Boys will Be Boys

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It is easy for me to take pictures of my nieces, to enter their little girl worlds and catch a glimpse of the women they will become. It is harder with my nephews. Boys, even the quiet ones, are rarely still. And, their imaginations takes them to places that are foreign to me.
I went apple picking with two of my nephews, Raine and Avery, and my niece Tori this afternoon. My nephew Avery is a middle child and a pretty unique kid. He observes and has a great quiet smile that spreads into an amazing grin across his freckled face when he is amused. I often joke that he is an alien sent from another planet, reporting back to the mother ship, because there seems to be so much going on behind those mischievous blue eyes. But, he is still a boy and this is some of what I heard in the car ride to the orchard.

"I've never gone apple picking," I offered. "What if I find a worm in my apple."

"Pick it out and squish it," Avery offered.

"I can't. I"m scared of worms," I said.

"I'll take it out and stick it in my nose," he said.

Such a gallant offer. We drove a little further up I-89 and I told the kids to look out for the camel that you can sometimes see from the Interstate. I know, a camel in Vermont is an unique thing to see, but it didn't seem to phase my little alien.

"I want to buy a camel and if it is going to die I'll save its poop and keep it," Avery declared.

I wouldn't have thought of that keepsake myself.

At the orchard, my sister-in-law had to stop picking apples and leave Raine and Tori with me so she could take Avery to the port-a-potty. On the way home, he decided to share about the experience with the rest of us. "It was disgusting in there," he said. "There was a giant turd and all these flies and a dead fly on the turd. It was gross," he said with a big toothless smile. "The turd was gigantic and the fly was dead..."

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it is hard with any picture of a boy to capture the thousand special thoughts that bounce around in their heads. It is a mysterious world that this girl may never quite understand, but I marvel at it.

How to Photograph Victoria Faith

"Let's go take pictures," I say to my four-and-a-half-year old niece, handing her the ballerina-blush tutu I bought her.

She grabs it, shrugging off her school dress and pulling the new one over her bare shoulders and head. Let's go, she says, heading toward the door. "I don't want to wear shoes."

"You don't have to," I tell her.

She is out the door, barefoot. And, I am already snapping away, watching as she skips across the lawn. She leads me across the street to summer's waning flower beds and then back across the road whirling through the grass, falling to the ground.

She is oblivious to the camera as she begins to spin her tale. "I know," she says. "Pretend I am a little girl and I am lost and you are busy working and you forgot to feed me." She pouts, doing her best to look forlorn.

I snap away.

She jumps up and runs out back to the trees. "I am a fairy," she says, as she peeks through the leaves. "I am all alone in the woods. Would you live with me?"

I press the shutter button.

Before I can say anything, she picks up the fluffy pink doll bed I gave her and a stick and runs down the neglected cement path, striking a hobo's pose. "I'm running away," she says.
"Move over there in the light," I tell her, but now the stick has become a cane and she is limping down the path like an old man. She flops on the grass again and stares back at me over her shoulder.
Click. I capture that one.

She's up and running toward the back fence where the pugs are playing in the water that has pooled on the pool cover. She grabs a pine cone off the tree and throws it into their midst. "Let's make Alfie stew," she says.

Go over there by the branches, I direct. She ignores me. "Stand here," she tells me. "That's too far away for my lens," I say. She doesn't hear me.

"Stand here," she orders. "I'll tell you where to stand and when to take a picture."

She sits in the grass and spreads her skirt around her. "Now," she commands. "Okay."

"Again." She actually pauses long enough for three shots and then is up again, moving toward the shed.

"I'm lost and I'm sad," she says. "Pretend you find me sleeping." She curls up on the pink doll bed. I snap the picture.

"Move your hair out of your face," I instruct. She tosses it as she springs up marching toward the house.

"I'm hot now," she announces. "We're done."

And, that is how to photograph Victoria Faith.

Where Does that Path Lead

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I've been asked by Green Mountain Pug Rescue to come photograph a transport of pugs coming into Vermont tonight. They are getting 12 in at this location and another three in at Troy and since it is such a big group they want individual shots and to get photos up as soon as possible in order to find homes for them.
 Green Mountain Pug Rescue is a wonderful organization and very efficient, so I'm sure they will have everything under control, but a friend already wrote me on Facebook that she pictures me with a catcher's mask and mitt and I hope that won't be the case. I'm still a little nervous when it comes to photographing on assignment. I know when its for a show or my own creative projects I can capture a picture that I can use, but I'm still not confident in getting the right shot everytime that I feel I need to do this type of work. Still, I'm eager to grow and this sounds like an opportunity to do so.

I first started taking photography classes with Jim Block in Enfield, NH because I was nervous about perhaps having to take photos while on assignment. That was a few years ago and since then I have been showing and selling my work, making photo collages and having so much fun. A friend once told me that some anxiety can be good for you, it helps motivate you and I have found that to be true. I'm also excited to see the pugs and help in this endeavor. My friend Joan is coming along for moral support. When you start down a road you never know where it might lead and what you see as obstacles sometimes are the very building blocks of creativity.

Adamant Redux

A group of us attended the QuarryWork's theater production of The Importance of Being Earnest in Adamant, VT. This has become a summer tradition for me and my friends. QuarryWorks puts on three free productions each summer -- a musical, a children's production and a classic. The Importance of Being Earnest is this year's classic. Tickets are free but you have to show up ahead of the show to pick them up. This is community theater and the quaint, but scenic locations overlooking a quarry makes it seem even more communal. Attendees can pack picnic dinners to eat before the production begins. One year my friend Joan helped play the piano for one of the prodcutions so she knows a lot of the cast and crew. Flowers line the dirt path and the banks along the quarry. Tonight I captured some of these as I waited for the play to begin.

Waffles stayed at home with Alfie and my mother, who kindly agreed to keep an eye on her. The verdict is still out on the Thundershirt, but I will keep everyone posted. In the meantime, she was quietly sitting in her crate when I returned although I heard from Mom that she turned from Gizmo to a Gremlin when the crate door first locked.

Enjoy the pics of Adamant and if you ever have the opportunity go and check out a show. Tonight's was terrific and no less lovely was the natural beauty of this rural Vermont setting.

The Conversation

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Talk to me friend
Rooted in time
Sharing my field

Tell me your story
Let's have a conversation
About times past
Days ahead
A world moving on
A world standing still

Talk to me friend
Tell me your story
Of roots and trees
Leaves and branches
And Sun

Talk to me friend
Tell me your story
Of farmers and milk
Barns and cows
And Silage

Talk to me friend
Rooted in memory
Sharing my fate

Tell me your story
Let's have a conversation
To keep from feeling lonely
To remember who we are
In the Days ahead
In a world moving on
In a world standing still

Tell me your story
And you will know mine.