Stumbled upon old photos from my time being a nanny in Australia. I miss these boys and family so much. I remember spending weekends with them. Their mom would make us breakfast in the morning, and we’d talk about God and life. We’d set clothes out to dry on the clothesline in the springtime while the smell of Jasmine sifted through the Aussie air. The floorboards would creek with charm and so much love from all the love it experienced within its four walls. The sun would stream in through the kitchen windows basking the house in a warm afternoon glow. We would make Earl Grey tea with milk and it was serenity, love in its purest form, and goodness of people that are now oceans and memories away. I will never forget them, and will carry them in my heart ever so fondly. Miss you Boyd family. Sending you love. Wherever you may be now.
These past few days housesitting has been a silent and quiet repose. I attempted to minimize Netflix, T.V., and internet and enjoy the tranquility and the sounds around me-from the silent breathing of three dogs, Buddy munching on grass, the laundry going and the sound of washing dishes-all these sounds a circadian rhythm of life. Solitude and quietude go a long way, and it’s not bad when you have the love of three fur balls.
Happy Holidays friends,
and may 2017 be better and brighter and may all our dreams come true.
This semester I am fortunate enough to be taking a black and white film photography class. In this time I’ve learned to become one with my images. I have learned to win and lose. And what I mean by this, is that I have learned to accept my accomplishments when a roll of film comes out impeccably, or those times when I lose my favorite images to a bad combination of science, chemistry and time.
With black and white photography I have become more intentional with each frame taken. Each exposure more precious then the previous, and only seeing my images after 15 minutes of sweating in a small closet in the dark, searching for my reel, and carefully and steadily reeling all my film until its perfectly fitted onto that circular plastic wheel-hopefully free of fingerprints. After an hour of prepping chemicals and agitating the tank carefully, eyeing the clock meticulously, each second vital to the process…tick, tick, tick.
I see my images…
Only after I take my film out of the photo flow and pray there’s images in that fragile un-spooled film. When there is, a sort of joy escapes you, and there they are appearing before your very eyes all those images you carefully took, like some sort of magic or sorcery.
This is the reward-when I can’t simply see an image through a screen on the back of the camera.
Therefore, when I am behind that film camera all things need to connect: vision, light, hand and heart.
“A common legend goes that dumplings were first invented in the era of the Three Kingdoms, around 225 AD. Zhuge Liang, a general and minister of Shu Han, dammed up a poison marsh on his southern campaign against the Nanman with dumplings instead of the heads that the Nanman used.” (Wikipedia)
We ventured to the Talin Market for their weekly Pop-Up dumpling House. The Pop-up house makes Chinese styled dumplings from scratch. A Chinese woman actually stuffs and folds the dumplings delicately using her fingertips. I watched her intently from the bar, as she picked up a piece of dough stuffed it looked at the recipe and folded it, repeating the process over and over occasionaly stopping to speak Chinese with the elder Chinese gentleman stirring the steaming pots. The silver pots full of delectible dumplings steamed before me, the dumplings swimming in boiling water rising and falling.
We sipped out Thai iced coffees enjoying the sharp fresh tanginess aftertaste, as we slurped our sweet and spicy and egg drop soups. Such bliss on a cloudy Saturday afternoon with my best friend. Enjoying the taste of a culture and the togetherness that only a good meal can bring.