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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Time

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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Black & White or Monochrome

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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Framing

Palace of the Governors, New Mexico History Museum
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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Work in Progress

“I am a work in progress dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding.” — Ani DiFranco

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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Overlooked

Alcove House, Bandelier National Monument, New Mexico
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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Simplicity

“If you will stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

The presence of water.

A healthy diversity of insects.

Plants that produce food.

Yesterday, I went walking with a friend who writes biology curriculum for Montessori schools. We went to Iron Mountain in the Cascade range, one of my favorite places to climb for a stunning view of volcanic peaks. However, we didn’t climb much. We walked quite slowly, noticing the incredible biodiversity of plant life. She identified orchids smaller than my pinkie nail (Twayblade orchid), and we took lots of photos.

“If you can’t explain it to a six year old, you don’t understand it yourself.”
― Albert Einstein

I often think of Life as incredibly complex – this great, interconnected web of diversity and specialization. However, when I slow down and sit with it, Life is as simple as being breathed. We are as we are.

And that’s what I might say to a six-year-old.

Many thanks to Mr. Philo of Philosophy Through Photography for this challenge. May we live simply and simply live.

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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Kitchen Inspiration

My mug shot:

Our guest host for this week has come up with a brilliant theme: Inspiration from the Kitchen. Her blog post shows an incredible artistry with this subject and technically stunning photographs. Do visit!

The subject of kitchens, of food and hearth, the center of a home, strikes a very emotional place for many of us, I suspect. Looking at the rich textures and sumptuous opulence of some of the photos I’ve seen so far, I began to feel rather sad, perhaps…nostalgic? I live in a studio apartment, and my kitchen is a simple L-shaped corner of the 700 square feet of my dwelling. This is my first time living alone. My kitchen doesn’t make me think of beauty or art or pride. However, I took a closer look and created a Mug Shot that has great meaning for me. The coffee mug was a Christmas gift from my housemates who live on the other side of the wall. They welcomed me to Oregon with this amazing opportunity to live deep in the woods on family-owned property going back generations. The backdrop is a painting done by my daughter-in-law, who is the most creative and inspirational cook I know. Her smoked/marinated/grilled/sauced/garnished dishes show layers and layers of cultural influence and bold experimentation. The cutting board was also a gift from a family member. It is wooden and incredibly useful, and I’m really glad to have it. So, in my kitchen, I find I am supported by friends and family, which is comforting because otherwise I might simply stand alone eating ingredients over the kitchen sink.

My heritage…

I grew up in awe of my mother’s mastery at cooking and serving gourmet meals. She created grand, formal dinners at my father’s request. I was not permitted to help in any truly participatory fashion. I could do small tasks. For family dinners, I could make a salad. When she was making a pie, I could pray that the top crust could be lifted and placed perfectly without cracking. My mother called this pie-praying. I was not allowed to touch. I was the youngest of four daughters, and I know her culinary skills were handed down to my oldest sister. As the mother of four of my own, I know that sometimes it’s just easier to do it yourself. I do not harbor any ill-will about this chapter of a complex family history. It’s just a fascinating scenario. We are all influenced by such basic stories.

The photo above shows a demitasse cup and saucer that I took before the sale of my mother’s estate as a small reminder of the dining room china – 12 settings, decorated in platinum. My mother collected several different sets of china, thinking that each of her four daughters would need one. However, life and lifestyles have changed. Her grandchildren have absolutely no desire to own china. Lace tablecloths fill the drawers of the curio cabinet I inherited from my mother-in-law. And I sit alone at my grandmother’s cherry dining table as I type this. Two leaves are hidden below the tabletop. There could be 8-10 people around it…and there have been at times, years ago.

But my everyday life is not lace and china and silver. It’s Douglas Fir trees and hiking boots and granola in a dish from the dollar store.

And that is my inspiration and my cup of tea right now.

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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Telling a Story

I have to admit that when I saw this week’s challenge theme, I immediately thought of this series of photos I took about 30 years ago of my mother reading a story book to my niece.

How does one photo allude to a story line, an interaction, a web of relationships or events? I think one element might be action, another context. Perhaps the picture begs a question and sends you in search of an explanation.

Just for the record, I have absolutely no idea what the people crawling on the beach were doing. I captured the image at Natural Bridges State Beach in Santa Cruz, CA. My own hypothesis is that these were students from UC Santa Cruz doing some kind of observation or exercise about marine biology. Could they be searching for evidence of some life form? What story would you tell?

Thanks to Patti for this week’s challenge and for the wonderful stories she illustrates on her blog.

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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Fragments

Our guest host, Brian of bushboys world, sets out a poetic challenge this morning in wisps of memory, a fragrant breeze, a wistful thought, a glimpse behind a curtain of time.

Fragments begin an exploration of extrapolation…what is mssng? How to fll t n? Perhaps all photography is fragmentary. No image captures it all. I am reminded of an exercise I once did in art class. We were given a small card with a simple configuration of lines. We were to paste it onto a bigger piece of paper and create a larger drawing around it. In other words, we were given a fragment and asked to reconstruct a whole, using as much imagination as we could muster.

I love Brian’s invitation. It’s as if he said, “Once upon a time….your turn.”
And off you go, Lens-Artists! I look forward to seeing what has sparked your imagination.

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Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: What’s Bugging You?

I’m beginning to think that maybe Donna of Wind Kisses might be a secret sister to me. I love her challenge to us this week! Last week it was bilingual 3rd graders, this week it was Kindergarteners (70 in all) who sang this song with me:

“Head, thorax, abdomen, abdomen
Head, thorax abdomen, abdomen
Two antennae, four wings and six legs
And don’t forget the exoskeleton!”
OR
“Cabeza, tórax, abdomen, abdomen
Cabeza, tórax, abdomen, abdomen
Dos antenas, cuatro alas y seis patas
Y tambien el exoesqueleto!”

So, which of you Lens-Artists have a dung beetle in your photo archives? This specimen was living on the prairies of South Dakota. Could be elk or buffalo dung it was rolling around into a perfect sphere. I wish I had video to show you how he rolled it with his back legs until the slope’s gravity pulled him up over the top, facing skyward. Fascinating!

Another beetle. Ladybugs feature in nursery rhymes and seem pretty harmless, but my middle daughter discovered at Girl Scout camp that they bite, and so grew to be somewhat afraid of them, especially when some meaner girls threatened to fill her sleeping bag with them.

Okay, I’ll post some of the more glamorous bugs that everyone loves.

…and I’ll post some things that aren’t bugs just to see if you’ll jump.

I think it’s always good to meet the neighbors who sit on other branches of the Tree of Life, get acquainted, and learn to appreciate them. Most of them were here long before we were! I think they make great teachers.