Shy

(I know just how you feel, Ed.)

Stormy Weather

The horses have grown their winter coats, and not a moment too soon as cold storms begin blowing across the plains. We got a bit of rain here last night, but the precipitation mostly hung around in the mountains and left a good amount of snow to brighten up the view. I took the dogs for a long run today and visited the horses today to make sure they have flowing water (they do) and just to stand with them in stillness. Blaze let me lean on him for a good while, sheltering me from the brisk winds and occasionally nuzzling my pockets for treats. All I had was an apple Larabar, but he seemed quite pleased with the exchange. As was I.

Post-Processing Experiments: Color and Exposure

Devil's Weed (altered photograph), Magdalena, NM, Nov. 2011

I posted the "realistic" version of this Devil's Weed pod a few weeks ago but kept thinking it needed something.... So tonight, having had a LONG day and an unexpected long drive home (but much-needed for both myself and my girl child who was really missing her mama tonight), and feeling very far from calm or sleep, I thought I'd put on some music and play with some images in Photoshop. The image above started out with an accident: while working with a "hue" slider I slipped it way too far to the right, then... hmmm. And then, to the left... whoa, that's kinda cool. Then Monkey Mind woke up in a kerfluffle and I had a moment of, Oh, no, that's TOO FAR out there -- totally not believable -- what am I thinking -- let's just go back to realistic, shall we.... Just then, this line played through my headphones and, given that I have the music cranked up to GOODGODWOMANAREYOUFREAKIN'DEAF, I did manage to really hear it:

and if I close my mind in fear
please pry it open *

And so I kept playing, letting my fingers slip and slide across the color palettes and exposure settings, recklessly prying open my safe ideas of "realistic," and soon I realized I was letting go of the day's stresses and disappointments and my expectations and rules and everything else that walls me in when I allow it to. What is "realistic," and what's so sacred about it that I give up the freedom to play and have fun and just let the process go where it will, even if it goes someplace I'm not expecting to go?

I don't care whether this image is "right" or not. I think it's pretty cool.

* lyric from "The Outlaw Torn," Metallica {why, yes, I do listen to heavy metal sometimes...}

Post-Processing Experiments: Tone and Texture

Bosque Sunset, Bosque del Apache NWR, NM, Nov. 2011

A great conversation with some artists recently inspired me to push myself out of my comfort zone in photo processing. I tend towards realism, which makes photography a perfect medium for me (not to mention I can't paint or draw worth a plugged nickel), but sometimes a photograph captures a moment that might be better expressed less literally, more figuratively... I'm not sure what the best words are to express this, so I've spent the past few days playing visually to see how I respond on a gut level to various effects.

I saw right away that this photo in its raw form was kind of flat; the composition was okay, the detail was pretty good but not good enough to zoom in (have I mentioned that I'm dying for a fast telephoto lens? Next year, perhaps), and the color was good but not striking enough to carry the image. So I applied Photoshop's black-and-white filter, which was okay but not fabulous (I do much prefer color to B/W -- my own visual bias), and then slowly ramped the color back up and added sepia and selenium toning (using Topaz Labs' new B&W Effects, which is a fun and fabulous Photoshop add-in) to "antique" the image. This seemed to bring out the snow geese, which helped me realize that I didn't really have one stand-out focal element in this image -- oh, pretty birds! oh, pretty trees! oh, cool lines! -- and that perhaps this is what I struggle with most in landscapes.

So, food for thought. Please feel free to offer whatever feedback you have on this image; it's definitely a work in progress. I'm really enjoying the process of experimenting and letting go of the idea that I have to create a "perfect" image, and I'm open to suggestions and inspiration.

Mi Familia

My brother visited last month and enjoyed some family time, some adventure time (a motorcycle trip to and into the Grand Canyon with Dad), and lots of autumn sunshine. His departure was delayed one day because of that crazy snowstorm that charged up the East Coast... yo, bro, I think it's a sign. Dad took this picture of us in Box Canyon (aka The Box), about 10 miles west of Socorro, and I just had to shake my head looking through the shots because my boychild is intentionally making a goofy face in every single one.

One day, he will regret that.

