The Aries and Her Ramblings

That's a Wrap

2010-08-22T13:00:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

You may have noticed I haven't posted here in awhile. Well, that's because people change and things change, and for me, this blog is the past. There's a tone to the way I discussed things here that no longer comes out in my words. So, with that, I am going to bring the curtain down on the aries. I will leave the blog up as a memory of all the things I wrote about - a lot of extremely important stuff was put in to words here, and I'm glad that a few of you were here with me.

For now, the next part of my journey is being chronicled at a new blog. If you'd like to follow my life, please do. I would like it.

Thanks so much for all of your love and support and discussion through the years.

Initial Thoughts, 1 Week from Home

2010-07-13T08:07:00.000-07:00

- There are still no good radio stations.
- People are larger here. Not always overweight; but just, with an extra few layers of padding.
- I am entranced by billboards and signs here that advertise things I forgot happened.
- There is a particular light that hits the clovers at sunset. It's sublime.
- Hank loves grass.
- Hank loves cats (mostly)
- Hank is loved by everyone he meets.

Bridalveil Falls, Yosemite

2010-07-02T23:45:00.000-07:00

Squares, through Circles

2010-06-15T23:53:00.000-07:00

I'm getting out of California for a month in July, and I'm calling it a sabbatical. I'll be working somewhere else, where the colors and compositions are different, where the people are different. I need that.

I have no idea what this Summer and Fall will bring. There are changes afoot and everything may turn upside down at any moment.

So, I am throwing myself in to my work. Because I love it, more than I have ever loved doing anything. When I am not doing it, I think about doing it. I want to be the best. I want to know how everything works and how I can use it for myself. I will basically stop at nothing to achieve this.

So, only a few short weeks before I embark on a different journey, I added a new tool to my family whose last name isn't Canon. And, well - that's not the only difference.

It has it's first roll of Portra 400 in it right now, and while I'm sure this first roll will be a complete failure, all I can think about is holding it, carefully metering the light, and watching the looking lens reflect the frame on to the focusing plane. Winding the film to the next exposure. Waiting for it to get developed. Hoping for success.

Kind of like life right now...

The camera is a Yashica Mat 124 G Twin Lens Reflex medium format camera. It is still a staple in medium format (6x6 square image) world. Also, she needs a name. A good name...

Turn, Turn, Turn

2010-05-28T12:33:00.001-07:00

About an hour and a half ago, I stood in the empty kitchen of my two friend's apartment a mile from my house. I had just helped them take all the remaining boxes out to their car, where we had spent forever trying to get their giant TV to fit in the backseat among other piles of stuff.

Then, I hugged them both goodbye, told them to call when they got there, and turned toward my car.
Five years ago at this time, we were all euphoric with the excitement of a big move ahead. Saving money. Planning the final two months of our time in Madison before we left everything for California. We had nothing but big dreams and nothing to lose. We had this amazing friendship between the five of us and knew there would be tribulations, but together, we'd get through them and make things happen in this big, new world.

This, is the end of an era.

Despite the great things ahead for my two friends, and how happy I am for them to be moving on, my heart is broken. It feels like part of us is missing.

I am

2010-04-27T22:20:00.000-07:00

Daring to be myself. Despite what seems like an entire world going the other way.

Fun with Squares

2010-04-19T19:40:00.000-07:00

Suggestions needed.

2010-03-30T08:41:00.000-07:00

My hair is long. I have been growing it out since late 2006. Don't let that fool you - it isn't that long. It grows about as fast as Congress passes bills. It is fine but plentiful, and straight, straight straight. It doesn't curl when I want it to, or stay curled when it does.

If you've known me for any amount of time, you remember my signature haircut - the asymmetrical bob. If you don't remember that one, you'll at least remember the plain old bob - the one I had when I was married, and had variations of for a few years prior. When I think about myself in my head, I remember this hair, and it feels like me. When I see myself in memories, I see this hair. Right now, with the looooong hair, I'm feeling a little out of character.

I thought if I grew my hair out, I'd do all sorts of things with it - put it in big updos, leave it down in big, bouncy curls. I would do those things, if my hair wanted to. But it seems that 90% of the time I'm just huffing out of the bathroom pissed off because it won't do anything but sit and lay and be frizzy on the ends and greasy at the top. Am I just not doing something right? Is there a product, a technique I'm missing? Or, is it just not right for me?

Ladies and gentlemen...the time might have arrived. The time where the hair...goes. Back to the bob.

Yes or no? Answer the poll at the top of this post...or leave me a comment.

On Being a Keeper

2010-03-09T10:16:00.000-08:00

Don't go in my garage. You will likely not come out alive; or, at least, without imagining me as a 70 year old woman surrounded by boxes, cats and crying on television while the authorities tell me that they cannot find my husband underneath the vintage suitcases and extra chairs. Like this one.

It's not that bad - we clean it once a year-ish, throwing away things that no longer matter and organizing the things that do. But, to people who aren't what I am - a Keeper - it will simply look like piles of things -things - that aren't necessary. Things that make the garage messy and keep my guests from getting their own roll of paper towel.

I call myself a keeper, because that other word - the one that illustrates a popular and frustratingly sad television show - has that connotation that makes it seem as if its a bad thing. And that alone - the idea of Keeping being a bad thing - is something that I struggle with daily.
I have a collection, a massive collection, of vintage train cases and suitcases. None of them cost much, maybe $15 at the most, but most of them were found either dumped by someone else (a few weeks ago I found 4 on the side of the road!) or at thrift stores for pennies. I can't explain to you the feeling I get when I'm perusing the shelves at Goodwill and see a rectangular plastic case of goodness poking out from underneath the heaps of black zip-up rolling bags. Who could give this up? I think to myself. Who would throw such a beautiful and aged item in this bin with the likes of these generic, blah blahs? While I'm checking for fatal flaws (mold, major stains, major rust) I'm imagining where it came from . Who did it belong to? Was it bought by a young woman in 1954 for a cross country adventure? A birthday gift? Something bought but left in the closet until someone finally said "let's take this to Goodwill. You don't use it, you never have". You can always tell how beloved it was by how much wear it has.

And then, I bring it home, and store it with the others. In the garage.

There's so many other things, chairs that look beautiful, have character; the sewing table from the 60s given to me; old vintage radios that I found at Urban Ore for $1 a piece (and couldn't resist); pieces of paper and tidbits of things that I imagine drawing or painting on; knicknacks that call to me; and everything I've bought or been given that has, in my opinion, some use, some value, even if that value is simply a plan, an idea, in my long list of those.
Last year I fully battled my shopping mania and have been very, very successful at learning how to restrain myself and redirect myself. While doing that, I also began to understand why I surrounded myself in things, why it wasn't good for me, and that has helped in many ways to keep me from making lots of trips to the thrift store. However, restraining and fixing that part still hasn't killed the Keeper in me. That part is strong and alive.

I had an idea this morning that I should sell a few of my better train cases and suitcases on etsy, since a seller friend of mine has been very successful at getting great money from hers (she started finding them after I showed her mine). Sorrow came over me. What if a photo project comes along that would be PERFECT for the 20s green case?! And I had sold it off to some other girl somewhere else with another collection of her own.
Somewhere in the faces of these old things, these unique things, I find a personality. I find something I relate to, and a way that we can be mutually beneficial. This is fueled by what I call the Personification Complex (or Brave Little Toaster Syndrome) that affects me and so many kids of my age. The personification of anything that exists (lead by shows such as the Brave Little Toaster, The Velveteen Rabbit, anything made by Pixar, etc) To me, these treasures are alive. I am lucky to have found them; they are lucky to be given a home.

(Go ahead, roll your eyes. Call me crazy. But have you ever thrown a stuffed animal in the garbage?)

I sometimes have the sudden need to simplify. Get rid of everything in this house, everything I've kept just because, everything I've bought simply to make this a home, everything I said I'd do something with but then stored instead. Sometimes I imagine a clean office with no stacked canvases, craft papers, magazines and old sewing books, or irregular bathroom tiles. A garage without train cases. Shelves without oodles of 50s and 60s radios, unique owls, busts of Agatha Christie, and glass birds.

But more often than not, my need to simplify comes from the embarrassment I feel when I watch people discuss Hoarders, or even sometimes, me. I don't want to be the person who has piles so high that food and dead cats become rotten in between. I don't want to be dirty, horribly disorganized and unable to function in my home. Ever. I don't think anyone ever does. It's an illness, one that is sad and should be treated as such.

So, when I imagine my train cases, and my things, I feel tension. So much of what I have describes me - not in the way that a Lamborgini or Gucci dress describes someone - but in the way those things are, and the way they work with me. Is it wrong to want to conserve things that have character that others throw away? Is it wrong to collect?

Is there a happy medium between Keepers and Hoarders? Or, are Keepers always destined to be Hoarders in the end?

First, a photo

2010-03-07T11:37:00.000-08:00

I'm planning on blogging a little later today with some actual news and words, but before that, here's a photo of Baby C from yesterday. I had a meeting with a client in San Jose, so I could stop by Taylor's house and hang out with them for a bit. Impromptu photo session!

The older she gets, the more fun I have hanging out with the two of them (no offense Taylor, I always love hanging out with you). Now that Carys is well, more or less, a child, she's able to sort of be involved in our activities rather than being a baby and being cute. I mean, she ate a peep with us yesterday. I can tell that the three of us are going to have a LOT of fun over the years.

The Eyes Have It

2010-02-23T22:11:00.000-08:00

This little guy's face says it all.

I have a lot to blog about, but for some reason, I just don't have words lately.

Nothing Personal

2010-02-19T14:54:00.002-08:00

Or at least, you'd think so by looking at this blog. When was the last time I actually posted anything?!

I'm...exhausted. The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of change and circumstance, both good and bad. Or at least, both good and trying. Maybe not bad.

They have to do with changes we knew were coming and had started preparing for, though it seems one cannot truly prepare for these things without without still being shocked and depressed when the inevitable finally happens. To everything, there is a season.

Turn, turn...turn.

And so, we'll start this next chapter of our lives, one we've made outlines for, with pencil, of course, erasing and starting again - for awhile. I'm a believer in forced change. I think that "bad things" make for great opportunities to start fresh. I mean, what's the point in looking back? It's over and done. And in this case, no one is at fault. It just, is. And that's that.

I do know one thing. It's amazing to know that regardless of what happens, you have a home - a marriage that is home, that is really, in the end, all you need. I can't wait to venture on this new path with the Drummer.

Weddings: Danielle and BJ

2010-02-16T22:47:00.001-08:00

So, I have a photography blog, but I know that a lot of you don't read it, and well, I want to share pictures with everyone, so I am going to post them on both blogs.

This was an almost impromptu wedding (started planning in Dec, got married in Jan) and it took place between both the b&g's parents houses. I knew it would be a lighting challenge/nightmare, and It definitely was. However, those things are character building, and damnit, no light will defeat me! So, here's a little slideshow of the wedding. I think it went wonderfully. It's not your everyday church and hotel kind of shindig!

We Love the Moon

2010-02-02T09:40:00.000-08:00

On Saturday night, we had what is called a Wolf Moon - the biggest full moon of the year. I knew nothing about it until I received a text message from Taylor saying that they suggested I take a photo of the moon since it was so beautiful.

David and I were eating dinner out, so when we finished and stepped outside, I finally saw what she was talking about. It was...giant. And yes, very pretty. So, when we returned home to take Hank for his walk, I took my camera and tele lens out to try and do something I've seen so many other people do: photograph the moon.

Here's what I got:

How I did it:
I took this photo on my Canon XSI with a Sigma 70-300mm zoom telephoto lens. I zoomed all the way in, to 300mm (and this final shot is cropped).
ISO: 400
Aperture: 5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/160

In post production, I brought the exposure down a tad bit to bring out the dark parts, and I evened out the black levels.

If you are out there with a zoom lens similar to the 70-300 (if you can get anywhere from 200mm-400mm) I would suggest trying to photograph the moon. It's pretty simple and quite awesome to capture a shot where you can really investigate the craters.

Come Back Soon, Conan

2010-01-23T11:16:00.000-08:00

And all I ask is one thing...and this is...I'm asking this particularly of young people that watch...please do not be cynical.
I hate cynicism. For the record, it's my least favorite quality.
It doesn't lead anywhere.
Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get.
But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you. Amazing things will happen. I'm telling you.
It's just true.

-Conan O'Brien, during his final Tonight Show on January 22, 2010

And, quite possibly the only time in my life, past, present and future that I've laughed heartily at Will Ferrel:

Conan was never the comedian for everybody. He never will be. He is, however, the guy for me, and so many of my friends. I was so happy to see him take over the Tonight Show this Summer, but something always seemed off to me. Conan will always be crude, self-deprecating, and the sort of crazy that doesn't always appease the people who watched Jay Leno. I feel like he watered himself down these past 7 months, and he (and we) will be much happier on another network, where he's appreciated for what he is and how he does it.

His final speech last night solidified him in my mind as one of the most grounded and admirable people in show business. Thanks, Conan, for making me laugh like hell for the past week, and sending me off with a teary eye.

Come back soon!

Free Photo Booth Event!

2010-01-14T10:02:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, January 30th I'll be throwing a Photo Booth Party at my studio - err, my garage studio. What's a Photo Booth Party? Well, it's when a photographer (me) creates a photo booth - a backdrop, and a box of crazy props - and invites everyone they know, the people who know them, and anyone else out there who want to come and have their photo taken for free.

Come, stand in my photo booth, and take home two digital files of your photos. You can bring anyone or anything - I'll fit as many people, dogs, or props in to your photo as possible. Looking for a photo of yourself and your dog? Of you and your loved one? Yourself? You and your prized cupcakes? Anything is possible!

I'm a new photographer, and my goal is to meet everyone I can out there. Also, I want you and everyone you know to meet me!

There will be snacks, free yard play for the doggies, and did I mention fun props?

I really hope you can make it. The event will happen starting at around 12 p.m and go until around 5 or 6.

Please tell everyone you know!

If anyone has any questions, they should email me at nissanicole AT gmail.com.

Peace

2010-01-11T08:25:00.001-08:00

Nissa Said,

January 8, 2010 @ 2:41 am

I too have battled with faith, after losing important people. Yet, the more I learned about (Christian) God, the less I believed in him, or at least, the popular belief of what he is. The older I get, more I see and experience, the further I move from believing in any sort of God or deity. It just doesn’t make any sense to me. I do believe in science – in the idea that this is all the circle of life. We started as carbon and end as carbon, recycled in to the earth to be reborn as trees, plants, etc.

Where some find comfort in religion and heaven, I find comfort in the fact that we are all part of this ecosystem, that we contribute to the circle of life, and that while were here, life is precious and should be lived to its fullest. We should be kind, generous and make the earth a great place for all who are here. Each person’s life is a lesson to those who exist after. This is the cycle, and it continues.

I do hope that you find some clarity in this time, whether it’s through your old faith or a new one. I think it’s wonderful that you explore other people’s thoughts and feelings to better understand your own.

That's a comment, left by me, in reply to Her Bad Mother's blog post We, Who Need Such Great Mysteries. Please click on that link to read the post if you have time, because it is a fantastic piece that left me thinking for quite awhile. Catherine recently lost her Father tragically, without notice. Her writings since have been devastatingly heart-wrenching. In this piece, Catherine writes of being unable to accept neither that death is the end, nor that death is a return and a reunion with those you love for eternal life. She's searching for the answer, and speaks truthfully about her desperate desire to find faith, to trust it, to know that this, here, is not the end - or not to.

She doesn't know it, but her post couldn't have come at a more opportune time. A year ago today, a friend of mine committed a murder/suicide. Aside from the fact that he and his wife are dead, little else is known of the circumstances in which me made that particular choice. Unfortunately, the things that are known make the grief more complicated. My friend and his wife were in the middle of a separation headed toward divorce. My friend was visiting a psychiatrist to get a handle on his depression and was taking a popular anti-depressant. Aside from our friendship, I also have a cosmic connection with my friend and his wife, as I officiated their small backyard wedding two years ago.

In this year since, I have struggled to find peace. In hoping to cleanse my soul, I explored many faiths, some for the first time, others for the second or beyond. I have always envied the peace that religion gives to some people around me.

I have furiously held on to pain and anger - tremendous anger - over my friend's choices that somewhere in myself I think I felt I needed to share within when I saw him again. I held on to the sorrow, the pain of not being able to know, not being able to help him and her. I was nauseous with regret for enabling their marriage, which at the time seemed so joyous, so true. Still, there was nothing in faith that gave me peace. Though I have tried, numerous times in my life, to give my sorrow and my pain to God, to free myself in his plan, I just...cannot. I have begged to believe. Begged myself. Why do I hold on to this pain, this anger, this frustration, this sadness - if this is the end? Of what use is this strife?

These things ultimately have led me back here. Here is now, because that's what I understand. When I typed that comment to Her Bad Mother, I realized that something in me has changed. I really, truly believe that which I wrote. If I close my eyes and visualize death followed by nothing - by peace - I am flooded with relief. I'll be honest - at first, it shocks me - but if I let it continue, I see the circle of life, our Earth, and the life around us recycling.

