Category Archives: Photography

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One Word With Mixed Meaning For 2012: My Daily Five

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For the last few years I have chosen a word at the beginning of January designed to keep me honest and on track with my goals. I’m honest by nature so that wasn’t very challenging on it’s own and when it comes to accomplishing certain goals, I’m not sure they worked as well as I’d hoped.

So I’ve decided for 2012 that I need to get more specific and slightly boring about it.

I need a workhorse of a word to slog through the details that I hate. I need a better plan, one with more details and end dates otherwise I drift a bit too much in whatever direction I want to go for the day. Too many projects and nothing gets completed so I need a way to break it down.

Being naturally tangential can be great for ‘big picture’ people like me, but bad if you don’t have a team to share the detail work with. It’s all up to me what happens this year and I’d like to get a few more things done.

There’s nothing glamorous about this year’s word. It’s fairly boring like brushing your teeth or paying your bills on time … two areas that can’t be neglected without some obvious consequences.

The word I’ve chosen for 2012 is : DAILY – occurring, made, or acted upon every day

Because I tend to use mnemonic devices to remember things, I thought of a way to make my word ‘Daily’ even more useful to me. By breaking it down into the five letters that make up the word, I can assign a letter to each digit on my hand.

Here’s an example of why I need a little more help staying focused. When I looked at my hands and counted out D-A-I-L-Y, I was reminded of how rough my hands look most days. Due to loads of hand washing, (I’m germ conscious, but not obsessed) and not enough hand lotion use, I’ve always thought that my age was more obvious on the backs of my hands than on my face.

That belief may be changing soon as my face seems to be catching up, but I’m okay with that. I’ve got more important things to focus on than worrying about getting older, something that I’ve considered a privilege since my early 30s and even more so now as I see more people my age and younger dying too soon.

See what I mean about my tangential thinking needing help to focused … I started with a simple task assignment beginning with my thumb and the letter D and the next thing you know, my mind has moved on to aging and early death. That’s how it happens for me, one minute I’m here and the next I’m on to something else.

Which leads me to the DAILY five.

Here’s the short version.

D – Diet: My daily diet needs to be better, less sugar and more fruit & veg.

A – Appreciate: This one’s not usually an issue for me, but I want to be sure others in my
life feel it by being less distracted when I’m with them.

I – Imagine: I want to keep dreaming the big dreams. I love living with possibility.

L – Listen:  I have got to get better with this. I still talk way too much sometimes.

Y – Yield: The return on my investment of time, energy, and emotion, and is it worth it?

I’m keeping it simple to stay focused and hopefully it will be as easy as a DAILY wave of my hand.

How about you … any words or links to words of your own for 2012?

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Moments To Treasure In 2012, Happy New Year!

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This old sundial sits over the entryway to a church near the village where we live. Our church has one as well, but this one is my favorite for several reasons. The words on the face of it speak to two things that I always consider, how time is fleeting, and that we should pay attention to the moments before they are gone.

Something else that stays with me almost as much as the words is the obvious mistake. See where the word fly is tucked up into the far right corner … it looks as if the metal worker forgot it or miscalculated the space.

I like that it’s that word that is out-of-place, it looks more magical than mistake with a Peter Pan sort of quality as if it’s lifting off and taking flight rather than being squeezed in because he forgot it.

Made on June 21,1792 by someone I assume was a man given the date, T. Symons was also most likely a blacksmith since the sundial is made of metal.

I wonder if capitalizing the letter M in moments was because if he thought it deserved a bit more attention than the rest, an awareness gleaned from having lived long enough to know what it’s like to miss the moments that matter …

or

… maybe it was just another mistake because he was in a hurry to get home to his family while there was still a bit of sunshine left on a midsummer day.

That I’m thinking about the possibilities 220 years after he tapped it into the metal makes me wonder if a perfectly made piece would have made such an impact.

New Year’s Day is always a one of reflection for me and despite the distractions of today, I’m pleased to have a moment to dig for something deeper.

Happy New Year to each of you and I hope 2012 brings you many moments to treasure.

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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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Missing My Girl At Christmas

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Miranda, Asda, ComedyI knew it would be hard to live so far from my daughter when I moved to the UK and I knew there would be times when it would be more difficult, but must the Universe feel compelled to send me constant reminders at Christmas!

There’s a comedian here in the UK who shares my daughter’s name and this holiday season there seem to be television commercials and signs for her everywhere. It makes me want to shout, ‘Enough!’

My Miranda is never far from my thoughts. I generally have a photograph of her as my screen saver on my laptop and images and reminders of her are scattered throughout the house as well.

