I took this image of my hairdresser's scissors. I just loved the teeth on them.

rob_MG_6143

rob_MG_6143, originally uploaded by mind the light.

Ireland

We went to Ireland for a week in between packing and moving to California. It was so beautiful and just like what you would expect - green fields, cows and ponies, and pubs galore all painted pretty colors.

We stopped at this hippy cafe with a caravan and trampoline out back on the way to Dingle (I did bounce on their trampoline) and they told us we had to stop at Inch Beach. It was a beautiful large expanse of sand and mountains and I took this photo. (Hint: if you click on the image, you'll see a larger version of it)

Waking up in Paris

I have been in Europe for 5 days now. It has been like coming home - drinking fresh coffee, walking all over, looking at so much art, watching people, watching life parade by and photographing everything and nothing at the same time. Does it matter? I always wished this could be my life somehow and then now it is, and it feels so natural, but I know it will end. Already, the mounds of cat hair under my bed and the stacks of unread mail on the kitchen table do not matter. This is life. This is living. Breathing and walking and seeing and thinking and dreaming. Do my feet need to touch the ground?

beautiful weeds

I just love the moment when the dandelions cover all the grass by the lake in Chicago. They are just such pretty and simple flowers, that we forget about them. I know they are a weed, but what a beautiful weed. I got down on their level and shot the budding dandelions with this new crazy macro lens that I have. What a great view from down there!

sledding

sledding, originally uploaded by mind the light.

Ahh winter. Cold but not without its simple joys, like sledding.

Old woman Venice

Old woman Venice, originally uploaded by mind the light.

Just found this shot and love the light. It is November, but still gorgeous.

I know that woman has walked that same calle (street) hundreds of times.

American flag

20070806_2542, originally uploaded by mind the light.

Really old and see through. Amazing old relic. Traverse City Michigan.

rob running through a sprinkler

rob running through a sprinkler, originally uploaded by mind the light.

Oh no summer is over. But here are some great memories. Shot in Roger's Park this summer!

I found my blog!

I thought I lost it for many months after they changed Blogger and I couldn't remember my pasword. But now she is back!

Here is how I want to spend my old age. In Venice, of course!

movies

I was thinking about the wonderful movies I have seen -

The Best of Youth
Sex and Lucia
All about my Mother
Hoop Dreams
Country Boys
Elling
Together

The pigeon food seller in St. Mark's square

toilet bowl - your most valued possession

I was listening to the radio this morning when I heard that the latest Feng Shui idea to ensure good luck is to clean your toilet bowl with an old toothbrush. So, I decide right then and there that I need some good luck and I get a toothbrush and start scrubbing (though I soon switch to using a sponge with an abrasive side which works much better). And while I am doing this I realize that this toilet is the most valuable thing in my apartment. I watched Oprah interviewing candidates for her new leadership academy in South Africa last week and so many of them came from homes with no running water and an outhouse. So, while yesterday, I would have said my computer or my camera was my most valued possession, how many of us could go one day without a working toilet in our house? I vow to take better care of my toilet.

music from the radioblogclub.com

My beating heart

I read this quote and thought it was amazing!

When a writer writes, it's as if she holds the sides
of her chest apart, exposes her beating heart. And
even though everything wants to heal and close over
and protect the heart, the writer must keep it bare,
exposed. And in doing this, all of life is kept back,
all the petty demands of the day-to-day. The heart is
a river. The act of writing is moving water that holds
the banks apart, keeps the muscle of words flexing so
that the reader can be carried along by this movement.
To be given space and the chance to leave one's
earthly world. Is there any greater freedom than this?

I just substitute the word writer with photographer,
but it pertains to anything creative. The book is
about a woman in England during World War II who is
reviving a garden on an abandoned mansion.It is called
The Lost Garden by Helen Humphries. The author is also
a poet and it is just a gorgeous book.

Window in Venice

Venice again

I was in Venice again in November and this time the mist was spectacular. Really all consuming, the way I remembered it. And Venice is so quiet and dark at night that it really does add to the mystery of the place.

dots

yesterday, as I enlarged a photo really BIG, I realized that we are all just dots of matter strung together with energy.

BUT, I keep trying to figure a way to get everything in balance. Me, the country, the planet. I can't take the inequality of it all. The people starve in Darfur while I throw away old bread and a piece of dried up cheese. How can this work out?

And the term throw away. Where is "away". I am driving myself insane, slowly with all this.

So, I did volunteer last week. Try to right the planet, one small dot at a time.

rehearsal

Florida

Despite my best efforts, I have become an erratic blogger. Went to Florida for a week. Sat in the sun, swam and played shuffleboard and hardly touched my computer. Here is one of my shots from the trip. Taken at the Ca' Zan at the Ringling Museum.