Fun Stuff

Recently, I opened an email from the instructors of a workshop I'll be attending next month. It will be several days of shooting photos on the Oregon Coast for which I am hugely excited: The light playing off of sand and sea. The thought of capturing quiet, moody scenes; of telling a story in tones of blue and tan. Of instructing my camera to record the monochromatic drama of a foggy morning on the shore or the noisy colors of a seaside town.

All of the above make my heart beat just a bit faster, so when I saw that the subject line of this email read 'fun stuff', I thought 'Yep, it will be.....Can't wait". I scrolled through the message and found that there were a couple of assignments for participants to turn in beforehand. Cool! I love assignments. Love learning. 

The first one asked that we return a collection of 25 or so favorite images we had taken so they would be able to consider ways to work individually with each of us before we all meet up in Oregon. They wanted to find out what kinds of images we like to shoot and be able to identify themes within our work. Sounds good. I was pretty sure I could come up with these and set about placing a few, that to my eyes anyway, were "good" into a desktop file. Turns out, this was a bit more difficult than I thought it would be: 

'I really love this one.....but what will they think? This image speaks to me, but have I made it clear why? I put a lot of thought into this photograph.....but will they understand what it meant to me? Are any of these even......GOOD'??

The second assignment asked the opposite: The request was for a collection of 'misses'; in other words, images we've taken that for whatever reason simply didn't work out. Whaaatt?? My first thought was to politely shoot back a response letting them know I don't normally show people those. That if it was more difficult than I thought it would be to pull together some of my more decent images to show, then sharing any misses might be kind of too personal and embarrassing and.......Oh Geez.....cringe-worthy.

Of course, the reason for this second assignment is that there is just as much to be learned from figuring out what doesn't work as in finding out what does. That pin-pointing the reasons for a miss can translate into more successful and productive time behind the lens. This is perfectly logical. It makes perfect sense. As part of the workshop these two professionals were offering to look at my work from all angles and give me a few pointers so that I might become a better photographer. But still, it meant showing a couple of people who I aspire to be like just a little.......who maybe in some small way I would like to impress with my skills.......some of my worst artistic choices in the form of digital disasters. Why couldn't they simply want look at work I think is good (or even OK) and take it from there?

Years ago, the first time I had a piece of writing critiqued by an entire classroom full of writers, I was a such a nervous wreck I could hardly pay attention to the discussion. After class I quietly collected a manila envelope containing the 30 or so copies of my story marked up with my classmates comments and suggestions, took it home and stuck it, unopened, inside the cupboard above my desk. And even though I had participated with honest effort in this exercise by reading, reviewing and writing constructive criticism and comments on the stories of the others in the class, it still took me a month or more to open it up and read my own. And when I did, I learned a whole lot.

After a couple of days I concluded (correctly) that hesitating to participate in this way made me somewhat of a hypocrite. Me.......the person who constantly encourages my kids and anyone else who will listen to scoot out of their own personal comfort zone and make the time and effort to pursue whatever it is they're most interested in........was having a difficult time thinking about doing just that. It made me feel uncomfortable......vulnerable......like I would be choosing to expose my soft underbelly, and I was reacting like a big chicken. And yet I know it's a necessary part of the process. An important part of the journey.

I think that sometimes in my hurry to learn, my rush to get where I want to be, I am tempted to hop, skip and jump over the small steps. Fortunately, I've been able to figure out that as unsettling as those steps may be, it is even more precarious and difficult to travel backward in order to figure out what I may have missed. I've learned that following a passion (at the risk of utilizing a very overworked phrase) isn't always about becoming GOOD, or even aspiring to BE GOOD, at what ever said passion might be. And it's not AT ALL about being validated, and CERTAINLY SHOULDN'T have anything to do with expecting praise. The truth is that in doing something you enjoy over and over again, one cannot help but become better at it. And in photography the rewards are this: With repetition and in paying close attention to results (whether they be awe-inspiring or astoundingly miserable) one inches ever closer to expressing the thoughts, stories and pictures created in ones imagination within the confines of a visible image.

So I twitched, grumbled and cringed my way through a recent catalog of photographs, stopping to pay attention only to the ones previously deemed worthy of the desktop trashcan. I decided which unfortunate clicks of the shutter I should include in the file labeled Assignment #2 and sent them off, together with Assignment #1.