:-D

Ramblings with Riley

I haven't had much time for photo processing lately, but I try to at least look through my recent photos every few days to see what stands out and play a bit. I love this evening shot (above) of Riley because it really highlights his huge feet, and as he begins filling out (showing his Mastiff side a bit more every day) he is becoming a very handsome dog. He's not easy to catch standing still; the shot at right is much more typical of him, especially when we're out on the property. That morning he thought it would be fun to dash into the pond, roll around and get good and muddy, then run full-tilt towards me -- there's a wake-up call for you. He is a handful but is also a big sweetie, and I'm very glad Dad rescued him for us.

Miracle

Cosmos, Nov. 2011, Magdalena, NM

This amazingly hardy and beautiful cosmos greeted me this morning, having weathered several hard frosts over the past few nights, and it seemed a perfect symbol for this particular day that I call my re-birthday. Three years ago today I finally let go of a "coping mechanism" that I sensed was doing me far more harm than good. As my mental fog lifted I began to see and hear and feel so much more clearly -- and so much better -- than I imagined possible. Things I struggled with began to make sense, or to simply fall away as unimportant. I began to learn how to deal with events and situations and learn from them, and move on, and I began to feel strong enough to face rather than duck discomfort and uncertainty. I turned inward and found my core; now I turn outward to really live this life I've been given and to be there for others as others have been there for me. "Cosmos" refers to entities ranging from this cheerful flower to the whole universe, but the term (from the Greek kosmos, "order") also connotes harmony, which manifests in every living thing that emerges miraculously from the darkness and chaos of not-living.

Days Like This

My Favorite Pumpkin, Magdalena, NM, Nov. 2011

Any day that starts with a few moments of sunshine in the garden is already a good day, and yet this day managed to get even better. The seeds sown during my past few years of slow, persistent, sometimes imperceptible effort and transformation have finally begun to bear fruit, and I saw it so clearly today when a client facing some pretty major challenges told me he was beginning to realize that no one is helpless, that even when he has no idea what to do he keeps trying anyway, and that whatever happens he will know he did his best and never gave up. He didn't get this from me or from a book or some spiritual guru; he found it within himself. What a daring journey to embark on, trekking deep into the wilderness of heart and soul; some days I feel like a sherpa, and it feels like a huge privilege that people ask me to walk with them during their travels.

Studying Contrast

Two Trees at Sunset, Bosque del Apache NWR, New Mexico, Oct. 2011

I'm in the middle of bedtime madness with the kids, but I just had to post one of my favorite shots from today's trek to the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. I might finally be getting the hang of landscapes... maybe because I've given up trying to follow The Rules and just shoot what I like. As I began working with and cropping this image, I realized that it really needed to stay near-centered, which breaks the sacred Rule of Thirds, because... well, it's about two trees, it's about contrast, and to me this is what the picture needs to look like. I'm pretty sure I'll look at it five years hence and see how I could have done it "better," but today, yeah, it's one of my favorites. The color in the Bosque right now is stunning, and while the Sandhill Cranes and Snow Geese have returned for the winter, the crickets and cicadas and other "singing" bugs are still there to amp up the auditory experience.

Drought

The appropriately named Devil's Weed (Datura stramonium), Magdalena, NM, Oct. 2011

Not much to say today, but I wanted to participate in I Heart Macro this week (I find everyone's entries so beautiful and inspiring, especially this dandelion) so I grabbed a shot of a native plant that seems to embody the harshness of our ongoing drought. Today the kids and the dogs and I will be heading down the hill towards water, to hike along the Rio Grande bosque (wetlands) where the cottonwoods are deep gold, the tamarisks are brilliant auburn, and the Sandhill cranes are starting to settle in for the winter. I hope you all are having a wonderful Sunday -- to East Coast friends and family I send a good thought for digging out of that nasty cold white stuff....

Embracing Change

Cold Front, Magdalena Mountains, Oct. 2011

As predicted, a major cold front swept into New Mexico this week, bringing a strong chill, snow up north, and amazing cloud formations. On my way out of town on Thursday morning I had to pull over to catch this shot; I was entranced by how the clouds embraced the ridge, draping the canyons as if protecting their wildlife from the sudden chill. And then, the ravens; the image at left is a crop from the one above. I fervently wish I had a fast, crisp long lens (300mm zoom at least) to really capture the detail instead of having to over-process the image to bring it out... but this will do for now.

