what if the calling crows think you are a makeshift scarecrow built for chasing them away from their dreams? will they peck at you with sharp beaks so far from my grasp? will I be able to run fast enough to save you? the shifting rice tells me to take a deep breath. this isn’t a cornfield and the cranes won’t hurt you. but grey skies mean trouble so run to me anyway my boy. mother needs you in her arms.
Shoebox Poetry: This is the fourth poem in my series based on an old box of photos I inherited when my grandmother died in 2004. The back of this photo reads “Gary in rice field Nov ’53.” It’s a photo of my dad, but it made me think of my own boy. He turned 18 in December and is finishing high school in a few months. This poem poured out instantly along with some tears. I guess I have some feelings.
Here are the other poems in the series if you missed them:
“The first mistake of art is to assume that it’s serious.”—Lester Bangs
Welcome to the fifth week of my #100DayProject. While last week my focus was on happiness and light, this week it has shifted to mistakes. The first two paintings of the week were such a mess I started to wonder why I’m even doing this. My inner critic grew fangs and I became insecure and super wobbly. I dramatically announced to my family that I was quitting painting because “I suck” and “it’s too hard.” My family said nothing, wisely, and I eventually sent myself to my room and reread the guidelines I wrote down in week one:
be messy and imprecise
have fun with the process
don’t overthink
don’t plan
don’t judge the finished painting
be brave
With these points in mind, I tried again. With the exception of the flowers, these are all outside my comfort zone. They are messy and a bit strange, but oddly I found myself relaxing more in the mess. I wonder where letting myself live in this jumbled mistake zone will lead me? I’ve got nine more weeks to find out. Let me know if you have a favorite painting or haiku and thanks for sticking with me as I figure out how to take myself less seriously.
#1 under the big top spring carnival awakes can you hear its call?
#2 pitter pat splatter colorful little clatter what does it matter?
#3 fingertip dancing fuzzy family photo dressed in regal green
#4 messy self-portrait hiding blue moon memories tomorrow brings sun
#5 tulips reaching high calling out your sacred name remember—be brave
“She knew that this silent, motionless portal opened into the street; if the sidelights had not been filled with green paper, she might have looked out on the little brown stoop and the well-worn brick pavement. But she had no wish to look out, for this would have interfered with her theory that there was a strange, unseen place on the other side—a place which became, to the child’s imagination, according to its different moods, a region of delight or terror.”-Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady
This week my assignment for the 52 photo challenge was to capture sidelight. After looking online for several days at examples of this concept, I decided I wanted to try my hand at artsy portrait shots. My daughter generously agreed to be my model and we spent a delightful afternoon playing with light.
The majority of the shots were taken in our green bathroom using a flashlight and a gold reflector, but a few were taken using the natural light of our front window. Although these photos are very different than my normal ones, I love them. Not only do they showcase the beauty of my gorgeous daughter, but they forever will be a reminder of our time together.
I’ve written a lot about her struggles, but not nearly enough about how lucky I am to have this time with her. We spend our days orbiting around each other and it’s a treasure I didn’t know I’d have at this time in my life. While everything isn’t always easy, loving her is. She gave me permission to share these photos and I hope you enjoy them as much as we do.
Let me know if you have a favorite and have a wonderful week!
#1#2#3#4#5#6#7#8#9#10
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
If you want to join the 52 Photo Challenge, you can find all the information at nicolesy.com
I am dancing yellow flowers moss growing on a cracked boulder dragonfly battles waged through cattail forests sleeping rocks tucked beneath rotted boards wide-winged hawks quietly circling prey
I am daring spring sunshine fields of green miner’s lettuce wet with dew twisted trees reflected in muddy puddles colorful floral crowns skipping around a maypole teeny tiny frogs in a toddler’s hand
I am dandelion fluff wishes bubbles caught in a spiraling spider web fat white clouds pressing through a rainbow afternoons spent reading in a hammock soft rabbits hiding among wild buttercups
I am lively starry jubilation moon struck open-armed happiness deep water thick-boned delight galaxy swirling sweet poetry madness freckle-faced daisy ringed freedom
Shoebox Poetry: This is the third poem in my series based on an old box of photos I inherited when my grandmother died in 2004. I love the joy in this photo and I hope my words match its beauty and grace. Happy first week of spring!
