Still

Same flowers but much later--today's afternoon light shows that they are still beautiful. And that is a good thing...

Friday Morning

A friend once sent me a photo of a great sky, and his comment about the photo was simply that a sky like that was proof that it was good to be alive to see such thing. This view confirms it, though perhaps less convincingly. Phrom my Phone at 7:27 AM, a shot of my house and my dining room, kitchen, and laundry room windows, on perhaps one of the best days ever. I am a lucky guy.

This is the road I took today

New moon, new school year, new things. And this is the road I chose today, without regret or wonder at what the other roads were...

A Time To Talk

by Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am “What is it?”
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

Sunset

I owed someone a photo from today, and while I looked and looked and drove and drove, I found little to meet this promise. While it is a beautiful night, my mind was elsewhere and at best, all I can say is that I was looking in the wrong places. That must of been it--I was just in the wrong places.

What I did finally find was a sunset of sorts. Backlit sunflowers in late evening probably won't make anyone's top 40 playlist, but it is a different way to look at the end of the day and the end of the summer. School starts tomorrow, so that end date is official. This picture just puts a good face on that end.

Just for the record...

I wanted to share that the flowers are still growing and doing very well. For the record, this is the flower that has grown or emerged from the bud that I photographed a few days ago. Certainly it has a ways to go/grow, but it will be OK. And that is good. Very good.

Flowers and Bylerly's

I was at Byerly's this evening, finally getting my lunch/supper, and I saw these flowers. I know, you are bored of flowers and who cares and all that? I sometimes feel that way, but then again, you can always have a conversation with flowers, and other than dying now and again, they are pretty decent companions But I am bored, too. These just intrigued me because they looked like they would last awhile, but more about that in a bit.

You know, I wrote a ton more, but who cares and what does it matter? The important part of the whole blog is just this. I took lots of photos, and the hardest, most challenging photos were of the less-formed buds, the pictures of the things that were not as clear, but pictured only as a potential of what they might be. Or not be. Maybe they will last a while or a long time and they will beautiful and be loved by all. Maybe they will be dead within a week. Will they die if I am impatient? Maybe it will take longer for them to flourish. How long can I wait before I just toss them? What I know for sure these buds will be different in a week than they are right now. I am just as sure is the fact that there probably isn't a single thing that I can do to make anything different. To mix platitudes and butcher them, "it is what it is," and "whatever will be, will be."

It is a challenging moment, as I want to water them and nurture them and help and ask "what do you need?" and "what can I do to make it easier?" and "what are you thinking?" I am guessing the flowers don't care all that much what I want to do or feel the need to do.

Oh well. Maybe the flowers are enough, even if they do die in a week.

PS, and very personal PS. I wen to the doctor today for a totally different reason, but came back with some challenging news. I found out that I have a 99.9% chance that I have skin cancer on my face. I have a spot that is about the size of a pea that needs to be gone, and if the comparative pictures are to be believed, it is most likely not the good kind of spot. No matter what, it will take a melon baller to get rid of this, and she identified at least four other areas of concern. She didn't cut this out because she realized that while my face isn't much, , an inch long scar or a divot isn't an attribute or improvement, even for me. I have that to look forward to in the next few weeks or as soon as I can get into a dermatologist. See your doctor, use SPF 50 when you are watching soccer or whatever, and be careful out there when it is sunshiny.

On the way to my car

This morning, I saw this on the way to my car. I don't know if I like it, but it is kind of different and cool. Impressionistic, a Turner painting of the Thames? Wait, I would need a ship or two for that.

Bread and other things

I generally like and enjoy my neighborhood, but last night it challenged me. With the police cars and fire trucks, the obscenity-laced screaming, and the squawking of the radios, sleep was a bit hard to come by after about 3AM.

But the neighborhood has its charms, too. At 3AM, the neighborhood is smothered in smells from the two nearby bakeries. Good smells, smells that make it seem like a home should smell, even when it doesn't sound like home.

The smells were inspiring. I thought if they can make a few thousand loaves of bread, I should be able to make at least one. So I did. Yes, it was from a box, but I did make bread. By 7AM, I had bread in the oven, and my apartment was filling with its own smells from baking bread. Wow, it smelled wonderful. I am guessing that this is the one of the absolute best, most comforting smells ever. By 7:40, I was pulling it out of the oven, and by 7:45, well, I was throwing it away. It looked more like flatbread, and while it was crusty, it was about 2 inches high and inedible. Completely and totally inedible. I of course blame the yeast--isn't it always the yeast's fault?

But it smelled good, and I did get a good story. It was something to do during a sleepless early morning, and I got to pretend that I can actually cook. Or bake, I guess. It reminded me of another great thing about my neighborhood, that I do live across a bakery that actually can bake.

I wondered around town with a camera for a bit today and tried to find a picture or two. Not sure if I found much, but here are the results. It was a bit of a dark morning, but I like the path. I have always liked fences and doors, and found these. I struggle when I make black and white photos--I need a class, I think. While I love the yellow flowers, my camera has challenges with that much yellow. I have to work on that, too.

ESVM Part II

I had a great conversation with a great friend about my post and my choice of poems. Her analysis of the poems was of regret and things passing, of things that Edna once had but now or very soon would be gone. Her visual image was of Edna writing, alone, lit only by that flickering, guttering candle, regretting all her excesses, whether monetary or of spirit and self. Then she kills herself and thud goes her body. Thanks, Miss Sunshine!