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....

Shadow Self

Self-portrait (with Apache) in sun and shadow on raw dirt. Magdalena, NM, Oct. 2011

I don't like neglecting my blog, but you know how it is when things press in and choices have to be made. I had to start ramping up my internship hours this week, which means more time in and commuting to/from Albuquerque, so I can finish the program next June and finally start working for money in this new career. Marital/family therapy seems like a great fit for me. And I have lots of ideas for making the career my own with twists like canine and equine therapy for kids (and maybe adults) with PTSD, therapy retreats for couples and families, that sort of thing -- somewhere down the road. In the meantime, I'm working, learning, and taking care of myself and my kids and animals, including spending as much time as I can out on the property in the open air. I love it when the horses come out to greet us, and the dogs take off after rabbits, and the kids start running and climbing and howling like banshees and just letting off steam. If I could build a house out there right now I would, because it is where I find peace almost without effort: I just have to stand for a moment in the stillness, and my soul settles. What a treasure.

Drinking It In

Hollyhock bud after the rain, Magdalena, NM, Oct. 2011

Double rainbow in the Magdalena Mountains, Oct. 2011

Yesterday was a day of thick clouds and steady rain that gave trees and grasses and perennials a much-needed drenching before the weather turns cold. It revived my flower gardens that are bestowing a final burst of color on us, and today I noticed new cilantro seedlings around the herb bed just in time for that final batch of salsa. As frost approaches -- it's quite possible we'll get at least a light frost this weekend -- I feel (as always) that I just haven't had enough time in the garden. I will especially miss wandering through the rows with Maggie, both of us eating handful after handful of cherry tomatoes and little pear tomatoes; I had planted five or six different varieties to hedge my bets, and they all produced quite well. My favorites: the orange cherry tomatoes -- even sweeter than the red ones, which themselves were hard to beat. Summer is just never long enough for me.... Another gift yesterday: just before sunset, the sun broke through low clouds to give us a beautiful double rainbow. Enchanting, as always.

Turning Towards Autumn

Los Girasoles de la Acequia (photo abstraction), San Acacia, NM, Sept. 2011

Reflection... makes me quiet. I'm resting (short break from internship), catching up on personal time, hiking, riding, doing some pre-winter cleaning up and clearing out, and resting some more. I've been photographing the change of seasons and today spent some creative time altering a photograph I took during a meandering walk one evening along the acequias down in San Acacia. These communal irrigation canals date back many generations and allow farmers to share the scarce water that flows through this land. As the season turns toward autumn these canals often abound with sunflowers, giving us a last burst of summer color before the seasons of harvest and rest. I bid you all a beautiful turn of the seasons and leave you with this evocative poem from Jimmy Santiago Baca, a New Mexico poet whose words speak to both current events and timeless themes.

Sometimes I stand on the river bank

and feel the water take my pain,

allow my nostalgic brooding

a reprieve.

The water flows south,

constantly redrafting its story

which is my story,

rising and lowering with glimmering meanings—

here nations drown their stupid babbling,

bragging senators are mere geese droppings in the mud,

radicals and conservatives are stands of island grass,

and the water flows on,

cleansing, baptizing Muslims, Jews and Christians alike.

I yearn to move past these days of hate and racism.

That is why this Rio Grande,

these trees and sage bushes

the geese, horses, dogs and river stones

are so important to me—

with them

I go on altering my reptilian self,

reaching higher notes of being

on my trombone heart,

pulsing out into the universe, my music

according to the leaf’s music sheet,

working, with a vague indulgence toward a song

called

we the people.

-Jimmy Santiago Baca, from Winter Poems along the Rio Grande

Bead Soup Blog Party!

Harvest Dance necklace; focal and toggle clasp by BSBP partner Barbe St. John

I love this resin and brass cowgirl toggle that Barbe made!