I don't particularly love to look at my failures and showing them to anyone else is something I like even less. But it makes a difference, and giving them due attention is just as important in the growth process as enjoying the feeling I get with something that 'worked'.

Wishing you a wonderful weekend! I'm going berry picking tomorrow!

Warmly, Margaret

Sparkling

Have you ever wondered about sparkling wine?  How it's made? About it's history? Technically you can only call it champagne if it's made in France.... but even a few of the restaurants we recently visited in the Napa Valley referred to it as champagne.

Sparkling wine isn't something I normally order, except for some reason on our anniversary, but when a waiter suggested it one evening......I didn't think it was a bad idea. After all, our recent trip was partially about trying out new flavors, we were eating French food and had decided on a plate of fruit and cheeses before dinner. During our conversation he mentioned he was studying to become a master sommolier, so I asked him to choose the wine for me. When he let me know what he would be bringing, I noticed the man at a nearby table smile at his dinner companion. I must have given him a quizzical look, because he motioned toward her and said, "She made that. It's her sparkling wine." Turns out I was seated next to the president and founding winemaker of the winery that my sparkling glass of bubbly came from. By the way it was delicious. And very special to be able to tell her so.

Although we intended to tour her winery at some point during the week, we somehow didn't make it. We did, however, manage, to tour another place in the area, Shramsberg, well known for its sparkling wines.  We walked through dimly lit caves that smelled earthy and sweet, and listened to a guide show and tell us what, in their opinion, makes their wines special. We watched the rapid rise of bubbles in cold flutes and tasted by candlelight. We saw photographs of presidents, princesses and first ladies raising glasses of it and learned that one variety (Blanc de Blanc) was the wine President Nixon served on his historic 1972 trip to China.

It was somewhat of a challenge to photograph in low light and with no flash or tripod, but I made an attempt. The images I captured allowed me to bring an unforgettable experience home with me....to prolong it a bit further. Those and the few bottles we ordered......

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.......again....Cheers!

Warmly, Margaret

Home Again

A short piece I wrote about adjusting to the fact that my children are now adults was published at www.mamalode.com yesterday, which was kind of funny timing.  It was posted on the day we were returning to a newly 'emptied nest' after a trip to Missoula to visit Peter and Joey. The day a moving van picked up the rest of Patrick's things, and that he boarded a plane to go live in Indianapolis 'for good'. Timing......

Here is the link. Hope you will check it out:

http://www.mamalode.com/blog/2011/10/17/almost-there/#more-7647

After a couple stops, one at Hudson's Hamburgers in Coeur D'Alene for lunch and one to visit with my parents, we returned home tired, but happy nonetheless. It was a great trip but good to be home. The dog was so happy to see us.

We have heard mention of Hudson's quite a few times and have often talked about stopping in to try one of their famous burgers. On this trip, however, we were actually hungry at the same time we passed through! 

If you decide to stop in, this is what you will get: an uncomplicated menu, a good burger and 104 years of family tradition. There are few choices and I believe the current menu is the same as the original. Hamburgers, cheeseburgers, and egg or ham and egg sandwiches. Burger patties are formed and cooked, and pickles and onions sliced on the other side of the counter......the only seating in this small place. I loved it. The cook was the original owner's great grandson.

Good. Simple. Family.

The drive home from start to finish was beautiful. Fall colors on both Lolo and Fourth of July Passes were stunning. Aspen shimmered and glowed golden, and underbrush flamed shades of red and orange. At this point, the larch are barely beginning to turn......just a few shades lighter......but by next week the hillsides should look like a massive a quilt of green and gold.

Once we hit central Washington, the sunset seemed to last forever. The trees, old barns, horses, cattle and farmland that we passed were set against a backdrop of deep blue and pink. Long wisps of clouds looked painted onto the evening sky and we watched the foreground turn into black silhouettes against it.  No time to stop for pictures,  just enjoying the memory.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead......

Warmly,

Margaret

The Way It Goes

We're planning a Road Trip to Missoula to visit Peter and Joey. Life has been somewhat of a whirlwind these days as far as our family is concerned.....our front door seemingly in constant motion with all of the comings and goings. No longer is the time we spend with each other predictable. Gone are the days with schedules; knowing what time the boys will get up, leave or come home on a daily basis. When I know exactly when or if  they will be able to show up. Jobs, school, opportunities......It's a different stage of life and any attempts at predictability are futile..

