Soothed, Stirred, and Reflected

It is funny how music can soothe us, stir us, or reflect us.  I can't say whether I choose music based on the mood I am in or based on the mood I would rather be in. Perhaps both depending on the moment.

I appreciate most genres.  Today, I want to discuss bluegrass/folk.  I will say a banjo and fiddle can always bring a smile to my face.  At a recent wedding, in Montana, the couple chose a bluegrass band.  (The couple was from NC.)  I was photographing the cocktail hour when the warm, embracing sound of home engulfed me through the music.  I was in one of my favorite places physically, but in that moment, the music transported me to "the back porches" of the South.  They are places where a warm evening is great for an impromptu gathering and instruments are always welcome.  Dancing to this music has no formal steps. The motion runs from the heart and soul, throughout the body.  There are no judgements - just "home folk." I could not have been happier.  I had the best of both worlds- Montana and the South.  I would also point out that a true musical artist can preform despite distraction.  This banjo player may not be world renown. However, he was kind enough to let me photograph during his performance.  If he missed a note I was not aware of it. 

Before I sign off I'd like to explore another quote.  "March to the beat of your own drum."  Now I have always been drawn to the drums, but perhaps you would like to march to the banjo or any other favored instrument.  That would be alright with me.  Can I encourage you to dance instead of march?

What Coffee Sunday Afternoon "Percolated."

This past Sunday afternoon, I walked down to a local coffee shop.  I took a book I have been reading and the journal I jot random thoughts in.  It was Father's Day.  Despite the fact that I am immensely happy here, in Montana, I wanted to hug my Dad.  I sat alone on the patio drinking my coffee. The beautiful sunshine and nice breeze brought a smile to my face and inspired me to write. I grabbed the journal out of my bag.  You see, a wonderful individual in my life has ever so gently pushed me to start writing these random thoughts and stories down...  so I have started... in my on way, of course.  I find the tiniest things spark an entry.  The topic this weekend.  

"Doing Well and Doing Good."

The South isn't known for its good grammar or correct pronunciations.  However, underneath Southern twangs and euphemisms you will find so much more. Yep, there are plenty of phrases that roll of the tongue like "meltin' butter off a warm biscuit."  If you pause for a moment, you will find the meaning so much more profound than the colorful and melodic choice of words.

For example, "Hope yer doin good."  Most people in our fast paced society would just nod assuming we meant, "I hope you are doing well."  I won't bend the truth, sometimes it is what we mean. There is always an exception to the rule, and so it is in this phrase as well...."I hope yer doin good."  I hope you are taking action, embracing opportunities, enriching the world and those around you with GOOD things & GOOD attitudes, and using all the gifts you have been blessed with.  Afterall, how can you be doing good, and not doing well as a result?  So, the next time someone passes you on the street, throws up a hand in greeting, and declares, "Hope yer doin good,"  I hope you are.  

Some People Stand Out in a Crowd

This is not the most artistic or technically correct photograph, but the subject itself is the art!  

Have you ever known someone that just seems to stand out in a crowd? I find it is the details in a person that put them on a different level. They raise the bar.  Let me tell you about my Dad.  I remember playing softball when I was younger.  It was my dad that would practice with me.  He even busted my mouth with a fast ball. (ACCIDENTLY!)  I learned to get the glove up faster.   We did not stop playing right off that day.  I remember seeing a little blood on the ball, my teeth hurt, and holding back tears as I shot an accusatory look at him.  He studied me a second then said, “Ahhh you’re aite. Throw it here.”  I did, hard, because I was mad then.  A few minutes later, my sister walked out the back door, looked at me and said, “WHOA! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOUTH.” Yeh, I cried then while my dad just looked at her and shook his head.  Ah, the power of suggestion.  Bless his heart he lived with THREE women!  

Later on at ballgames, it was my Dad’s whistle amongst the crowd that I could recognize as I ran the bases.  Anyone can be a father, it takes someone special to be a Dad.  My Dad has supported me, whether he has agreed with my decisions/interests.  He may not like them right off, but he puts forth an effort and always does the right thing.  That is what matters to me.   

