 - Cullene, Gene, & Elizabeth Harper

Twenty-five years ago today, I was newly married and in my last year at the University of Georgia. I was also newly pregnant in this Christmas photograph taken with my dad and step-mom, but they didn’t know it yet. Barely twelve days into the pregnancy, there were no tests available back then that were sensitive enough to confirm what I already knew.

I hadn’t planned on adding a baby to my goals for the new year and even though it was very early, I was already worrying about how I was going to balance being a mom with the career goals I had for myself.

For years when I looked at this photo, I focused on the briefcase I was holding and the memory of the feelings I had at the time. My excitement over their gift was tempered by my fear of the future. We were uninsured for pregnancy and were already living pretty frugally and I just couldn’t see how we were going to manage it.

I may have been smiling in this picture, but the secret growing inside me dominated my thoughts that Christmas and I worried that Cullene would sense that something was different about me.

That tiny bean of a baby became my daughter Miranda and it is largely for her that I began this blog in June 2008. From the time she was born I worried as many mothers do that something might happen to me and she would never know how much I loved her or who I was. That eased a great deal as she grew up, but when I choose to marry John and move to another country some of those feelings resurfaced.

I thought writing about my life here might be a way for her to see what was happening with me in England. I also hoped it might help to maintain and strengthen our relationship even though I was so far away.

‘Gifts of the Journey’ evolved very quickly into something more as I bravely wrote and made public those first bog posts. I found myself sharing many things I would have normally kept private. Thoughts and stories that while not as revealing as some might think, were huge leaps of faith for me as I posted things about myself that I worried might be too much.

Today marks my 500th post and it seems right to use a Christmas photograph that once made me think of things I was afraid to say.

When I look at it now I can see what I didn’t then. I was so fearful about the future that I missed my father’s hand on my shoulder and my hand touching Cullene. I missed how embraced and supported I really was, grounded by Cullene’s careful, nurturing nature, and braced by my dad’s belief in me.

Age and introspection have a way of clarifying things and I can easily recognise the benefits I receive from those of you who read my posts and are kind enough to support me through your comments. I may not always comment … I’m slow with email too, but I always, always, read and appreciate your thoughts and the time you take to share them.

Your interest in my words creates a lovely ripple effect in the pond of my emotional life and I am grateful for your continued presence and friendship.

Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate this day and thank you all for the gifts you share with me.

xo

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Ghosts Of Christmas Past – Feeling Connected

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Baby's First Christmas 1960

Harper Family Christmas - 1960 - Gene, Elizabeth, & Judy

I’ve always been someone who asked a lot of questions so much so that sometimes when I say,”John …” from another room he will answer with, ” Let me ask you something ” repeating words he’s heard me say many times before.

It’s disconcerting for some people, they think I’m being nosy or too intense, but all I really want to know is who they are and what matters most to them.

Years ago, someone said that he wished he could talk to his girlfriend the way he could me. He added that he felt connected to me in a way he wished he could have with her. I told him that I thought questions were important when it came to feeling connected and the reason he felt connected to me was because I’d encouraged him to share who he was by asking the right question.

I said that he needed to ask his girlfriend a few questions that mattered to him and then listen. Ask and listen … don’t think, plan your next question, or worry about having to fix anything, just ask your question and pay attention to the response. I heard later that they got married and from what I see on Facebook, they still look very happy together.

I wish I knew more of what my mother and father dreamed of for their own lives growing up and what kind of life they imagined for me that first Christmas. I wished I’d asked more questions when my father was living and my mother still speaking to me.

Sometimes we think we have forever … another year, another Christmas, another chance to connect and we put off important questions until it’s too late. People die or leave us in some way and the things that need saying are lost or never asked.

Don’t wait until it’s too late.

Think of the one question you wish you could ask and then consider what’s stopping you and move past it.