choices

taken from alcatraz island at dusk...

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to have a choice is a gift
to make a choice, not always easy

but sometimes the choice is obvious

...so am i still looking for a job
or am i on vacation until my new one starts?

return

back in SF
doing the job search thing
getting compliments on my tan

walking

much has happened in a short while.
in the spirit of discretion I will not say more.

suffice to say i am at home in Manitoba,
spending the summer with family and friends.
the best decision i could have made

still i hope to be back in san francisco soon
to find out what else is in store.

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what do you do when all is shaken.
what do you do when you can't hold on.

beauty surrounds me as does destruction
i must live in the moment or it will be gone.

in the spirit of neo

the matrix will never let you go.
instead it will try to destroy
the very freedom you are looking for.

red

the color of my legs this last week
they are itchy right now
i think they are getting ready to peel

and all the people said...ew

Pismo Beach/ Sand Dunes

Four of us drove down one Friday afternoon a few moons ago. We got there just in time to eat some Mexican food and set up tents in the rain. Saturday, we strolled the beach, picked up some ATV's then flew up and over and around the dunes for a while.


Me in the foreground, Chris in the background, Ann taking the picture, and Liz somewhere out in the dunes. She was trying to first get help because I had managed to stall my ATV and second find us, because quite frankly it is easy to get lost out there. Note for those interested in taking on an ATV: Don't where nylon pants unless you want to take home a souvenier of a melted pant leg...


Pismo Beach...I don't usually think of dressing this way for a trip to the beach. We had just had some good BBQ and were ready to head back to SF

photo thanks to Ann & Chris :)

one month anniversary

a month ago today, my dad died.

biking to work in the morning
I get a call from my oldest brother,
he has never called me from his office.

my grandma, my dad's mom died this past night
she would have been 93 in August.

the last time I spoke with her she said she was ready to go,
she would go to sleep at night and wonder if she would wake up,
this morning she didn't.

his daughter

classic black dress,
open toe shoes with pointy heels sinking into dirt
I ask for a shovel and join my brothers
one, two, at least three full, thrown into the open grave

I am his daughter, what else would I do.

chainsaw spitting chips everywhere
dead trees taken apart piece by piece
I grab chunks larger than I should carry,
I am his daughter

bouncing along on behind a baler
my brothers and I take turns, 10 cents a bale
bend knees, lift, turn and throw
I am his daughter...

I wanted to spend more time with him
I wanted to build something with him
I would walk the streets of San Francisco
and breathe deeply at the smell of wood or fresh cut grass.
It reminded me of him.
I had not longed for home like this in a long time
A short time later he died

... pull up beside the pump
in winter storms and warm summer days
I reach up to see the water fill our tank
I am his daughter

smells of cut wood and drying glue
a skeleton of a desk, waiting for its skin
dinner is ready, but he needs to finish clamping one more piece
I am his daughter

this is how you turn it on
this is how you shift gears
if you forget to drop the blade you won't be cutting grass
I am his daughter

he comes to me, but I am dreaming
it is after his stroke, after his death
but he talks and stands with me
I am his daughter

Dad

Taken a few days before my dad suffered his first stroke.
He is sporting his new SF shirt I just sent him.
He died on April 12th, 06.

Tate walked his first solo steps about a week and a half later.

It would have delighted my dad.

I miss him. I wasn't ready for him to leave.

could it possibly happen twice?

I'm at the campsite, beautiful morning. My fellow camper is peering out of the tent in a sleepy daze. Perfect picture. I grab my camera, fim inserted and all, wind, focus, sna..... no "p" came with that snap. check, make sure I wound the frame all the way. sna..... Hmmm maybe I didn't put the film in properly. open it up, check, all good there, rewind it a bit, make sure the wheel is not jammed. all clear. but still no "p"

The camping story with come shortly, hopefully with some pictures that I will beg off those who came prepared with their DIGITAL!

Dern it. I loved going old school. I'll see what the folks at the camera shop have to say about my 20 some yr old buddy. *sniffle*

upcoming adventure

This weekend's forecast - 60% chance of rain & thundershowers. What have I agreed to do? Go camping over night and then take on some sand dunes in an ATV. Likelyhood of staying drying - almost zero. Why am I doing it - eh, why not...

...post report to come

It happens to everyone at least once - right?