Thanks to a LOT of hard work by Lori Anderson, the Bead Soup Blog Party is here! As always, I had a great time working with the treasures that BSBP partner Barbe St. John of Saints and Sinners sent me; above is what I made from the awesome focal, toggle clasp, sari silk, and autumn-hued beads that Barbe picked out for me. I added in some striped glass rounds I found at Michael's the day before I got Barbe's package; the rest of the beads are from her and I still have some left over! Big thanks to Barbe for being so generous and for nudging me enough out of my comfort zone that I decided to just cut loose all expectations and play. Barbe, I hope you had fun with what I sent you, too, and thank you again, especially for the extra-special Albuquerque Wanderlust pendant! (I'll be showing that off soon; I'm composing a special piece just for me...)

Thank you, too, for visiting -- now it's time to blog hop! Go here for the full list of participants and their partners -- I know, that's a LOT of blog hopping, but you will love what you see! Enjoy the eye candy!

The Creative Exchange: Chile Season

Chile pequin ristras at the Hatch Chile Festival, Hatch, NM, Sept. 2011

Farmers roasting green chiles; red chile ristras drying. Hatch, NM, Sept. 2011

Time for the Creative Exchange; my theme this week is harvest season. Here in New Mexico I find the chile harvest especially enchanting because of the sight, smell, and taste of the various chiles grown here. New Mexico green chiles have a flavor unlike any other pepper; the mild ones are sweetly aromatic, and the hot varieties have a sharp heat tempered by that same aromatic flavor I've never tasted in any other pepper. Once the harvest begins in late August, vendors set up roasters like the one shown at right to blister the skins and give the chiles a smokey-sweet flavor. The scent is out of this world, and whether you thought you were going to buy some or not suddenly you find yourself craving them. Some chiles are left on the plants to ripen, then dried (in Hatch we saw roofs covered in chiles -- what a great idea) and woven into traditional ristras to be hung in the kitchen for easy reach when making red chile sauce, posole, and other dishes.

The Hatch Chile Festival draws people from all over to southern New Mexico to try the various chiles in salsas, relishes, sauces, and, my new favorite, hand-cranked ice cream with green chile. It's definitely the best place to buy ristras both for quality and for price; I only bought two of the multicolor pequin ristras shown above, but of course now I wish I'd bought some of every kind and color. Vendors sell lots of other goods too, including cookbooks (I've been wanting one with lots of green and red chile recipes, including chile jelly for canning), knick-knacks, fine art, jewelry, and chile-themed accessories. I really wanted a pair of the chile sunglasses this girl was wearing, but she had the last pair, so I asked if I could take her picture instead and she happily agreed -- her mom offered to sell me that last pair but I couldn't take them from this sweet kid! All in all it was a fun day, even if chile harvest does mean summer is almost over.

...and growing, and growing...

Riley and Lucy enjoying a water break from a Magdalena mountain hike, Aug. 2011

Lucy and Riley, May 2011

Remember this little guy who was dumped on our road one night and took refuge under my dad's car? Four months later, two weeks shy of his six-month birthday, he is as long as and almost as tall as Lucy, has a bigger head and paws than she does, and is closing in fast on 60 pounds. He's still rambunctious and a bit destructive but has a happy, sweet disposition and is smart enough to learn IF we're consistent with our discipline. And he's an awesome hiking buddy, mostly running with Lucy but also circling back to check on me if she takes off after a rabbit or deer. On our first vet visit she said he was most likely a boxer-mastiff mix, and his huge feet, big bones, and heavy jowls certainly seem to be expressions of his mastiff parentage. He is still growing in discombobulated bursts; one day we'll notice his head suddenly seems huge (the wide-angle close-up image below doesn't seem too far off from reality, except that his feet are actually much bigger!), and a few days later he'll suddenly seem taller. It's a bit disconcerting because we could have a REALLY big dog on our hands in a few more months. Even so, both both boxers and mastiffs are amiable and loyal, and mastiffs do mellow out as they grow up, so I have no doubt he'll be a great companion for a long time to come.

"Whatcha doin'?" I love this funky distorted shot; it's so... Riley.