That fighting thought that this can't be the end - we're too smart, too wonderful, too connected - it illuminates the true beauty of human life. But for me, it's not because after death, we're all reunited in heaven. We, to those who come after us, are a lesson. Our actions on this earth change everything. Our hands create brilliance (if we let them) and our love moves mountains. Those things cannot be erased once our lives end. Think about it - you are who you are because of other humans - your family, your friends, people you don't know but run in to, the doctor who fixes you, the guy at the grocery store. And it builds as children are born, raised, and passed into the world. Our journey is less selfish than it seems. We are all but a part of a cycle that will continue far beyond our death.

My friend's actions are accountable only to him. I did what was humanely possible. I gave him what I had to give. I cannot change that I didn't know he would commit this horrible act. I also cannot change that he is gone, for his family, his friends, or myself.

I am accountable for my life. There are no excuses. How do I want to be remembered? What will I give my children, and those who come after me? How will I participate in this cycle? These questions sound contrived, but they are so relevant. With this freedom to believe that the end is the end, I'm left beginning to understand that I need to be more selfless in my life journey. This doesn't mean I shouldn't take care of myself, or be successful for myself, but instead it means that I cannot dwell inside fear, anger, pain, or grief. I need to use the resources around me to contribute, however that contribution formulates. To forgive. To allow myself to understand that with time I WILL age, I WILL change, and eventually, I WILL lose those who are important around me. At the end, I will die, and the energy of my life, my successes, my failures, my lessons will circulate those around me. My body will decompose and give life to something new.

With that, I feel great peace.

100 in 1000

2010-01-05T20:02:00.000-08:00

As inspired by other photogs out there, here's my 100 in 1000 (goals for 2010 - 2013)

I will probably post these on the blog somewhere to update as I hopefully complete each goal.

And, if you're out there and want to complete your own list - link back!

2010

2010-01-01T20:22:00.000-08:00

I thought I was going to have a great post to write today, about this past decade, this past year, and how it's related to my life. I've thought about this particular post for the past week and thought it was going to be great.

Then, today came. And I didn't have anything to say.

I think I just realized I want to look forward. I want to leave what's in the past behind me, the good and the bad. Some great things happened - and some terrible things happened. But, that's likely no different than any decade. Every year is filled with the good and bad.

I like the sound of 2010. It's kind of sci-fi sounding, real futuristic-like. And, it's a round number. We can say twenty-ten instead of two thousand ten, which let's be honest, is too long.

So, instead of writing a post that reflects on this past year, this past decade, I'm just going to look forward, and hope that this can be the year, the decade of happiness and success. Of being the person I feel like I am, not always the person I give to the world at large.

1.365 - Hank, watching

2010-01-01T20:14:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm going to try and do Project 365 again this year. :D If it happens, it happens!

Hank - The story

2009-12-31T08:44:00.000-08:00

Hank was a puppy mill dog. Though he's only been a live a bit over a year, he's had little exposure to the outside world - to people, new dogs, and the wonderfulness that is living with a mom and dad who are going to shower you with treats and squeaky toys.

Our journey so far has been intense. We've just passed Week 2, and with it has come some progress. For the first week, Hank's fear allowed him only to sit on the floor, cower, and hide his face. He'd press his little black nose in to anything that was in front of him - totally avoiding both me and the Drummer. He didn't move for hours, barely ate or drank, and had to be forced out the door to try and use the bathroom.

Walking was the first key to Hank's progress. We started really pushing him out the door, and walking him with a lot of speed and purpose. At first, though he followed us, he'd cower when anything passed- people, cars, etc - and sometimes, he'd flip around, jump, and try to escape his collar. I combated this with simple leadership. Eventually, he let that go and continued without the fear.

The second key has been exposure to people and dogs. The more time we spend at other houses with other people and dogs, and with others here, the more he opens up. He is inquisitive and gentle with new people and animals - although he's quick to correct when necessary. He follows me wherever I go if there are others around.

He has begun to bond to me, which has come with both rewards and challenges. He has not bonded with the Drummer, so he perceives him at times to be a threat to our pack. He will growl at him, when he comes home or comes too near to me. Of course, we're working on this - but it remains a little funny to me that anyone think of the Drummer as a threat :D Hank is not aggressive, but fearful and not confident, so the protection comes along with that. He'll progress.

I have been really unable to write about this process until now. I have been overwhelmed with the emotions and trials of this process. I knew that he would be damaged - quite damaged - but I didn't know that it would have been this bad. There were times when I thought I didn't have the strength to work with him, when I didn't know where to start.

I've always known it's better to rescue a dog - but with rescue, you get emotional baggage that you didn't install. This dog was damaged by some jerk somewhere else, and he's only acting on his fear of what's been done in the past. We're uninstalling some major issues and this will take major time. On the other hand, this dog would have been euthanized in the shelter, because no one would have taken him home. We're giving Hank a second chance at life, a young life, and with time and patience, he will make it.

I have been frustrated because this dog doesn't speak - english, of course - and while that's obviously just frustration, I've been lead to better understand the universal language of energy. Trying to give out the best possible kind, not only to Hank, but to those around me. That's the real key to his success, and mine, actually. I have a feeling that by the end of this journey, I will have learned more than just how to really rescue an abused animal.

Hank

2009-12-15T22:35:00.000-08:00

Originally, I planned to write a blog about Hank's arrival process, how he got here, and how he's doing, but I'm too exhausted. I will probably write more later, but right now, I'm just not able to do it. Instead, I'll show you this quick photo of him, so that you can send him all of your happy thoughts and love , so he may become comfortable and realize that he's home for good now.

This, that, and the other thing

2009-12-09T00:10:00.000-08:00

I wanted to share a few photos I took of the front yard yesterday while collecting some images for a final project. I really loved these.

It's been FREEZING here for the past three weeks, and today, the third day in a row I had the heat on most of the day, I was feeling like I was back in the Midwest again. The Drummer and I went out to do errands and seriously had to get home quickly because we were just miserably cold.

It feels more like this!

Except, we're still 2k miles away from family, so no thanks, Mother Nature - you can bring the California back now. :D

If you read my earlier post today, you know that we've been approved to adopt our dog. He will be arriving here in the Bay Area either Sunday night or Monday.

We're super excited - well, I'm excited - I think David is, too, but I imagine he's a little overwhelmed on what will happen, since this will be his first time owning a dog. I think once he's here, it will be easier for him to adjust.

Because we had to do a home visit with the rescue group to be approved, I've already stockpiled a bunch of dog items to make our house look "dog friendly". Thankfully, the pet store offers me a great deal on supplies - so, he'll be rather spoiled. The two most important things haven't arrived yet - his crate and his heated bed :D Those will be here tomorrow.

It's a little sad in the house without rats. Sad and quiet, with some extra space. I miss the girls but have already gotten emails from their new owners on how wonderful they're doing. I do feel good that the amount of time and attention we put in to the ratties will be beneficial to their new owners.

This final picture is to show you "the dog shelf". Do not let your attention wander to the large stain on the floor - that came with the apartment :D Instead, you'll see a wicker basket with a toy on top. That basket is full of stuffies, to be chewed and destroyed and strewn about the house soon. It used to be the record shelf, but I advised the Drummer to put them up high away from doggie teeth. Voila! Room for doggie toys and other supplies.

Approved

2009-12-08T07:57:00.000-08:00

The Drummer and I have been approved for adoption! We will be finalizing details today, and I'll let you know when we'll be expecting our new child.

Living this kind of life

2009-12-05T15:55:00.000-08:00

As December begins, we're approaching the deathiversaries of two people whose lives impacted me greatly. They are two completely different people, from different places, different times, and with very different stories.

Both of these people left in what was, so far, the darkest period of my life, when I was in despair for clarity and direction. These two people's stories ended the exact opposite of each other - one with chance, one with a choice. I sat there in between; trying to be thankful for what little control I had; my good health, my talents, the things my hard work had given me. I found some comfort in the dusky, foggy clarity that kept my life from ending like his.

A few weeks after my second friend's death, I changed. After the most difficult grief was subdued, I embarked on a new journey fueled by the understanding that this is MY life. I am able bodied, intelligent, and a citizen of the free world - and until any of those things change, I am in control of my destiny. I get to decide.

Now, a year later, I'm in a different place. I'm not the girl I was last year at this time, but the path of my life is still in need of a lot of work. This week, particularly, I'm in a creative drought. I have finals due and a massive marketing campaign to design with regard to my business, and neither are getting done. I haven't photographed anything lately. I haven't even been blogging.

I know that these weeks happen, to everyone. I know that I'll probably end up finishing my finals on time, and hopefully, they'll be Ok. I know that I'll pick up my camera again. It's just that now, while I'm in the hole, it's dark.

The Drummer and I went back to Minnesota to stay with his parents for Thanksgiving. While we were there, we visited the Art Institute, which is a gigantic museum filled with works from ancient to present. I love visiting art museums, obviously, and I've been to a few great ones. This visit, however, made the other experiences seem tiny in comparison. I browsed ancient Chinese ceramics, Japanese block prints, Gallileo's writings, and even a real reproduction of the Doryphoros. Of course while the Doryphorous's creator, Polyklietos, and Gallileo are famous and known by most people, much of what I saw there was without a known artist. The works were on exhibit because they are symbolic of times, of movements, important ones, that defined and inspired in myriad ways. These artists may have been well known and beloved in their times; they may have been nobodies. Regardless, they probably never imagined their work being studied and implored by millions of people thousands of years later. Most of the time, they didn't realize they were innovators. They simply lived and created.

For awhile after our visit I was feeling overwhelmed by all the inspirational work I'd seen. I think most artists feel that way - that you want to take from what you've seen to make your work better, but that those artists were masters you'll never be. While walking through the museum I thought I'd come home and create, create, create, but it's actually had the opposite effect.

Two days ago, the Drummer and I went to Target for a few things. The particular Target was a different one than we usually visit, and is designed in the same fashion that the Target by my old job in Redwood City was. We visited the frozen food section, and continued on toward the Christmas candy and supplies on the right followed by the electronics, and the toys and baby supplies on the left. I looked to the right and saw a cardboard display holding lots of different bags of M&Ms - regular milk chocolate, peanut, almond, dark chocolate, and a Christmas specialty - mint. I was then slammed with a a memory - still very vivid, of work friends and I milling that aisle a few weeks before Christmas, two years ago. There was a life-sized pony in the left aisle across from us, built for little girls. My friend Jason picked up the mint M&Ms in disgust.

"These are TERRIBLE. Mint should not be here. Ever."
My friend Ray let out a subdued giggle. "Oh no, how terrible". We always made fun of Jason because he was black and white about everything. This guy hated vegetables, and was absolutely against even eating a pizza that had ever held a veggie, removed or not. He was extreme about his opinions.

I, on the other hand, LOVE mint.

Other things transpired in that aisle, that visit, things that include white fudge covered Oreos, Spiderman action figures and Wii games. It wasn't a visit out of the ordinary. Yet since standing there, in front of the Mint M&Ms, I have been back there, that day.

Those are the things, in the end, that you can't tell someone you'll remember. That you'll miss. I know he probably never imagined that I'd hear his voice so clearly in the aisle of a Target.

We build our lives based on expectations. While there's definitely differences in the exact expectations for different people, the basics are always the same. Success. Notability. Happiness. Long life. Good health. Love. Money. We live our lives with respect to the expectations in which the world runs on. We judge each other and ourselves based on these expectations, regardless of where we started or stopped.

I went to a friend's birthday party last night. She's a dear friend, and one that doesn't have very much self esteem. She's beautiful, funny, and brilliant - she was the Salutatorian of her class this Fall when she graduated from Pharmacy school. Now, she's a Doctor. She told me, almost in passing, that she'd applied to many schools to do her residency - with letters of recommendation from her mentor - UW Madison, UM, Stanford, UC Davis, Mayo Clinic, and a few more. She then scoffed that she wasn't getting her hopes up. I know she'll get one of these jobs. But standing there, she really believed that she has no chance. She's not just trying to get praise. I felt so much pride for her, because I love her like a sister, and to see her making this awesome life for herself makes me feel so incredibly happy for her. She stood there, a Doctor, a non-believer in herself. I stood there feeling like a worthless pile of shit. I haven't even finished college, and she's a doctor. She'll go on to make great money, do something she really enjoys, and live close to her family - who are amazing. I felt like an insignifigant flea with nothing to offer and no real future because I don't deserve it.

This morning, something startled me to visit Emilie's blog. I read many of the posts from November and December...the end. Part of what made her death so shocking was really the fact that a week before hand, she wrote this. I don't think any of us who weren't near her understood how much she was suffering, because she wrote with this fervor for life that was unwavering. She wrote with a passion that most of us with decades in front of us to live don't have. She accepted that her life path would take her in a different direction than others. I have read this article that she wrote for the Catholic Spirit many, many times. That article alone has helped me to understand faith in God, as people should see it, and how I can respect their opinion. And, apart from that, it can be interpreted for someone like me, an Atheist, as well. She's basically saying, what if we let go of what we cannot control? What if we put those things in the care of "the man upstairs" and concentrate on being what we are? Living the life we have?

Maybe Emilie didn't understand it, but long before she wrote that article, she did. She accepted that she was going to die, and her life path was different from those around her. Joy, to her, would be different. Happiness and success - to a young woman with terminal cancer - were not impossible because of a shortened time on earth. They were just different. Found in different places, made absolute in different ways. So many of us read her blog and expected to see pain, anger and sadness because that's what we think someone should feel when their life won't be the standard, the norm, what's expected. Instead, we found someone who had defined her own life in acceptance of what chance had given her.

For the rest of us, it might not be that easy. We don't even know what our life path will be. We, for the most part, don't know when we'll die, how much time we have. We don't know how long our family will be with us, or our friends. We don't know if we'll lose our health in some way that changes us. We don't know if the world will end. My friend Jason didn't know when his suffering would end, and he didn't realize that so much of it wasn't in his hands. He lost track of his life path, and because he was judging himself by someone else's standards, he made the choice to end is. I wonder - had he met Emilie, or someone like her - would he have done differently?

I don't have control over those things. I only have control over what I am, and what I do. Can I do what Emilie did? Let go of what's chance, and put those parts of my path in the hands of whatever makes those decisions? Can I live this kind of life and define success as it pertains to me rather than the greater world? Can I accept that this kind of life is equipped with the difficulties and dreams within me? That I might not start or end like them, so I can't expect that any part of my path will be like theirs?

I know, it sounds easy. But do you really understand it? Have you really accepted with living your kind of life is? Are you making the most of it?

Knock on Wood

2009-12-01T16:30:00.000-08:00

Well, I know that it is not a good idea to talk about things before they are written in stone, but I'm going to go ahead and give you a little peek at something I'm working on.

Now, I might have mentioned in the past that the Drummer and I would be welcoming a new addition in to our family. I may have also mentioned that we'd have to move in order to do so, but some things have changed with our landlord (she decided she loves us) and we'll now be staying at the current apartment and the bringing new "child" in to our family sooner.

Now, I must say before going forward, there are only two things that are certain now. 1 - we ARE getting a dog; 2 - it WILL be hairless. What is not certain is that this dog will be the one, however, we're hoping he will be, and it's looking more and more to be true:

He is an American Hairless Terrier, he's a year old, and he's a rescue dog.

I don't expect you to croon over how cute he is, because I know some people don't love the hairless thing. He's not a cuddly poodle or happy golden retriever, but that's because the Drummer is allergic to all that fur. I, on the other hand, think he's adorable. I love uniqueness, and these dogs are definitely that. They're also active, long-lived, and pretty small and good for traveling with us.

Anyway, we're in the adoption process now, so wish us luck that this little guy will come home to us before Christmas. I don't want anything else!

Updates

2009-11-20T15:13:00.001-08:00

Hmm, well, it's been awhile since I posted, so I'll make this sort of an updates posts for anyone out there who has been wondering what I'm doing while not blogging.

My friend Sara came to visit. She's one of my oldest and dearest friends. We had a great time seeing the sites and catching up. There's a lot of things I could say about our visit, but I haven't really been able to create the words on how I'd begin to describe it. There are people in the world, and from what I can see, very few people, who really "get" you, to the point where you can kind of do things and just exist and know that the person you're with is enjoying them the same way. She's one of those people.

Sara learning how cold the Pacific is, while walking the beach in the Marin Headlands

Visiting the Muir Forest, where there's quite a few ancient Coastal Redwoods

Hanging out at sunset at Ledson, one of my favorite Sonoma wineries.

Sara stole these from a vine along the road!

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David and I had been apartment hunting for about the past month. I love moving, but I hate trying to find the right place. They always look better and bigger on Craigslist. We saw some real trash, and a couple of OK places - but overall, the apartment we have now is a great deal, and we're going to stay here. There are other developments on this front but I am not going to discuss them in detail now, because I don't want to jinx anything. I will update soon.

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I have been busy with photo work and design work. I will share some photo slideshows soon, but for now I have been busy working on my 2010 lookbook, and branding materials for my photography business. The lookbook is a price list and portfolio of my work that will be getting printed and bound. I hope to share it with all of you at some point, as I'm very proud of it.

I'm sort of in a corner at this point because about half of my gear is broken. My backup camera and my flash need repair (thankfully if I hold it while I'm shooting, it works, sometimes) , and my portrait lens was destroyed in a tragic incident. None of these things can I right now afford to fix/replace. So, send me positive wishes of getting some good work so that I might be viable to run the business with the gear I need.

