25 Photographic Truths

This is probably only funny to fellow photographers, but I'll post it anyway, because it makes me laugh. This is from an out-of-print poster by photographer Ted Orland, who worked with Ansel Adams. The text accompanies an image of a not-amused Ansel Adams taking a grade school class portrait (hey, even the greats have to earn a living some way). Orland promises to come out with a new poster soon, with updates regarding the digital world, and I hope he does, because I've searched high and low for a copy of the original and can't find one.

25 PHOTOGRAPHIC TRUTHS
1. The best scenic views are clearly designated by highway signs reading NO STOPPING ANYTIME.

2. Edward Steichen owned a three-legged dog, which he named Tripod.

3. The Post Office folds all parcels containing photographs.

4. Camera straps never fail above soft surfaces.

5. Lens caps and cable releases can become invisible at will.

6. Spotone bottles are designed to tip over when the cap is removed.

7. Financial success in photography is directly related to proper choice of subject matter. Falling airplanes, exploding volcanoes, and certain Presidential motorcades work best.

8. No two light meters agree.

9. The work "Daguerreotype" cannot be spelled correctly.

10. A new Hasselblad would take better pictures than your present camera.

11. 1/60 at f/8 is the correct exposure for all photographs.

12. When your friends finally realize that you are a true artist, committed to making sensitive and meaningful images, they will ask you to photograph their wedding.

13. Color slide viewing cures insomnia.

14. On any tripod, only two legs work properly.

15. Dust spots are attracted to sky areas.

16. YES, PHOTOGRAPHERS DO IT IN THE DARK... but they have to stop every thirty seconds to agitate.

17. There's nothing wrong with a 35mm that a 4x5 can't cure.

18. Ansel Adams had three Secret Zones known only to him.

20. Fast films compensate for slow photographers.

21. Mounting a photograph is a misdemeanor in Arkansas.

22. Owning more than one lens assures that you will always have the wrong lens on the camera for any given picture.

23. A camera store will charge $75 to repair a camera that has been adjusted with a butter knife.

24. Falling lenses are attracted to rocks.

25. Into every life a little grain must fall.

Here's another old image of mine. Yeah, it's a few years old, but it's a favorite to a few people and posting a few old images at a time will eventually get all my best work up on the blog.

Blue Chairs, Old San Juan

With friends like these...

Lunched with my lovely ARC pals, Bootsie and Muffy, which aren't their real names, but in an effort to maintain some anonymity for them it's what I decided to call them here in Blogland. You can determine for yourself which one is Bootsie and which one is Muffy, and let me know what you think. It doesn't matter, really. You could even name them whatever you want for all I care.

We went to Nobu's, which is an excellent sushi joint in an old IHOP. Top notch sushi, and Nobu himself greets you with a smile from behind the sushi bar as you enter. Bootsie and Muffy and I have been eating there regularly for some months, and we always have a blast.

The most recent conversation included these topics:

• Things to do around the Lou that haven't been done before.
• How many shakes/malts one person could feasibly consume at Crown Candy Kitchen in one hour.
• Crayola crayons and color differences between lavender and periwinkle, whether or not we like Burnt Sienna, and how we were cheated with the metallics, because even though silver, gold and copper all look really cool as crayons, they don't actually draw those colors, and are clumpy to boot.
• Various gnat control devices and services.
• How boring Washington, Missouri is.
• How boring Hannibal is, or is not, depending on who you are. And how you're a literary shitwit if you haven't read Mark Twain. That's for you, Bootsie.
• The merits of working at a spa versus a not-for-profit.
• The smell of Play-Doh, and whether it was smart for Hasbro to release a perfume, Eau d'Play Doh, in honor of its anniversary. The debate: does Play-Doh smell like salt? And what does salt smell like, really? Play-Doh, of course.
• How much things change and how much they stay the same.
• The carrying of ones in (apparently) complicated mathmatical addition problems. Do you need to "manually" carry the one, or can you "do it in your head?" All three of us need to manually carry the one, as was evidenced by the 20+ minutes it took for us to divide the bill appropriately. By the end of our endeavor, two napkins and three paper chopstick sleeves had fallen prey to our numerical scribblings and bibblings, and various writing instruments lay in disarray around the table. We were exhausted and forced to return to our respective workplaces for some mental relaxation.

