Juicy (25/366)

Pomegranate half, Magdalena, NM, Jan. 2012

We finally have Internet at home again! Eleven days after the outage started, our ISP got around to sending out a technician who fixed the problem in a little over an hour. So now I can get my 366 project back on track, not to mention my coursework and client documentation, and go back to my free-wheelin' surfing' 'round the InterWebz. Today's surfing took me to a Flickr 365 project that I really am enjoying, where I found some wonderful food photos by Andrew Potter. His photo stream inspired me to seek out something yummy to photograph, which led me to this pomegranate rolling around in the back of the fruit drawer. It looked beaten up on the outside, but the kernels (or whatever they're called -- pips?) were still juicy and sweet, and the kids and I devoured both halves of this beauty right after I finished shooting.

A candle in the window (5/366)

Still life with candle, bell, and mosaic, Magdalena, NM, Jan. 2012

Put a candle in the window
Cause I feel I've gotta move
Though I'm going, going
I'll be comin' home soon
Long as I can see the light
-John Fogerty, "Long As I Can See the Light"

This was a very, very long day. The agency was jammed with suicide assessments today so I had absolutely no time to sit, think, or even eat -- I had to eat an apple walking between sessions and ate my lunch at 6pm, just after my third client session and before my third assessment session of the day. I know I can't fix everything these kids and their families are going through in 90 minutes, but I do want to do more than simply "assess risk" so I've begun to try to make these sessions a place for people to pause, breathe, think... and gather enough support and energy and hope to keep going.

How timely, then, this Daily Om missive in my email tonight: "We cannot bring to the world what we do not have to offer. Peace starts in our own minds and hearts, not outside of ourselves, and until its roots are firmly entrenched in our own selves, we cannot manifest it externally. Once we have found it within, we can share it... we help the world most by practicing the art of choosing peace within."

Intimate Landscapes: Glass Chile, Revisited

Hand-blown Glass Chile, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

Oh, my. The new camera does indeed have a better sensor, providing a much clearer, less noisy image. I had to do a lot less processing to bring out the clarity in this image than I did on those in my previous glass chile post, and good God look at those colors.

I think winter will be a bit more bearable now. Huge thanks to my dad for giving me this camera for Christmas, and for believing in my photography.

Still Life in Glass and Geode

Hand-blown glass chile on geode fragment, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

One benefit of staying in on a wintry day is looking closely at everyday objects and figuring out ways to see them differently. I used my somewhat neglected 35mm f1.8 lens for these shots; it's a very fast lens, which I don't really need outdoors, and the shallow depth of field that happens at such a low f-stop doesn't work well with moving critters or wind-tossed flowers. Yesterday, stuck indoors in low light, I had a chance to rediscover its versatility and unique perspective. I gave this glass chile, made by an Albuquerque artist, to my mom two years ago, and the geode fragment came from a hike I took way up into the Magdalenas last summer. Nothing compares to natural light, and the weather was so volatile today that these shots, taken maybe five minutes apart, show an entirely different sky in the background as clouds tumbled from the mountains into town.

Harvest Time

Final Harvest, Magdalena, NM, Oct. 2011

October is incredibly beautiful here in New Mexico, with the deepest blue skies, golden sunshine, changing leaves... and of course it's a bittersweet time for any gardener because it brings frosts that slow and finally still the garden. Here's one of my last harvests of this wonderful, colorful season: plum and heirloom striped tomatoes, tomatillos, purple bell and yellow banana peppers, and fiery cayennes. Salsa, baby. Not that I've had much energy given my schedule and commute, but this weekend I hope to make and can some serious salsa and tomato sauce, and also bake with some of the wonderful pumpkins I pulled out of the garden earlier this week. What I'll miss most about this year's garden, which is now all but gone: wandering the rows and stuffing myself with cherry and pear tomatoes as I gathered produce for the next few days' meals. Methinks a greenhouse is in my future....

California Dreaming

Tangerines at Sunset, Jan. 2011

A friend came back from visiting family in California and brought me a big box of fruit, including over a dozen delectable tangerines from her grandma's backyard tree. Each bite really does taste like sunshine, especially on a cold winter day. January is never a fun month in colder climes, and each year I understand a bit more why people move to places like Florida and southern Arizona when they retire. If I could live anywhere I wanted, where would I live? I'm not sure yet, but wouldn't it be fun to go on walkabout and try a few places on for size? Some place with warm winters seems like a good bet, and I would love to have fruit trees in my backyard, especially avocado and fig and tangerine -- oh, and a pomegranate shrub, too. I lived in southern California for 7 years, and things were just starting to get good when the now-ex decided it was time to go. I do love New Mexico and am happy to be here... except in January. Thank goodness for good friends bearing the bounty of a sun-favored land.

Still. Life.

Mom's heart in my window, Nov. 2010

Yesterday, I felt the urge to photograph something but have felt my photo mojo waver recently, so I stayed close to home and spent some time studying the still life. The photo above is of a glass and copper ornament I gave my mom several years ago; when she passed away this summer, I brought back some treasures from her and my dad's house in Philly, and this one is now in my "office/studio" (really the dining room).

Why the low mojo? I've had some discouraging photography outings recently and am trying to regroup rather than just throw in the towel. Of course, it's something I love to do -- feel compelled to do, really -- but I don't take discouragement very well. The first disappointment, a photo trip last week to the Bosque del Apache, was really about me not understanding the limits of my 75-200mm zoom lens at sunset with flying subjects -- it is hardly a fast lens at f4.5/5.6, but it was all I could afford, and I haven't figured out yet how far I can push it. I would have used a tripod but, um, it was stolen out of my car (along with my Metallica S&M CD set) during the interminable 5-week repair after my accident in October. So, lessons learned. The second disappointment, a photo shoot of a local cheerleading competition, revealed the same limitations of my smaller zoom lens and also helped me realize that, very poor lighting aside, I am just not interested in "event" photography, particularly indoors.

One of my favorite things about photography is that it gives me an easy excuse to get outside and ramble. See, I'm not wandering aimlessly and using up time and fuel; I'm going on a photo trip.... And sometimes, like yesterday, I look up and see something especially beautiful, and I just want to capture the moment. With winter close on our heels I'm hiking less, but I can always do a still life while I'm waiting for the day to warm up....

Indian pony, Nov. 2010