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The Drummer and I are going to visit his family in Minneapolis for Thanksgiving. I am sad to not be going home for Christmas, but it should be fun to travel for a different holiday.

Family: a Five Act Play and the Case for Gay Marriage

2009-11-04T09:02:00.000-08:00

I grew up in a small, primarily white town in middle America. I got a sub-par education at a school more focused on the Football season than the Ivy League. I was raised secular by a Catholic woman who never finished high school and an man who never went to college who never really loved each other, but produced me and entered in to a loveless and destructive marriage that lasted roughly one year.

I spent the first few years of my life wondering where my Dad was. I spent the first 10 years of my life moving from apartment to apartment, my aunt's trailer, or my Mom's next boyfriend's couch. When that boyfriend got my Mom pregnant, and then proceeded to abuse her, we moved in to a one bedroom apartment where we shared a bed. The night my Mom went in to labor with my brother M, my friend's Mom came to pick me up, and proceeded to try and explain to my 7 year old self and my 6 year old friend that babies came from the cabbage patch. The next morning, I was taken to visit my Mom, and my new brother, and that night my Mom and I shared the "couples dinner" that is a gift to the parents of each new baby born at that hospital. During our dinner, my brother's Dad burst in to the hospital room, demanding and cursing my mother. He broke in to our house and blamed me. Custody battles ensued, and I testified, at age 7. A year later, he threw my Mother off his porch, breaking her arm. They were awarded joint custody, and my brother lived with us one week, and his Father the next. These two individuals, these two parents, who never married but produced a child together, raised that child for 16 years without ever speaking in person, without once making a joint decision until the day that his father left him at my Mom's house, at age 16, and told her "you can have him. I don't want anything to do with him anymore. I'm done."

My sister J was born when I was 10, to my Mother's new boyfriend who moved in with us a year before. My brother M was three. This boyfriend started like all the others - nice and interested - but by the time I was finishing middle school I feared for my mother's life - and mine. He worked long hours and came home late only to begin rousing, violent fights with my mother over money and infidelity. I stepped in many times, once to remove his hands from around her neck. When I was 14, he threw me into a large framed print, breaking the glass against my head, and later, to the ground with my arms twisted behind my body. My Mother denied it. I moved in with my Dad. This boyfriend later blamed his continued emotional abuse on me and my place in the family on my choice to leave the house. When I was 17, and my mother was 40, my brother K was born. When I was 18 and my mother was 41, my Brother J was born. I drove her to the hospital, because this boyfriend was at work. I could describe to you these two years, how this went, but I can imagine by reading this far, you already know. Following the birth of my brother J, the relationship began to crumble. Three children was too much for this boyfriend, who never wanted kids, like he'd told my sister - he wanted my Mom to have abortions. He wanted my Mom to abort her, and the boys. It was right around the time that K was born when he had "the affair" - the one he secretly rented his own apartment for, in the city he worked in, the one he lied about until she finally kicked him out when I was 21. My brother M was 14. My brothers J and K weren't out of diapers. He skips his child support, sees his children once a month or less, and has not, since leaving, spoken to my brother M - the 18 year old he helped to raise from the age of two.

For the past 5 years of my life, I have watched my mother and her children live off her salary as a waitress. I have paid bills for her. I attended court with her, when he said he couldn't pay child support. I've cried for my sister, for my brothers, and paid for new shoes, field trips and instrument rentals. I've cried for myself, when I felt the stress of my place as their big sister, the one who isn't there, who can show them that life doesn't have to be like this. I have watched the cycle - my mother, her sisters, my cousins, my siblings - continue.

Thankfully, my Dad's re-entry in to my life also brought my Stepmother, who has been a driving force in my life. She and her family - who took me in as their own - became my family, though we weren't related through blood. I am estranged from my maternal family, and thankful for the ones I acquired through marriage.

When I was 22, I married the Drummer in a secular ceremony. Most people said we were too young. He brought me in to his family, one that scared the daylights out of me when I first met them. Married parents, who seemed happy to be married. A full sister who married and produced planned, absolutely loved and beautiful children who know me as their Aunt. Aunts and Uncles and cousins who celebrated together, in the SAME HOUSE! These people have become some of the most important people in my life, who have taken the time to know me, understand me, and support me in ways that still come as a pleasant surprise. They individually will probably never quite know how much the small things they've done for and with me, that might seem normal, have been extraordinary to me and my life. The Drummer taught me to trust, and loved me harder when I was scared. He taught me that cycles don't have to continue - that love can exist, that family is something I can have, even if it is just the one I create. He gave me somewhere to go - someone to depend on, who will always be there even when things are bad. We've had hard times, difficult spots in our marriage, but when I think about this family we have made together, I want every person on earth to have it. I want every person, if they want to, of course, to be able to be loved and give love, to create and be a part of a family regardless of what life has dealt them.

Family, to me, is relative. I say this because my family is 1/3 blood and 2/3 marriage.

My story is only one of of which illustrates the fact that one man and one woman does not a happy family make. One man and one woman created me, an unwanted, unplanned child who changed the path of that one man and one woman's life. The gender of my parents could not change their emotional unpreparedness to raise a child, or make their marriage successful. Furthermore, my Mother's subsequent relationships, all that were between a man and a woman and produced children - were failures for the same reason.

If this one story is only one of so many, why should we believe that marriage is only for couples that consist of a man and a woman? Why should we believe that two men, or two women, who ARE prepared for parenthood, who ARE prepared for the emotional contract that is lifelong companionship and family creation, are an abomination and destructive to the institution of marriage? Doesn't it seem, in fact, that marriage and family are more about the individuals, rather than their gender or their religion or how they are related by blood?

When I began writing this post, I wanted to discuss statistics. In a country where the overall divorce rate is near 50%, a recent study found that in states where same-sex marriage is legal, the rates are lower - therefore showing stronger marriage retention in those places. Another recent study concluded that fewer Atheist marriages end in divorce. I wanted to bring up the fact that out of my close-knit group of middle-high school friends, only two had married parents, making broken heterosexual families the norm. These are just numbers, just case studies, and I know that no mind will be changed by statistics alone. Yet, considering these quick facts - doesn't it seem like "traditional marriage" means "likely to fail"?

With the voter's rejection of Maine's Marriage Equality Law last night, 31 states have now banned same-sex marriage. I could rant now for thousands of words on why this is a rampant and embarrassing blow to human rights, but I've already done that. I cried in 2006, when my home state of Wisconsin passed legislation to ban marriage equality, and have protested and fought and cried again here in California with the legalization and following passing of Proposition 8. This IS a violation of human rights and Constitutional rights, and there's no room for debate.

I've left religion out of this post until now because as an Atheist, my opinion is formed on my humanist ideals rather than any religious teaching. I do not know what the bible says about homosexuality. I do not know what the Koran says about homosexuality. I do not know the logistics of any religion's stance on homosexuality, because it doesn't matter. The United States of America was created on the separation of Church and State. As an Atheist, I am horrified when I read news stories of other Atheists or citizens taking away free worship rights from religious people. I think freedom of religion means exactly that - freedom of religion. You practice how you want, I practice how I want. It also means that if your religious belief factors in to your political opinion, it will infringe on someone else's freedom of religion. Banning Gay Marriage because it is religiously wrong to you is the same as banning marriage between two people of another religion. This is not a Christian nation. It's not a Muslim nation. It's not a Jewish nation. It is America, and all are free to practice and live without discrimination.

But now, for me, this battle has become personal. Personal because I'm sick and tired of "Save Marriage: Protect Families" movement telling me that traditional marriage and family should be saved from the infiltration of same sex couples. Traditional marriage - with it's 50% failure rate and this generation of children like me - should not be praised or called an institution. It's an embarrassment and a failure, one that needs to be saved from itself. The American Family is dying, and these people crying "Save Marriage, Save Families" are taking away the chance for GBLT people to create families, support their partners, and adopt and provide financially, physically and emotionally for children. Why would you ever think that was right? Why are we so busy being self-righteous when what we really need is to make marriage and family the norm, for all people?

Fall

2009-10-26T15:52:00.000-07:00

Every year, I miss Autumn in Wisconsin. I miss the smells, the cool, brisk air, the colors - these things do not happen here. There are oak trees that shed their leaves, and are currently doing so, and that's a nice little piece of the season.

I can't believe it's the end of October - 2009 has gone by so fast. I remember spending the last month and a half of 2008 cursing it and waiting for it to be over. Here we are, in the final months of this year.

one of those weeks

2009-10-25T14:11:00.000-07:00

This is Felix, my friend Samara's pitbull/great dane/lab mix puppy. It was a "right place, right time" type of situation.

I am just not having a good week. Most of it is self-induced. My head is fuzzy and I'm totally lacking any ambition or getup-idness to finish the myriad tasks I have on my plate. I feel overwhelmed not in that stressed way, but in the way that I simply ignore everything and put myself in to an imaginary world where I don't have to think about my real responsibilities. Certain things happening around me are leaving me wishing that I could move forward with certain life events and future situations, but then I'm unable to make a clear workflow for getting to those points, further fueling the cycle.

This, along with other symptoms and situations now indicates to me that I'm in a down cycle, in which my functions are really affected by depression, as it presents in me. The older I've gotten, and the more time I've spent working on my cycles and trying to bridge the gaps between mania and depression, I have been able to eliminate a lot of the negative thinking patterns associated with depression, where things get really bad - rebellion, anger, suicide, and the general inability to understand how the person who is depressed is not the person who is normal. I have gained a very clear and powerful sense of self worth and importance (which must be separated from self confidence) that always helps me to see that life itself is very important, and I as a person am very important. I am proud of that. However, those things haven't eliminated the depression - just made it evolve, thus sometimes seeming foreign to me when it occurs.

I don't ever want to use manic depression as an excuse. In fact, despite overwhelming evidence and fact as well as a family history, I spent much of my life denying it - and still now, when things are bad, find a reason to blame my self-aware stupidity instead of an environmental and genetic disorder. Unfortunately, a major symptom. That's probably the main reason that I've had such a difficult few years, years of self-exploration and development in which I'm forced to face the really, REALLY ugly side of this condition. It's not an excuse, because I AM in charge, even when I'm depressed. I am in charge, even when I'm manic. There's no one who can make decisions for me, or be inside my head, or make it easier for me because this is life and we're all responsible for ourselves, even if it's a tougher assignment. And that's really the choice. I can stand up and figure shit out, or I can cry and live in an unhappy prison of my brain. Really, I feel this query is no different than the one everyone on the planet is faced with. Just slightly tilted.

I was listening to Philosophy Talk this morning, and interestingly enough they were discussing the topic "how important is self identification?" Such an ideal subject for my morning. The interesting antidote on the table was Alzheimer's patients, who often have a different take on how they see their future self being treated at 40, and how their 70-year old Alzheimer's mind sees that differently. They are the same person, one argued, but the disease has incapacitated the person beyond what they are, therefore, the person they were before Alzheimer's should be trusted. Not true, said another - do we trust what the infant or toddler versions of ourselves say when we're 25? Or the 25 year old at 40? No - these are evolutions in personality, and even though we are the same person, those evolutions also change our identity and should be taken into consideration, even if they a a far cry from the normalcy of the past person.

Herein lies the true painful realities and debated realities of mental disorders. Are these perceived illnesses simply personality, different than those of most? Are mania, depression, anxiety, etc. no different than generosity, selfishness or trustworthiness? Our identity?Are these horrible symptoms caused by our brains simply being wired in a certain way, one that can be re-wired without the aid of drugs? Can we just accept, take responsibility for what we are, how we are, and change what we want to change? Should we be held responsible for doing so? When are we just a lost cause?

I struggle with this. I remember my Grandma, who was sick, though I didn't realize the full implications of her disorders until she was living her final days. I loved her. She was loyal, loving, and generous with her time and money. However, she was unstable. One day she'd come to our house with bags of stuff - toys for me, household supplies for my mom, whatever she'd felt like we needed. Once, she brought me a Beta fish and tank with supplies, for no reason other than she knew I'd love it. Soon after, my Mom would be trading shifts with my Aunts on trying to get her out of the bathtub, where she'd stay for days in a crippling depression. I'd ask how she was feeling and she'd answer, "not good. I'm just feeling very bad, not good." My mom would spend hours on the phone, discussing medication with her doctor - the giant ziplock bag of pills she was prescribed often had adverse reactions to each other, and she'd go back and forth through different brands, trying to find the right cocktail. Unfortunately, she never did.

I have so much. I have a wonderful, wonderful husband who understands me, loves me for it, and gives me the support I need. I am creative, and talented at certain things. I think I'm fairly intelligent and focused on becoming moreso. I have some great friends in many places, a couple of loving family members and fantastic in-laws. I live somewhere culturally and creatively diverse where almost anything is possible. I have a home, a car, and a bed to sleep in.

I get so entirely frustrated during times like these, when the depression, the fuzziness, the carelessness that goes along with it compromises both the things I've worked for and the ability to see what I have. I am tired of fighting, tired of struggling and tired of explaining myself.

another point of view

2009-10-24T15:49:00.000-07:00

Little things sometimes tell stories.

Peek-y

2009-10-22T13:12:00.000-07:00

I posted a new blog at my photography website, www.nissanicole.com, but for anyone who doesn't check that out, I am also posting a little peek at my last wedding of the Summer. I will post a slideshow when I'm finished, but I wanted to share this picture with you.

it's three o'clock...do you know where your chili is?

2009-10-19T02:38:00.000-07:00

There's a number of things I should watch on Tv at 3 a.m. while I'm up working and need someone talking in the background to keep me awake. I'm a pretty big fan of crappy television; Animal Planet, Discovery Channel, random childbirth shows and HGTV have always been favorites of mine. However, for the past few months I find myself spending most of my crappy tv watching time on the Food Channel.

I am on my own journey of learning to cook, so a lot of the shows are really helping me be more confident in choosing certain ingredients and trusting myself in the kitchen. I have become wholeheartedly obsessed with Iron Chef America, which is sort of what I try to do every night - pick something and then make a meal out of it :) Anyway, I know I'm sort of late to this party, but I'm totally hooked, people. Bring on Kitchen Stadium, please.

Now, that being said, I have also decided that I can only watch Food Network when I'm eating. Otherwise, I drool all over myself watching these amazing cooks create food I'd pay $40/plate for in Vegas. However, I have not been following this rule.

It's almost three, and I'm just finishing my second episode of Throwdown with Bobby Flay. The first episode was chili, and the second is Chiles. Let me tell you about this show. I watched it for the first time while in Minnesota visiting my inlaws, back before we had cable at home. Stupid Bobby Flay decided to challenge a baker whose specialty was Blondies. I had never had a blondie prior to watching this episode, but once he was done making them the irresistible dessert of the century, I spent weeks - yes, WEEKS - trying to either find blondies or make them, both of which I failed at.

Since we're on the subject of Bobby Flay, can I just say, does this man make ANYTHING that doesn't make googly eyes at me through the TV screen? What is this! The dude prepares anything from fennel to lamb chops and I'm drooling all over myself. Yum.

I intended to upload a photo of Bobby flay with said chili, or blondies (ughhhh) but I couldn't find a good one. Instead I found these fantastic shots of Bobby cooking with Barack Obama on Father's day. How amazing is this? The charisma might be too much, though. You want to believe that those two serious faces have to mean that Obama's explaining his stance on health care or sending more troops to Afghanistan. I bet, however, that Bobby's telling Obama his secret recipes and explaining why a good piece of sweet corn can lead to world peace.

Alright, back to work for me.

unlikely composition

2009-10-17T22:33:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I hate the piles of stuff on my desk. Then sometimes, they look like this.

How can I clean that up?

stay tuned

2009-10-17T00:38:00.000-07:00

the patience to be inspired

2009-10-14T13:38:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed the new digs. Something happened with the blog template I was using in which the photos disappeared from Flickr and I was getting some odd error messages, so I reverted back to using a basic template. I went with a one column template because It will look cleaner and more interesting for the photos I include in posts. All of the other stuff that used to be on the sides of the blog is below, at the bottom of this page.

I haven't blogged for awhile, so I decided to sort of dip back in by posting this lovely picture and talking a little about my inspiration and implementation as a photographer and artist, because I think that this particular image is sort of exemplary of it. Maybe I'll do similar posts once in awhile with some hints, it sounds like it might be fun.

This is a new location, one I've been looking for since I started doing portrait work. It's a little park in Crockett, California, where there's a giant, dead hill perfect for staging anything you want. The model is Nicola, one of my dearest friends who lives in Germany but spends Summers in the USA, and has come to visit me in California for the past three years. She's amazing for that. Anyway, she was totally interested in doing some fun photo shoots, and we spent most of her visit doing just that.

I did not shoot this picture in black and white. I think I saw it that way, but taking the photo is just the beginning. Now, I'm pretty firm on a couple of things when it comes to photography - one, I do not like overly posed and falsely-lit work - I do not carry lights to my jobs and I don't do a whole lot of posing (as those of you who have posed for me know). Of course, I do a little posing, but it's usually sort of suggestive rather than forceful. I believe that the best photos come from natural smiles, natural eyes, and natural poses. Some people don't agree, and that's fine - those people won't want me to photograph them.

