Heaven

Image shot with a Lensbaby.

On the first day of spring, we braved the cold Portland rain, threw our suitcases in the back of the car and headed for the airport. I couldn't help but feel giddy. Giddy to be leaving it all behind for a couple of days. And when our little plane finally landed in Palm Springs four hours later and we stepped out onto the tarmac, out into blinding bright sunshine and wide open blue skies, I wanted to cry. Giddy is maybe not even the word. This trip to Palm Springs had been in the works for months. The fine folks at the Ace Hotel & Swim Club had invited me down all the way back in August but due to circumstances beyond my control, I wasn't actually able to take them up on the offer for a good six months. I know now that the timing was perfect, that the whole thing had come to fruition at exactly the right moment and as our cab pulled into the driveway of the Ace, I felt my shoulders relax. I looked at my sweet friend Nataly (who I'd invited along for the ride) and I think maybe I squealed, I don't know. 

When it comes to traveling, I am notorious for over-planning. I get excited about new cities, new places and want to learn everything I possibly can so that I can plan extraordinary experiences. I try to leave room for things to just happen but more often than not, we are rushing from one thing to the next. With Palm Springs, I let all that go. My only plan for our 48 hours was to just let things unfold. To raise my camera when it felt right. To wholly surrender to the experience. And for 48 hours, that's exactly what we did. We wandered the grounds and lounged in hammocks. We laid in bed and listened to records. We drank mexican coke in white flannel robes by the patio fireplace and ordered room service. We hopped in and out of the photobooth (and then in and out again) and borrowed bikes from the Ace to ride into town. We floated on our backs in the swimming pool and looked up at the stars. We sat in the quiet of the diner and talked. Sometimes I picked my camera up, sometimes I didn't. 

It was exquisite. 

I didn't want to leave. Ever. I wanted to send for my husband and children and maybe a few of our things. I wanted to start a new life in room 237. But when the time finally came to leave, I felt rested and ready to go, ready to take on the real world and a hundred other little things. And as our cab pulled away, my mind jumped ahead to October. I couldn't help but feel excited about Shutter Sisters Oasis. And I couldn't imagine a more perfect place for it. 

Today, share with us a time when you just let it all go, relaxed into life, and allowed it to unfold.

***Just a reminder: Registration for Oasis opens today, at 9am Pacific Standard Time. We do hope you can join us!***

magic sand dollar

Do you have anything that holds magic?

I use the term loosely when I say “magic”. I mean something that inspires you, something that makes you feel better or something that you treasure. The magical items in our lives often come as gifts from someone or are items that we have found. They are things that have been kept for a long time, by ourselves or by others. They are often old, but not always. They can be jewelry, fabric, art or handwritten letters.

Recently, when digging through my boxes of stuff, I came across this sand dollar. I remembered that it had been given to me by a traveling stranger that I met one night at a coffee shop that I frequented while I was in college. I couldn’t remember very much else, so I dug through my drawer of journals until I found an entry from January 1996 in which I had written down the details of the encounter.

The traveling stranger was named Julian and he had picked up the sand dollar on a beach in San Quintin, Baja. He told me that my power was to see the truth and he told me a Lakota story of the Four Directions; the West is black and represents voice, the East is red and represents land, the South is yellow and represents the mind and body and the North is white and represents togetherness.

Now, the younger, naive version of me was enthralled by this story and took it at face value. The older, wiser version of me went straight to the Internet to fact check. I was able to find out that there is a Lakota story of the Four Directions. Many Native Americans tell the story differently, with different colors and attributes ascribed to each direction, but the essence of the story remains the same. It is about balance. I was also able to confirm that you can find sand dollars on the beach in San Quintin, Baja California and they look exactly like this one, small and without the five key holes that are typical of sand dollars. It seems this mysterious stranger was not just giving me lines.

I feel very lucky to have received these gifts, the story and the sand dollar, all those years ago. It was at a time in my life when I was seeking direction and I needed some guidance. I think it is fitting and appropriate that I am now a photographer. I am so glad that I kept the sand dollar and that I wrote down the details of the encounter with Julian, in a way they mean even more to me now.

