Thursday, October 28, 2010


me·an·der·ing - To follow a winding and turning course.

There is something about a quiet house at 1:30a and nothing but sounds of Ray Lamontagne and the wind. Strong wind. Coffee is sometimes my best and very worst friend. Tonight coffee is flat out my enemy. I want to go to sleep. But alas, I am up. So I meander... cathartically.

Soon I intend to purchase another fantastic lens... and though I know I need it and will debate the cost again for a few hours. 2K seems like a lot for glass, but it's magic glass.  Sometimes I feel like my arsenal of a camera {fairy-godmother}, lens {workhorse carriage} and wacom pen/tablet {magic wand} make me Cinderella... I'm out past midnight, forgetful of the time, missing shoes and stuff & my only company at this point might be the mice that I assure you I am unaware of - Clearly, I don't even need a wicked step-mother, as I am my own hot mess.

And speaking of Cinderella.. balls and dances and such... seeing as I can't find decent a segway at such an ungodly hour... {let's switch to music} sometimes when I am photographing at receptions I hear a song that stops me in my tracks for a minute and just makes me smile. Most times it's not even that I can hear the words, just the melody. That happened last weekend. I watched an entire family gather arm and arm and sway to a song that touched them. I sort of envied them and wanted to join them. Profound how music can bring people together or remind them that they are torn apart.

Such as the case with Ray LaMontagne's song, "A Falling Through" - the first time I heard it was shortly after Jess died, the guitar in it reminded of her. She played guitar. All on her own. No lessons. She would have played this song for me and sang it to me, it was her kind of song. Her guitar sits behind my bed. I promise you - whoever is reading this - I am going to learn to play it. For her. For me. I just need to find the time. Ahhhh, this winter maybe. I think I can write lyrics - maybe I am photographer/folk singer undiscovered. :)

Music deserves it's own book of tribute as to what it means to me personally. To me a life without music would not be worth living. Sometimes it's the antidote, sometimes the poison. Sometimes I hear a song and even though it hurts to hear it b/c it reminds me of loss, it's healing all the same. Part of being an artist is the curse that music is painfully and painstakingly appreciated. I literally listen to music ALL day as I work, as I drive, as I load the dishwasher. I even dream with music.

Tomorrow, Today, I will buy the lens I've wanted for a very, very long time. Tomorrow, I will learn to play the guitar. Now, I will go to bed.