 |
| Winter light, January 2013 |
 |
| Catch the sunset, February 2013 |
 |
| Let's try that again, February 2013 |
 |
| Waiting for the results, February 2013 |
Showing posts with label Photography - People. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Photography - People. Show all posts
Monday, February 18, 2013
Some light bowling
Endless winter
 |
| Release the light within, February 2013 |
 |
| Never buy a house in the winter, February 2013 |
 |
| I dare you to lick it, February 2013 |
 |
| Pull me some spring, February 2013 |
Monday, July 09, 2012
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
Spring for a boy
 |
| Lego, April 2012 |
 |
| Tournament, April 2012 |
 | |
| New bike, April 2012 |
 | |
| Mother son moment, April 2012 |
 |
| Just because, May 2012 |
 |
| Steady now, May 2012 |
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Action and repose
"Action and repose, ... to properly balance these two is to understand life."
- Jim Carroll, The Petting Zoo
---
Photos from the past couple weeks.
One point, sharp, October 2011
She comes when the nights are longest, November 2011
This is what compassion looks like, from @DalaiLama (Twitter)
Food for the meek, November 2011
November, still rolling, 2011
Grandpa's hands, October 2011
-----
- Jim Carroll, The Petting Zoo
---
Photos from the past couple weeks.
One point, sharp, October 2011
She comes when the nights are longest, November 2011
This is what compassion looks like, from @DalaiLama (Twitter)
Food for the meek, November 2011
November, still rolling, 2011
Grandpa's hands, October 2011
-----
Friday, August 19, 2011
A little bit country
Slow unwind, August 2011
That's about right, August 2011
Small planet, August 2011
Grand entrance, August 2011
Red clay road, August 2011
-----
Tuesday, August 02, 2011
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Consider the watchers
It's sometimes helpful to take a step outside yourself
and consider those around you.
A watcher may have the key to understanding, April 2011
A watcher may know what's coming, April 2011
-----
and consider those around you.
A watcher may have the key to understanding, April 2011
A watcher may know what's coming, April 2011
-----
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I'm not complaining, really
It's 10:00 a.m. No rush to get up, February 2011
What are you smiling at?, February 2011
We're down to 1990 Ninja Turtle movies; provisions are running low, February 2011
Old-man winter get's the stink eye, February 2011
-----
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Putting pants on a caveman
Cave-boy contemplates his evolution, August 2010
Most of us are hard-wired not to change. To desire personal growth is to admit weakness."I could do with a bit of improving, maybe I'll read a self-help book." To admit a weakness goes against natural selection:
- He's not showing much confidence; must be something wrong with him. I think I'll pick that other guy, his teeth are whiter and his mating dance is way more Travolta.
- Or that girl seems weak. Those boots are so 2008. Let's ditch her, she's just going to slow us down and bum us out (do people still say, "bummed out?").
Wouldn't it be nice to check out for a few months? Wander the wilderness alone until the answers come? I supposed that's why I meditate. 40 days and 40 nights 15 minutes at a time.
Meanwhile life goes on! I've got snow to shovel, supper to cook, and boys to pay attention to. I think my lovely wife is around here somewhere too.
-----
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Dancing into the future
I want to learn how to dance. My wife and I went to the Eldorado Hospital Christmas party a few weeks ago. We spent most of the night sitting on our bums eating and eating (prairie food is too delicious) and eating. We did a little bit of dancing, but just to the disco-pop songs. Rah-Rah-Rasputin. My wife looks beautiful whatever she's doing, but I felt like a tool dancing the same way I did when I was 12 and had worked up enough nerve to ask Connie Killkenny to dance. It's a side to side Frankenstein shuffle that is sort of in time with the music and once in a while I jazz it up with some bend at the elbows finger-snapping. Frankly, I'm not sure why she agrees to dance with me. Love is still blind I guess.
So, we danced 3 songs, watched the rest, and continued eating. I mooned over the couples who knew the moves so well that they could waltz or two-step to any song, even Take a Chance on Me. I'm in love with the romantic notion of being together with someone you love in the middle of a teaming dance floor. Public intimacy rules.
It's time to do something about this lack of knowledge/skill. If I can learn Chinese on my iPod, surely we can teach ourselves how to dance. Challenge accepted. Next year we dance!