We see each other when it's possible with no expectations. Each visit will be made the best of.  As it turns out, the one who now lives the farthest away will be home for a few days while we are in a different state visiting his brothers. When we return, we'll see him for just a few minutes, if at all.

We're home, they're not. They're home.....we're not. Our relationships are about love, priorities and timing. Appreciating each visit for what it is. Being thankful that we live in an age where long distance communication is fast, inexpensive and easy. 

And that's the way it goes......

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

XO, Margaret

PS. You can read about my love of a good Road Trip , specifically our trips to Missoula MT, here!

A Couple Favorites

A few things have gone on this past month and I wrote about a couple of them for the website Make It Missoula.

First, we moved Joey back to Missoula for his second year at the University of Montana. I love that place. The school is such a good fit for him and he's happy there. As a parent, I couldn't ask for more and am so thankful. Hard not to think about This Time Last Year when we moved him in for the first time. Always a little hard to let go.....

I also wrote about a favorite place we've been visiting for years, Big Dipper Ice Cream. Super tasty scoops, homemade in small batches......and the flavors range from the traditional to the very nontraditional. Always fun to check in with them when we're in town and see what they've come up with! A couple of my favorites: Tangerine Sorbet and Chocolate Espresso Chip. Thank goodness we walk a lot while we're there!

Hope you'll take a quick read! I've provided the links.

Cheers!
Margaret

Nineteen

I had a few things going on last week, not the least of which was packing up the Suburban to help my youngest settle into his sophomore year of college in Missoula. He moved in to a rental house this year and unlike the small rectangle of a dorm room he inhabited last year, there is quite a bit more space. Quite a bit more space meant traveling with quite a few more things in order to help furnish a kitchen, a living room, a back yard and a bedroom. We got out of town at the time we planned (somewhat unusual for us...) and moved across the state carrying clothes in a suitcase, in bags and on hangars. We carried sheets, towels, mixing bowls, kitchen utensils, plates, cups, bowls, chairs and his bike. There were important items from Costco and Target runs we had made before the trip, as well as a few things from home we managed to fit in for his brother who lives there full time.

What we couldn't find room for greeted me in the entry way as soon as I returned home and will have to be carted over next time. They are items that aren't necessary at this point in the year anyway...like his snowboard gear and a couple more chairs. We did forget and leave the cardboard tube of posters behind, however. He thinks it's pretty urgent that they are sent over ASAP.

You know how you can learn a lot about a person when you're in a bit of a crisis? Like how they handle their emotions under pressure. How they think on the fly. Whether they fall apart or keep it together with a cool head. If they tend to think of themselves first or whether it is just natural for them to reach out and take care of some one else.

My youngest is just an easy going and pretty helpful kid by nature, so when the fuel pump gave out as I hurtled across the state at 70 mph....I was fortunate he was in the seat next to me. Although I had to wake him from a road trip induced slumber, he quickly snapped to and figured out what was going on much faster than I might have with a sleepy-foggy brain. As my car lost speed he reminded me to turn on the emergency flashers and motioned to those passing on our right that we needed to make it over to the wider right hand shoulder of the road. Once safely parked (if it is ever safe to be parked on the side of an interstate!), he used his smart phone to look up hotels and repair shops in the nearest town while I was on mine with AAA. He helped me talk through the decision to be towed all the way to Spokane, which although it would be more expensive, would work out best in the long run since we could stay with my parents for free.

What really did this mom's heart good however was when after digging around in the back seat for a minute, he pulled out a small towel to keep the 90+ degree heat off my head. And that he shared ice cubes with me from the one fountain drink we traveled with. And when he unzipped his guitar from it's case, sat on the edge of the back seat and started playing one of the few tunes he knows so far. Those things.....they make a difference.

We arrived in Missoula the following day and met up with Marc and Peter a few hours later than originally planned. It all ended well. Our car is driving great. He's moved in and settled, and we had a lot of fun during our stay.

Something else that does this mom's heart good: I'm pretty sure he's OK without us. He hugged and kissed us as we left and reminded us not to be strangers....as if he needed to. Last I heard he was spending a lot of time with his friends floating the river and barbequeing in the back yard during this week before school starts. Ahhhhh......19.

