Farewell Kiss

Oh that last kiss... just one more before he plopped the pacifer in the drawer and pushed it shut. A moment of pure bliss. No words required. Today, share with us a bit of pure visual bliss. Or perhaps a sweet kiss.

at home

There's something special about photographing a baby in their home environment. It's nice to know that these photos will be around for them to see when they are all grown up. Those early days of babyhood will eventually fade from their memories, but the photos will be present to spark some recognition of a toy or room in their house. Images like these are as important to parents as they are to the kids who will someday flip through albums and reminisce.

These lucky little ones will have a wonderful record of their first loving homes. Have you taken any photos that will be a valuable addition to the family photo album?

Life Lessons

This is my third year photographing the kids at my son's elementary school as they learn and rehearse for their annual school musical.  My goal is to capture, in candid shots, the joy the children get from doing this and to share it in a slideshow for their friends and families to see on the night of their performance.  It's no secret that I love to photograph children.  Out of the hundreds of photos I get to take of these kids, there's always one or two shots that reach right inside of me and give my heart a squeeze.  I am amazed at how comfortable these kids are in their own skin, not worrying about what anyone thinks or if their outfit for the day matches perfectly or not.  As an adult, I can't remember when I last felt like that.  It's those shots that are little lessons in my life, courtesy of another beautiful child.

How about you? Do you have that one shot that has captured your heart? Do share!

bubblicious

Earlier this week my daughter asked to go outside and blow bubbles.  I am a big lover of bubbles.  We bundled up and took our little pink ice cream cone bubble blower outside in the snow and blew them to the sky.  I had my camera focused on her as she puffed out her cheeks in great effort to make some herself.  (At 3 blowing bubbles is a BIG deal.)  One floated over my head and i followed it with my camera clicking away trying to focus on its flight.  Just then it gently landed on our deck railing.  I assumed it would pop instantly on contact,  it did not.  Instead it balanced on the snow.  The colors drew me right in.  I was mesmerized by the fantastic swirls.  I kept snapping away, waiting for the inevitable 'pop!'.  That's when I noticed my reflection; half of me, and house behind me, was right side up and the other half upside down, twisted in the mirror of the bubble.  What a happy surprise.

Bubbles are universal.  No matter your age,  bubbles are happy makers that create some great photo fun.  Do you have any bubble magic to share?  Maybe today you could use some simple happiness that blowing bubbles can bring?  Go ahead,  the kid in you will thank you.

Oh and one more thing, check out this incredible *POP*! WOW.

Friday's Featured Resource - Vision and Verb

It was a time of hope and innocence. A time when the cries of love and peace rang louder than the thunder of distant war. We wore bell-bottom jeans and mini-skirts and long strings of beads. We rocked to the music of The Beatles, the Grateful Dead, the Rolling Stones and rapped to the rhythm of  the Motown beat. We ate cheeseburgers and fries and malt shakes. For under $1.00 we got to experience Mary Poppins in the big screen theater. We were Sesame Street’s first audience, and loved Mr. Rogers. We adored the Brady Bunch and dreamed of being as strong and  independent as Mary Tyler Moore. We played hopscotch and four-square and ran free as can be. When the first giant step for mankind was taken on the moon, we cheered. We cried when John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King were assassinated. We were champions of equal rights. We were daughters of the feminist and sexual revolution. We believed that we could pursue our dreams and become whoever we wished and hoped to be.

We talked on hard-wired telephones with old-fashioned rings and busy signals. We listened to music that was recorded on long-playing records. Mail was delivered by our local mailmen and dropped in boxes by our front door. Dinner left over from the previous night was reheated in a conventional oven. The television that we watched was restricted to three local channels and rendered only  in black and white. The ‘Land of Oz’ what we knew, wasn’t brought to us in Technicolor.

We were girls of the 60’s.  We knew only what we knew and never imagined how the world might change.

Some  went to college, and pursued their professional dreams. Some got married. Some did not. Some had children. Others never had the desire or the need. Children grew. Marriages changed. Professions that once looked so glamorous and exciting turn out to be not quite as they’d initially appeared. That single solitary bar to which we’d clung so tight no longer felt quite as solid nor as secure. What we believed would fill and fulfill didn’t quite.

We are now of ‘that’ age. Not quite old enough to be truly wise, not young enough to be that innocent and naïve. Each on our own creative path and journey we stretch, we reach out, we look up to the sky in hopes for some sort of divine intervention and inspiration. Searching for our creative voice and style and coming from all parts of the world  we bravely put ourselves out there on this great world wide web, where anything and everything is possible. A universe that was once confined to our immediate surrounds opened itself to our searching fingertips. We believed.

Found through our shared but unique histories and our creative passions we connected. We’ve never met or talked live or in person.  We know nothing about each other’s daily lives.  We join our collaborative and collective forces and find a shared canvas on which to paint. Each in her own voice. Each in her own authentic style. We write. We photograph. We make sense and stories out of our lives.

We talk by email. Our music comes to us on MP3’s. We re-heat last night’s dinners in microwave ovens. And the television we watch is in full color and broadcast worldwide. The children we once were, we are no longer. The world that once  was, has changed. The bar we now swing from is longer and more far-reaching. We’ve grown. We’ve evolved. We have come to believe that we are better versions of ourselves than the ones we once were.

Still full of hope. Still believing that the sounds of peace and love will drown out those rumbles of distant war.

We are women of a ‘certain age’. Reconnected.

We are delighted that Marcie Scudder shared this guest post with us on behalf of she and her co-creator  Toni Johnson and the rest of the amazing contributors at their brand new blog Vision and Verb. Go girls!