When I took this picture of Taylor and C, I can still remember Taylor's tone of voice. I said "hold her by her waist and act as if you're going to set her down." She asked me more questions, and I didn't answer, and I was already in position to take the photo so I didn't go near her. She said "you mean like this?...um, ok...."

And the photo speaks for itself. It's that little bit of guidance that goes a long way. My shoot with Nicola was very similar. I was standing, as you can tell, really, really far away from her, at the bottom of the hill. I told her to jaunt around in that fantastic dress. She did. This was my favorite of the few I took, in which she's looking at me but moving herself in a natural way. (I think in her head she knew I wanted her to run, since I had been asking her to do more of it all week, hehe)

The second rule I have about photography is: tricks should be used to make an image what it should be...not what it isn't. I don't have crazy rules about not adjusting work, or totally adjusting work. Some things I leave very much as they come out of the camera, save for a little bit of sharpening, and color adjustment. Some images, like the one of Nicola, I process heavily.

When the photo is in color, there's so much happening...the sky, the model, the bushes and their pattern around the photo, the grass and it's random composition, and the varying color - The grass in shades of brown, the sky in shades of blue, the model's hair, dress, skin, lips. None of that is important, however, in this shot. What is important is her composition - the way she's standing, the way the line is drawn across the horizon, the size difference between the small bush on the left, the middle, bigger bush, and her body. The gradient between the dark sky at the top of the image and the lightening toward the horizon.

Not only is the photo black and white, but I used Photoshop to create heavier contrast - making the model much darker- to highlight her shape while still giving her some definition. The final image, to me, is one that makes you ask..."where is she running? Where is she? What is her story?"

All of these things combine to be the art that I strive to create. It's also the art that comes naturally to me, that I'm learning to trust in to create itself with my hands and my eyes.

I also want to help everyone out there see it, too, in their own photos. Our world is one massive composition. How you choose to frame it, light it, change it...is all up to you. There's nothing different between a person who takes snapshots and a person who takes photographs besides the way you use your eye. There are fancy tricks of course, that take time to learn, but a great photo can be taken with any camera, in any light, with any subject. It's all about feeling what's happening in the shot and allowing it to show itself in your photo.

I think the world moves too fast, sometimes. I am guilty of this - I have way too much to do and i often end up getting in trouble because I can't finish everything I want and need to. I'm an impatient Aries with ADD, and so far, the only thing that slows me down is photographing something that requires me to be patient to create.

So, my final word and request from you is: the next time you're using your camera, slow down. Stop for a minute and really look at what you're capturing. How should the image be, in the end? I think you'll be happier with the results and pleasantly surprised at what you can accomplish.

The Holidays are Coming...

2009-10-04T02:16:00.000-07:00

If you're here in California, it's time to give me a call or email so we can schedule you for your family Holiday photos.

Additionally, if you book a Holiday photo session with me between October 1 - December 5, I'll personally hand-design custom Holiday photo cards for you to send to all of your friends and family.

If you are in Minnesota and interested in working with me, it is very possible. I will be in Minneapolis the week of Thanksgiving, and may be available for a shoot or two. If that's you, please email and we'll work something out.

Looking forward to telling your story.

If I'm not here...

2009-09-30T23:38:00.000-07:00

I'm here.

Noise

2009-09-27T08:42:00.000-07:00

If a tree falls in the forest when no one is around, does it make a sound?

Answer: yes, but only the tree has heard its own death.

There's so much noise, and so little thought. So much judgment and so little compromise.
People talking for the sake of talking, keys tapping. Saying nothing.

I have found this finally exhausting.

What's the point of putting yourself there when the community you thought existed around you is really nothing but noise?

Or, maybe I'm just not good at interpreting what isn't.

It's easy to hide inside the facade of what you call yourself on the Internet. What your avatar looks like, how you phrase your sentences, what people you follow and who follows you.

In the end, you realize it's high school all over again and you're stuck wishing you had brand name jeans.

I'm too old for this. Switching off the light until I find a reason to contribute.

September 22, 2006

2009-09-22T16:43:00.001-07:00

Sneaky Peek

2009-09-21T00:22:00.000-07:00

The bride from this weekend's wedding. She was gorgeous. This is the first image I processed, just to give ya'll a little something to look at.

Please excuse the lame watermark. My Macbook died, and I haven't pulled my Photoshop brushes off yet to install on the big computer.

Ugh.

2009-09-18T12:11:00.000-07:00

I feel bad, actually, for not writing, because there are so many things going on that I'd like to write about. However, Mercury in Retrograde has totally pushed me in to craptastic month of crap. So, here's a quick update on my life.

My classes are going well, so far. I feel much less stressed about time and organization this semester, so far, due to a few changes Ive made in my attitude. It also helps that David is busy and that he is unable to lure me away from school work. I'm excited for the classes I'm taking, and trying to make the best of it.
I miss my husband. He is so busy, and I love that he's doing this, especially because I've seen him light up in ways that I have not seen for a long time, but ugh! I miss the little things. However, I'm trying to concentrate on what I'm doing and supporting him so that once this is finished, we can move on to the next step.
I have been cooking, but I haven't been posting mainly because my Macbook died last week and computer time in this house has been a stressed issue. Thankfully, I managed to jerry rig it to handle simple things, like Internet browsing. It's likely an issue with the hard drive, so it will be sent in to Apple for servicing soon. Until then, all of my photo work must be done on the big computer, and like I said...time is not on my side. (That's David's!)
Oh, did I tell you my Macbook died? And that's not the only thing. I also managed, in an idiotic, but not surprising move to participate in a fall that killed my backup camera, the lens it was wearing, and my flash (also on board). That group right there is a giant portion of my equipment, so the situation is pretty tragic. I just spent a nice chunk of money on equipment rentals for the wedding I'm shooting tomorrow, and luckily, Sara sent me her camera to use as a backup (she's AMAZING) I've got to make the decision on whether or not fixing my backup camera will be worth it. I'm very conflicted on what to do at this point.
Our household is kind of sad this first week without Suzanne. As if it needs to be said, but it's the tough thing about pet ownership. I usually nurse the wounds by bringing home a new little one, but we'll be making a different addition to our family next Summer that will likely bring our rat ownership to an end. So, no new rat babies from here on out. At least for now!
I have a couple of weddings and other shoots to share over at my photography blog, and I promise that within the next week or so, I will share them. I hope that you're visiting that site as well.
My band, Oddball Parker, will be releasing an EP the first week of November. I am very excited to share this work with you guys when it's ready.
New stuff for this fall: I will be offering family photo sessions and custom-design photo Christmas cards in one big package. More details on this very soon. Aside from photography, I'll also have a giant bunch of new jewelry items (including glass pendants) for Christmas shopping.
New stuff for next Summer: I will be booking weddings in Wisconsin/Minnesota, as well as family portraits, and senior portraits. I will elaborate on this more soon, but I'm super excited to begin planning.

Hope there's people out there still reading.

R.I.P. Suzanne

2009-09-12T12:17:00.000-07:00

Suzanne, who was the biggest, baddest chick in the family, went on to rat heaven last night after battling an upper respiratory infection for the past two days. The illness worked very vast and was unresponsive to antibiotics.

She was a character - an old meanie, but always the first to come when I called her. I miss her very much already.

Suzanne and Agatha were the first rats we brought home and today I'm reflecting on how important they were to me, how much their love helped me, and all of the good times we had together.

R.I.P, Suzanne. May your days now be filled with yogurt drops, noodles, and cozy paper piles.

radio silence

2009-09-07T22:31:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm still doing Weekly Menu. I will resume posting them mid-week.
The Drummer is back in school. His schedule is very, very difficult and the next year will be very, very hard for us. Luckily, there is an end in sight, and we fully intend to stick it out and get through it together.
I'm back in classes as well.

Unofficially, things are good. Things are bright.

I've started posting on Tumblr. If you're there as well, please follow me.

Visitor

2009-08-29T09:20:00.001-07:00

My good friend Nicola is visiting for the week, and we're keeping busy. She's great - she's come to see me now three years in a row - which is wonderful times a million.

We're going thrifting today for a couple of photo shoots.

Something wonderful happened yesterday.We swam. In the ocean. Which I haven't done since I moved here to California four years ago. I know - it's ridiculous - but the combination of friends who don't like to swim and my aversion from wearing a swimsuit have cause this long hiatus of one of my favorite activities. Thankfully, a good friend and an OK swimsuit have changed things.

Now, I think it will be hard to keep me out.

More later.

The Dr.

2009-08-24T19:08:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty excited to say that one of my good friends, who I lovingly call K-Pax (and no, I've never seen the movie) has completed her final licensing tests and is now a pharmacist. Yay!

I'm really proud of her, because she is a great person and deserves a wonderful, happy life. She works harder than most people I know, and it payed off - she finished second in her class. I know that she's got a really, really bright future.

We had a small party for her on the night of her final test. I have been jokingly promising her that I was going to bring her an Ace of Cakes cake, which obviously, was something I couldn't really do. So, I decided that I would do the next best thing - create my own crazy cake for her.

I think it turned out pretty well. I'm most proud of the cake's shape, created using my new set of hinged baking pans. They're great - instead of trying to pry out the cake after it's pulled from the oven, the pans have a hinge on the side, which, when released, pulls the form loose and drops the bottom of the pan out. I love it. I honestly can see myself baking cool cakes every week with how easy it was. David and I also had a fun time creating all the pills out of fondant.

The inside of the cake was one layer of Red Velvet, one layer of Yellow, with a whipped vanilla and white chocolate frosting sandwiched between. It tasted alright, but in the future, I'd really like to learn to make cakes from scratch.

Weekly Menu - Sunday August 23

2009-08-24T17:20:00.000-07:00

Tilapia Rigatoni with Avocado and Mango

Now, before I get started, don't give me any lip about once again eating pasta. I'll be honest in saying we eat a lot of pasta 'round these parts, because it's cheap, and we like cheap.

Anyway, on with the recipe!

What's in it:

Two flanks of tilapia, pan cooked in lemon juice, veganaise and black pepper with a hint of olive oil
Rigatoni pasta
(almost) from scratch pasta sauce, made with tomato puree, fresh garlic cloves (minced), cayenne pepper, red peppers and white onion (minced) and kosher salt
Sliced avocado
Sliced mango

This is a super, super easy recipe that I made up basically on the fly last night. I knew prior to cooking that I'd be making tilapia with pasta, but I have been watching a lot of Iron Chef and other Food Network shows recently which gave me the experimental bug. I wanted to create a couple of different tastes within the plate. This is super experimental for me. It's like colors - some match, and some go. The latter is the real challenge - with the real payoff.

The pasta sauce you get at the grocery store always tastes really sweet to me, which, is good, but for the sake of this experiment I wanted something that took on a different personality. I used kosher sea salt to give it a pop-your-tastebuds savor, cayenne pepper to create a bite at the middle of the tongue, and super fresh, super minced garlic cloves to explode at the end. I added peppers and onions for a little texture.

White fish is difficult to cook. I'm pretty impatient with the burner, so I end up putting the heat too high and ending up with unevenly cooked fish. Lately, however, we've been getting a good deal on frozen tilapia that really tastes pretty good when added with something. It's given me more time to practice my craft and thankfully, I'm starting to get the hang of it.

Aside from being touchy in the pan, white fishes are also often difficult when it comes to taste. Some whitefishes, like Catfish, have a great natural flavor, but Tilapia is NOT Catfish. I have struggled with how to get it tasting as I'd like it to. So far, my favorite method is to smother the unthawed slabs of tilapia in a bit of Veganaise, and top that with a bit of black pepper. I then fill the sautee pan with lemon juice, adding a drop of olive oil for flavor. I keep the burner down, around 6, and cover the fish while they cook. The lemon juice really helps to bring out the flavor of the fish and keep it moist instead of flaky.

Now, in order to create some compliments, I sliced an avocado and a mango. I know everyone reading this blog has had avocado, but if you haven't had mango...you should do it right now. It's the sweetest, most wonderful fruit on the planet. The sweetness of the mango and the thickness of the avocado made the tomato sauce almost to wonderful to even imagine.

My favorite part about this meal was creating my first pasta sauce. Tomato puree is so inexpensive, that it's actually a cheaper and fresher way to cover noodles. I will be trying some different things in the coming months.

Weekly Menu - Tuesday, August 18 2009

2009-08-18T20:58:00.000-07:00

Vegetarian Chili

I love chili. It's one of my favorite foods - technically. However, throughout my life I've looked for ways to get around a couple of key things that most people's chili includes - kidney beans and hamburger. I never liked kidney beans. They are horrid, almost as bad as peas. But that's another story.

Honestly, when I finally started cooking in my early 20s, I almost jumped for joy when I realized I could make chili without those things! I enjoy this recipe, which I sort of pieced together from outside sources and my own trial and error.

What's in it:

Two Red Peppers, chopped
Two Green Peppers, chopped
1/2 White Onion, chopped
1 Can Black Beans
1 Can Garbanzo Beans
1/2 Zucchini
1 can of Corn
Three whole garlic cloves, minced
1 Can diced tomatoes
1 Can tomato puree
1 1/2 tbsp chili powder
1 tbsp nutmeg
1 tbsp cayenne pepper
1 tbsp paprika
three taps basil
a few crunches of peppercorns
pinch of sea salt

The measurements for the above spices are rough. I generally work with my brain, my hands and my taster when it comes to spices in anything - I feel it out as I go. It is important with veggie chili that you get the paste nicely seasoned before you cook, though, because the absence of meat definitely leaves some room for flavor.

I cook the chili in my wonderful, wonderful slow cooker on high for about 4 hours, ideally, and then another two on low.

Now, before you complain about the monochromatic pictures, please know - I planned on topping our chili off perfectly with a dollop of Vegan Sour Cream. However, I forgot to pick it up :( Thankfully, we've got a ton of leftover chili that will serve as tomorrow's dinner, and I'll be making sure that I make a trip to the Natural Foods Market!

Weekly Menu is my attempt at creating a weekly pescatarian dinner menu on Sunday night night and sticking to it for the whole week. I'll post the basic recipe, preparation, and photos of each meal daily - please hold me accountable! I'm rallying around my many recipe books to try out new ingredients, spices and scenarios.

Weekly Menu - Monday, August 17 2009

2009-08-17T22:19:00.000-07:00

Spaghetti and Garlic Bread

This is just garden variety spaghetti, but it's my spaghetti - my combination of my favorite ingredients and what I plan on passing down as the best spaghetti ever to my children.

What's in it:

Whole Wheat Thin Spaghetti
Garlic and Olive Oil Sauce
Boca Crumblers Veggie Burger
Red Peppers, sliced
Portabella Mushrooms, chopped
Sweet Yellow Onions

The garlic bread is also my "secret" recipe, which is probably no different than anyone else makes it. I don't care, though, OK? I grew up on nothing but tv dinners and goulosh, so learning to cook like a real person is a big deal for me.

What's in it:

Fresh bakery sourdough baguette
Freshly chopped garlic cloves (2)
Olive Oil
Light Butter
A touch of salt, pepper and paprika

How do I do it?

Let me get one thing straight: I suck at cooking pasta. By that I mean, the boiling and cooking of the noodles. I cannot get it right. I think it's patience, really. I do find that adding salt to the water helps to keep the noodles less sticky AND adds a nice flavor. We eat wheat spaghetti, because it's better than the enriched white stuff, and doesn't cost much more. I've learned to really love the flavor of the wheat, but it does cook differently - less time in the water. It also tends to get stickier on its own.

While the water is boiling, I prepare the garlic bread. The sourdough loaves I use for this are really huge, so one half is enough for two people. I take 1/4 olive oil, 1 tablespoon of Smart Balance, and freshly chopped garlic cloves and heat them up until they're a nice smooth liquid. Then, I pour it over the bread - making sure that the cloves are spread out (they're powerful!). Once that's complete, I crack a few black peppercorns over the whole thing, add a little sea salt, and toss the whole thing in the oven to toast at 300 degrees.

Red peppers and sweet yellow onions are amazing. Well, I like any onions or peppers - but, for spaghetti, I like to use the yellow onions and red peppers because they have a sweetness to them that works well with the tomato sauce. I love finding the right onion and right pepper for a recipe - it's fun to enjoy the differences between them.

Anyway, for the spaghetti, I use a plain old frying pan with just a dab of vegetable oil and a lid. The veggies should be soft, not crunchy, so the steaming that happens with the lid on really gets them tasting scrumptious. Once they've gotten almost completely soft (you can tell by checking the color - darker = softer), I toss in a few chopped pieces of portabella mushroom. The mushrooms don't need much time at all to cook. And what's better than a portabella? Not much.

Once the veggies are cooked, I toss in the Boca crumblers (faux meat) to warm. The crumblers are pre-cooked, so they just need a few minutes in the pan. There are lots of different kinds of faux meat products out there, but I love Boca - it's got the best taste. After the crumblers have warmed, I add the spaghetti sauce, turn the heat down to simmer, and add garlic powder, cayenne pepper, basil and rosemary.

The bread takes about 15 minutes to toast, so if it's in the oven as I'm starting the boiling water, it is finished by the time everything else is. I usually end up getting it in too late and waiting for it, but it is worth it. Fresh garlic bread is wonderful, smells wonderful, and tastes wonderful.

As you can tell, we're garlic people. And pepper people. Bring it on.