I won’t bore you with all of them, but some of my favorites are in the photos below. They’re mostly a few quick snaps from this morning taken in a way to avoid the dust and pre-Christmas mess so be advised they’re not my best work.

This photo was taken by my brother-in-law, Leon when Miranda was not much more than one. It’s the first thing I see when I walk into my studio space.

I had this copy of one of my favorite pictures of me with Miranda put on canvas last summer. It was pre-digital and the best copy I could find so it could not be reproduced any larger and keep the sharpness. I love seeing this when I do my hair and makeup in front of the mirror in the hall of my studio.

I have a more recent of photo of Miranda on my desktop, but I try not to put any taken too recently on the blog to give her a smidge of privacy. She was in a friend’s wedding last month and looked so pretty in her role as maid of honor that I wanted to post it, but not without discussing it first.

She made this when she was in pre-school or kindergarten and it sits in an old piece of furniture I rescued years ago from a barn on my grandmother’s property.

I keep a dresser tucked behind the sliding glass doors in my studio that house my closet or wardrobe as they would call it here. ( More can be seen in this post )

It’s here that I keep a few bowls that Miranda made me when she was a little girl and there are some cards from her and photos as well.

The puppy pic is her precious boy and the picture below is from our mother-daughter camp days.

 These dusty images are next to the bed and the bookmark is one she gave me about five years ago.

This was from a Christmas photo taken in 2009. It was my only other Christmas without her and I used a big bowl she painted when she was young to give us an angel in the dining area here. The ornament was only there for the holiday.

Angel Bowl I went through a big angel phase about twelve years ago and Miranda really made me smile when she made this gift for me.

I like to keep a favorite photo of Miranda in the kitchen and I see it every time I come into the house as we almost always enter through the kitchen door.

She’s twelve in this photo taken in Paris when we went for the Millennium New Year in 2000.

Finally, here’s a shot from when I tried to grow Sweet-Peas in the back garden because it was my nickname for her when she was a baby. I need to add that I’m not known for my gardening skills and my poor plants did not flourish or even sprout.

Miranda’s work keeps her too busy to visit during the month of December and she has little time for much else until January. I think next year I may suggest that I fly to see her in January and so we can celebrate Christmas on January 6th, the original date for early Christians.

Anyone else out there having to get creative about how they see family during holiday celebrations?  

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George Whitman & Shakespeare And Company

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Shakespeare & Company, Paris, George Whitman

Shakespeare And Company - September 2010 - Elizabeth Harper (In Red)

I was sad to read this morning that George Whitman had died, but as he was 98 and appeared to have lived the life he wanted almost to the end, I think my sad feelings were more out of concern for the end of an era than the death of a man I had not met.

His only child, Sylvia Beach Whitman has been managing the famous bookstore for some time and I imagine it will continue to be a haven for those who wish to pop in to an English-speaking bookstore while in Paris.

I’ve been fortunate to visit Paris four times, the first of which was when I was 19 in late December 1979. I remember being focused on seeing the Louvre and Notre-Dame and excited to be in Paris for New Year’s Eve, but I don’t remember stopping by Shakespeare And Company at that time.

Shakespeare And Company - February 2009 - Elizabeth Harper (In Brown)

Ten years later I went back to Paris with my then 12 year-old daughter, Miranda for the millennium New Year celebration and made time to visit the bookstore and have the wet looking photo below taken while I was there.

Shakespeare & Company - December 1999

There’s generally a lot of activity both inside and out of Shakespeare And Company and the photo above gives you a glimpse of what I’m talking about. I always love sneaking a peek over the shoulders of artists who stop to paint and over to the left you can see another part of the bookstore which deals with antiquarian books.

Notice the man dressed in white … I thought he looked a bit like author, Tom Wolfe.

Speaking of artists, that’s my talented sister Margaret coming though the door having just made a purchase. I always look for something special when I’m there. I particularly like the stamp you can get when you buy a book.

Shakespeare And Company Stamp

There’s an inscription I can’t read in my book and I thought maybe one of my French-speaking friends could help out with a translation.

The bookstore is full of quirky places that I did not photograph, but this blogger has some great interior shots.

Ahhh … the side with the books I covet, but can’t afford.

 Sigh …

Thanks to my Paris based friend, Kim who alerted me to the death of George Whitman on Facebook with a link to this great NYTimes article on his life and passing.

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One Boy’s Life & Mine

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John Winchurch - Sea Cadets - Wales (Double-click to enlarge)

If you look, you can see my husband in this photograph watching with eyes that are no longer a boy’s, but not quite a man’s yet either.

