Photography

Find Someplace Beautiful

/ still a dreamer / 9 Comments

My guess is that there is someplace beautiful within walking distance or a short drive from where you live.

This is one of the views walking along the bike/footpath in Frenchtown. So gorgeous. A friend and I had stopped in to The Bridge Cafe for coffee and some pastry, and decided to walk.

We can all get stuck in our homes and/or digital lives and forget that it’s not all that far to find some beauty. It doesn’t have to be nature; it can just as easily be in the city, in a park, or a walk in the neighborhood.

Get outside and look around. Find someplace beautiful. Take pictures. Enjoy your life.

Gardening Glow

/ still a dreamer / 13 Comments

Finally! A bright, sunny day! We’ve had so much rain lately, and there hasn’t been much inspiration or sunshine to even go walking, let alone take pictures.

I grabbed the opportunity one dry morning and walked, admiring all my neighbors’ landscaping and planting efforts. These are my favorite photos among those I took.

There are a fair amount of gardeners here who know what they’re doing with perennials and shrubs. They plant creatively and with great timing so there is always something blooming throughout the summer. I consider this a true art.

What I also appreciate is the appearance of entire gardens growing wild, even though how these areas are planted, in most cases, was carefully planned.

I did a fair amount of gardening at the first house I moved into on this side of the state, almost entirely with annuals. Admittedly, it looked very pretty, and complemented many perennials already in place, but my humble efforts still left me in “aspiring gardener” status (in my opinion.)

Cheers to all the gardeners in my neighborhood and beyond for their contribution to making this world a lovelier place.

Getting Out of Our Own Way

/ still a dreamer / 4 Comments

I saw this quote from Anne Lamott, and found myself pondering it a bit. it’s so true, and it would seem so easy to just step aside. If it were that easy, I suspect there’s be a whole lot more creative thinking going on in this world.

Speaking for myself, I let my creativity flow how I can, when I can, knowing full well that there are things inside me that want to be said, but not necessarily in words. I am always working on getting out of my own way, because I want to see what’s inside, too.

I love looking at all the fabulous art on Instagram because it inspires me. Then I wonder – because what I see is so amazing (and sometimes AI) – is it possible it also serves to intimidate me?

And I’m reading. I’m halfway through A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle, and I will return to it, but I needed something else. I’m starting Thinking Out Loud by Anna Quindlen. I picked this up at the big library book sale, and although it was written in 1993, Quindlen has a gift for always being timely and relevant. Plus I’ve read a few of her books in the past, currently own one. She’s a good bet.

It’s Memorial Day weekend. In part, I feel like I should be doing something other than what I’m doing, but I’m enjoying some peace, seeing my home shine a little more, writing, reading. Isn’t this the kind of freedom those before us gave their lives to give us? Hope your weekend is going great, too.

Meandering in A Confused World

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

One of my small daily pleasures each morning once I’ve fed Charlie and made my coffee is to sit by the living room window and do two things – a perusal of Instagram, a gathering if you will, of positive words, thoughts and images (occasionally my own work), and then sharing them in my Stories. Then I journal to clear out the cobwebs, sort out my challenges, put to paper my joys and angst … whatever the day calls for.

While on IG, I always hope that whoever stops by gains some benefit from what I post. We know, vaguely, how the algorithms work; you get more of what you like (almost a corollary of karma, right?), and therefore, I find vast amounts of insight, positivity, and beauty. Some mornings, when I open the app, I am greeted with exactly what I need to know for that day. Because I do believe the Universe works that way.

Sometimes I share things like this, courtesy of @spiritualgoal –

Sometimes I post things I’ve been doing, like the gecko drawing above, or how I’ve redesigned my picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night? 2nd Edition. (You can read that in detail here.)

But mostly, I’m sharing insights, inspiration, and the beauty of life.

Inevitably, while I scroll, I come across other things, often in Threads, about our current political circumstances. And sometimes, I drop in and read, because most of what’s really happening is on social nowadays, not the mainstream media. I find life – mental and emotional life – is a balancing act of trying to remain informed and at the same time, keeping my sanity.

It’s why the positivity is so important. Knowing, remembering, how important we are in the larger scheme of things. Even just being centered and loving in this world is a huge contribution. Holding the place of love.

And sometimes I create my own memes. This one’s for you. Just keep holding that light up high.

Away …

/ still a dreamer / 8 Comments

Searching through photos for one thing inevitably surprises us with something else. Especially when you have the amount of photos that I do.

This is a photo I took when visiting my cousin in Portugal when I was 23 years old. He and his family lived here, in a small fishing village, Vila Nova de Cerveira, at the mouth of the Minho River, just minutes from Spain. It was an indescribable experience, and looking back now, even more so, especially as the area has evolved so since.

Truly, it was a village. There was a tinker (today’s handyman/carpenter), a small bakery/grocery store, a church, a police station, and a few other shops. There was also a castle, and a variety of homes. The streets were cobblestone, and it seemed that everyone knew everyone. Many people grew or raised their own food.

In the morning, we heard the clanging of the bell at the long driveway gate. A neighbor had brought a clean bucket of milk, fresh from her cow. Wherever my cousin and I walked, there were young children skipping after us, fascinated by the visitor with her light-colored eyes.

Coming across this photo brought back so many memories, which could probably fill a short memoir of its own. My cousin, his wife, children, and dogs were my warm and wonderful hosts. With all I experienced in that too-short week, I existed in a slice of time never to be known again.

I also remember the train ride home, first to Porto, then a switch to a second train to Lisbon. In my compartment were five Portuguese men and women, none of whom spoke English. During the 5-hour ride, they brought out their lunch, and so generously offered everything to me – bread, cheese, some kind of meat, wine. With hand signs and broken language, we talked and laughed all the way to Lisbon.

I remember wondering even then if Americans would be so utterly kind to strangers who spoke no English in a traveling compartment. The importance of that entire experience has deepened ever since. Would we all be as kind and generous as they? Can we still share? Can we still love?