Identity

Sometimes it is best to let go of
"Good dog," "Good kitty"
And be your wild child.

To engage in the chase
To be DOG and CAT,
CANINE and FELINE
To step up and own what you are.

To take joy in your
true nature.

Light and Shadow

I snapped this shot of my two nieces at play earlier in the summer. I love the contrast between the two girls, Catherine, in front, dressed in shorts and tee shirt, running in full tomboy glory. Tori in the background, a little girl striking a grown-up pose. It is another one of those pictures that could make adults uncomfortable, but this was not posed. I was lucky enough to catch these two little girls playing in the light and shadow, offering a glimpse of their many facets, reflecting the women they will one day become.

Connection

Children, like animals, have a language all their own. It takes getting down on their level and intently listening and watching to begin to understand it. The major difference is that while animals are always speaking "animal" even when we don't know what they are saying, the language of children is even more esoteric. Like fairies and other magical creatures, the inner world of children seems to evaporate if it comes in direct contact with that of an adult. Still, there are ways to glimpse it. One must be very quiet, so as not to spook them and to stay on the periphery and observe. I can capture their language, their world, better with my lens than my eyes because it is so fleeting. it hints at the future, of the people they will become.

In the moments when their secret world becomes visible, there is a maturity, a strength, and yet, also a vulnerability that makes adults uncomfortable. We often prefer our animals and our children to be cute, cuddly, juvenile. They are more complex than this. They have inner lives that we are not privy to -- thoughts, emotions and ways of playing and being that are foreign to us. The miracle with both children and animals is that sometimes, somehow we connect with what we do not fully understand.

Adamant

Attended the QuarryWork's Theater production of Murder at the Quarry in Adamant, Vt. tonight. Went with my friends Joan and Jane and Jane's friend, Sue. I took this photo overlooking the quarry and the water below. Much to post but it's late and tomorrow is Sunday, a day of rest, so smile, enjoy and I'll be back tomorrow.

Sea of Green

In summer's sea of greenlow hanging branches walk the earth like aliens Primeval dancers claiming the woods for their own. I am left to watch and wonder what seas I have trodden as boldly. I am challenged to dance along uncharted shores.

Day at Joan's

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Just returned from a long, happy day at my friend Joan's and I am very tired. Thought I ought to update those of you who follow the blog on two things. First, Charlie the Gnome, named after Joan's late husband, is now fully painted. I'm thrilled with how he came out. I had some trouble mixing the correct color for his boots. I thought we had purchased brown paint, but we hadn't, so I mixed a purplish brown color and added a red wash over the top. Also, I think his yellow leggings are kind of snazzy.

Joan's husband Charlie loved gnomes, so this fellow is really a tribute to him. It was actually Charlie's gnome. Joan wants to move him down the driveway to her new home, but when we tried to pick him up earlier this summer, we broke his right hand off. We purchased some epoxy and glued it and it seems to be holding, but we may put his red, duct tape "cast" back on after his sleeve dries.

Painting Charlie is symbolic of a lot of things -- he is a link to Joan's past, the days spent in her old house with Charlie, but painting him is a celebration of the future, the days ahead in her new house with her pugs. Somehow, once I entered the doors of "Pugdom," her home in Warren, Vt, years ago, I became part of her story. It served me well, I was looking for something -- friendship, community, a place to escape and belong, something for my heart to latch on to -- and I found it. So, now I paint gnomes and name puppies, while her other friend, Jane, cleans the garage, moving years worth of stuff down the road to "3C," the new house.

In addition to painting Charlie, I got to spend some time with the new puppies today. Five in all, three big black boys, one black girl, and one little black boy -- the one I call Batman. He is about half the size of the others, but he seems to be thriving, he's just tinier than his siblings. I think this is a picture of him, although it's hard for me to tell. Everytime I picked him up, Waffles, his aunt would get all upset. She was more worried than Griffles, his mom. They all seem healthy and strong. I look forward to seeing them open their eyes.

Shadows and Light

My sister-in-law Gretchin brought her sister and niece to my grandmother's pool this evening where we all enjoyed the day's last rays of sunlight. I took some lovely images of Gretchin's niece, Julia Grace, in this light. The shadow picture on the left and the middle portrait are not manipulated in any way. The final panel on the right I am making into a collage and this is the draft of it. I thought the three pieces went well together, so I added some text and tried them as a poster.

The text reads: "Shine little girl in the darkness and the light. Your shadow warms the waning sun. Your eyes hold its receding rays."

The Secret Spot

Obviously, this is not a picture of me, but I feel as if it captures my spirit. It is a picture of my niece, Tori, and my pug, Alfie, prancing across the plot of land my family calls "The Secret Spot." It is my land, 10 acres, where one day I hope to build my house. But before it became mine legally, it belonged to my grandparents, part of the acreage that accompanied the one-room schoolhouse that they grew into a camp and in turn, a home.

They purchased the schoolhouse in Bethel, Vt. back when my mom was young and they would travel up from Long Island to visit there. The Secret Spot became her spot, the place where she would run to be alone, pray, write songs. Secluded, it hid from the road, an open meadow dwarfed by sentinel-like trees.

After I was born and I heard the family stories, I somehow adopted my mother's Secret Spot as my own. My grandfather, BZ, would take us grandchildren for walks there in the evening with kerosene lamps and we would catch fireflies in a jar. Like my mother, I would go there to cry and dream and I dreamed of a day when I could call this land home.

When my grandfather died and my grandmother decided to sell the schoolhouse, I claimed this land as mine. She subdivided giving me my plot and selling the schoolhouse to my brother. I plan one day to live here. When I first adopted Vader, I was sure he and Buffy would make their home here with me. It didn't happen in their lifetime. Buffy, Vader and Mira passed, but Alfie is here now roaming the field with Tori and the ghost of the child I was and the dreams of the future that remain. One doesn't need a house to call a place home.

Catching the Pieces

I was walking through the beautiful gardens at Shelburne Farms the other day, taking in the gorgeous display of flowers when I stumbled upon the dying remains of this lovely girl. I love how she still shines so bright even in her last dying moments. How the one petal catches and holds all the remnants of life around her. She does not go gently into the night, but beams, reveling in the here and now.

Find Your Light, Bask in its Sun