Newspaper Days

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?

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.

Fleurs Encore

If you've never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom,
maybe your soul has never been in bloom.  
-Audra Foveo

I never had any other desire so strong, and so like to covetousness, 
as that one which I have had always,
that I might be master at last of a small house and a large Garden. 
~Abraham Cowley (The Garden, 1666)

People from a planet without flowers
would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.
    - Iris Murdoch (A Fairly Honourable Defeat)


  What we call the beginning is often the end. 
And to make an end is to make a beginning. 
The end is where we start from.
-T.S. Eliot
 All human beings have three lives: public, private, and secret.
-Gabriel Garcia Marquez
 I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud
because they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish.
-Anne Lamott

After your death, you will be what you were before your birth.
-Arthur Schopenhauer

Thank you, Jen Matlack, for the gift of these lovely flowers.