I Heart Macro: Picking Pretty Purple Peppers

Purple Bell and Yellow Banana Peppers, Magdalena, NM, Aug. 2011

This year's garden has given me so much pleasure and joy, and now it's giving me gorgeous, delectable produce that I not only get to eat but also get to share. These peppers, though, I kept for myself and the kids, and of course to photograph for this week's I Heart Macro. I don't have much luck with peppers here at 6,800 feet, but this year I used black landscape fabric to both warm the soil and hold in more moisture, and that really helped. A few days ago, when I saw that the purple bell peppers were ready to pick, I took Maggie with me out to the garden to let her pick them for us. Her eyes lit up when she saw three perfect purple peppers. And when I set our harvest out for some still-life shots, Maggie asked if she could compose and photograph a still life, too. So here it is, and it sums up perfectly how we feel about our garden this summer.

Maggie's Garden Bounty Still-Life

I Heart Macro: Carrot-Tops

Carrot seedhead, Magdalena, NM, Aug. 2011

Photo-processing time has become rare lately, but tonight I am up very late (even later than usual) watching Hurricane Irene tear up the East Coast and awaiting news from my family and many friends around Philly and New York of how they're faring. So this week's I Heart Macro post is all about carrots -- the part of the plant we rarely see, which I had fun photographing earlier this week. In recent years I've started letting a lot of my root and leafy vegetables and herbs go to flower (despite traditional horticultural recommendations; no surprise there) because the flowers are often very pretty and unusual, they're attractive to good bugs, and the seeds help me keep the garden going on a tight budget. I find carrots especially fascinating, from the first fluffy flowers to the spiky, resilient seeds that can catch on a shirt cuff or a cat's tail and start a new carrot colony far from home.

Carrot flower, Aug. 2011

We all know that carrots have beautiful fern-like foliage that, sadly, is inedible, but when left to flower, a carrot also sends up a stalk that puts out a huge, showy white flowerhead that is busy all day long with all kinds of bees, wasps, butterflies and moths, and ladybugs. This may help explain why I never have to worry about low pollination or aphid infestations in my garden these days; in fact, I wonder if this is a bigger factor in "companion planting" (mixing herbs and flowers in with vegetables) than the specific plant combinations selected. Bring in more good bugs, and more good stuff happens in the garden -- how's that for horticultural good sense?

Pollinated carrot flowers turning into seeds, Aug. 2011

Developing seeds, Aug. 2011

As the flowers fade and go to seed, the head changes in fascinating ways, leading to the seed clusters shown at right and at the top of this post. They look so cool but also a little creepy, like a swarm of baby centipedes or something. I haven't bought carrot seeds in years, though, and having started with a non-hybrid variety I know I won't have to as long as I'm willing to "sacrifice" a few carrots every year. (Confession: it's pure neglect, or at least it was the first year I let some carrots go to seed; now I get to call it "seed saving" and feel all eco-conscious or whatever.) As you can probably guess from the photo at right, I have let more than a few carrots go to seed this year. I have had plenty to spare, though, and I just love watching the process unfold through the seasons, even all the way through winter as the seeds left out in the garden finally fall with the melting snow and plant themselves in the damp earth.

Carrot seedhead (the Mothership for part of this year's patch), Jan. 2011

No Place Like Home

Ed at sunset, Magdalena, NM, August 2011

Black swallowtail caterpillar in the dill patch, Aug. 2011

Oh how I love my home, as remote as it is, and my big garden and that view out on the "ranch" are just two reasons among many. Two weekly 200+ mile roundtrips to Albuquerque are starting to wear me out a bit (hence the lack of blogging lately), but I am absolutely loving internship -- every learning, growing, stretching, inspiring, rocking moment of it. Even the "failing" moments, those times I have no idea what to say or do next, have become great learning moments for me for two reasons: I generally suck at failing, meaning I never really learned how to handle it well because it was not "allowed"; and I suck at asking for help, which everyone needs to do sometimes so as not to fail again, or worse. This week especially I got some "practice" with these as well as core counseling skills, lucky me, and it was a timely lesson because I could feel my mind oscillating between, "Cool, I got this" and "Oh crap, what would I do if that happened??"

