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• She Loves Flickr; I love artists on the internet.

  08Dec
  Categories: Weblogs, photography is amazing Comments: 1
  

  Up and over, by Janey's Journey

  The internet is full of happy surprises sometimes. This morning when I woke up I had an email in my inbox from a stranger. The subject line read, “:Love your photos,” and here’s what it said:

  Hi, I found your photos by surfing flickr.  They’re really
  very good.  I used some of them for inspiration for
  drawings, not to sell, just for the poses.  I posted them
  on flickr and my blog and linked here to you.

  I hope you like them as much as I like drawing from your
  photos.

  janey

  Gosh. That kind of made of my day, Janey. That such an obviously talented artist would feel inspired by my photographs is just beyond flattering. And looking at what she drew took me back to that moment when I captured those images, but with a new perspective. I caught them, like rubber balls, or frisbees snatched out of the air, but she rendered them over time, with strokes and dots and washes of color on paper. I can’t wait to show Meena when she gets home from school.

• Blogiversary

  01Apr
  Categories: Weblogs Comments: 0

  

  It snowed on Easter Sunday here. I meant to tell you on the day but I didn’t manage to get it done. I took a picture, though. This is the view from our kitchen window. That central strip of grass is our back garden.

  I also missed my blogiversary. I knew it was coming up, so I went to the archive to check when my first post was and I missed it. It was March 1st. So, here it is, exactly one month late: Happy Blogiversary to me.

• Stateside, For Now

  16Feb
  Categories: California, Me, Weblogs Comments: 0

  In the library today, working. Feels good to work, but I have one more essay to finish and major revision on a story to undertake before I can send in my next packet for school and I am feeling woefully behind.

  We are in California, however, and life is good, good. We arrived in NoCal last week and drove from Sacramento to Sausalito to stay with my mother, see my sister, and meet up with Aaryn, who, it turns out, has been carrying around a piece of my heart for who knows how long, and only now that we have met and she has given me a little tiny piece of hers can the earth go on spinning properly on its axis. I have met a few such people in my life, and it’s the luckiest most wonderful damn thing ever.

  And I would say more about it—like how she’s got the most amazing green eyes, and she’s gorgeously tall and has an uncanny ability to size up a situation or a relationship in a few well-chosen words, and—I could go on (an on) but honestly? I don’t want to share it that much. So:

  We hauled around a mess-o’ cameras.

  

  And took pictures

  

  

  We drank quite a bit of wine.

  

  We talked and talked and talked.

  

  And it was pretty fucking magical.

  

• Dear Blogosphere:

  05Feb
  Categories: Me, My Daily Struggle, Weblogs Comments: 0

  

  I miss you. I think of you every day. I think of all the things I want to tell you: like how Baybish has some words now (”light” and “hot”); how Boyish is growing up so fast–he’s dressing and brushing and wiping his cute little bottom (hal-lay-effing-looooo-yah) all by himself; how Girlish has finished all 7 Harry Potters and now started in on the Lemony Snickets (they’re shorter; she’s four books in already).

  

  I think about how I never wrote about Katie’s visit, and how awesome it was to have her here, and how awesome it was to just talk photography with someone whose eyes didn’t glaze over when I bitched about shutter speeds or flash diffusion. We took a walk one night and I stopped to look at the moon through the bare branches of a scraggly tree, and I thought, “Nah, too far away. Wrong lens.” And Katie said, “What, do you see something?” And it was the way she said it–the word “see“–that was so lovely to me. See, it was a photographer’s “see“, and all it implied, and it just felt so great to be understood in that tiny way. And so although I was only looking for something, and not actually seeing anything that I could capture, I took the shot anyway, just to please her.

  And I also never told you about Deb, and how nice it was at her house. Or maybe I told you about her house, but I know I didn’t say enough about how she’s like a pixie or brownie, maybe–one of those tiny fairy-type creatures that’s more mischief and mayhem and less sweetness and sparkly dust? She has a big smile and we have waaaaay too much scariness in common. And did I show you this?

  Her kids are funny.

  And while I was there, we talked about what camera lens she should get next, and I sort of talked her into a particular one, and then she got it, and Oops! It wouldnt’ autofocus with her camera. So she had to buy a new camera, and holy shit, you should see the pictures she’s taking now.

  So that worked out.