So, there you have it - my "Secret" spaghetti and garlic bread. I'm launching Weekly Menu with an old favorite, but just wait - I'll be mixing old favorites with new and uncharted recipes as time goes on.

Weekly Menu is my attempt at creating a weekly pescatarian dinner menu on Sunday night night and sticking to it for the whole week. I'll post the basic recipe, preparation, and photos of each meal daily - please hold me accountable! I'm rallying around my many recipe books to try out new ingredients, spices and scenarios.

And now, your originally scheduled menu

2009-08-17T21:24:00.000-07:00

Things are changing around our household. The Drummer is going back to school next week to obtain his education credential, after which he'll be free to teach English, should he choose to do so. I will be back in school as well. We'll both be working full-time and trying to continue our other activities outside of work and home, so time will be minimal. Very minimal.

It's not so bad. It's only two semesters, and once those two semesters are over, many new life decisions will be made and things will change again, for the better.

Anyway, with that being said, I've decided to try a new process around here to A. save money B. eat healthier and C. spend less time worrying about what dinner will be. What's that new process, you say? Well, I'll be planning our meals for the week on Sunday night, making sure that the necessary ingredients are in stock, and sticking to the plan.

I've tried this before, and I failed. It's not that I don't want to...it's just that I failed. This time, I really want to make it work. So, I'm going to blog about it - and hope that my readership at large will hold me accountable.

Please? :D

Patience, The Way I See It

2009-08-09T12:10:00.000-07:00

There are days, like yesterday, when something simple, a song or a memory or similar reminds me of who I am, who I have become naturally, in my soul (not at large in the world). Those days, I can find a little bit of patience in the daily grind of responsibility and bills and emails and struggling. Patience in knowing that someday it won't be like this, someday - one day, I'll have paid the dues that beat me down now, finding a prize in what stability means to me. These days I feel like those dues are worth every cent, even at the price of the sweat and blood and tears it costs.

Patience, sometimes a virtue, sometimes a skill. By force, I'm working on the latter. The fear of unfruitful patience is simple and complex all at the same time; a vortex of thought and punishment that results in knowing patience only pays when you're willing to work for the prize.

Because this is the way I see things.

Wasting Time

2009-08-06T15:08:00.000-07:00

I have a lot to do. So much, in fact, that I've gotten myself tangled in one of those lack-of-organization-causes-explosion webs were I'm afraid I don't even know where to start.

So, what's the best way to get out of a web like this? As far as I can see it's doing something completely unrelated to hopefully clear out the head and take a step forward.

I figured, hey, why don't I work in a medium that I never use to create something new. Over the weekend we walked through a lot of galleries and the MOMA, which all focus on paintings,something I never really tried to do (save a few continued attempts with watercolor). I bought a canvas and pulled out my acrylic paints, brushes, and forgot about the world for the past three hours.

Here's where I am so far:

There are three things you should be able to note from the above picture of said painting in progress.

I have been drawing female faces for most of my life. It's "the" thing I draw (the only thing)
I have a favorite artist, and you can tell.
I have no f'ing idea how to paint with acrylics (note unsuccessful shading on forehead and neckline) but it sure as hell doesn't work like colored pencils.

Do not ask me about the lack of an eye. I will get there. In all my years of doodling I have still never conquered the t-scale of creating two eyes at once. I think this is because I spend an ungodly amount of time simply crafting the first eye that I get afraid of how to duplicate it. I am working on it.

However, now I'm wondering if I should keep it that way. What do you think? One eye?

Anyway, I'm enjoying myself. Hopefully, it gives me the push to get some stuff done. I need it.

****NOTE: If you've been wondering where all the photography is around here, it's because you aren't visiting my new professional website and blog, located here. Please do - I'd love to see comments on the work I share there. Please contribute, it makes me happy to hear from you! ****

blue bird

2009-07-19T20:00:00.000-07:00

Taylor gave this bird to me, and it is very special. Well, I have two - and they're both special. She's been on a search for a particular bird, a very rare and special bird that has a particular meaning to her. These are similar, but not the right color - therefore, she gave them to me (since I also love birds). For some reason, I feel special because she passed them on to me. It might mean nothing to her (except for that she's getting rid of extra birds!) but to me, they are a connection to her. We don't see each other often, and she's dear to me, so knowing how special these birds are makes me feel closer by having them near.

I have tried to photograph them a million times. Tonight, I got it right.

I'm Taking the 30 Day Challenge

2009-07-13T17:44:00.000-07:00

I'd been contemplating the purchase of a copy of Wii Fit for six months (having starting to covet it during the impossible Christmas shopping season) before learning about the newer and seemingly more popular fitness game EA Sports Active. Now, my motivation for purchasing a fitness-centric title was driven completely by my desire to find a game with an adequate workout capable of burning some calories - so I was excited to hear that EA Sports active was recieving higher ratings than Wii fit for intensity and results. Additionally, it is cheaper and doesn't require the Wii Balance Board for use. Happy with what I was reading, I went out to my local Gamestop and picked up the game.

From EA:

Designed around the standard Wii Remote/Nunchuck tethered controller configuration, EA SPORTS Active's interactive fitness program is more focused on physical activities than previous 'fitness' titles for the Wii, but still challenges you to have fun while developing a more healthy lifestyle. Separated into the three sections of workout, nutrition, lifestyle, and other activity, the user's experience begins with a pep talk from Bob Greene which quickly transitions into the beginnings of action as players set up profiles, choose a virtual personal trainer and enter baseline data like age, weight, gender, fitness goals, etc. Although the nutrition, lifestyle, and other activity sections add a holistic element facilitated by a mix of surveys and data input, building fitness through physical activity is the driving force behind EA SPORTS Active and as such the meat of the content resides in the workout section. Here players will find dozens of themed strength training and cardio workouts which can be customized as you choose and linked into circuit traning routines. These routines are introduced and monitored by your personal trainer, and allow for ongoing player motivation via real-time feedback on your workout form, an approximation of calories burned and the ability to adjust levels of exercise intensity.

Getting started with the game was really simple. The leg band fits easily to hold the nunchuck, and upon startup of the game, you're prompted to begin your 30 day challenge immediately - well, after choosing your avatar.

I did my first full workout yesterday, and my second today. I'm doing the 30 day challenge on medium/intermediate (there's easy/medium/hard). My first workout included running/walking, lunges, boxing drills, bicep curls, shoulder curls, and inline skating. Today's workout included some of yesterday's drills and a few change outs, including tennis, tougher lunges and different shoulder exercises. Now that I'm finished with my second day, I can say that I'm really loving the workout experience EA Sports Active has to offer. Not only am I hurting, but my workout was intensified from yesterday's workout (adding calories burned), and I know I can't cheat the system. The game's workout journal tracks my progress, rates my performance, and updates me on what I can expect for tomorrow's workout.

Let me say this: I hate running. With a passion. In earlier years I have been more fit than I am now, and I hated it then, too. I feel it has something to do with my treetrunk legs and the lack of speed and agility they provide. That being said, when I saw the track in front of me on the screen...I cringed with memories (you know, the smell of rubber, the pins and needle legs because Mr. Webster "doesn't think it is too cold to run on the track", and the bi-yearly stress and embarrassment that accompanied The Mile). I will do anything to get out of it. But, I tried it. And it wasn't terrible.

My only concern thusfar is the inconvenience of the nunchuck's cord. Twice, while running, I've unstrapped the leg strap when the nunchuck cord slipped under the velcro. I also managed to nearly strangle myself with the cord while doing the shoulder presses. I've been advised that there's a wireless nunchuck, but I'm hesitant to spend another $30 on Wii hardware.

Oh, and I almost forgot - the Drummer is doing the 30 Day Challenge as well! He's also on day 2 and feeling the burn. (And his avatar is cute. )

I desire a fitness regimine that will help me to get to a more comfortable weight and fitness level. I've toyed with the idea of a gym membership of and on, but I don't enjoy flashing my sweat and sharing equipment with other people. And, let's face it - the idea of preparing and then driving to the gym is less than appealing. I'm hoping that the positive experience I've had so far with EA Sports Active will push me to continue, adding workouts along the way. Getting the experience of a personal trainer and a multi-terrain workout from my living room is truly a fantastic perk of technology. Let's hope I can stick with it!

Four-legged Lonliness

2009-07-07T00:45:00.000-07:00

I'm having what I imagine most women go through when their friends and family start having children - when they are either unprepared or unable to have their own. My sadness, however, isn't caused by my lack of human spawn.

It's caused by my lack of a four-legged one.

I grew up with a dog. We always had one - from my first puppy, a rambunctious beagle named Augie, to Sassy, our cocker spaniel, and then Boogie, the cocker spaniel/labrador/golden retriever mix who lived out the most important years of my life with me. (He has since passed.) Now, in between those dogs were countless fish and parakeets - our house was a house where pets were.

If you're a person who grew up with a pet; had one around most of your life, you'll understand what I'm getting at here. A dog is like a family member. He/she must be loved, paid attention to, fed, disciplined and cared for much like any human. In return, a dog provides unrelenting, non-stop unconditional love that surrounds you and hugs tight even when all the humans in your life let you down. A flapping tongue loving eyes are always there to greet you.

(I'm writing this mostly about dogs because that's what I've had most often; cats are also similar in their contribution to life. I'm slightly jaded because I had to leave my one and only cat, an orange tabby named Legolas, behind when I moved to California. He was truly one of a kind, and I miss him so very much. )

Human relationships take work. They feel stressful and while they are rewarding generally, they are painful. This is accentuated for someone like me, a sort of outcasted socially awkward girl who'd rather work on whatever project she has than spend a night out with acquaintances and people she doesn't know.

I have a less than ideal relationship with any of my family members (aside from the Drummer), and that's something that's both environmental and locale. I don't get to exercise unconditional love, and I don't get to receive it often, either.

My heart hurts for a companion who doesn't talk, change, or need me to listen to their problems. A friend who simply needs to be fed, and requires me to move my myself out of a depressed mood to walk him to the dog park. A warm body that curls up next to me and doesn't get sick of it.

Now, you may ask, what is keeping me from adding this furry family member to our current household?

Because the landlord says so.

We love our apartment. We love our landlord. And it is currently driving me insane. I get it - rental owners want to keep any pet related damage at bay - but do they realize what kind of damage a three year old can do with a sharpie and a toy truck? Kids are far more destructive than a small breed dog. It's silly.

And well, now is not the time for the Drummer and I to be looking for another apartment. I'm trying to be positive, thinking toward the not-so-distant future when we make bigger decisions about where we live. Because the next time we move? No pets is a no go.

Pet Photos!

2009-07-06T12:39:00.000-07:00

I'm currently offering $50 sitting/processing fee (prints purchased separately at cost) for pet portraits! What does that include?

1.5 hours of shooting time, at your home or a park where you feel comfortable
Your post processed images on DVD for virtual use, and access to my proofing lab for printing your choice of sizes!

Please contact me right away if you're interested in working with me to create some lovely memories of your pet! Please pass this message on to any other pet owners in your life as well!

...and then they kicked some *#&

2009-07-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776

When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident:

That all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that, to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained; and, when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature, a right inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise; the state remaining, in the mean time, exposed to all the dangers of invasions from without and convulsions within.

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands.

He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers.

He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, without the consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the military independent of, and superior to, the civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our Constitution and unacknowledged by our laws, giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us;

For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states;

For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world;

For imposing taxes on us without our consent;

For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury;

For transporting us beyond seas, to be tried for pretended offenses;

For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these colonies;

For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our governments;

For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection and waging war against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burned our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands.

He has excited domestic insurrection among us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions.

In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms; our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have we been wanting in our attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them, from time to time, of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity; and we have conjured them, by the ties of our common kindred, to disavow these usurpations which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too, have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends.

We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name and by the authority of the good people of these colonies solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved; and that, as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.

[Signed by] JOHN HANCOCK [President]

New Hampshire
JOSIAH BARTLETT,
WM. WHIPPLE,
MATTHEW THORNTON.

Massachusetts Bay
SAML. ADAMS,
JOHN ADAMS,
ROBT. TREAT PAINE,
ELBRIDGE GERRY

Rhode Island
STEP. HOPKINS,
WILLIAM ELLERY.

Connecticut
ROGER SHERMAN,
SAM'EL HUNTINGTON,
WM. WILLIAMS,
OLIVER WOLCOTT.

New York
WM. FLOYD,
PHIL. LIVINGSTON,
FRANS. LEWIS,
LEWIS MORRIS.

New Jersey
RICHD. STOCKTON,
JNO. WITHERSPOON,
FRAS. HOPKINSON,
JOHN HART,
ABRA. CLARK.

Pennsylvania
ROBT. MORRIS
BENJAMIN RUSH,
BENJA. FRANKLIN,
JOHN MORTON,
GEO. CLYMER,
JAS. SMITH,
GEO. TAYLOR,
JAMES WILSON,
GEO. ROSS.

Delaware
CAESAR RODNEY,
GEO. READ,
THO. M'KEAN.

Maryland
SAMUEL CHASE,
WM. PACA,
THOS. STONE,
CHARLES CARROLL of Carrollton.

Virginia
GEORGE WYTHE,
RICHARD HENRY LEE,
TH. JEFFERSON,
BENJA. HARRISON,
THS. NELSON, JR.,
FRANCIS LIGHTFOOT LEE,
CARTER BRAXTON.

North Carolina
WM. HOOPER,
JOSEPH HEWES,
JOHN PENN.

South Carolina
EDWARD RUTLEDGE,
THOS. HAYWARD, JUNR.,
THOMAS LYNCH, JUNR.,
ARTHUR MIDDLETON.

Georgia
BUTTON GWINNETT,
LYMAN HALL,
GEO. WALTON.

Finally!

2009-07-01T03:06:00.000-07:00

I'm so happy to FINALLY show you all my new website! Getting it together was a total pain (more on that later) but I've got it to a point now where I want to show you all.

New logo, new colors, and new blog! Check it out and please let me know what you think!

Nissa's Website

Changes

2009-06-28T13:19:00.000-07:00

Hi lovely blog readers! I know it has been awhile since I've posted, but exciting things have been going on behind the scenes. I'll be posting some updates soon - but not before this blog goes through an overhaul over the next week. Soon, you'll see a new and improved Ramblings, as I get ready to begin hosting ads for Blogher! I'm very excited, and want to make sure things are perfect.

Here's me with Chip! I got to hang out with him on Friday night here in Oakland. Great times!

Atheism Doesn't Mean Anarchy

2009-06-18T15:15:00.000-07:00

What do you do, when you're faced with someone who you don't know, and will likely never see again, who attacks your way of living and forces you to engage in apologetics? While fixing your kitchen sink?

I'm never one to miss a political debate. Hell, I'll usually even throw my two sense in on religion. I've never believed that it's important to keep politics and religion out of the public forum (why, on earth would you do that!). After today, however, I've been silenced.

The plumber hired to fix our kitchen sink decided after a bit of listening to my landlord and I's conversation about the state's budget and Proposition 8 to throw in his two cents about constitutional freedoms, our lying government, the misinformed public and - - wait for it -- choice.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love arguing over these things. Love it. I love it so much, in fact, that my first career goal back in high school was to be a political lawyer. I enjoy hearing other points of view on subjects that I feel strongly about, in order to evolve my opinion. I can be stubborn, but I really, really try to be open minded and allow others to enjoy their freedoms.

What I don't like? Listening to someone who has absolutely no room for another opinion. A guy who has argued, obviously, with so many people before me that he knows exactly what to say and how loud to say it. This person who created an anxious room rather than an open forum.

There's tons of political banter I do not engage in. Economics, for one - is not something I know anything about. Do I want my taxes used efficiently and for things I agree with? Yes. Do I know how to make that happen? Hell no. Does that mean I don't care? Of course not! I just simply cannot comment on things that I don't feel confident in discussing.

However, if you come in to my space to attack social, constitutional and ethical issues with a blind eye and your fists balled - I'll usually take that battle. I'll do it 'till I'm blue in the face.

Today, however, this guy caught me off guard with something I've heard others relay but never been faced with myself. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that anyone who is Atheist has no gauge for good and bad; no way to know how to treat others how they'd like to be treated. He said that because Jesus had taught to love others and turn the other cheek, an Atheist couldn't possibly subscribe to that ideology without believing. And when he said it, I dropped. I had nothing. I realized that he'd opened a whole new door for me - one I hadn't entered myself, where extremism has no ability to see the other side.

So I stopped. It was hard, but I stopped. And I thought, for the rest of the day. Why would someone believe that an Atheist doesn't believe in good and bad? Doesn't understand humanity? This guy kept going, after I stopped, once he knew that my landlord and I were both Atheists. He wasn't mean, but simply stuck. An Atheist would have no reason to try and make a marriage work before divorce. An Atheist would have no problem having an abortion or allowing one. An Atheist wouldn't see the problem with Gay marriage and the degradation of the American family.

Punch, kick, slap. Extremist 1, Nissa, 0.

In hindsight, I'm glad I shut up. This guy wasn't going to listen, even if I had something to say. Yet for the remainder of the day, I've been deep in thought over this, my first contact with an extremist. How do I react to this?

And now I understand what it is like.

Atheist doesn't mean anarchy. We believe in humanity, because we're neighbors, common citizens of this planet. We believe in the equal treatment of all - to treat others as we want to be treated.