I keep the sand dollar wrapped in tissue paper and tucked into a glass jar on my shelf. It is delicate and needs protecting. Every time I take it out to look at it, sand falls out of the hole in the back. It sparkles and makes me think of the pixie dust in Peter Pan. The sand dollar is full of lines and the flower-like imprint on the front is amazing. I try to put as much sand as I can back inside when I put it away. A little bit is lost each time though, falling into my lap or stuck on my fingers. It is the price paid for a little inspiration.

When I hold this magical item now, I am inspired to tell stories and to take pictures. I am inspired to share the truth of what I see and experience with others. I remember the unusual person that gave it to me and I wonder where he is now and what he is doing. I imagine he is still telling stories and sharing his wisdom with the world. I think of him as an ancient medicine man, traveling the world, looking for people to heal and inspire. I hope that I can be as wise and generous with others as he was with me.

Today, I would love to see pictures of your magic items, those things in your life that are comforting and special, and to hear the story of how it came into your possession, how long you have had it, and what it means to you.

Image and words courtesy of guest blogger, photographer and artist Leslie Fandrich.

let nature be your teacher

"Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher. " - William Wordsworth

I was the first person coming down the slopes. The one who would stop every 5 minutes just to take in the glorious landscape or lie down on the freshly fallen, cushy snow. And some days the wind blowing on my face would move me to tears. Spending time in nature, whether in the mountains or at the beach, is always a humbling, exhilarating experience that reminds me to slow down, delight in the simple things in life, embrace the unknown and live each moment wholeheartedly.

Today share with us how nature inspires you. Share what nature teaches you.

right at home

I am not sure what it is that transforms a place from being just another space to somewhere that feels like home. Maybe it's when you know it is safe to hang up your armor of defenses at the door. Or when you realize that you leave little bits of your heart behind whenever you spend time there. Or perhaps it's when you see your child plop down on a futon with a familiarity as if she has spent countless hours hanging out on that piece of furniture.

I love this photo of my daughter making herself right at home in my friends' apartment. To me, it is actually a perfect depiction of how I feel about that space, the affection and love I hold for that locale and for the friends who live there. It is a reminder that I photograph the spaces I inhabit because the photos become repositories of the memories knit together by love and friendship and laughter and conversation in that very place.

Please share with us your images of the places where you can hang your heart, the places that make you feel right at home, whether you actually live there or not.

Connection in Community

There are these ties that bind us to our outside world. Sometimes they're tangible. Like a phone call from a friend or an unexpected visit from a family member. All straight-forward events, rather predictable. But there are other bonds, less obvious ones, connecting us in an invisible web of community stretching far from our homes. Take this one for example. You are more than likely reading this blog because of your love of photography, but if you're like me, you return again and again for the special glimpses we get into one another's lives through the daily posts and the various theme groups…and of course the thrill and chance of having your photo featured.

But I've found that there's something more, something bigger, something exciting that takes place when we go from just visiting a group anonymously to engaging with it fully. When we take one little step in its direction, magic begins to happen. You see, I've found that by reaching out, even when it seemed uncomfortable or strange or weird, that my world expanded growing in unimaginable directions. It certainly didn't happen overnight, but slowly I've found myself with a new circle of friends, female photography friends, which as we all know aren't necessarily living down the street. And as my circle increased, something unexpected happened, I found my confidence in my photography grew stronger, my focus deepened, and I found a calm within myself that hadn't existed before. The energy we shared collectively seemed to augment one another's skills. And sometimes, someone who'd seemed unapproachable to me, because they were further along in a journey I wished to emulate, would be willing to respond if I took the time to reach out to them.

Over the past year, I've been able to shift my community out of cyberspace and into face-to-face encounters with these incredible women. From Frankfurt, Germany to Monterey, CA from to New York City to my hometown of Philadelphia, I've been fortunate enough to attend several meetups that a year ago I could never have imagined. I've gone from meeting these women in person to shoving up against one another while barefoot on the beach to get just the right shot…from where we stood! But that's just what has happened. I felt honored and delighted at my reception, and a little amazed at how it all unfolded. And all because I reached out, taking one, little tippy toe step at a time.

How about you? Have you felt the magic of community? What relationships and bonds have you formed lately? Today, share with us your images of connection.

Image (shot with a Lensbaby) and post courtesy of the awesome Holly Clark, who many of us know and love as Soupatraveler.