Growing up in Wales he had the benefit of living half a mile from the harbor in Tenby where he sailed the boat he built with his younger brother’s help. They were both Sea Cadets and for a while John thought he’d join the Royal Navy when he was older. His father talked him into waiting. ‘ Go to University first,’ he said,’ you can always join the Navy afterwards.’

By going to the University at Cardiff, John chose a different path than the one he imagined as a boy and although he never joined the Navy, he still loves the sea. He doesn’t look back the way I tend to and he doesn’t waste energy on regret. Most of my life, I’ve learned by observation and his way looks more peaceful than the route I usually take.

I’ve spent years reading books on letting go, forgiving yourself, and moving on, but living side by side with such a peaceful loving man, I find myself absorbing his natural way of living more in the moment. While I am not wholly a woman without worry and likely never will be, I can see myself changing as my tendency to cast wistful glances of regret over my shoulder at the past, slips away a bit more each day.

It’s funny how the decisions in our life seem to stack up like dominos with those made years earlier affecting the path we find ourselves on later. Fifty years after this photograph was taken and when the time was right, John’s path converged with mine.

I think about that when I look back at decisions I’ve made in my life, especially the ones that I’ve wished I could undo, but one thing done differently and it would all be different.

Can you find my future in the photograph …

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A Bird In The Bush

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Bird In The Bush

I was hooded and in a hurry, moving quickly to avoid the rain while trying to track my husband’s movement on a hill some distance away. I’d lingered behind to take ‘ just one more picture ‘ and he’d gone on ahead as he often does when we’re out together.

Partially hidden by high bushes edging the path, I could see him waving both arms over his head like a stranded survivor signaling a rescue team for pickup. Having confirmed his general location, I returned his wave, then turned and went back down the path.

I’d almost missed the bird in my rush to catch up, but a flash of movement in the brown thicket triggered my curiosity and I went back to find a little bird eating what was left of the summer seeds. Its color was almost identical to the dried plants around it and had it not moved, I would have missed it completely.

It took some maneuvering to get this shot as the bird kept turning its back to me. It seemed unafraid and appeared to ignore me as I stepped closer and called out softly to gets its attention, ‘Hey birdie, birdie.’ Whistling had no effect either, but when I made a series of clicking sounds with my tongue, the bird turned, looked at me, and held a pose long enough for me to snap a few photos.

We did this several times before I left it to its meal in the rain.

 

 

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Balancing Acts – NaNoWriMo Week 2

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There have been many times in my life where I focused too much on the needs and expectations of my employer. I’ve always prided myself on doing the best job possible and sometimes, make that many times, my personal life has suffered. I won’t go into all the reasons, but fear, ego, and a strong desire not to disappoint would top the list.

Financial fear was most compelling when I was a single mom and it’s fear that can still launch me into hyperdrive. Only now it’s not such much about money, but more about delivering what I’ve talked about for years.

Many of you know that I am participating in NaNoWriMo this year for the first time and I really appreciate the messages of support I’ve received since I wrote about it here.

I took two days off from writing last week trying to find some balance between my darling, undemanding husband, my part-time job, and my work on the novel, and then couldn’t find my way back to the sweet spot of inspiration I had before my time off turned into a into a plot-line procrastination fest.

Having never written a novel before, I find myself getting bogged down in problem solving such as how to move a character from one period in time to another along with a whole host of what I tend to think of as ‘housekeeping’ issues. I’ll have to talk more about ‘housekeeping’ and what I mean by that later as the sun is well up now and I need to get to work.

I am way behind on my word count and my characters are standing around looking so bored that I’m afraid if I leave them much longer on their own, they’ll move on like Pirandello’s, Six Character’s in Search of an Author.

I should be back here in a day or two, but the only promise I’m making now is to getting more words on paper. I’m a long way from the 50,000 I need to make it a successful NaNoWriMo experience, but I’m still committed.

I’m leaving you with a few pictures from our day out last week. These were taken close to home at places we’re been many times before.

It’s interesting how easy it can be to discover new things if you’re open to revisiting familiar places.

If you need me, I’ll be at my desk.

         

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What I Missed Today

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Mist hanging over the Camel Valley 25 Oct 2011 - John Winchurch

John went out for a short walk a little while ago and I stayed in because I have to be somewhere in a few minutes and I thought it might rain.

I wanted you to see what I missed because I was worried my hair might get wet.

What a waste!

I could have gone with wet hair or taken a minute to blow it dry, but I opted to skip the walk instead. In the future, I must remember there’s always more than one option.