“We’re all ghosts. We all carry, inside us, people who came before us.” -Liam Callanan
I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandmothers lately. Both of them were strong ladies filled with secrets and heartache. Neither of them lived a happy and fulfilled life. They passed onto me a restlessness and a sharp sadness I feel in my bones.
I don’t have a place to visit them, so for our photography lesson today I took my daughter and mother to our small local cemetery. It was a peaceful morning and I walked around thinking about what legacy I will leave my children. How do I want them to remember me?
I keep coming back to the idea that they need to see me happy. It’s by far the greatest gift I can give them—a legacy of peacefulness and joy. They need to see me publish my book, be active and strong, and cultivate my own happiness. I want to leave them a legacy far different than the one passed onto me. I have work to do.
It’s not my photography day, but I want to share these photos with you anyway. I edited them boldly, exaggerating the colors, and I hope you find something interesting in them.
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
“Accept yourself, love yourself, and keep moving forward. If you want to fly, you have to give up what weighs you down.”-Roy T. Bennett
Welcome to the fourth week of my #100DayProject. Before we get to the watercolors, I want to share with you a moment of self-discovery I had this morning while journaling. Although I’ve had similar “aha” moments in the past, this time it feels a bit deeper. Maybe you’ll relate.
As a parent we want our kids to have the very best lives. We want them to thrive and be happy. Both my kids are struggling. My son still deals with the effects of two major accidents and my daughter has serious mental health struggles. This has taken from my kids “normal” teenage milestones like getting their driver’s license or attending prom. The picture I had of their teenage years is nothing like what we are experiencing and it breaks my heart. I often don’t know what to do.
These feelings have led me to internalize the belief that their struggles are entirely my fault. I tell myself that if I was a “better” mother they wouldn’t be facing such obstacles. I blame myself so deeply for everything that it’s become a catalyst for self-destructive behavior. I’m not eating right or caring for my body. I’m not nurturing my marriage or my friendships. I’m not even writing like I was.
I keep trying to restart everything, but I can’t seem to do it. This is where the big “aha” happened for me this morning. The reason I’m failing is I’ve decided I deserve to be punished. I failed as a mother and therefore I deserve to be miserable. After all, how can I be happy if my children are not? How can I continue to pursue my dreams when my kids are hurting? Isn’t that selfish? Isn’t that wrong?
Of course, it’s not. I need to lead my family by example. Taking care of my body and meeting my goals will inspire my family and give me more energy to face everything. Allowing the weight of the world to press me down doesn’t help anyone. It seems like such a simple thing to realize, but at the same time, it feels enormous. I’m not sure how to translate this into action yet, but it feels like a wobbly step in the right direction.
Now, let’s talk about watercolor! This week I focused on happiness and light—things I’m seeking to call into my life again. My painting time has become a great counterbalance to the heavy stuff I’ve been processing in my journal. My skill level has remained the same, but I’m okay with that. Right now it’s not about growth—it’s about survival and joy.
I’d love to know if you can relate to my story or have a favorite painting or haiku. Thanks for following my blog and for always cheering me on. Happy Wednesday!
#1 magical forest dancing brightly in my dreams help me stand taller
#2 golden shiny sun deep within my mystic core heal my broken heart
#3 budding shamrock luck shimmy shimmy sway and shake boogie down spring street
#4 blurry-eyed flowers wake from their long winter rest see them jump and play
“The dawn was apple-green, The sky was green wine held up in the sun, The moon was a golden petal between.
She opened her eyes, and green They shone, clear like flowers undone For the first time, now for the first time seen.”-D. H. Lawrence
This week my assignment for the 52 photo challenge was to capture something green. My mother, daughter, and I caught a break between storms and took pictures along the American River and in downtown Folsom. It was a lovely day with plenty of green things to catch my eye. We all needed this time together.
Things with my daughter are hard. Last night we went to see the brilliant film “Everything Everywhere All at Once” for a second time and it struck me how much the battle I’m fighting with my daughter’s mental illness is like that horrible black bagel. Her brain tells her so many lies I often feel like I’m at war with her mental illness. Maybe I need to find a way to download some kick-ass martial arts skills or, better yet, find a way to wield my kindness like a weapon.
I sobbed last night in the kitchen for a solid five minutes and then pulled myself back together. What we are doing isn’t working well enough. I’m calling her mental health team again today and asking for more help. I’m exhausted, but I’m hopeful. To quote the film, “When I choose to see the good side of things, I’m not being naive. It is strategic and necessary. It’s how I learned to survive through everything.” I also love this quote, “The only thing I do know is that we have to be kind. Please, be kind. Especially when we don’t know what’s going on.”