I have watched my Dad’s life over the years.  He is steady. He lives a faithful life and works hard at his hobbies, interests, work, and most importantly at his family. There is so much about my Dad that I admire but a couple things that stand out are: his efforts to reflect and better himself and how he loves his family.   This man once tossed the keys to his 1970 LT-1 Corvette to me, his 18 yr old daughter, and said, “You are driving home. You helped me work on the brakes.”  I could drive trucks that were straight drives, but a muscle car is a horse of a different color.  And this particular “horse” had a lot more power and worth.  We briefly argued about me driving.  He won.  I drove home.  I ground the clutch twice.  He winced the second time. The car was sold long ago but the memory from X number of years ago rests in my mind like it was yesterday.   Now he isn’t perfect!!!  He will tell you that. He fails, that’s why he has my mom, Deidra, and myself, we keep him on track. (kidding)  He still takes my mom out on dates after 32 yrs of marriage.  It is his heart and focus on what he loves in life makes him the rose I’d pick amongst those that pale in comparison.  I love you Daddy.

(For those of you wondering: No, the image is not staged.  My mom noticed the extraordinary rose in her garden, sort of like she noticed my dad years and years ago. She has a good eye.)  

Friendship

What is a friend?  Maybe it takes a lifetime to truly grasp the definition of the word.  We have all had friends that behaved more like enemies, fair weather friends, one sided friendships, etc  I can truly say that I have a friend that has stood the test of time.  Mindy and I met when she was 7 and I was 9.  We soon became inseperable.  In the summers, we would spend weeks playing at each others houses: climbing trees, picking blackberries, playing in the creek, riding her horse, and playing M & R Gift Shop. (that was for you “Min”)  Mindy and I had a friendship that baffled our mothers.  We could communicate when they were around without words.  Our friendship survived me graduating high school when she was a freshman and thus being in different towns in different phases of life.  The key was that neither of us seemed to really change.  We could always pick up right where we had left off.  

Lately, Mindy and I have been talking about the importance of being grateful.  So many times, both people and opportunities pass us by without us ever communicating how thankful we are.  This will not be one of them.  

Min-DAY!, 

I am so incredibly thankful for you.  Your friendship means the world to me.  You truly understand me and yet, you still want to hang around!  You handle me at my worst and at my best.  Very few people can weather all the storms that life brings, but you have done it in beauty, intelligence, class, and true red-headed fashion.  You are a classic black dress and a comfie, warm sweatshirt. (Both are necessary in life!)  You are a truly, amazing person and I am so blessed to have you in my life.   Very few adults still have friends that have been around since childhood.  I am so thankful to have you.  I should have known it was a lasting friendship.  After all, we would stand in the pasture picking blackberries forever and you did not even like to eat them!  You picked them for your friend.  You are the definition of a true and selfless friendship.  I’ll love ya forever. 

PS- I could go for some blackberries now!           ~bec

I may be allergic to Miko, but Auntie Becca will always love him.  I hope you enjoy the pictures of you sweet boy.  Thanks for riding shotgun Sunday.

My Border Collie: My Heart, an unexpected lesson

Sometimes, when we least expect it, God brings something or someone into our life that we desperately need.  The best part is, we aren’t even aware of the void in our soul until it is filled by this gift.  

In September of 2008, I had just entered photography school and was preparing to move closer the following semester.  I had lost the two dogs that had grown up with me and now I faced living completely alone.  

Sara was a farm dog that “supervised” a 200 acre farm.   Unfortunately, she would be spontaneously attacked by the other female dog on the farm.  Urban sprawl has bled over into the rural area I love to call home. The farmer sold out and moved to Virginia.  Upon their arrival, the stress of the move triggered the other dog to attack Sara yet again.  This time the farmer and his wife thought little Sara was done for.  She survived.  They brought her back to NC and left her to live on the farm until the new owners broke ground on what would soon become a gated housing development.

My Dad used to deer hunt on this same property.  Sara faithfully would walk him to the edge of the woods, sit, and wait on him after dark.  My Dad, being the big tough guy he is, soon fell for her and told me about her.  I didn’t think I was ready to open my heart to a four legged fur-ball, not yet.  Working my way through school as a vet tech, I reasoned going to check on her was the right thing to do.  I looked into her eyes and immediately got in the car.  I mumbled, “She is going home with me.  She needs me.”   I look back on that moment and think about how ignorant I really was.  I did not know it  then, but it was me that truly needed her.