  And I’ve been trying to think of ways to make the blog fit into my life better now–maybe write about the books I’m reading or something, so I can multi-task. Because whenever I’m not writing my own stories lately, I’m writing about someone else’s, and when I’m not doing that, I’m trying to take pictures, and then there’s chickens to feed and laundry to do, and the dishes don’t do themselves, you know. And, oh, yeah, my blog.

  So, oh, I’ll say it again, I miss you guys. I miss the support I get from knowing, after I post, that I’ll hear from a few of you. I miss participating in the conversation. I am determined, though, not to give up. It may be quiet around here for frustratingly long periods of time–for you and me both–but I will get it worked out, I swear.

  (sniffle) ‘Cause I love you guys.

• I Know, I Know

  12Dec
  Categories: Family life, Weblogs, writing Comments: 0

  I don’t know what comes over me, but 10 days is apparently the outer limits of blog neglect. I got nudged twice today–by my sister, who I could temporarily ignore because she has ignored my instructions to get her own blog, dammit, but also by my very best imaginary friend, who I can’t ignore because I just can’t.

  I am busy! I know, I know, we all are, but it’s Christmas, and I suck at Christmas, and this year I have an extra kid and no car. I’m at a spectacular disadvantage! I’m paranoid I’m going to screw it all up! I managed to pull off a Christmas tree only due to the kindness of my neighbors, who I have told you before are so unbelievably kind I am quite sure that any minute they’re going to be whisked away in their spaceship or something, waving, “Goodbye, Earthlings, it’s been nice studying you lower life forms!”

  But also, my writing program begins in less than a month now, and I have assignments before the first residency. I have an essay due about a book that I don’t like very much at all, but it’s considered the masterpiece of Kenzaburo Oë, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1994. So I am obligated to figure this book out, because not only do I have to write an essay about it, I have to talk about it with a bunch of other really smart people. So, in order to figure out what the hell is going on in this book I have found myself, just today, outlining the chapters. Because the shit is complex.

  And I am learning something, which is encouraging, and sort of the point of the whole exercise in getting an MFA, I suppose.

  But it has distracted me from my blogging duties, and for that I apologize. And realistically, I’m going to have to drop back to about a once-a-week posting schedule, because I must focus on a different kind of writing. The kind of writing I believe I am best at, that most matters to me, and that I am most afraid of failing at. I cannot fail for not trying. I really must make the most of this.

  Look at me. Talking to myself on my blog.

  But one last thing: I had to email my picture to my program for the “facebook.” This is what I sent. Tell me, do I look like a writer, or do I just look kinda pissed? And what’s with that stupid mole between my eyes? I should get that removed, shouldn’t I? (Don’t answer that.)

  

• Ta-daaaaah.

  30Nov
  Categories: Weblogs Comments: 0

  

  Here it is: the last post of NowBloMe,YO. I wanted to be funny. I wanted to be profound. Or maybe sentimental, in a sweet, by not cloying, sort of way. But I’m afraid that all I feel like doing tonight is showing up. Friday, you know? I’m tired by Friday, and I’m feeling it now.

  I’m not going to lie about it; I really enjoyed NoBloNoMo. I didn’t think it was that hard, and although I didn’t always feel like doing it I managed to get it done. Some days were better than others. The best part, of course, was connecting with so many cool people all over the world each and every day for a month. My little corner of the blogosphere has been humming, and I’ve been digging on that energy. I have made new connections, and deepened old ones, and I’ve seen bloggers that I’ve known and enjoyed over the last year — but that didn’t know each other — find each other, through me. That’s a charge.

  Also, the list of blogs I like to read daily has about tripled, and while that’s probably not great for my time-management goals, it’s fun. The thing about writing every day is that you never know what you’ll come up with. There are days that I’m sure I’ve got nothing, and so I started posting about how I had nothing, and while my fingers were tapping, I’d start thinking harder, and before I knew it I was off and running with something I actually liked. That’s the way with writing, right? You just do it. You just do it, and trust the process, and the words will come. Not always the words you expect, or maybe not the words you want, but if you show up to do the work, the words will meet you halfway.

  It’s like the camera. If you don’t bring it with you, you can’t take the picture. And if you don’t take the picture, well, you’ve got nothing. You have to begin. You have to look through the viewfinder, at least. You have to press the shutter.