Have a wonderful weekend,

Margaret

A Few Pictures From Boston



The Granary Burying Ground where Paul Revere, Samuel Adams and John Hancock are buried. One grave simply said "Frank, Servant to John Hancock Esq lies interr'd here". Another, which visitors had placed pennies on the dirt in front of, was supposedly the grave of the original Mother Goose .







The Frog Pond



Detail from Paul Revere House, built in 1680



The kindest man. He stopped us on the street to let us know what was important to see in his neighborhood, The North End.



My favorite person to travel with.

Things I loved about our few days in Boston...a city I hadn't been to before:

The very old pressed right up against the very new. The food. The friendly people who knew everything about their city and wanted to share it with us. Watching sailboats and sculls practice on the river. That almost everywhere I turned some piece of history, art, literature or culture was referenced. Cobblestone and brick roads and walkways. Walking around the North End in the evening while it was snowing. The college students in the coffee shops. That you can follow the Freedom Trail by a red brick line in the sidewalk. Making mental notes about what we will do next time. That I think I could be in that city for a year and not run out of new things to do or photograph.

One thing I noticed is that there are sculptures everywhere that commemorate almost anything you could imagine. My favorites were George Washington on his horse, Benjamin Franklin, the frogs at The Frog Pond and the Make Way For Ducklings ducks. I also loved The Ether Monument, which commemorates....yes...the first use of  general anesthesia during surgery. And it is huge. And ornate.

Hope you have a wonderful week!

 Margaret

Sustenance......Boston

These are a few places we picked up nourishment around Boston this week. We stopped by Thinking Cup for seriously great coffee and baked goods three times in two days......it was that good. It was funny to me that they use Stumptown Coffee which is roasted in Portland and Seattle. I traveled all the way across the country to taste it for the first time and now will definitely look for some closer to home. We also had an amazing lunch at the Blackstone Grill: homemade chicken pot pie and a cold beer. Again.....delicious. Flaky pastry on top with a filling that TASTED homemade. Both places are close to the Freedom Trail. Good thing we walked a lot......

The frame detail  and plaque is from the mezzanine of the Omni Parker Hotel. The plaque says:

Mirror from the rooms at the Parker House occupied by Charles Dickens 1867 & 1868. Authenticated by the Boston Branch of the Dickens Fellowship.

"Look closely and see reflections of Dickens as he practiced 'A Christmas Carol"."

This was where he gave his first American reading of A Christmas Carol, one of my favorite books. Marc took me to the ACT theater in Seattle on our second date to see it performed and we've returned many of the years since. When I looked around there were references to other writers that either visited or stayed here: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Louisa May Alcott, Harriet Beecher Stowe. I need to go back and find out more.

Sustenance: Food, drink and other necessities of life......

Have a wonderful weekend.

Warmly,
 Margaret

What Makes Us Who We Are....Part Two.....

Marc contacted Cimego's Minister of Culture before we arrived so we could make the most of our time there....who by the way shares his family name of Bertini. How fortunate that he could spend part of an evening and several hours the next day with us, even though he now lives and works a few hours away. He told us about the village he grew up in and filled Marc in on some probable relatives still in the area. We were invited to a town council meeting that night, but were too exhausted and hungry to go. Although we had to point and guess a little, we successfully ordered wine and scotch in the bar, but thank goodness our guide showed up in time to help interpret the menu. He spoke perfect English, sat with us at dinner and encouraged Marc's questions about history and food and customs.

The following day we wandered the village and spent quite a bit of time looking through a house that was kept as a museum, probably much the same as the one his great grandparents would have lived in. Afterward, we visited the home of the town's last remaining blacksmith. He had passed just a month earlier and both lived and worked there with his sole source of power harnessed from a stream with a water wheel. On a short hike in the surrounding woods we walked through an area that was part of the Italian front during WWI and spent a few minutes inside a bunker.  Strange how, surrounded by the fall foliage, it felt so similar to places we hike at home. I couldn't help but think about the people who were once there......are there now......and how different and not so different our world's are.

 Cimego is the lower village. The upper group of buildings is a separate village.

   

 Church door

Period tool

Blacksmith's home

The woods above Cimego.