Because I'm an active blogger now, and have an "excuse" to make images, I dragged the Big Dog Camera with the Mac Daddy Lens to Nobu's and got some shots of my buds. Of course, they gave me nine kinds of hell over the size of my gear, but isn't that what friends are for? In return, I'm posting these flattering shots of Bootsie.

I love you guys!

Wow

Here are some images I made on Memorial Day, when we went to visit Grandpa and Judy. A lovely day, relaxing, with Dad manning the grill (just one of his many, many talents), topped off by gigantic slices of fresh watermelon. Ahhh, summer is finally here!

Zozo had a blast, too, alternately trying to pull the designs off Judy's shirt and the hair out of Judy's head. A good sport, Judy, she grinned and bore it with all the patience in the world.

Life is pretty darn good. I'm sitting here, blogging away, with a cat resting on my stomach (which means I'm getting a "cat scan" according to Papa), my beautiful babe sleeps soundly in her crib after a fun night playing with Mommy and Daddy, and my husband makes us smoothies with fresh fruit. Cardinals baseball on the radio, and fresh sheets on the bed. Don't you sleep better when you have fresh, crisp sheets on the bed? It's like when you get new tennis shoes and you can run faster and jump higher.

Well, the Cards just lost, so life got incrementally worse, but not so much that anyone would notice, really. We've turned off KTRS (hate everyone on there but Rooney and Shannon) and now have some Daniel MacKenzie playing on the Mac. For those of you not familiar with Daniel MacKenzie, I highly recommend you take a listen. He's kinda folksy, kinda soft rock, kinda jazzy. I discovered him through a review on NPR and finally, finally, Amazon started carrying his CD, A Complete Unknown. He's one of my favorite "unknown" artists.

For those of you out there wondering, yes, M is working diligently on his plans for the 2006 Christmas Display. Thaaaaat's right. It's May, and we're thinkin' Christmas in the Z house. Most of ya'all aren't even thinking about Christmas, but my husband, aka Clark Griswold or "Sparky," thinks about it year-round.

It's a nice arrangement we have, M and I, with our hobbies. I mess with images and blog, and he plans, calculates, measures, estimates, and configures. And somewhere at Ameren there is a Mr. Burns-esque figure tapping his fingers together, "Excellent."

My Brooks Jensen portfolio came in the mail today. The prints are just gorgeous. The two singles are propped up on the mantel for enjoyment, and the portfolio has been admired and will be pored over more in-depth later (after hands are thoroughly washed, of course).

Found an ad in my PDN (Photo District News for those of you not living in the World of Photography like I am), that had a great headline: To a photographer, if a day goes by without doing something related to photography, something essential to existence has been ignored.

That's a pretty succinct way to sum up how I feel about photography. I may not be able to make images every day, but I can do something related to my passion, be it visiting photo.net, reading one of my favorite photography magazines, or, now, posting even old images to my blog. Sometimes I just look through magazines or on the Internet for images that make my breath catch in my throat...that make me go, "Wow." Images like that inspire me to keep making my own images, in the hopes that some day, someone else will look at my work, feel a catch, and whisper, "Wow."

Thanksgiving on Memorial Day

It's Memorial Day, and tonight we watched "We Were Soldiers."

If war in reality is even remotely close to what we watched tonight (I suspect it is much worse), I would like to say this:

To all soldiers everywhere, past, present and future, fighting for freedom and democracy, and to their families...I am deeply humbled and awed by the amazing sacrifice you make every day for the rest of us. You have my deepest gratitude and respect. Thank you, and God bless you.