  It’s a good lesson for me to keep in mind as I get ready to begin my MFA in January. Do the work and trust the process. It’s my expectations that paralyze me. Wanting a story to be something in particular. Wanting it to come out a certain way. Never even trying to write it for fear that it won’t be what I imagine. How stupid, right? Of course it won’t be what I imagine — I haven’t written it yet.

  It’s like the camera. I set out to make a certain image, and in my attempt to make it I discover an image I never imagined.

  It’s about showing up. Because if you don’t show up, you can’t do the work. And if you don’t do the work, you’ll never make anything. So here I am: showing up.

  Now, then. Where’s my motherfucking prize?

  Tags: blogging, nablopomo, writing

• DAMMIT

  26Nov
  Categories: Weblogs Comments: 0

  Just lost a long and turning-out-to-be very cool post about what I want for Christmas. Now I am just about out of time for this today and can’t redo it — my gala event for English PEN is tonight, and I have to: print some photographs, get dressed, get the chickens from school, prepare a snack for them, and get Girlish, Boyish, and Baybish’s overnight bags ready for the babysitting that is about to ensue. Baybish won’t actually be spending the night (she needs her mama), but the other two will. It’s going to be a late night, but hopefully also a fun one.

  Tags: nablopomo

• Secret Boyfriends

  25Nov
  Categories: Me, Weblogs Comments: 9

  Some of my friends have been playing one version or another of this game I will call: Who is your secret boyfriend? After Mrs. G full-on invited me to participate, I just could no longer resist.

  I’ll begin with the absolute top of my list: Mos Def, a man who is handsome, brilliant, and unbelievably talented. I think he is simply one of the most gifted artists of our time: a poet, a rapper, an actor, and capable of moving me both intellectually and emotionally. Listen to Black on Both Sides; watch Def Poetry Jam; see 16 Blocks.

  

  You can also catch Mos as a regular on reruns of The Chappelle Show, both singing and acting in sketches. Which brings me to Dave Chappelle, who I also love.

  

  I wish Dave Chappelle was my friend. I find him so charming — his mannerisms, his voice, his accented speech, his sense of humor, his taste in music. I wish he and his wife would come over for dinner and crack jokes around the grill while we bumped mad East Coast hip-hop out the kitchen window. He could bring Mos along, we could all kick it in my back yard.

  Next up, Mark Wahlberg:

  

  Falls into the category of: just totally does it for me. Don’t know why, unless it’s just the all-American goodlooking bad boy with nice teeth and dark hair. See also, Vince Vaughn:

  

  God, just looking at all those pictures of Vince just now I got a little warm in all my girly places. This man is so sexy to me because he’s not only dangerously good looking, but also funny. I have a serious weakness for funny. See also, Jon Stewart:

  

  Who is funny and smart and handsome. A man with a very engaging intellect and a serious commitment to speaking truth to power. He just melts me with all his self-effacing modesty, his dry humor and lightning wit. And he’s short — short men are just utterly enchanting to me — particularly when they’re smart and cute and funny and really good at what they do. Which brings me to:

  

  Jackie Chan. I read his autobiography, which wasn’t very good, because I am so fascinated by him. He can run straight up a brick wall and balance on a swinging pole on a moving train. His parents essentially left him at an orphanage for boys run by the Chinese Opera. He grew up doing handstands for punishment and other bizarre shit.

  I haven’t moved far beyond my my most basic anthropological impulses in that men who are good at physical stuff get me all hot and bothered, even when they’re not that handsome. See also: funny.

  For a token blonde I’ll say Leonardo Di Caprio,

  

  although I could’ve just have easily gone with Owen Wilson.

  

  And even though that’s already far too many, I’ll finish with my longtime crush on John Travolta, who I have had occasionally amazing sexy dreams about since puberty:

  

  And ah, what the hell, I also had an amazing dream one time about Chow Yun Fat:

  

  And now I’m feeling bad for leaving out Marlon Brando, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Robert DeNiro, so I’ll throw them in:

  

  

  

  Shit, I could go on. When I started this post I was worried I couldn’t think of enough movie stars to make a post, but now I can’t seem to stop. This was extremely educational — I had no idea I was such a Hollywood whore.

• A Scrambled, Unfinished Post

  20Nov
  Categories: Family life, London, Weblogs Comments: 0

  Alright, confession time.