Are those the teachings of Jesus? Yes. And if I knew you better, I'd explain that Jesus was a great man, who taught great things. However, those things were being taught long before Jesus, in civilizations that the original Christians destroyed.

We also believe that our hands move because we make them; our minds create because we learn, work, and imagine. We believe life should be lived here, on earth, to its fullest - with love and peace. Like Christianity, there are extremists - who want to deny the beliefs of others until they are unable to practice their faith - but like Christianity, those are the minority.

Undoubtedly, I'll meet "this person" again, some day in the future. Will I be better prepared to handle the discussion? Or, will this issue be something that, after this, I lay to rest? I can't - and don't want to - change the mind of even the most extreme on the other side. It makes me horribly sad to think that people would have those ideas of Atheists -but I can't explain it to them in a way they'll understand. Is that why I talk about it? I'm actually not sure. Was I trying to convince others that I was right? Or was I trying to convince myself?

Someone once said to me, "if I have to explain it, you won't understand." Right, right, not for everything.

But? Yes.

Top Ten

2009-06-16T00:27:00.000-07:00

Ya'll know I'm a giant The Office fan, and well, I'm also a huge geek for the fan site Office Tally.
I love reading Office spoilers and getting the scoop on what's happening in Office world. Give me a break. It's the only TV show I get all kinds of crazy over.

Anyway, over at Office Tally, they've posted Greg Daniel's list of his Top Ten Favorite Office Episodes. I decided to follow suit with my list as shown below.

Nissa's Top Ten Favorite Episodes of The Office

1o. Broke
9. Take your Daughter to Work Day
8. Business School
7. The Injury
6. Dinner Party
5. The Job
4. Booze Cruise
3. Casino Night
2. The Dundees
1. Traveling Salesmen/The Return

(Wanna play? Add yours in the comments!)

Home

2009-06-09T01:16:00.000-07:00

Tonight, our plane was involved in a traffic jam of other planes trying to land in San Francisco. Since we weren't cleared to land, our pilot did some time-wasting in the fashion of circles around the Bay Area as we waited to decent.

I was in the window seat, and I watched us turn from the upper East Bay toward the ocean. From above, the moment where the ocean stopped and the peninsula began was drawn by a line of clouds so fluffy they appeared as thick, gray cotton. I imagined myself jumping in to them, sinking in deep and holding fistfuls in my hands. As we rounded the city, we came in over the ocean, and at a certain point we were just above the middle of the peninsula where if you stare and imagine, you can see the thumb of California reaching around the Bay, and draw out the rest of the state slowly stretching from either side. Below, the interstates look like long lines of light. You can't make out exactly what each light is, but if you know this place, you know where you are.

Home is such a conditional word. When I leave California, I say I'm going home. When I leave Wisconsin, I say I'm going home. This apartment is my home - where I live, with my husband, our rats, our things - but, really, I have no idea where home is. Some people go home, to their parent's house, where their rooms are still their rooms, and their things from school still adorn walls and line closets. Some people go home to their husbands/wives/children, or their roomates, and sometimes, any of those people feel like their home.

When I was in high school, I didn't live with my Mom or Dad. I lived in between. I moved out of my Mom's house, where I'd lived forever, when I was 15 because of an abusive situation that I needed to be away from. My Dad lived 10 minutes away, in Elroy, where I always had a room. I had a 1992 Ford Escort, in teal, that held most of my important stuff, and from there, I conducted my life. I stayed at one parent's or the other, or with friends. My car was mine, and it was home. It wasn't that I didn't feel comfortable with my Dad, but his life wasn't built with a kid around all the time, especially a teenager. I always felt as though I was staying with them - biding time.

I used to think, man, it would be great to have a home. Where I felt comfortable to be, where I wanted to return to, and where I had all of my stuff organized and optimized for life. Right now, after being in Wisconsin for a week, I wonder if I'll ever know what home means, or be able to define it for myself.

When we moved to this apartment, I spent a lot of time and money making it ours. We painted, bought new (used) furniture and covered the walls and shelves in our little things. This is something I'd never done before. I wanted to feel like it was mine, like I built it. But sometimes, it feels like another place I'm just waiting in. Waiting for a home that will be mine.

On our first day in Minnesota, we traveled a few miles down the road from Dave's parents to a graduation party at his aunt's house. It was beautiful most of the day, but as we were about to leave, a thunderstorm blew in. I sat on the steps of their house, feeling the goosebumps rise on my skin as the cold front met us. I closed my eyes and remembered the smell of rain in the distance. And on the way home, there was this.

That, above, does not happen here in California, here in the Bay Area.

In Wisconsin, there are no mountains, and you can watch the storms roll in. The green tree groves that shine in glittering bold colors in the sunshine deepen and brood in under gray blue skies. Native Californians and even some transplants tell me, "I hate when it rains. I love the constant 70 degree days". But, I don't. When I'm here, and not there, I pine for the tension between the blue and red on the weather map. The suspense of weather. The stories told in fields of flat tree, tree, nothing.

Time stands still when we spend more than a weekend back home. This apartment in California sits vacant, collecting mail, paid for on its little slab of cement with no trees. My job, my education, my desires - all live here, in a swirling mass of responsibility that like anyone else, I love one day and regret the next. There, I am consumed by tree, tree, nothing. The comfort of a midwestern accent. The familiar smell of my Mom's living room. I am surrounded by family, both of blood and of marriage, who know me and respect me for the person I am. I am reunited with friends, most of which I have known since childhood, who could point me out in the darkness by the sound of my footsteps. I laugh, I remember, and I breathe deeply without worrying about what kind of facade I have to wear. I feel love.

Here, I rush, work and bleed all over the things to which I aspire; but love is lost between skyscrapers and murky bay water. I should feel lucky - my best friend and another very close friend are here, transplanted, and make my life better in so many ways. But in return, I have met tons of people, girls, boys, old, young, who see me as just another tadpole in the sea. We don't connect on true things - deep things, that come naturally to those who know me. I'm always holding my breath. Maybe everyone else is, too.

I love getting a phone call or an email just to say hello. Or maybe, "how are you?". But here, in a metro of over three million people, all I've mostly found people who just don't click with this Aries.

The days following a visit to Wisconsin are lonely, by default. I say goodbye, and my younger brothers go to first grade. My Dad turns 50. My sister becomes a woman.

As I watched the scenery unfold below me from the plane tonight, I thought about home. My affection for the splendor I was watching, the things waiting for me down there, but my sadness for the things I'd left behind. I thought about all the changes on the horizon for so many people I love. I know its likely that I wasn't the only person on that Northwest flight over San Francisco doing the same thing. I thought about the life I've chosen - and am just defining - and what inevitably I have to pay.

I thought about long nights at Country Kitchen and the dreams that were more than dreams. And, I tried to imagine what home should be - what I want it to be. Behind closed eyes, I saw me, my suitcase and my camera underneath a thunderstorm. And David, even though sometimes not physically.

Focus.

I Have a Story

2009-05-28T14:19:00.000-07:00

I have a story - one that I keep mainly a secret for now, that I hope to someday share. I've exposed it very little - only when I felt it was necessary to continue living - to a few people who were at the right place and the right time. Some might see this story as personal and therefore able to be kept secret forever, never meeting the light of scrutiny and love it may garner. I see it as something that lives inside of me, pressing buttons and writing speeches that are never delivered.

Some days, like today, something happens to remind me of this story, and I feel compelled to climb on to the nearest roof and scream it, from beginning to end; but I know those times and this time are not the right time to share. And furthermore, I beat myself up over "not the right time", because I know that in my heart, there is no right or wrong time. My story has an agenda - a cause- and every day it stays a locked in that secret place, I feel I'm missing a battle that needs it - that needs me.

There is a story that happened, that exists in history, and leaves me with days like today when I wonder, when will I be able to tell this story? When will I feel comfortable to take what will inevitably be given in return?

Music and Fog

2009-05-24T09:28:00.000-07:00

A month or so ago, I agreed to shoot some promotional photos for Wee the Band, who are a fun and sultry vocal pop band from San Francisco. Now, when I heard their music, I thought of a dark bar with a red glow; but their time constraints allowed only for a quick outdoors location. We settled on Treasure Island, which has a magnificent view of the city - but of course, it's been foggy and cold here (San Francisco in the summer!) so the plan was modified somewhat.

Beginner's tip #3289237 - a band with six members is not as easy to shoot as a band with 3.
Especially when said band is freezing.

I really enjoyed meeting Wee the Band and had a great time getting their shots. I think they're fine, but I look forward to doing an indoor shoot sometime soon!

The Cerrito Theater - I Won't Write a Eulogy

2009-05-21T12:40:00.000-07:00

Imagine: a movie theater within walking distance from home, where the concession stand bursts with home made brownies, veggie burgers and pints of local beer. The 1930s late-Art Deco structure has been renovated to its original grandeur; the cozy individual theaters split evenly between seats and giant, plush couches. There's no Digital Dolby sound, or Imax-sized screens, but they play a cartoon before the feature - - only a cartoon; no loud, frenetic previews. Here, you might find the new Paul Rudd comedy I Love You Man, or the mega blockbuster The Dark Night, and if you're lucky, you'll make it to a Sunday showing of a classic; Rear Window, Indiana Jones, or the 1930s version of War of the Worlds. The best part? Admission for two = $14. Unless it's Wednesday, that is - because that's two-for-one night.

Sounds amazing, right?

That place? It existed, here.

For this little city, locked between the violence and struggle of Richmond and the indie fabulous Berkeley, lost within high cost of so much in the Bay Area, the Cerrito Speakeasy was a sanctuary. It was a symbol of what's important; community, family, and great entertainment all wrapped up in one historical package. A place where I always felt welcome among friends.

The woman in white is, in fact, staring shockingly at the letters on the marquee. When she saw me snapping photos, she asked, "what happened"? I told her about the situation that had lead to the closing of the Cerrito Theater. As I finished, she clutched her belly, which barely formed a tiny baby bump, and said, "I was so excited to bring her to Baby Brigade".

As we chatted, two middle-aged men walked up to the ticket window and peeked in the doorway. One turned to me and said, "Are they closed for the day?" She and I exchanged a glance. "No, it's an indefinite thing" I replied. The man turned to his friend with wide eyes. "What happened!" the other asked.

So, what happened? Of course, money; like the Parkway that fell before it. This story, however, is frustratingly sad, between the Fischer family (who opened and ran the theater) and the city of El Cerrito who seem unwilling to compromise. That being said, the unfortunate truth is that neither party is fully accountable for the desperate times The Cerrito has faced.

Built in 1937 and operated until the early 60s, the Cerrito went dark for over 40 years and was used as a furniture warehouse. In 2001, the theater became available for sale, and a group of citizens called Friends of the Cerrito Theater organized to save the building and turn it back in to a movie theater. The city of El Cerrito purchased the building, and hired the Fisher family (of Speakeasy Theaters) to run the business. Over the next few years, the Fischers (along with many donors and the Friends of the Cerrito Theater) renovated the building and in 2006, the doors were opened once again.

Last month, the Fischers were forced to close their flagship theater, the Parkway, in downtown Oakland because of financial issues. While it was hoped that the closing would bring business to the Cerrito (and it did), a matter of only weeks passed before the same fate befell the second theater. If you're interested in reading the details, you find them here.

With the Fischers' lease being terminated, the website for the Friends of the Cerrito Theater has blogged that they are in full support of working to find a new operator for the establishment as quickly as possible. Sadly, in this economy, there will be nothing 'quick' about this situation. I sincerely hope that the City Council, who have been the acting party, understand what they've lost when the corner of Central and San Pablo Avenue is dark.

2009-05-21T00:46:00.000-07:00

Well, I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah.
Hallelujah -
Hallelujah.

Well, your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah.
Hallelujah -
Hallelujah.

Baby I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
You know, I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah.
Hallelujah -
Hallelujah.

Well there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me, do you?
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah.
Hallelujah -
Hallelujah.

Maybe there is a god above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah.
Hallelujah -
Hallelujah.

(from somewhere in between here and there, it creeps up when you least expect it, and reminds you of what it really means. )

Someday I'l Blog Again...

2009-05-19T21:29:00.000-07:00

...really, I will.

Last weekend, I shot engagement photos for an old work friend and her fiancee, who are marrying in New York this summer. I won't be shooting her wedding, but I had a good time following these two around for a bit.

They're gamers - and hardcore ones, at that - so it was fun to incorporate a little of their lifestyle into their photos.

Back Home

2009-05-11T15:58:00.000-07:00

Here's one image from the wedding I shot this weekend in Wisconsin. It was a whirlwind - I'm back now and working to complete the last final for this semester. Tomorrow, I'll sleep all day...and then get back to work!

April Showers bring May

2009-05-07T18:07:00.000-07:00

For the five of you who read the blog, sorry I haven't updated much. Ya'll know I'm doing something or another and well, blogging ends up at the bottom of the to-do list.

Aside from that, I'm over the top obsessed with microblogging via twitter,(and YES, I WAS THERE BEFORE OPRAH!) so if you follow me there, you'll get more Nissa in real time than you ever needed.

When I logged in to blogger this evening I noticed that the mobile blogging has gone out of beta and is now available for all carriers, so I'm going to try updating from my Blackberry to see how that works. Might be a fun alternative to web blogging! I see you can also upload pictures to the blog.

Last Friday, I put up an exhibit of 4 photos at the pet store. We had a small opening reception, which was fun. I have since sold two out of the four, and hope to sell one more (one is of Margot, and I don't intend to sell it, but have gotten the most complements on that one). It was a bit nerve wracking leading up to the exhibit. Something new I haven't done before. But, it turned out fine in the end, and now I'm prepared to do it again.

I'm traveling to Wisconsin this weekend to photograph the wedding of a family friend. I am very excited, not only for the wedding, but for a weekend back home. I will be spending Friday with my wonderful friend Sara, who also met me in Vegas last October for a fun getaway. Sunday, Mother's Day, my Dad is having a little cookout party. The weather looks to be in the late 60s - 70s, with a chance of some rain. I would LOVE to see a thunderstorm, but it doesn't look promising. Here's hoping the weather will stick it out for the wedding.

There's a lot of hot topics i'd like to write about but sitting down to formulate my opinion in sentences seems like a stretch right now. Maybe while I'm on the plane.

Anything on your mind? Leave me a comment.

How Two Girls Who've Never Made a 3D Whale Cake Succeed, in 7 Steps

2009-05-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

Baby C's One Year

2009-04-21T18:50:00.000-07:00

My good friend Taylor asked me to take her daughter, baby C out to the ocean for her one year photos.

I can't believe this little lady is about to turn one. She means a lot to me, because I've been in her life since conception. I hired Taylor as an intern, and then as a full time writer at the company we both worked for, and she and I shared a workstation. I will always remember the day her Mama told me, after a few days of missed work due to illness, that she'd taken a positive pregnancy test. At the time, the two of us hadn't become friends outside of work yet, but in the months to come, through morning sickness, a mystery adhesion, pregnancy emotions, my fantastic sister in law's prenatal advice, and a little, kicking baby C, we ended up in a wonderful friendship.

Her little life is very important to me, and I'm absolutely honored that I've been able to watch her grow this first year. I am even more honored to have been able to document her first year - the beauty as I see it - through photographs.

Happy birthday, C.

To an Old Friend

2009-04-08T08:47:00.000-07:00

(NOTE: I debated on whether to post this here, but have decided to do it sans any names. It is not well written and true to the theme of "ramblings".Please read with caution. )

Dear old friend,

I saw a picture of you today. You and her. Let me start by saying I haven't removed you from my Facebook friends list yet, and while I generally do not go to your profile (nor am I generally on Facebook ever - you know me!), today I was compelled to do so. I read lots of messages others have left you. And I saw the picture.

Someone else had posted it, in memory of you. Of both of you. And I stared at it for something like five minutes, examining every little part of it until the lines and colors of your faces didn't make sense anymore. You looked so happy. Her arms wrapped around you; your genuine smile (which wasn't something you often did). Youth and love.

Now, I'm not naive; I'm a big girl who knows that sometimes, love isn't enough. And sometimes, love doesn't last. I realize the implications of life. So by no means am I surprised that something went wrong. Let's get that straight.

When it happened, I have to be honest - I deleted the photos of your wedding. They aren't backed up anywhere. They are gone. Every time I opened iPhoto, I felt nauseous. I also threw away the wedding books that I lent the two of you to choose your ceremony procedures. These things felt evil, packed with negative energy. I made that speech. I signed that paper. I made it so. How could that be forgiven? How could I not be partially to blame for your unhappiness? What didn't I say, or do?

I'll never forget your Facebook status a few days before. It said, "At peace". You already knew.

Guilt. I have never felt so guilty in my life. I begged anyone listening for redemption; stumbling through whatever religious idealism still resides in my head. I read through Native American, Bhuddism and Pagan ritual. In the end, none of it seemed more helpful than a long shower with steel wool - because in the end, I had made the decision and I had to deal with the consequences of that choice - just like you.