The WaterBug

Today was Zoe's first day swimming, and she got along swimmingly. Aunt Katie handed her to Daddy in the pool, while Mommy took pictures, and from the minute she hit the water she was happy as a clam. Mike took her for a few laps around the pool, dipping her in and out, before finally placing her in the turtle float that Grammy had very wisely purchased for her. She loved it.

She "drove" her turtle all around the pool, kicking those fat little legs to beat all heck. At one point, she reclined and just enjoyed floating. I think our Doodlebug is a little WaterBug. Here is the photographic take from today's very enjoyable mini-vacation at Grammy and Papa's. I'd write more, and be more creative, but I'm dog tired. Ya'all are lucky you're getting these images so quickly.

Many thanks to Grammy, Papa and G.G. for giving us a wonderful day! We had a blast and hope you did, too! And praise be to the heavens for the rock wall/pool/concrete/barbecue pit/everything else finally being done. It was a long time coming, but it's beautiful and will be much enjoyed this summer.

Joey, Grammy and Zoe at "Camp Grandma"

Our Gran, small but mighty.

Uncle Shawn and Aunt Katie.
Save the date: the wedding is February 3, 2007!

Zoe hangs out with Daddy.

Miss Hollywood, getting ready for her dip in the pool.

Zoe sails away. The End.

Every Kohl's in the Midwest in one day!

Today was spent running hither and yon, which makes me so glad that this is a three-day weekend and we'll have some downtime after all. This morning started off with a Sears repairman out to look at the pedistal drawer under our washer - third repairman in a couple of months. Bottom line: our new drawer was ordered today. Then Zoe had her bath, and it was off to Target, then the pediatrician. Zoe weighs 18 lbs, 2 oz, and is 27 inches long. Oh yeah, and the circumference of her head is 17 inches, just in case you were wondering. I know I've been on pins and needles for days, wondering what it is now. She's healthy as can be (thank God!) and Dr. F was impressed that she exhibited no signs of stranger-anxiety, which is usually in full swing by this time.

From there we stopped by My Favorite Camera Store (yay!), where I blew all my gift certificates on ink and paper (booo!). I could spend hours, no days, in that store. I could blow some serious amounts of cash in that store. Today, though, I only wiped out three gift certificates and $5.08 in cash. I think that's the cheapest amount I ever spent there.

From there it was home to feed The Bug, and drop off the Target and photo stuff. Back on the road, with a fine cuisine luncheon at La Taco Bell. Then it was off to our first Kohl's of the day, where I tried on some shorts and tops. It seems that I haven't shopped for "regular-girl" shorts and summer tops in quite awhile. My last summer purchases, after all, were for "pregnant girl."

Sidebar note: M is currently watching, with rapt attention, the idiots at the casino doing karaoke. What broadcast puke ever thought this makes good TV? Right now some hick-looking woman is belting out "Unchain My Heart," and she's flat as can be. I can't sing, but at least I know it and don't get up on stage in a public place. At least when I'm sober. I confine my singing to the car, usually when I'm alone, but sometimes in front of M. We've also been known to belt out some Van Halen or Aerosmith together.

So anyway, I tried on about a million-million pairs of shorts, and purchased some (far less than a million-million), and then we left and went to our second Kohl's, where I tried on another million pairs of shorts and bought some of those. M and Z did laps around the store, and at some point Z thought it'd be a blast to toss her burp cloth over the side of the stroller surrepitiously. She then got a kick as her daddy did more laps just looking for the stupid thing.

From there it was on to Sam's. Had fun watching all the people walk out with things like entire carts full of buns and soft pretzels, and beer. Lots and lots of beer. Seems we Americans like to enjoy our Memorial Day Weekend in a drunken stupor.

Back home to unload the groceries (and beer), to feed Z and to put her down for a nap. Then I re-tried on all my clothes so I could get M's opinion, and we sorted them into two piles: keep and "good lord, what were you thinking? wasn't there a mirror in that dressing room? those have to go back."