  I’m worried. I’m worried about my graduate program. I’m not writing at all, except for NaBloJobMo, of course. Which feels a lot like work right now. How effing privileged am I, that my BLOG feels like an obligation? Apparently I need more to do.

  Because here’s what I’ve got going on:

  I’m trying to start a little portrait business. I’ve set up a little website, and tried to figure out pricing, and I need to make a flyer, so that I can go to this “mothers in business” National Childbirth Trust craft fair this Thursday at this super-cool chick’s house. She’s a former investment banker, but she sells toys now, and she’s very witty, and has a cool English slang vocabulary. She called us a bunch of “leary harridans” at last week’s month’s meeting and I stopped the whole thing and asked asked her what “larry” meant. Because it sounded like “Larry.” (As best I can gather, it means loud and obnoxious.) Anyway, I like her, but I’m getting off-track.

  We were talking about all the stuff I have to do. I’m just going to go ahead and make a list:

  Finish the map for the gala event. (Which includes cutting out the little tiny photographs I took, and coloring in the remainder of the map, praying that the A3 card I bought today will feed through the copy machine, and pasting all the photos on all 36 maps, and sorting the postcards into 36 stacks of 15.) And hope that the map will look okay once it’s copied. Fuck.

  And although I know that none of you have the slightest idea what I’m talking about, you get what I mean, don’t you?

  There’s more, but guess what? I just got invited to go to the movies! Girls only! I’ll come back to this later and edify you further about my to-do list, ‘kay? I have to put it up now or blow napblopomo.

  Apparently I’m actually not that busy.

• My First

  14Nov
  Categories: Weblogs Comments: 0

  My first meme. At least I think that’s what you call them. (I can admit when I don’t know a word, although I must confess I don’t like to.) I’ve been tagged. My first time, ever, and so it wouldn’t do not to play. Although I am getting a little sick of talking about myself. Mrs Blogoway says that everyone who gets tagged says that, but in my case, I swear it’s true.

  So, the rules are:

  • Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
  • Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.
  • Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
  • Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

  1) I am not really afraid of bugs or snakes, and I think that people who are should just get over it.

  2) I haven’t really spoken to either of my parents since I left Texas in July. (Is there something wrong with me?)

  3) I am really into womens’ health as an issue of our times. I worked in an abortion clinic in Louisiana in the late 90s, and after having my first child in the hospital, I birthed the other two at home. I breastfeed. For years. Boyish never took a bottle (as in never — I tried, but he just wouldn’t have it) and neither has Baybish (but with her I realized I could get by without it). And I had and do have a life apart from them.

  4) I grew up in that stereotypical place that everyone imagines when they think of ‘Texas.’ I learned to ride a pony when I was very small, and there is a picture somewhere of me at about 7 or 8 months old sitting in the saddle on top of a great big horse. My mom is behind it, holding me up there, but you can only see her feet. My mom herself was a rodeo champion in barrel-racing and maybe pole-bending (or it might have been goat-roping; I forget), and my father was a cowboy for many years. As in: he worked on a ranch tending sheep and cattle and we lived 22 miles from town.

  5) I can eat, and I really really like, spicy food. The only thing I’ve ever eaten that was just ‘too’ spicy was this dish at the Thai Kitchen in Austin. It was called ‘Jumping Fish’. You know those little red and green peppers they say not to eat when you find them in your Chinese food? The sauce for ‘Jumping Fish’ was made out of just those, mostly, chopped into fine pieces. I couldn’t eat it. But it was the only thing that’s ever been too hot for me.

  6) The only religious experience that has ever really moved me is Yoga.

  7) Although I have a hard-core Texas background, I don’t really have a Texas accent. But you should hear my sister.

  That’s it. And I was reaching with the last couple, so apparently I’m not that odd.

  I’m tagging:

  Ann, because I worship her and always want to know what she’ll say.

  Katie, because I need to know.

  GoodLooking, because he is a doofus. Please go to his (new) blog and comment on how he needs to change the name of it. Seriously, back me up people.

  JPolly, because she loves to talk about herself and I adore reading about it.

  Jonathan, in case we ever bump into each other on the tube.

  Another Chance, who writes pretty, and

  13th Apostol, because she needs a break from the madness.

  Whew. That was a lot of work.