You were happy. Both of you. I saw it in your faces that day, and in that picture. I made a choice to give you what someone only a year before had given me - a life contract with the person you loved. Coming off the heels of my own wedding I felt euphoric about marriage - how wonderful it was, how much better life is when there's someone at your side. I wanted to share that feeling. And maybe, I missed something I should have seen. Maybe my rose-colored glasses were a bit too pink. Mental illness often hides well under the guise of confidence. But, I believed in love. And today, having seen that photo of the two of you so long ago - I stand by that.

I've tried to be angry at you, and I think I've gone through spells where I was, for a moment. I'm stopped short of it because it'd be a hypocrite for calling you out for your extreme fucking selfishness. There's too much I can't answer for that's too similar. And that's my cross to bear.

I'm left with this. Is it wrong to say your selfish, ridiculous choice changed my life? I suppose not, because anyone who is faced with this will ultimately never be the same. When it happened I was at the peak of the worst period of my life; a disgusting version of myself whom I hated. Friend - our problems, our sadness, our trials - are not so different. Actually, they are so very similar. These are the strains of living on this earth, especially for people like us who are such emotional, creative souls. I wish I could have told you that, though I doubt it would have mattered in the long run. I think you were ill-prepared. Because even at my very worst - and believe me, I am not out of that skin - I know that living, loving, and breathing fresh air is worth every trial and tear. I don't know how I know that. But I will fight for it, because you have showed me that it is not inherent in everyone. You couldn't see that her leaving was simply another scar to bear. One that ultimately, was right; this world is a very big place. You crossed that line that every person who has struggled with depressive disease walks. You let your mistakes and weaknesses rule your life. You let your mistakes and your weaknesses kill you, and her. And now your mistakes and weaknesses are your legacy.

I will not let that happen to me.

I have watched you villified by ignorant, belligerent assholes who hide behind the Internet. I've seen you called things that haunt me to this day. I struggled with the need to stand up for you to trolling lunatics who waste their time making ridiculous comments on news stories - judging your life by a few lines of press. And deep inside I know that three months ago, reading those same stories, I probably would have villified you, too. I would have called you a cowardly murderer.

I will never judge like that again. Never.

We live our lives treading water. Death is inevitable; it's always the final act of life. We're given so few years to experience everything there is to see and do; to love others and receive the love of our family and friends. These are things that we know in our heads from the day we learn that death is inevitable but do we really understand it? How fragile we are? How easy it is to lose it? Before this, I didn't understand the wake effect caused by suicide and murder. I didn't realize how it touches literally every person you ever met. Everyone. And in that, lies such an irony.

Friend, I don't believe in life after death. It's difficult to explain, because I do believe that lost souls leave imprints of energy and can interact with those who are alive. But I don't believe that when you die, you go to heaven or hell as religion tells. I suppose heaven , to me, is the quiet rest of a soul that walks no more. I don't believe you're "looking down" on anyone. I don't even know if you're at peace. I struggle with my inability to believe in heaven or hell, because it too makes me unable to believe that even writing this post matters not. Maybe that's why I feel this way. Maybe you've renewed in me the understanding that what happens after death is not in my control, nor do I or anyone around me know what lies in store for me. All we can control are the years, the very limited amount we have on this earth as walking, breathing living beings. These years cannot be wasted or lived in vain because of mistakes, weaknesss, or temporary ills - but experienced as if everything is life. Listening to the Cure, and experiencing the high of a beautiful bass line. Creating art that touches others. Standing next to Redwoods five times our age and smelling the sweet scent of the wilderness. Taking pictures like that one of the two of you.

Was it worth it?

Thinking of you,
An old friend

***UPDATE*** Thanks for comments left. It should be said that much of this letter is closure, and I reached this point awhile ago, but couldn't write about it then. I finally could when I saw that picture.

Crystal and Juan

2009-04-07T10:11:00.000-07:00

I had a lovely time on Saturday with Crystal and Juan, who are expecting their baby in August.
Crystal wanted to have updated photos of the couple and her new body at the Mountain View Cemetery, and so it was a perfect match: I love shooting there!

April 6th, 2009

2009-04-06T00:30:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am. 25. I made it a quarter-century.
No longer early twenties. Mid twenties.

I walked in to this tombstone last weekend while I was shooting at the cemetery. A curious find, since the occupant and I shared the same birthday. He lived to be 57. Almost twice my age.

Happy birthday, me.
Let's hope I can get my head out of the morbid stuff.

Quick

2009-04-01T10:28:00.000-07:00

David and I took a late morning/early afternoon hike at Wildcat Canyon yesterday. We did the Canyon Gorge trail, which goes alongside a small stream and between small redwood groves. The stream is home to small trout and newts, which are both protected in California.

Not a great picture, but a great picture of David.

Honestly, I'm getting tired of cement, smog and graffiti. I don't know if it's just a need for a vacation or me realizing that I love the city but can't do it forever. Sometimes it just seems like the constant film over everything and lack of clean air is just bad energy. I wonder how people live their whole life like that. I suppose they don't know any different, If they've never lived anywhere else. But I'm finding it tiring.

God 2, Nissa 0

2009-03-26T06:42:00.000-07:00

Olive died last night.

She was most likely sick since we've had her, and we were just unable to tell. That happens, especially since she was so young.

She was a great little rat while she was with us, and I'm very sad to lose her.

Olive

2009-03-25T13:32:00.000-07:00

Spring Break Beach Day

2009-03-17T10:21:00.000-07:00

While my schedule has been much more forgiving this semester, I was still pretty excited to find Spring Break waiting patiently for me after my midterm projects were handed in. With everything happening around here, I'm happy to make this week a little less hectic and a little more about doing things I've been meaning to.

I had been planning to take a couple of day trips during this week while David is also off work. Yesterday, we decided to drive down Hwy. 1 and the Pacific Coast without any real destination in mind. Those, my friends, are my favorite trips.

The minute our car left San Francisco County, I felt lighter. The sweet smell of eucalyptus trees and salty air can clear a heavy head fast. On 1, there's a quiet, scenic beach roughly every 2 miles. Stopped at the Pescadero State Beach beyond Half Moon Bay to take some photographs and bask in the sun for awhile.

After leaving the beach, we came across the Point Pigeon Lighthouse, which was beautiful wrapped in the afternoon fog.

Agatha's Death, with a Happy Ending

2009-03-14T18:15:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a few days since I last posted and the last post was just a photo. I haven't really been up for talking about or writing about Agatha's death. Normally, writing helps me to understand my emotions about a particular experience but with this, I just don't want to talk that much about it. I think I'm just exhausted. Taking care of sick rat + death of rat + sadness + midterm projects = no sleep and bad mood.

The long and short of it is that she got deathly sick Friday. I took her to the vet Saturday to find out she had pneumonia. He gave me a syringe to feed her and 5 days worth of antibiotics to be injected but he didn't know if she'd live. Dave and I nursed her back to moving around and eating when she sadly and very tragically had an accident in which she became stuck somewhere she wouldn't have usually been stuck, and it killed her. Her body was weak and the worst possible thing happened.

Dave feeding Agatha sugar water to help her
build strength.

She'd been laying with me or Dave for two days straight, wrapped up in a blanket and eating out of a syringe because she didn't have the strength to lift her head. Losing her to a freak accident was so f'ng ridiculous. I'm really angry that it happened but glad that she was close to me before it - that we had those days of bonding like we hadn't had before. Her little body was usually to busy to stay in my hands for too long, but while she healed in the warm blanket, I got to spend more time enjoying her smallest features.

Saying goodbye has been difficult on both of us as well as Suzanne and Margot. We'll never forget Agatha, she was a one in a million rat. I feel lucky to have had her with us for even the short time we did. I miss her so much. She was always the first to the cage in the morning, and the only one who let me pet her neck and belly before giving me kisses. :( Sad, very sad.

After everything, I decided to begin looking for a baby rat not to replace Agatha, but to spend time and attention on to keep from feeling sad. I was lucky to meet the perfect little lady this week, and she's now awaiting a name and getting used to her new home. She's so tiny, that her entire body fits in my palm.

It's such a painful experience to watch a pet die. But the benefits outweigh the negative a million times over, and I'm excited to bring this new baby in to our family. I think Agatha would approve.

R.I.P.

2009-03-09T10:52:00.000-07:00

Agatha
2.1.08 - 3.9.09

The most wonderful little person without words who I've ever known.
She is loved tremendously and missed furiously.

Sleep well, little one. We will never forget you.

Ho Hum and a Couple of Rats

2009-03-03T23:25:00.000-08:00

I hate January, February, March and the part of April that comes after my birthday. There's something about post-Christmas America that is horribly dull and depressing. No one has money, the weather is bad, and people are stuck between the festivities of the holiday season and when Summer begins.

That being said, I'm glad it's March. This Spring/Summer is ramping up to be a fun/productive one for me, so I'm basically counting the days.

Last week, I took a new job as a photographer's assistant for a local wedding photog. It's a great opportunity for many reasons, a few which are obvious and a few which are just possibilities that I don't want to share quite yet. But she's great, and I'm excited to work with her. Additionally, I have three of my own weddings booked for the Summer months.

My brother is graduating from high school on June 7th, and we're throwing a huge bash for him. I will return to my high school for the first time since graduating myself!

In other news, I'm turning 25 this year. A quarter century. *sigh* It brings me deep sorrow, as so many things I wanted to accomplish before this great age still remain only pipe dreams. It's more helpful to reflect on the things I have accomplished, I know; but why is it that each year seems to pass more quickly and with it, so many things seem to fall out of the realm of possibility? I wish I'd made better decisions, I wish I'd have known then what I know now. Obviously that's impossible, but the number 25 is like a screetching siren that warns me time is running out.

On that depressing note, I hope to leave you with some happy photos.

Margot spent a few days in solitary confinement because she had developed some respiratory issues including discharge from her eyes. Generally speaking, symptoms like that are scary, because rats suffer from respiratory diseases chronically. Being as though Margot is hairless, however, her lack of well, fur, eyelashes and adequate whiskers makes for more sensitive skin, eyes and nose. We had been letting them chew up a cardboard tube, and I wondered if it hadn't irritated her. Thankfully, after placing Margot in a single cage and cleaning her eyes out, the discharge didn't return. So I imagine it was the cardboard.

It was interesting to see the rats mood while separated. Margot was much more gentile and caring while alone. She even spent 20 minutes sitting with me on my lap! Agatha and Suzanne, who stayed in the big cage, didn't fight or inflict violence in the cage once.

Agatha is a little mother. She cleans everyone from head to toe, and is the nest-maker of the trio. She's sensitive, caring and delicate. And she loves cleaning Dave's facial hair. It is adorable to watch her parse the coarse facial hairs with her little hands.

I will Conquer Part 32424242 - New Flash

2009-03-01T00:42:00.000-08:00

David's band Borstal Holiday and our friend Kristy's band, Deeper, played a show last night at the Retox in San Francisco. It was my first time using the pro flash to photograph live music - and I was really, REALLY happy with how much easier it was - and how fantastic the photos came out.

I like using natural light whenever possible - until two weeks ago when I purchased my new flash, I never used the flash on my camera. It's horrible. All point and shoot flashes are horrible. So I have labored over aperture setting and ISO to get non-blurry, low light live music photos. My new f2.8 lens was a big help, but after using the new flash last night, I am a transformed woman.

The major difference between a point and shoot (or pop-up flash on an SLR like mine) is both the type of light and light metering as well as the angle and size of the flash. The 430ex is poseable in different angles, allowing for light to be bounced off the ceiling or other fixture rather than pointed directly at the subject. The photos you'll see below were done with the flash bounced off the ceiling. It creates a great, diffused light that simply awakens the colors and shoos the shadows on the subject - leaving the rest of the stage naturally lit.

N and V's Wedding

2009-03-01T00:25:00.000-08:00

On Feb. 13th, (which just so happened to be a Friday), I shot my first wedding. It was the perfect first time out for me, considering that the wedding was very small, and took place at the Oakland Courthouse. I had a chance to figure out what I was doing while still having enough time to get all of the shots I wanted and needed. It was a great time, and while I learned a lot (never let the bride and groom leave without you in the same car!) and definitely had some frustrating issues during the process, I really loved it. The couple were beautiful and together with their family created a loving and very special ceremony and celebration!

Some Things Take Time

2009-02-22T21:11:00.000-08:00

I used to work at Hot Topic. While I lived in Madison, I took a part time job at the store on the West Side, mainly because I enjoyed the environment, and there was a 40% discount for employees (which somewhat compensated for the $5.25 I made an hour). At the time, I lived in about two pairs of pants and three hundred band t-shirts that I cut to high heaven (and yes, these shirts still show up in my wardrobe here and there) so 40% of those band t-shirts was 75% of my wardrobe. Oh, and I forgot; I got tickets to any concert I wanted for free.

As an employee, I had three responsibilities: fold t-shirts, sell t-shirts, and detract shoplifters. Now in between doing those things, I met a lot of cute guys and discovered a lot of music. One of the bands that was played for me by a fellow employee was Murder by Death. Now, you're probably envisioning a bunch of beefy guys with skull tattoos playing screamy death metal rather than three geeky dudes and a pretty girl with a cello. Something in the brilliance of a name like that gives way to the truly wonderful music they make.

The CD that I got into first was Who Will Survive, and What Will Be Left of Them? released in 2003. It was in the rotation of the CD player in the store when I heard the song "Pillars of Salt", a delicate but forceful marriage of rock and orchestra that sent fire through my heart. Whoever was working with me said it was Radiohead and for some reason, that seemed possible to me, so I spent an hour that night making my friend Jess go through every of his Radiohead albums to find this song. After that enormous waste of time, I went back to the store's CD player and found out that Radiohead was in there - but so was Who Will Survive.... I bought it that day.

I always thought about seeing the band live, but it never worked out. A few months ago, David told me that they'd be playing at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco, a smaller venue that hosts larger groups. He bought tickets, and we went to the show Saturday. It was definitely worth the wait.

Funny

2009-02-17T11:19:00.001-08:00

I LOL'ed at this.

No thanks, Facebook

2009-02-16T13:01:00.000-08:00

I've always been apprehensive to join the commotion at Facebook. I can't explain it - it started as thinking the applications were annoying, and went further to feeling that the interface was boring and had little use. Finally, it seemed the only people I was connecting with were old high school peers, who I really don't care to share my life with. I started uploading my Flickr stream, and thought I'd use Facebook as just another Online Reputation Management tool for myself, posting little information aside from work/career based content.

But now, I am done. As of today, all content is erased from my profile. And it's because of this.
Excerpt:

You hereby grant Facebook an irrevocable, perpetual, non-exclusive, transferable, fully paid, worldwide license (with the right to sublicense) to (a) use, copy, publish, stream, store, retain, publicly perform or display, transmit, scan, reformat, modify, edit, frame, translate, excerpt, adapt, create derivative works and distribute (through multiple tiers), any User Content you (i) Post on or in connection with the Facebook Service or the promotion thereof subject only to your privacy settings or (ii) enable a user to Post, including by offering a Share Link on your website and (b) to use your name, likeness and image for any purpose, including commercial or advertising, each of (a) and (b) on or in connection with the Facebook Service or the promotion thereof.

Facebook is stating that they can take anything you put on your profile for themselves, modifying it in any way to sublicense or make money off of however they like, even after you delete it and your profile. We already knew that Facebook's applications were harvesting our personal data, but this change in TOS now means that anything shown on a Facebook page is theirs, forever. That includes personal information, text, photos including any and all uploads from any mobile device or other service that feeds to Facebook, or any other imaginable intellectual property or liability you chose to post.

For me, this means that any photos I post as a professional photographer do not belong to me. They belong to Facebook. If I watermark the photos I post, which I do, Facebook can edit/modify them to disinclude the watermark. As a musician, it means that any music I post belongs to Facebook to use, or license to someone else, freely and without my permission. For those of you who are parents and post photos of your children, Facebook can take those photos and license them to Gerber or Disney for use without your permission.

Please, interject here if this sounds AT ALL ACCEPTABLE.

As a member of the vast community that is social networking, I have taken the time to understand that anything I post online could be at risk for theft, and I understand that certain services do retain certain rights for stuff I share through it's platform. That being said, Facebook's decision to retain any and all rights to any intellectual property shared on it's site even after the User Agreement has been terminated is utterly demonic. That service, which already shares too much personal information, has now become a black hole for artists and those who create - even if it's just family photos. You never know where something of yours might turn up. It's like signing away your soul.

I urge you to join me and Taylor in going blank on Facebook. Some of the damage has already been done, but we're choosing to shut off the valve now.

And if you decide you want to continue as you always have, please think before you mindlessly share your work or your personal information. If you create something, do not give it away for free. Do not think it is normal or necessary for any company to take what is yours without your permission or without compensation.

ADDENDUM:

Un be-f*cking-lievable. I just got this new and amazing blog and had to add it to this post.

Facebook terms of service compared with MySpace, Flickr, Picasa, YouTube, LinkedIn, and Twitter

She does a great breakdown of other social networking sites Myspace, Flickr, Blogger, etc. and the TOS they use. Specifically, none of these sites claims any ownership of intellectual content posted to their platform. While some claim licensibility in some form, all contracts end when a user removes content or deletes their profile.

I might throw up now.

Thief

2009-02-11T01:59:00.000-08:00

Taken a moment after Josh teased Margo with this guitar pick and she used her cobra attack to steal it.

In Print.

