Faceless Portraits Part 2

 

  I am still experimenting with Faceless Portraits, but this series has a focus below the waist. It was interesting what my camera captured today as I roamed around my classroom while students were taking a test.

 

At home I continue to capture faceless portraits.

Blog Anniversary #4

On February 17, 2007 I did my first post on this blog. I created a post about the four seasons of the Inland Empire. After that first post I never looked back. I have now posted 1,451 posts and the posts  have varied from memoir pieces, recipes, sibling assignments, photos, gardening tips, poetry, life around our place, road trips around northeastern Washington state,our pets, family, and lots of lots of bouquets. Here are some favorite photos.

Kit right after he arrived to our house.

Kellogg High School

ice on the greenhouse window

plant starts in the greenhouse window

Annie: My Own Brown Eyes

BROWN EYES

In early youth I made a vow
That if to Cupid I should bow,
The one for whom he aimed the dart
At my desired, unclaimed heart,
Must have brown eyes; large, soft brown eyes.

Time came when eyes looked into mine;
Large, soft brown eyes that seemed to shine
With intellect. Did I succumb?
Oh yes! for though the lips were dumb,
Those lovely eyes I deemed a prize.

Within their depths devotion shone,
And as they gazed into my own,
They seemed to say, "My love is thine.
Please let me know that I have thine."
And Oh! I knew his heart was true.

My arms his snowy neck entwined,
And I rejoiced a love to find
So worshipful, so constant, true.
How oft they've thrilled me through and through,
My collie's wise, large, soft brown eyes!

by Mrs.S.L.Dempsey 

 ( although mine is a springer spaniel, I still love the poem)

Found Art: Hearts

 As I toured around with my camera yesterday I searched for hearts and created a few new ones also.

 Happy Valentine's Day early!

Valentine for Ernest Mann

 You can't order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the counter, say, "I'll take two"
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.

Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, "Here's my address,
write me a poem," deserves something in reply.
 
 

So I'll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.

Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn't understand why she was crying.
"I thought they had such beautiful eyes."
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he reinvented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding
in the eyes of the skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.

Maybe if we reinvent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.
And let me know.

- Naomi Shihab Nye
  in The Red Suitcase, Brockport, NY: BOA Editions, 1994.

No Faces

 Shelby

 As I am reading Visual Poetry, my new favorite photography book by Chris Orwig, I am also checking out the Flickr group the author has set up for readers to post pictures that connect with each chapter of his book. The project I worked on tonight was "No Faces". Often in a photograph we focus primarily on the face and aren't aware of other details in the photo. The "No Faces" exercise allows the photographer to notice other things about the person (or in my case also animals since JEJ got a bit weary of posing). This is what I created:

 Kit

 Junebug

holding on to  wisdom

 JEJ, the master of fried potatoes

news of the day