She had the same view or tone or I guess perspective of the Second Fig. Yeah, she was sitting alone lit only by that candle in this beautiful castle on the sand, but it really is only temporary as it is going to swept out to sea with the tide or it will be foreclosed and then she kills herself.

Of course, I am never going to argue (ok, I am never going to win) this "poetry analysis duel" with this person. She has an MA in English and it is obvious which degree is superior at least in this situation and probably in most situations. My analysis is more grounded in the historical context and not the literary context. The poems were written in the 1920s, when people had lost and really felt the loss of the optimism of the Populist and Progressive Eras. They were seizing the day and living life to the fullest. It was the flapper/Gatsby era. I don't think that she would disagree with that part, but I stop it there--I see Edna and others enjoying the right now, the lovely light and that shining castle, even it it won't last. No one knows tomorrow, but certainly there is not regret for being able to burn the candle at both ends, this candle that illuminates the shining castle...

Her take was that the writer realized that all these excesses were fading or in the past, and she had great regrets--these poems were laments to things that had passed or were passing, I very much take the present tense view of these poems. Isn't it great that this candle gives a lovely light right now? While this castle might wash away (be foreclosed) soon, isn't it better than those solid stodgy houses which don't shine?

As she correctly pointed out, there probably is no single right answer, but I am sure that she is also believing that there is a "righter" or more right answer. But is fun. And I will win the "more right" contest if it ever devolves to dates and other things historians are good at.

Sunflowers, towards the end

I feel like I owe this site and you all a longer post, and I do have some ideas for posts that I will share. But this will be short as my day is back to back to back meetings. Here are the sunflowers pictured last week looking a bit worse for the wear but still beautiful and worth sharing. There might even be a connection to the poems below...

A poem or two for the day, as I have been reading a bio of Edna St Vincent Millay--these are from her "A Few Figs from Thistles" and these are fun, and so 1920s. Or so today, if you have anything invested in the stock market or are invested in other parts of life... Hey, Carpe Diem and may it be a good one!

First Fig

My candle burns at both ends;

It will not last the night;

But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--

It gives a lovely light

Second Fig

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:

Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

A new garden...

I visited a garden today, and while I was there for another purpose, I had a camera, there were flowers, so I had to at least try for a photo. I think I had the wrong camera/lens for this, but this is a bit of color from my day.

Stormy skies

I came home tonight to stormy skies that while probably were not all that threatening, I have to say they were at least dramatic. Unlike some photographers, I honestly can say I use Photoshop very sparingly. These were very lightly touched--minor exposure tweaks, unsharp mask, a crop, and that is it. I suppose I know that, and I do hope others see that. It does make me realize how honestly, well, how honestly photogenic the sky was tonight.

It was a good day. The Uptown Art Fair was amazing. I am guessing that I am not quite ready for the big leagues of art shows, as if I have to tell you, the poor viewers who have had to look at most of the photos I have taken and shown--almost all of them have been on my blog. But it was very encouraging to see that so many people honestly can make their living off their art. Braver souls, and better at this than I am--that is all.

For dinner I met a friend's mother and even her grandmother. Geez, how many years has it been since I have gone through that angst? I think it it went it ok, though I feel I am pushing up hill on this one. I cooked and did dishes--I am not sure I could have done a whole lot more. It was fine...all in all they were pretty kind to someone who perhaps doesn't deserve it. Ultimately for me the night came down to this--who knew it would ever begin to mean so much to wipe spaghetti sauce from a chin? What do I ever do with that, other than want more of this, more of something that is not mine to ask for or take?

I was thinking a lot today--a long drive with slow traffic allows this, which I think is a plus. I don't think I came to a single conclusion during my drive time, probably because there are just too many unknowns. But oddly enough, the clouds tonight are a visual metaphor and really tell a lot more about me than I usually do in this space. On some level, there is a balance, at least compositionally or in the big picture, between the threatening clouds and the blue sky. Certainly there is a hint of movement--the clouds are either taking over the blue sky or being pushed back--which is it? You can't really tell, can you? Think I can or could influence which way this is all going to turn out? My point exactly. Welcome to my world.

I have told you all this before that a blog is one of the most self-indulgent things in the world. Who cares about my musings? Especially when they are cryptic and tell but a tiny part of the story as to protect the innocent (and me). Sometimes I do write for a VERY small audience. I assume that people skip this drivel and glom onto the visual drivel of the pictures. But sometimes we all have more to say than a picture or two. Bear with me on this...

To and from

As seen on my walk this morning, my walk to and from the bakery. At least I didn't drive...though if you know where I live, you will have to laugh at the idea of me driving to the Dutch Maid. The top picture is of my "house" and it shows not only pretty good light, but how poshly I am living--notice the air conditioner!

After a great, surprising, and wonderful night with good friends, and a pretty good start to the day. I am off to the Uptown Art Fair to see how real artists do this, but then I am heading for Cosetta's for real Italian deli food. Tonight will be just as interesting, but with good food, a great friend, and perhaps a little bit of wine, it will be fun.

A different kind of sun

This is not my last or definitive photo of this batch of sunflowers, but rather it is a quick shot to at least record this great color. And because it is someone's birthday month and I know they like sunflowers.

To the Morning

Sunrise, 5:47 AM

Watching the sun Watching it come Watching it come up over the rooftops. Cloudy and warm Maybe a storm You can never quite tell From the morning. Chorus And it's going to be a day There is really no way to say no To the morning. Yes it's going to be a day There is really nothing left to Say but Come on morning

With thanks to Dan Fogelberg...I woke up with this song in my head.  Seems fitting...