2009-02-07T03:02:00.000-08:00

I received this from my sister in law today, as she'd promised she'd send it. I created the header for Lemmondrops, and this fantastic print piece for the St. Paul Pioneer Press by Molly Milliet has a screenshot of the blog including header. I read the story again and all of the sadness rushed back in to my blood. That photo - of her and Steve in that moment - is everything without words.

It's always been difficult for me to explain - to those who weren't a part of her blogging life- this situation and how it affects me. But today, as I work through the most difficult time in my lifetime, I hope to pull from her amazing, amazing ability to take nothing for granted, and cherish the joy in life, even when very, very small. I need that so very much right now.

Things like this.

Sometimes my desire to live, to hold onto this world, hits me full force, like it did this morning when I was driving across the Mississippi River with Daniel on the way to the mall, and the chilly air winked with sunshine, and K.D. Lang's version of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" was playing on the CD player, and I turned around to see how Daniel was liking the song, and we held each others' gaze just long enough until I needed to watch the road again, and tears came to my eyes because I love this life, this music, this autumn, my family, so much.

Marketing

2009-02-04T20:53:00.000-08:00

First this flyer, and then a postcard for a mailing campaign. Let me know what you think.

Hello, Readers

2009-02-03T18:45:00.000-08:00

Many, many people visit this blog every day to read my post on Sectoral Heterochromia. My blog actually ranks within the first five results on Google for those keywords, and my photo is high in the image search results.

So, if you're one of those visitors who has chosen to come back and read new posts, say hello!

I've got a fun project in mind that requires others with Sectoral Heterochromia, so please let me know if you're interested in learning more.

--------------------------------
Last night, I got out a box of old pictures and scanned them, something I'd been meaning to do for awhile. I'm starting to see age in my childhood photos and I figured I should start getting them into JPEG files in case they get really bad.

I uploaded a few to my flickr account. Here's one of my favorites.

Oh, young Nissa. There's so much I want to warn you about, but sadly...I cannot...

(Oh, for fun, free pendant to anyone who knows where I opted that quote from...)

Love Hand Made

2009-02-02T10:40:00.001-08:00

New Post!

A Non-Theist, Murder/Sucide and God; Learning to Grieve Without Faith

2009-01-30T23:48:00.000-08:00

I checked my friend's Facebook account tonight. He has quite a few personal messages from other friends, remembering, some with words like stunned and shocked and others with words like sad and angry. Many left things saying "this isn't goodbye, Ill see you again" or, "I hope you're at peace wherever you are." And yet what struck me the most was that little text box at the top of his comments section. It said "write something...". I clicked my mouse in the entry field and typed "Isn't it funny that you can type something here, in this space, for someone who is no longer here? Everyone but the person for whom the message is intended will read it. That person who I'm 'writing something to' is gone. This is just a web page."

I didn't post the message. I deleted it. I thought about posting it, and I thought about posting something less wordy, just a "I'm sorry that your pain took your life", or "I'll remember you for what you were, not how you ended up". But really, there's no reason. I don't believe he's reading the posts from heaven, or hell. I just believe he's dead. And no longer capable of reading his Facebook page.

Most of you who are reading this blog right now are very aware that I'm a non-theist and feel strongly about it. But, it bears mentioning as I have traveled on a spiritual road these past two weeks, one where I had to revisit my beliefs and non-beliefs to process my grief. To find closure, and to cleanse my soul of their marriage, which I helped to facilitate, with my own words and my own hands. I reached that place where humanity and reason do not tread; where faith steps in. I was there, sick with an inbalace of soul and the desire for a spiritual answer, one that suggested that nothing is in our control. And that only made me angrier.

And I just can't let him off like that. I'm angry because of his selfishness. I'm livid because I watched a beautiful woman with two beautiful children die fighting for her life. I'm disgusted because I lost a friend two years ago to ice and Mother Nature before he even graduated high school. I'm pissed for the five other childhood friends who lost their lives to tragic accidents, and the few I knew of but did not know. For the mothers, fathers and babies I read about through online friends. They didn't get the choice. And he did. And that's on him; not his wife, his therapist, me, or God. He pulled the trigger twice. And he ended their lives, forever.

I can't leave messages on his Facebook profile. Because he won't get them. But I understand why people do, much better than I did before. The pain is something no one should feel.

Firemom posted a blog a few weeks ago containing this quote:

“It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others”
– John Kirinrich

And that's not the whole answer, but it's the idea.

Saturday

2009-01-30T10:58:00.000-08:00

David's friend from college came to visit on Friday, and we had a nice mini-visit with him and another friend. They were supposed to stay with us at our house, but after experiencing San Francisco, he decided to get a hotel in the city so there'd be no driving back and forth. He does a lot of traveling for work, and had a lot of reward points, so he got us a hotel room as well. We stayed at the nice Westin at Union Square, in a room with a great view.

We had a nice night. I love staying in hotels!

Margot

2009-01-24T15:02:00.001-08:00

I've got a lot of blog posts milling around in my head, but I just haven't been quite able to write them. The past two weeks have been full of firsts and change, good and bad, and I'm really just trying to experience everything happening in the healthiest way possible. I'll write a real post soon.

For now, here's Margot. She and I haven't gotten along so well. The night we returned from Christmas Vacation, she mistook my finger for a treat and took a chunk out. That's not usual for rats (especially ours) and it shook me. I realized that she needs more socialization than I've given her, because I think I took for granted that Agatha and Suzanne would usher her in to their personalities. She's much different, and needs some more attention. So we're working on it. She's a member of our family and I don't want to let her down without a fight.

I took this picture last night. I still can't stick my finger in the cage to pet her (Agatha and Suzi will lick your finger and then hold your hand with their little hand; Margot is unsure of fingers still and is likely to bite too hard. ) but she takes treats very nicely and carefully when she's out of the cage. She'll have to learn to follow the rules like her sisters, but I'm trying to be optimistic that we'll be friends soon. She's so young and full of speed.

Barack Obama and Thoughts of Finding New Hope: We, too, Have a Dream

2009-01-19T21:23:00.000-08:00

Driving home today I caught the mid-end of Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have A Dream" speech playing on NPR. We've all heard it, and most likely know what it is within a few words, but today I let it play and continued on my drive, ingesting his words, his tone, his confidence in his people and his nation. I thought about the time at which the speech was delivered; August of 1963, when America was in the thick of racial suffrage and lurching in to political and social unrest. In only a few months, that America would lose their President; soon after they'd find themselves drafted in to a war that separated their nation for a decade and changed the path of democracy forever. That America was at a crossroads, much like the America of today.

Dr. King stood there, on Washington Mall, not untouched by the trials and tribulations of their time. He was no saint; but rather, a man with a dream and a vision of hope. He knew that the future didn't lie in his hands only, or the hands of his President or Government alone , but those of the hundreds of thousands of citizens before him. He shared his dream as only that: a dream; one that was extraordinary and awesome and incredible. He had the hope to believe that those people united could stand against the tests of their time and the injustice of their system to bring change from the bottom. He sought to inspire, to engage, and to light the match of creative ambition on every person of every color and every walk of life.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

Every four years Dr. King's birthday is celebrated at the eve of a new American President. This year we observe on the precipice of change and history; a man of mixed race will take the Oath of Office. He is clamored as the Answer. But he alone is not. Tomorrow, January 20th, 2009, Barack Obama will become the 44th President of the United States. He will be nothing less, and nothing more. He will succeed and he will fail. His future is unwritten, or if you so believe, written, but unknown; only time and trial will create the President and man he'll become. But his message, his creed, rings together in harmony with those great words spoken by Dr. King. Hope. Change. Faith. Dream. Believe. Though the context is different, the meaning is the same.

I've seen the t-shirts, the stickers, buttons, minted coins and cakes. I've heard the praises sung and the books flying off the shelves. But what I've noticed the most are the smiles. The laughter. The giddy, childlike glee that is stuck to the world as we await this new President. The euphoria surrounding us as we wait is hope that this man is what we believe him to be, and the faith that he's the change we've been dreaming of. The leader we want and need so desperately. America is in love with hope, change, faith, dreams and belief.

And that love is contagious. Our neighbors and friends overseas have become twitterpated as well, finding hope that this man will finally close the door on the old and burst through the new. The world is in love with hope, change, faith, dreams and belief.

After the pain, anger and injustice of these past eight years, this country, this world stands with hands clasped in the waiting. And we know, in our heart of hearts, that the flight is just beginning. We know this man will lead us but he will not be without fault. But right here, right now, we're choosing to say we have a dream. A dream that one day, great words will mean great actions. That progressive action and democracy aren't just catch prases but outcomes. That change is possible and trust can exist between our selves and our leaders. That freedom and justice can be for all.

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

So much pessimism has surfaced - most, as a result of the criminal acts of our current president, the untruthful promises of many before him. The pundits and talking heads say Barack Obama will let us all down and become just another in the long line of political hoo has. "This man is a celebrity, not a leader. He's a spectacle to be worn."

And to that I say, we have a dream. A dream that one day, great words will mean great actions. That progressive action and democracy aren't just catch prases but outcomes. That change is possible and trust can exist between our selves and our leaders. That freedom and justice can be for all.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

Because we refuse to believe that what was will always be. We refuse to accept the corrupt nature of times past. We refuse to fall victim to the pessimism, anger, indifference and inaction that has plagued the citizens of this country. We refuse to be silent and accept. We refuse to use violence and destruction in our journey.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

I have a dream that one day, our country will again be great in the eyes of the world, not for our material possessions, but for our integrity. That I can trust my President to make the best decisions for my safety and my happiness. That my children will grow up educated and stimulated and prepared for success. That hate, fear and intolerence will no longer be staples of the American Culture.

And I'm choosing to believe in hope with the optimism and giddiness of a child. And I'm not the only one.

Thank you, Barack Obama. And welcome to the jungle.

Monday, January 19 2009 - At the Grocery Store

2009-01-19T13:07:00.001-08:00

Now

2009-01-14T10:51:00.000-08:00

Some exciting news is that I've been featured in Dahlila Found's blog, Snowflower Street. She chose a few photos that she enjoys, and her support of my work is much appreciated. I should add that I met Dahlila on Twitter and she's a sweetheart.

I got a new job yesterday, that I interviewed for last week. It is a very small, part time job in the Piedmont district of Oakland that I love. The owner is bubbly, excited and sweet and there are literally two other people who work there. The hours are perfect and the day will end when I leave work. It is a very good development in a place where there are very few jobs. It's a happy, wonderful thing.

I am still confident that 2009 will be a good year.

No one.

2009-01-12T22:48:00.000-08:00

Is it to early to post? Probably. I probably don't even feel the same right now as I'll feel tomorrow. And the day after that, it will be different as well. So I'll post now, maybe to remember how I feel right now, and maybe to get it out of my insides. I don't know.

I knew this guy. He was sort of a character, though never in a way you could really pinpoint. He was a lot of things to a lot of people, and to me, he was a work friend who was around my old company nearly since the beginning, like me, who I spent a few months carpooling with, who asked me to help him with something very special for he and his wife at their wedding. That part I can't talk about right now. We weren't the closest of friends, but got along well and his nature was so interesting that it was easy to find something to chat about, or something in common. He loved a lot of things and something we always connected on was music. When I told him that I loved the Cure and the Smiths, he was ecstatic. We talked about how Morrissey's work with the Smiths was far superior to his solo work. We agreed his solo work was useless. We agreed that Simon Gallup was quite possibly the best bassist in existence, and the Cure's melodies were really what made the band. Though I didn't share my band with many people at work, I played him "In Technicolor" once, after he pushed me and pushed me to show him my music. I don't know why I was so against it, but I was. He heard it in the car, while we were driving to work, stuck in traffic one day, like any other. When the song started and my lyrics came in, a second passed before he said, "Woah, is that YOU singing? You're fantastic. For a second I thought you were Gwen Stefani!" That might sound odd, and I don't really sound like Gwen Stefani, but I got what he was saying. It was a complement, and he wasn't the type to give them out like candy. Last winter, when it was impossible to find a Wii, he was magically offered one at Target by a little stock lady, and promptly accepted it because though he had one, he knew that I was hoping to find one. The next day, it sat on my desk chair waiting for me. Now it sits in my house, and I love it.

My old friend took his life last night, after taking the life of his wife. There's little else to say about it, because it was a pointless fucking tragedy. This gruesome reality of someone we knew, not just a somebody on the news who hit the edge and jumped to the point of no return. Sickangryconfusedpissedsickundecided. I don't feel now the way I felt earlier, and I'll feel different tomorrow. But right now I feel like no one should ever know what this feels like. No one. Ever. No one should read news articles where someone they know, or knew, or loved is reduced to a neighbor's description, a legal folder and a crime scene. A Monster. A murderer. No one should see people's pointless, ugly, uneducated comments on such articles. No one should have to imagine what happened. No one should have this. No one. Not one person on earth. Not his family, or her family, or his close friends, or her close friends, or his old friends, or her old friends, or their neighbors, or their acquaintences, or the grocery store clerk, or the mailman, or the random guy on the street, or him, her, she, he or me. No one. And now we all have. And that's where it is right now.

If You're Quiet, You Might Hear Humility

2009-01-12T09:44:00.000-08:00

I used to buy myself basically anything I wanted. Within reason of course; I didn't buy anything extraordinary, but if it was under a certain price, I didn't really think that much about it, because my job paid well enough that the money wasn't missed then. (It's missed now, and in the real world.) Now I don't have a job, because I quit my last job for this reason. I don't want money to buy myself everything because having that luxury made me a lazy and dull person and artist. And that sucked, and continues to suck while I try to fix things.

Now I'm selling. Basically everything. If it sits, it goes. It makes me a little depressed to sell things at a price much lower than the one I paid for them, but as I watch things move and the pile of cash grow, the depression fades a little.

I need a new lens. I don't need it because I want it, I need it because it is the next step on this path I'm on. It's what I need to get better at what I'm doing. And I promised myself that when that pile of cash on the fridge reached $300, the lens would be mine. And not until then.

I'm almost there. So I did what I didn't want to: I made these...

...in hopes of getting a few sales, and bringing some attention to the highly specialized necklaces and rings that I generally have in my Artfire store.

I'm only making two sets, and this is the first. Each can be purchased individually in my store.

It's not that I don't like glass pendants, I do. And I love the images in these. They just don't require the special attention that my large necklaces and rings do, and I'll continue to invest most of my time on the more specialized jewelery.

But I'm learning that sometimes, it's what you don't expect or bet on that works.

**UPDATE**
Thanks for the few of you who have snapped up all the glass pendants! There are only two left...get them while you still can.

Sectoral Heterochromia

2009-01-08T20:26:00.000-08:00

I have a sectoral heterochromia in my left eye. It has been there ever since I was young. I just learned that term, sectoral heterochromia, two weeks ago when an advertisement for the (awful looking) movie "Unborn" prompted me to google search this particular condition. In the horrifying ad, the protagonist has a half colored eye, which in this particular movie, means that she is a Chimera. This made me excited. Could I be a Chimera, since I too have a half colored eye? Well, only one way to find out: Google. While I'll spare you the minute details, I found nothing that pointed to Chimera positively, but also a slew of other genetic disorders that could possibly be at fault for my strange half brown, half green eye.

From Wikipedia:

In anatomy, heterochromia refers to a difference in coloration, usually of the iris but also of hair or skin. Heterochromia is a result of the relative excess or lack of melanin (a pigment). It may be inherited, due to genetic mosaicism, or due to disease or injury.^[1]

Eye color, specifically the color of the irises, is determined primarily by the concentration and distribution of melanin.^[2]^[3]^[4] The affected eye may be hyperpigmented (hyperchromic) or hypopigmented (hypochromic).^[5] In humans, usually, an excess of melanin indicates hyperplasia of the iris tissues, whereas a lack of melanin indicates hypoplasia.

Heterochromia of the eye (heterochromia iridis or heterochromia iridum) is of two kinds. In complete heterochromia, one iris is a different color from the other. In partial heterochromia or sectoral heterochromia, part of one iris is a different color from its remainder.
Partial or sectoral heterochromia is much less common than complete heterochromia and is typically found in autosomally inherited disorders such as Hirschsprung's disease and Waardenburg syndrome.

Eh, wha? I was trying to figure out if I had a resorbed twin, and instead I find out that I could have a genetic disorder. This wasn't a good discovery. Luckily, I found an even better possibility. Some bloggers and other researchers who have looked in to heterochromia suggest that it is a sign of royalty, because it's oft found in European roayls (including Alexander the Great), and the gene is passed through family DNA, and generally must be present on both sides of the pool. However, my parents know of no other people in our family who have ever had this condition, except, of course, me.

I don't really pass the criteria for those genetic disorders from the Wiki article, and well, maybe I'm some Scandinavian princess, which would be cool, but I was really pulling for a resorbed twin. I suppose there is no way for me to ever really find out unless I went through some heavy duty medical testing, which I don't really want to go through, so for now, I will dream about being a Chimera Princess.

::UPDATES::

It's been awhile since I made this post, and have been enjoying the comments coming in over time. Thanks for leaving your stories :D

I'm going to try and add additional resources here when I find them.

MORE SECTORAL HETEROCHROMIA RESOURCES

Yahoo! Answers: Heterochromia
Sectoral Heterochromia Flickr Group
Facebook Group for People with Sectoral Heterochromia