Thank you to everyone who reads my blog and spreads kindness. Your comments mean the world to me. Let me know what photo you like best this week. I’m quite partial to the little mushrooms (#2) and the weird cactus-looking weed (#5). I got muddy for both shots but totally worth it. Have a wonderful week!
#1#2#3#4#5#6#7#8#9#10
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
If you want to join the 52 Photo Challenge, you can find all the information at nicolesy.com
You carve our names “E+K” into the ancient oak behind your daddy’s church in hopes I’ll see, but I’ve grown tired of playing your endless
games. My drawers overflow with your teeny-tiny top-secret messages penned on newspaper scraps— “I miss you,” “meet me behind the old Bulto Market,”
and “kiss me, dearest Kate, I’m dying for you.” Just words. I need more than blue-eyed winks and brief hidden embraces. My love needs
sunshine—warm, bright, radiating fire so vibrant it can’t be stoppered or hidden. Explosive volcano love, running thick down our bodies. Popcorn love, loud hot
buttery passion devoured with both hands. Instead, you give me your blurry photograph standing at 301 Caroline Street, our secret kissing place. You write in
sweeping curvy letters “this is not very clear, but it’s still me. Eddie.” Blurry love is what you offered, thinking I’d accept, but I deserve
someone who wants our love to be broadcasted, shouted, screamed into the streets. Bullhorn loud love. Free to be me love. So, I chased you
onto the old bridge, calling out through hot tears, “choose all of me or none of me.” The bright moonlight stretched my dark shadow so
it covered you entirely as you walked away without looking back. My young love never wavered, but yours wasn’t brave enough to fight. It’s funny
now, finding your thoughtless dare scrawled in ink, “see how long you can keep this.” I kept it forever, blurry Eddie. Not for you, though
for me.
I stayed in focus.
Shoebox Poetry: This is the second poem in my series based on an old box of photos I inherited when my grandmother died in 2004. I don’t have any idea who Eddie was, but I wanted to rewrite a possible old love story as a moment of empowerment for my grandmother. She was a fierce woman and I like to think she kept this photograph as a reminder of her strength. If someone out there happens to know Eddie, sorry. This is pure fiction and I’m sure he is/was a lovely man.
“All you really need to do is accept this moment fully. You are then at ease in the here and now and at ease with yourself.”-Eckhart Tolle
Welcome to the third week of my #100DayProject. While I started watercolor painting as a way to combat my perfectionism, it has become an important part of my morning ritual. I use the early morning hours to process my emotions and combat my anxiety. Watercolors have blended into my routine so easily that it feels as if I’ve been doing it far longer than 21 days.
Things I discovered this week:
Start every painting with a wash of light color
Taping the paper to the board is highly satisfying
Pulling off the tape is equally satisfying
I work best when I have a source image
I need to accept my limitations
Although I’m still enjoying the painting process, my skill level is limiting my creativity. My challenge going forward will be to see what happens after I accept this uncomfortable feeling. Thanks for following me on another adventure and being so supportive. Let me know if you have a favorite painting or haiku. I love hearing from you.
#1 fuzzy purple dears hazy purple cloudy years don’t forget to breathe
#2 snowy wonderland pine-scented fantasy world come get lost with me
#3 fall with me, Alice down another rabbit hole where purple skies sing
#4 something calls to me in the ancient borogoves do you hear it too?
“Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?” -William Blake
This week my assignment for the 52 photo challenge was to capture something with symmetry. Although it’s such a simple concept, I found it extremely challenging. I started out looking for mirrored images and reflections, but every image I took felt flat and boring. My perfectionist’s brain was narrowing my vision and I just couldn’t find anything that worked.
My solution—take more photos and think less. The bottles above are a great example. While they seem to contain a symmetrical quality to me, they do have variations in shade and labels. Do they still work? I’m not sure. Does it matter? Not really. The idea of this challenge is to train my eye to look for different elements in a photo. By this definition, I’m doing just fine.
These photos were taken on a rainy day in downtown Lincoln and on the road to and from Camp Far West with my mom and daughter. Let me know which shot you think best uses the concept of symmetry and which is your favorite. Have a wonderful week!
#1#2#3#4#5#6#7#8#9#10
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
If you want to join the 52 Photo Challenge, you can find all the information at nicolesy.com
Bridgette Tales 