Time to Take Dreams Off Back Burner

January 1, 2013

I bought this ceramic tile when I lived in California, during the 1980s. It definitely spoke to me and I keep it as a kind of a touchstone, to remind myself to stay (or get) focused on what is important to me. Now, at the beginning of the year, when so many of us choose to assess the preceding 365 days, or predict the succeeding ones via our resolutions, I look to my touchstone and think about dreams. My hope for us all, in 2013, is that we will honor our dreams.

Penny Rug by Morna Crites-Moore

A perspective on death

October 19, 2012

Click on the picture if you wish to enlarge it.

Newspaper Days

September 12, 2012

Long ago and far away, in a strange land called Poughkeepsie, I worked as a newspaper photographer. This photo was taken at a day care center. I don't remember why this boy had been crying, nor do I know his name. I loved photographing people; I loved being a photographer. When we moved to California, in 1980, I no longer had a darkroom and I let photography slide into the past. Now that we have digital cameras, I find myself getting more and more interested in returning to my photographer roots. I used to love darkroom work, but now I love Photoshop instead.

I have been doing major cleaning ... clearing away the cobwebs. I hope I find more of my old photos from when I worked at the Poughkeepsie Journal. If I do, I'll share them here.

We had the exterior of our house painted this summer and I love how it turned out. However, it now seems that everything else is a wreck by comparison. I should heed Don Quixote's observation that all comparisons are odious. Otherwise I will go insane due to the following realization:

If I want the perfection that dances in my imagination,

I'll need to work on my home and garden,

pretty much constantly,

for the rest of my life.

Here I am photographing my sister, brother, mother ... and a doll, circa 1955. The photography bug got me at an early age.

What to do with my old basket quilt?

July 13, 2012

I have always loved quilts and I have some very special ones handed down through the family, but this is the first one I ever purchased with my own hard earned money. It was the late 1960s and I was a teenager out on a drive in the country, with my mother for company, in my little Triumph Herald convertible. I have no memory of where we were going that day but on the way we spotted a wonderful old barn with an "Antiques" sign above its door. We stopped, went in and browsed the many wonderful things that were there for sale. I spotted a marvelous Log Cabin quilt, in excellent colors, and then I spotted this striking basket quilt. I debated long and hard about which one to buy and the baskets won. The colors are so striking and it was a perfect graphic piece of graphic wall art for my room.

For the last decade or so, it has hung on a wall in my daughter's room. But that room is way overdue for a paint job and a new look. So, now I'm debating what to do with this quilt. It has completed its journey with me, of that I am sure. Should I sell it? It is such bad shape, I probably can only sell it as a cutter quilt, at a fairly low price. If someone else is going to cut it up, should I just cut it up myself and see what happens? That may seem like a logical approach but, considering its history with me, I'm not sure I actually want to cut it up. It might be better to let it go to its next owner, someone who will have a vision of what to do with it.

Decisions, decisions, decisions ..... not my strong suit.