On to dinner at Sweet Tomato's (or, as our former vice president might spell it, Sweet Tomatoe's) and then our third (yes, third) Kohl's to return the shorts I didn't keep. From there we went to Grandma Frank's just to hang out and let Z roll around on the floor. That's her favorite thing to do these days...roll around. She's up on all fours and in the rocking position quite a bit, but she hasn't quite gotten the actual crawling thing down.

Now we're home, and I'm writing what has got to be the most insanely boring post ever submitted to a blog (I just may lose readers with this stinker) and M is channel surfing. Thankfully he could only take a moment of the flat singer at the casino. I believe now he's lighted on SNL, which in our opinion hasn't truly been good since Eddie Murphy was on.

He wants on the 'puter, to do some surfing in regards to the '06 Christmas Display. Yes, that's right. He's been planning. He's actually been planning year-round for, oh, probably about 34 years now. I better let him on...it makes him happy and that's important, because if Daddy ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Will have new pictures to post after tomorrow. It's Zoe's first time swimming and we're going to Grammy and Papa's for the day.

Heeeere kitty kitty kitty

I got nuthin' right now. Really. I went to lunch with my soon-to-be-a-Coloradoan friend (is that a word? It is now!), and I'm just totally bummed that we didn't do more lunches before now.

It was nice to find out, however, that my husband isn't the only husband who responds in very humorous ways to cat barf.

Apparently, both hubbies have been known to a.) chase the kitty around the house, holding a newspaper or paper towel or just about anything they can get their hands on under the cat's chin, encouraging the kitty to, "Come on! You can throw up right there! Right there! Not on the carpet!" and b.) sprint at warp speed just to get to aforementioned hacking kitty and launch it into the bathroom, where the barf will then land on the easier-to-clean-than-carpet tile floor.

Now, for those of you out there who aren't cat people, a little explanation. When a cat pukes, it doesn't just get a furball and upchuck. No, it takes careful planning and detailed execution by the cat to always hit the one carpeted area in the house. If they can't get to the carpet, furniture will do. Also, if you happen to be around, you get fair warning. The retching starts, which sounds a bit like a...well, I don't know what it sounds like. I can't come up with anything similar. It sounds like a cat getting ready to throw up. If you want to hear it, come to my house and hang out for about thirty seconds, because that's how often Tachi barfs. Anyway, so the cat starts retching, and you've got some time to get to it, but only if you act quickly.

So, essentially, my husband (and my friend's husband) have honed their cat-like reflexes to sprint on a nano-second's notice to the rescue of our barfing kitties.

This is just one of many, many reasons why we loooooove them. Our husbands. Not the cats. Though we love them too. Just not as much. You know.

The New Black

Halleluja, praise the Lord! Amy remembered to bring her Camera Store gift certificates to work today so she can get some frikkin' ink and print over the weekend!

Let's see...I need me some light magenta, some cyan, and probably light black.

My printer takes three kinds of black ink. Photo black, which is for glossy paper. Matte black, which is, obviously, for matte paper. And light black. Which is not to be confused with gray. It's not gray. If it were gray they would call it gray. It's light black.

So in my quest for ever-new photography gear, I perused the B&H Photo catalog that came in this week's mail, drooling over the new technology, specifically, a flash. M caught me and asked, "Good grief...what do you need now?" Just to tweak him, which isn't nice but I can't seem to help myself, I replied, "Well, my camera is a D100. Now they have a D200. It's gotta be better. It's 200 instead of 100." He rolled his eyes, "What does it do that yours doesn't?" "Let's see...it's 10.2 megapixels. Mine's only 6.1." I thought he was gonna have a heart attack.

He asked whether it makes a big difference, and would our printer even be able to tell the difference between 6.1 and 10.2 megapixels. I said probably not, and therefore we should probably look at upgrading the printer, too.

I think this is why he has gray in his hair. Just a guess.

