And so.

It’s been a year since I have posted anything to my lonely blog. I find myself missing it after the holiday’s, it seems.  So much has changed in my life since I first created this page, and the 365 page previous to it; divorce, name change, address change, semi-adult children, new camera. But the same me.

Gene Stratton Porter Winter 2014

Gene Stratton Porter Winter, Early 2015

In the years since the divorce, I found out a bit about the motivation behind my initial 365:  escape.  Escape from silences, escape from sadness, escape from an unraveling marriage.  I don’t need my camera any longer.  Now I occasionally enjoy it. And only Very Occasionally do I edit the photos I shoot.  Case in point:  the photos I am posting tonight. Shot a year ago, likely right after my last post, transferred to a flash drive when I gave the a230 to my daughter and forgotten.

Gene Stratton Porter Winter 2014

Gene Stratton Porter Winter, Early 2015

Let’s see how long it takes to do my next post…

Gene Stratton Porter Winter 2014

Gene Stratton Porter Winter, Early 2015

Gene Stratton Porter Winter 2014

Gene Stratton Porter Winter, Early 2015

Gene Stratton Porter Winter 2014

Gene Stratton Porter Winter, Early 2015

Gene Stratton Porter Winter 2014

Gene Stratton Porter Winter, Early 2015

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It is alive….

Yes. She is still alive.  She rarely takes her camera out of the bag any longer.  Her life has changed in many ways.

Life goes on.  The weather grows warm and cold.  Leaves appear and go away.  But the beauty remains.

Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014 Bonneyville Mill January 2014

Day 10 – Five

Five Silly Librarians

A Game of Fives by Lewis Carroll

Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:
Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:
Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:
Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:
Each young man that calls, I say “Now tell me which you MEAN!”

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:
But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?

Five showy girls – but Thirty is an age
When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don’t ENGAGE.

Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!

Five PASSE girls – Their age? Well, never mind!
We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:
But the quondam “careless bachelor” begins to think he knows
The answer to that ancient problem “how the money goes”!

•••
This “five” came in threes today. Three because three of the ladies shown in this photo used three different cameras to shoot three different photos at the same time.  So, our fivesome became a threesome, of sorts!  (some silly woman Photoshopped this one too!)

Red – Day One

Here we are at another Day One, months after I said I would never do this again.  And I think this one may be more of a challenge with the additional work I have unwittingly given myself. They say that some are wise and some are otherwise.  I shall reserve my judgment for now…

Tis be Day One - Redfully so!

Tis be Day One – Redfully so!

The Red Dress by Dorothy Parker
I always saw, I always said
If I were grown and free,
I’d have a gown of reddest red
As fine as you could see,

To wear out walking, sleek and slow,
Upon a Summer day,
And there’d be one to see me so
And flip the world away.

And he would be a gallant one,
With stars behind his eyes,
And hair like metal in the sun,
And lips too warm for lies.

I always saw us, gay and good,
High honored in the town.
Now I am grown to womanhood….
I have the silly gown.

The Devil Made Me Do It……

Oh, dear….  It looks as though I have done it again.  I couldn’t say no.  I have no will.  I have committed to another 365 day photo journey with a friend.  And what is worse?  I suggested it!  AND I set up a Facebook page so that other people can join in.  So, two days later, I have 365 days with assigned themes, and each of those themes is within a loose weekly theme.  There are 12 jpg calendars with the daily themes, for sharing or whatever and I am sitting here wondering what is wrong with my head?  Sheesh!

When will I ever learn?!?

Winter is Coming

I suppose that it is time for me to post a bit of something.  My last post was quite the downer – makes me sigh just to read it.  So enough of the doom and gloom and what do we have?

CHRISTMAS!!!

All we need is a bit of snow to make this perfect!

No, these are not last year’s photos; I shot them this yesterday and the day before in my dear old friend, Shipshewana.  The town lit up for the holidays this past Saturday – when you are a tourist trap and you rely on tourist $$ to survive, you light up early!  I missed the Twinkle Parade because I had to endure an evening of drivel, and by that I mean a night at the library watching over the gaggle of teens and tweens who were in turn watching the Twilight Saga Marathon I cobbled together.  Thank the Good Lord that I didn’t actually have to watch the movies – I babysat at the circulation desk whilst my younger staff watched the interminable, abominable, execrable films.  Vampires DO NOT sparkle! Christmas lights sparkle!

A bit of Intentional Camera Movement. *note the caps

Life is not always pretty….

Just as we have experienced our long drought this past summer, and are still feeling the effects, my life seems to have become a drought of feeling, creativity, color.  Words do not come to me any longer and my eyes don’t want to look.  I am entering a season, I know.  It is a season that I have weathered before.  There are more lows than highs and it feels monochromatic.  I am tired. I ache.  If I cared enough, I would be heartsick.  My marriage is all but finished for me and I don’t care to work on the dead hulk of it any longer.  I am frustrated and tethered to a man who ignores the fact that I am ignoring him, who acts as though nothing is wrong and who refused to get help.  I don’t want help any longer.  I just want out, away, far away.

The only colors in my life are Michael and Samantha.  And for now, they are color enough.