Zinnia among the fennel, Aug. 2011

I also love the drive home; I find every one of those 120 or so miles essential for processing the day's learning experiences, for unwinding, and for letting go of all the things I couldn't control or worried about or "failed at" or whatever. The drive up, I don't love that so much because that's when I worry, and I also just want to get started on the day, but my iPod playlists and podcasts keep me calm and well entertained, and I also get to contemplate the beautiful summer landscape.

Summer is almost over. Did I really just notice last night that the sun is a bit lower and is setting earlier, that the alfalfa fields along the Rio Grande are being cut and baled, that some growers are already selling and roasting green chile? The Blogger editor wants me to spell that as "chili" but that's not how we spell it in New Mexico, and if you've never had roasted green chile, well, it is an integral part of late summer and early autumn out here. Farmers and vendors set up in parking lots and sell sacks that you can take home and roast yourself or that they'll roast in big metal hand-cranked roasters for a bit more money. That smell... well, I'll get some pictures over the next few weeks, but you'll have to come out here in person to get the full sensory experience. And good luck trying to go back home once you do....

Fusion Beads Blog Bead Challenge!

August Garden necklace in brass, glass pearls, pressed glass, lucite, and Swarovski crystals

Earrings in lucite, crystal, brass, and glass

WOW did I have fun with Fusion Beads' recent blog bead challenge -- it introduced me to a color palette and materials I hadn't really worked with before, and I found myself energized by this combination. I've been ordering from Fusion Beads since 2007 and love their selection of beads and components, as well as the free shipping. I really hope they host more bead challenges because I just wasn't feeling creative lately, until I received the materials for this and started playing. Check out the other entries on their blog or Facebook page -- all of the entries are beautiful, diverse, and totally making me want to order another set and play some more!

Overview of "August Garden" set

I Heart Macro: A Moment in the Garden

Ladybug on dill blossom, Magdalena, NM, August 2011

Last night I realized I haven't been taking creative time for myself lately, so I vowed to kick off this week with a morning photo session in the garden. I spent almost an hour out there and came up with so many beautiful shots that I couldn't decide which one to post for this week's I Heart Macro... until I opened up this image in Photoshop. Catching bugs, butterflies, birds, and other mobile creatures is always a challenge, so I remind myself to just keep shooting until I happen to capture the creature looking fabulous. It's much easier (and more palatable from a resources standpoint) in digital to snap the 10 or 20 (or more) shots needed to get just the right angle and movement and light AND focus; last week's butterfly shot was the 27th of 32 shots (that was one patient butterfly!), and I wasn't even sure I'd caught it in clear focus till I opened the image file. The ladybug above only gave me 5 shots before flying away, so I know I got lucky on this one.

As always there are lots of beautiful entries for this week's I Heart Macro -- check them out and leave some love!

Summer Skies

Nighthawk at sunset, Magdalena, NM, August 2011

Reason #843 I love photography: I can't paint. Tonight's sunset was beautiful even if not splashy and neon, but just after the sun fell below the horizon it splashed color across the clouds that stopped me in my tracks. The texture and colors of the clouds made me think of the ocean, perhaps because my grandfather created similarly colorful, detailed skies in his oil paintings of 18th-century clipper ships. He grew up near the ocean and spent many vacations in "Down East" Maine, where his family came from, but I think if he'd ever come out west he would have found the skies here just as enchanting.


Sweeping sunset

I Heart Macro: Painted Lady

Painted Lady butterfly on Liatris spicata

I'm back in time for I Heart Macro; I had to take a bit of a blogging break in part to enjoy summertime and in part to begin adjusting to two 200-mile round trips to Albuquerque per week for internship. The drive is fine except for the busy interchange from 25 onto 40 on the way up; the drive home is easy (not much traffic at 7 or 8 pm) and gives me time to process the day. And every mile, every hour on the road is completely worth it -- it is an amazing learning and growing experience.

Today I finally picked up my camera again, just in time to catch this beautiful butterfly feasting in my front perennial garden. These flowers, known as gayfeather, seem to be a buffet for all kinds of fauna from bees to wasps to butterflies to goldfinches. Summertime is divine, this year as always, and now that the rains have begun both flora and fauna are flourishing. I hope you're all able to take some time out to really enjoy your summer!