So, just for fun, I looked at the new printers. Turns out that Epson has a fancier-schmancier printer than my beat up ol' 2200. (My printer is neither old nor beat-up, but if I start laying the groundwork with M now, maybe in a few years I can upgrade. Wink wink.) The new printer takes THREE black inks. I presume these are dark black, medium black, and light black.

Seriously, how many blacks can the human eye actually distinguish? With clothes, yeah, you can tell. Because your new black shirt is never quite as black after you wash it. And by five or six washings, you can start to look downright dingy. With photographs, someone like me, who is also known as Ms. Pickypants and who loves to scrutinize images with a giant loupe, will see all those different gradients. But I'd pretty much guarantee everyone I know who will see my images would probably be perfectly happy with just one black.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to start really looking at black. Try to decide if what you're looking at is a dark black, medium black, or light black. No one really gives a shit, but you just might start noticing things you hadn't before.

"Oh where, oh where, has my little dog gone..

Oh where oh where can he beeee? With his ears cut short and his tail cut long, oh where oh where can he beee? Woof woof!"

Another thing they don't tell you when you become a parent, is that you get children's songs and lullabies stuck in your head for hours on end.

Don't know which is worse...this one from Tad, or the refrain from Zoe's singing Leap Frog globe (many thanks to Auntie Stef for providing that one).

All's quiet in the office today, as my office-mates are all out of town. So I can sing children's songs and lullabies to my heart's content while I work and no one will be the wiser. Except you all.

Mamasan is having a rough day, so Beans and I are taking her to lunch. For now, it's back to making my signs introducing Diamond Tip Microdermabrasion. I'm changin' the world here, one pore at a time.

Alas, no Rock-o-Plane tonight.

Well, the weather held out for our parish picnic tonight, which was great, but unfortunately M's horrible allergies sidelined him for the Rock-o-Plane. He just didn't feel up to it. Our nephew Joey had a blast, though, riding just about everything but the Rock-o-Plane. Your time will come, young Jedi.

I got some decent shots...am loving the shutter priority on the D100. Because of that, I was able to shoot hand-held at 1/60 of a second, no flash, in rapidly fading light. I'm not a big fan of flash. Makes everyone look like Gloria Swanson channeling Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard. But I digress. Here are some of the better images, along with certain observations I had about the rides.

Before he took off for the rides, Joey stopped for a quick pose with his cousin, Doodlebug.

Here's Joe, piloting his spaceship with Anonymous Child #1. The spaceships were pretty cool, but notice the guns on the front, which totally looked like an after-market add-on. It's the carnival equivalent of putting 18" rims on an '89 Buick. This ride went around in circles, so essentially you shoot at the children in front of you, who shoot at the children in front of them, and so on. No one really wins, but everyone goes home with some shrapnel.

After the spaceships, Joe got on the what I like to call the Children's Monster Truck Rally. The blonde in the back is Anonymous Child #2 (the Carnival Amusement Specialists are big on packin' 'em in). She was cute as a button, not that you can tell from this image since she's intently steering left even though the ride has not yet begun. True to St. Louis form, though, every child in these cars laid on his or her horn while waiting for traffic to move. We train our younguns here real early. Hey, is it just me, or does that truck have not one, not two, not three, but FOUR steering wheels?

Great shot of Grammy and Joe on the Ferris, and ya'all can thank me with cash for cropping the 500 lb. Ferris Rotator Specialist from this image.

Zoe's favorite ride was this, her stroller, because it was the only ride she was tall enough to be allowed on due to those pesky local, state and federal safety regulations. And since we're not Britney Spears and K-Fed, we actually follow safety recommendations for our baby. Anyway, Beans and I had a great discussion about easy ways to bling out Zoe's ride (spinners on the wheels, tinting the plastic "window" on the canopy), but her Daddy nixed 'em. Party pooper. I think if his allergies weren't so bad, we'd have had a chance.

I have a ton more shots, but it's late and I'm tired and I really need to go to bed now to avoid another day of being Mrs. Crankypants. Thanks to everyone at church for putting on one helluva carnival, and to our families for sharing this special evening with us. I might post more shots from this evening tomorrow. Then again, I might not. It's my blog and I can do what I want. So there. Nyah. G'night!