Where they still know how (Lake Manitou), August 2010
Backstage at Danceland, August 2010
Our guide into the past, August 2010
-----
So, we danced 3 songs, watched the rest, and continued eating. I mooned over the couples who knew the moves so well that they could waltz or two-step to any song, even Take a Chance on Me. I'm in love with the romantic notion of being together with someone you love in the middle of a teaming dance floor. Public intimacy rules.
It's time to do something about this lack of knowledge/skill. If I can learn Chinese on my iPod, surely we can teach ourselves how to dance. Challenge accepted. Next year we dance!
Where they still know how (Lake Manitou), August 2010
Backstage at Danceland, August 2010
Our guide into the past, August 2010
-----
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The work that must be done
Under a waning full moon tonight, the sloughs and lakes of my prairie home were silver plates and their wet glaze rippled under the gentle breath of summer's last sigh. In the old days, my high school years, I would turn off my headlights on a night like this and cruise the silent highway by moonlight alone. There was a tame thrill in this act, but also a paradoxical feeling of safety and peace. My car thrummed with ease in its highest gear and the steering wheel felt certain under my loose grip. The road glistened ahead of me and everything felt right.
Thinking of my dosing family riding in the truck with me, I didn't turn off my headlights tonight. And I'm glad, because there were many animal sightings on this charitably warm, moonlit night. A fox flashed across my path like a leaf in a hurricane. 3 or 4 coyotes cut short by a foolish leaps across the pavement rested in various states of smear. Another, tail between her legs, sidled in the ditch and crossed after we flew past. I'm glad she will live to see another night.
And the combines. Dozens of them were out tonight trying to finish the harvest before the next rain. They were silent in my passing, too far away to roar and hiss, and their headlights were wrapped in a thick industry of dust. They were perfect metaphors: work that must be completed before any peace will come.
Yesterday, a stranger from Oregon taught me how to let go of an ancient resentment; a weighty anger that I had been carrying round since I was 5 years old. I clung to that anger because I believed that if I were to forget it then there could be no justice for those who did me harm. An impossible vigil. But yesterday I was able to forgive. I forgave my tormentors and I forgave myself. Those who did me harm in 1970 are so far removed from my life that they are not even ghosts. I'm much closer. I forgave the little boy who let this happen to himself and I forgave the other me who believed that I deserved to be hurt because I wasn't good enough to be treated better.
I felt lighter without this particular resentment pulling me down like an evil gravity. My head was taller on my neck, I didn't have to force my back into a vertical posture, and my heart opened as if it were a dark lake reflecting the silver truth of the harvest moon.
-----
Thinking of my dosing family riding in the truck with me, I didn't turn off my headlights tonight. And I'm glad, because there were many animal sightings on this charitably warm, moonlit night. A fox flashed across my path like a leaf in a hurricane. 3 or 4 coyotes cut short by a foolish leaps across the pavement rested in various states of smear. Another, tail between her legs, sidled in the ditch and crossed after we flew past. I'm glad she will live to see another night.
And the combines. Dozens of them were out tonight trying to finish the harvest before the next rain. They were silent in my passing, too far away to roar and hiss, and their headlights were wrapped in a thick industry of dust. They were perfect metaphors: work that must be completed before any peace will come.
Yesterday, a stranger from Oregon taught me how to let go of an ancient resentment; a weighty anger that I had been carrying round since I was 5 years old. I clung to that anger because I believed that if I were to forget it then there could be no justice for those who did me harm. An impossible vigil. But yesterday I was able to forgive. I forgave my tormentors and I forgave myself. Those who did me harm in 1970 are so far removed from my life that they are not even ghosts. I'm much closer. I forgave the little boy who let this happen to himself and I forgave the other me who believed that I deserved to be hurt because I wasn't good enough to be treated better.
I felt lighter without this particular resentment pulling me down like an evil gravity. My head was taller on my neck, I didn't have to force my back into a vertical posture, and my heart opened as if it were a dark lake reflecting the silver truth of the harvest moon.
 |
| Autumn delayed, September 2010 |
 |
| Dirt needs boys, September 2010 |
 |
| Fierce love, September 2010 |
 |
| Water fountain, September 2010 |
 |
| Two rates of growth, September 2010 |
 | ||
| Mischievous love, September 2010 |
-----
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)