I decided one day to go down to a part of the city that was filled with people. People distracted by other things so they might not notice me. I had my camera, and I was determined to invade the space of others to capture a piece of their world. A camera pointed at me is somewhat unsettling. So after I had turned the camera on myself for several rolls I thought it justified to now turn it on others. The opportunities were rich. A person eating by a statue of the starving Ghandi, a homeless man lounging with a view of the Bay Bridge, a lady with a fabric flower pot on her head - that's right folks fabric flowers and all (She was spotted all over the city that day). I am happily snapping away, cringing slightly when I snap a picture as someone walks in front of me, or missing the perfect pose when someone moved their hand. And then I reach frame number 38...39...40...obviously something critical was missing in this arrangement.

Lesson learned? Enjoy each moment as it is because you won't be able to take it with you? or maybe it is more simple than that...remember to put the film IN the camera!

distracted

And then there are days like today, where concentration gives way to twirling in the chair, checking my email, getting up for water, getting up to go to the bathroom because I drank so much water, writing emails, posting here and generally thinking about everything but what I am sitting in front of this computer to do.

family

This past weekend was a reconnect with my New York family weekend. Over a period of 3 days, I was able to talk to 3 people I hadn't spoken to for at least 3 years. I talked with a sister, an uncle and a mother.

My sister - as loving & corny as ever. Listening to her talk I could feel the hug that was entirely unique to her.

My uncle - a fireball, and unflinching in speaking words that bring life rather than those that appease the ears.

My mother - knew when something was wrong, even though she had no idea where I was, what was going on or even how to reach me. For over 6 months she has prayed that I would call her.

An amazing woman full of grace & mercy and for those with the eyes to see, an unrelenting warrior. She is familiar with darkness, and the remarkable transformation that comes by chosing to walk and fight through the storms. There is no such thing as impossible or hopeless to her, for she has met them face to face many times and they never had the last word.

To end the weekend encouraged was inevitable. This is the home where I first learned how to walk in a season of darkness, how to see that things are not always what they seem, and how to fight even when it made more sense to give up.

So I continue to walk, seek, and hope for that which was promised years ago, for into my heart which has come undone was breathed a breath of life.

Eve

if he didn't love me
he would give me everything i've ever wanted
and i would never have need of him again

exposed

I walk, yet my legs threaten to give way. I long to sing with joy but only mourning escapes my mouth. I look for truth, but it has become difficult to distinguish it from lies. I beg for mercy yet continue to be assailed on every side. Hope is whispered in my ear but I am sinking. I stand to fight but my assailant is unseen stricking me where I am most vulnerable. Lies pour down and cover me with despair. I ask for eyes to see that which is and that which is not. I turn to find my comrade, the one with the power to fight, also bloodied from battle. He turns to fall upon his sword in belief that he was the one who caused my wounds. As I turn to mine as well I hear mocking laughter in the distance.

walking

The best part of my weekend was Saturday simply in walking through the city. The sky was blue, the air was warm and I was not stuck behind a desk simply to look at it. I walked, breathed in the ocean air, heard the sounds of traffic, pedestrians on cell phones, smells & energy of Chinatown, the bustling craze of shoppers around Union Square, the attempts of a gallery monitor trying to sell me some high priced art. I walked, up and over one of SF's glorious hills, I came home ready to rest, until a friend called who wanted to walk some more. Up stairs, down stairs, into hidden residential alleys, taking in views, and reading of the neighborhood's history. And if I thought my legs were done for the day I was wrong for then it was on to dancing. That didn't last too long, my legs didn't have much left in them after all the hills & stairs. Who would have thought walking could be such a delight. For a while I thought it was just me, but a friend of mine had the exact same sentiment later that day. This is a beautiful city to walk in.

On Sunday it rained, and before it poured, I still looked for the chance to walk.

Nothing, not even the best and noblest,
can go on as it now is.

Nothing, not even what is lowest and most bestial,
will not be raised again if it submits to death.

- C. S. Lewis

only in chinatown

I'm at a bank in Chinatown, filing out my withdrawl slip at the counter by the entrance. I hear the movement of paper & plastic. I look down by my feet. Grocery bags, I thought someone had just put down, seemed to have shifted. I return to my withdrawl slip. The sound of moving paper and plastic continues. I look at the bag again and realize it is moving on its own. One of the paper bags, I notice, has holes cut out at the top. No sound emerges that would help identify the creature inside, no dampness on the bag to suggest sea-life, just every so often a few good hits on the sides of the paper bag.

I wait in line watching its efforts. No one else in the bank seems even slightly suprised. Soon the owner comes to retrieve her bags and continue with her business of the day.

I smile as I walk away and call one of my brothers to share in the amusement of the day.

me

As a person who loves taking pictures, I usually stay behind the camera, but I particularly like the low light in my room and wanted to take some pictures using that light. Only animate subject available - me- so every once in a while I've gotten in front of the camera.
I have more which I might put up at a later time.