Hi, I'm Mrs. Crankypants. Nice to meet you.

Yes, yes. The foul mood continues. Although it shouldn't. The sun is still out so far (keep your fingers crossed for the picnic tonight). I've just finished a perfectly delightful frozen Weight Watchers pizza (topped with, apparently, a healthy dose of sarcasm). I'm receiving positive feedback about the blog. I remembered to wear a kicky little scarf today. At 2:30 this afternoon I'm receiving a complimentary facial from a new esthetician here at the spa. All is right with the world, yes?

So why am I so cranky? I think I'll blame in on the whole "it can take up to a year after giving birth for your hormones to stabilize" theory. Yeah, that's it. That's the ticket. My hormones. Somebody alert Tom Cruise that I need some vitamins. Thaaaat's right. I spit. Because whenever someone utters Tom Cruise's name I spit. Can't stand that guy. Brooke Shields ought to bean him in the head with a giant bottle of Paxil. Anyway, I'm really gonna be up a creek after Zozo's first birthday when I can't use that excuse anymore. "What do you mean, PMS doesn't run all month/year/decade long?!"

Hooooo! Maybe it's a good thing I don't own a phaser. I'd have probably stunned a few innocent bystanders by now.

Forgot my gift certificates to My Favorite Camera Store again this morning, which means I can't run out over lunch to pick up some new ink cartridges. Which means I can't print any photographs for another day. Grrrr. Damn them for not being open at night or on Sunday!

So, because of all that, YOU, darling readers, get to hear me rant and rave about absolutely nothing in particular. Thankfully my num lock has remained on today. Heaven help us all if I hit that button without realizing it.

Perhaps a few more photos of The Bug will help. She always cheers me up right quick. Here are some oldies but goodies.

Mama said there'd be days like this, there'd be days like this my mama said

Ugh. Late night last night (not due to Zoe Grace), early morning today. My barista offered me a lovely smile (she looked like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz) and a delectable mocha, so it's getting better. The yellow brick road is always a little easier with a frothy hot mocha (decaf grande non-fat no-whip, thank you).

Just a little grouchy this a.m. No particular reason. Just because I can be.

Rain in the forecast for the parish picnic. Blech.

I've created a monster at home with this blog. M's new favorite hobby is to make a smart-alecky comment, laugh his butt off, then follow that with, "Stick THAT in your blog!" He cracks himself up.

There is a Star Trek auction coming up at Christie's in New York. I'm so tempted to buy myself a phaser. I'd leave it set to stun most days, I think. For those of you who don't know my family very well, please be advised that I knew nothing of Star Trek until I started dating M. Suddenly I was introduced to the world of phasers, tricorders (those things rock!) and tribbles. I consider myself a lay-trekkie. I know just enough to be dangerous. And to have a crush on Jean-Luc Picard.

Shout out to the little sis, Beans, to let her know that I love her so very much, and I'll always be here for her, and that she's just the coolest little sis that anyone could ask for. You're going through a tough time, kiddo, but I promise it'll get better. Bing Bong!

Rubber Duckie...You're The One...

As promised, here are pix of Zoe enjoying her bath.

Num Lock

You know what really freaks me out? When I inadvertently hit "Num Lock" on my keyboard and suddenly the number keys on the right side of the keyboard don't work anymore. I spend about 30 seconds hyperventilating and trying to figure out why weird things happen when I use those keys (I am addicted to those keys...the numbers across the top of the keyboard are worthless and should only be used for the special little symbols above the numbers) and then I finally realize, "Ohhhhh, my num lock is off!" Which, thankfully, I did not say out loud, keeping my officemates/family members from becoming alarmed that something is seriously wrong with me.