She became my constant in the roller-coaster ride of photography school.  It was her sweet eyes that would watch me flit around the kitchen, as I told her why I was stressed out.  It was Sara that would quietly lay in the studio at school while I worked on a project.  It was her I would run for when I pulled in the driveway coming home from my first summer in Montana.  She has reemphasized the picture of unconditional love.  She is  constantly by my side and sleeps on the floor by my side of the bed.  There have been days this winter when I have no smile to give, no hug, no pat on head, no words of love.  I just look in her eyes and it is only her that sees my soul at times.  She is ever faithful and loyal without demanding anything in return.  She has given me the look of understanding even though I didn’t understand myself.  This border collie is and has my heart.  And I am so grateful for the day that “she needed me.”  Only then did I see what was missing in me when she came into my life and made me better.

ps- Don't let the bows fool you.  She and I are country girls but, sometimes we like "gettin purtied up and accessorizing." Thanks for stopping in.

"It's not what you look at that matters, it is what you see." -Henry David Thoreau

Daffodils are one of my favorite flowers. They are a symbol of hope.  After a season, these yellow “buttercups” are the first sign that new life can be awakened from the slumber of winter.    They look so small and delicate, but are actually tougher than most other flowers.  Daffodils are perennials.  They come back consistently, year after year, in conditions that most flowers can not survive in.  (Tough little suckers.)  They brave the inconsistent weather of March in the South.  They grow anywhere; from carefully tended flower beds to roadside ditches.  Wherever they are, they bring beauty and splashes of color to a once brown, sleeping  landscape.  

When I see them I can’t suppress a smile.  It may seem tiny sitting on my kitchen table but, it brings a smile to my face every time I pass by.  To anyone else the view on the right is possibly all they would see in my kitchen.  The source of my smile, the image on the left, is what I see.  Only if you stop and pay attention to details in life, can you truly appreciate how beautiful it really is.  

Progress Is a Good Thing

A lot of small businesses are going under in today's economy.  We have seen this across the US, take  for example your local movie rental stores.  The success of online movie rentals and access to movies through cable providers have progressively eliminated the need for late night, last minute runs to grab some new movie to see. Another example - one that hits close to home for me - is book stores.  I used to love sitting in the aisles of local book stores, hours at a time, browsing through the selections. Bookstores are becoming few and far between as we begin to utilize online media purchasing.  I love the convenience of purchasing without leaving the comfort of my home, and if nothing else saving fuel costs, but now I am starting to truly see what we are losing in order to gain convenience.

Progress is one of my 3 chosen topics this week.  Again, I am not being negative or pointing a finger, because I love Amazon as much as the next girl...but lets slow down for a moment.  Let's look at a progression of books.
This is my Great Grandmother Rebecca's reading glasses on an old book that now rests in a curio cabinet in my home.

Next, I chose one of my favorite books, "The Last Lecture," (by Randy Pausch) and my reading glasses.  Since it is my copy, I write notes in the margins and highlight what speaks to me.  When I read, I enjoy the feel of the book in my hands, turning the pages, and I have to admit... I love the smell of its pages.

I remember used/old book sales at my local library. As a child, I was just as excited as I would have been on Christmas morning.  I would carry as many books as my little arms could hold.  My mom would make me choose 12, and it always took a long time to narrow down the decision. I was happier than a fox in a hen house! Today, as books and technology merge into one venue, our children will also download books.  It is easy, quick, and super convenient!  My question is, will they have the same sense of value in books as past generations?  Will they get tired of reading on an electronic device?  Will they know the joy of looking through shelves and flipping through the pages in order to decide which book they want?  Will they know the smell of books?  Yes, technology and progress are great, but I have been thinking....what is convenience worth to me?  I do know this....there will always be books in my house.  I am not ready to be a mom right now.  However, someday, in the future (if I have children of my own) I want them in my lap with a BOOK in their hand.  If they want a Kindle later, okay, but I want the wonder of the story lighting their faces - not the screen.