By sheer happenstance (or did she plan it?!) a friend gave me the link to her own blog today, and I happily perused it and learned so much more about her than I ever knew. Unfortunately, two things happened as a result. 1.) I'm even more sad that she's moving to Colorado next month, and 2.) I've become painfully aware of just how cool and creative her blog is, and how mine is spent, so far anyway, talking about my husband's sour stomach after an amusement park ride several years ago, and num lock.

So, to make up for how inadequate my musings are, I shall insert a photograph of my impossibly adorable child.

Because it's fun.

Tomorrow night is our church picnic. Mike and his dad are planning to ride the Rock-o-Plane, otherwise known as the Eggroll. I prefer to call it The Spinning Wheel of Death. We hit the picnic at Mary Magdalene on Saturday, simply so they could ride the Rock-o-Plane there. Mike didn't take his Dramamine in enough time, so of course he felt queasy afterwards. It wasn't a replay of the Top Gun episode at King's Island a few years ago (thank God), but it was touch and go there for awhile. Although if you ask him about that he'll proudly tell you, "Hey, it was a clean hurl!"

I asked him, "Why do you ride these things when you know you're going to get sick?" He replied, "Because it's fun." He's a big kid, and I hope he always stays that way. Here's a shot of him and Dad before the ride, when he was feelin' fine and ready for some barf-inducing fun.





And here's a shot of Zoe, questioning why her Daddy likes to abuse himself.


I finally got around to photographing Zoe in her bath last night, but I don't have the images dumped into the Mac yet. Was glad I was using the zoom, because I'm pretty sure that bubbly water doesn't go well with a digital SLR. Daddy took over washing her while I made images, so I've got some with him, too, which is good because people at work have been asking me for pictures of my husband. I just show them our wedding picture, which is pretty true to life since he hasn't changed much in the 8 1/2 years we've been married. He still actually gets carded. I should be so lucky. I didn't get carded when I was 21!

We remembered to run the dishwasher last night, so we're feeling like Parents of the Year again.

Uh oh. I've just e-mailed everyone in my address book. And asked them to come here.

Well, the deed is done. I've now alerted everyone to the fact that I have a blog. Which means I have to update my blog. With photographs of Zoe. Which means I actually have to make photographs of Zoe.

I go in spurts. I'm particularly inspired to shoot right now, though, due to my Mother's Day gift from Zoe and Michael. They have ordered a portfolio of photographs from one of my favorite photographers, Brooks Jensen. He's got a link over there in my links section. They ordered me "October Seas," which contains some truly breathtaking images shot on the Oregon coast. It's beautiful...I suggest you check it out if you have a few moments.

M's coming back in, which means I'm about ready to get booted off my computer. I'll try to write more later.

Sometimes we get the feeling she knows something we don't.
And she thinks it's funny.

This is so her Daddy's smile.

If only we could all be this happy, all the time.

Grammy and Papa came to visit on Sunday.

Introduction

Wowee zowee...I'm now officially a blogger. Damn. Took me long enough, eh? So, yeah, um, welcome! Still trying to figure out how I'm gonna use this, but most likely it'll be a Big Blog of Zoe Pix. Not to totally bore everyone out of their gourd, but she's the best subject of my life so far, and I'm really into the whole "make images of something you love" concept. Besides, e-mailing out a link to this has got to be easier than sending a million e-mails with a million-million images attached. I'm sure friends and family will thank me to the end of time for not clogging up/bogging down their e-mail systems.

I'll try to post images of my art stuff, too, but keep in mind I haven't shot much since the whole pregnancy-birth thing. Being a parent takes up way more time than they tell you.

I might also use this to keep ya'all posted as to what's going on in the Z house, which is usually quite humorous and never, ever boring.

Observation/Kudos of the Day: even after a relatively relaxing weekend, we can still forget to run the dishwasher (very necessary for those pesky bottle things) and take baby food to Grandma's for Zozo. Good to know we're intelligent, organized, prepared human beings with fried brains. Thanks to Grandma for being on top of things and making sure our child, her grandchild, gets fed! At least someone's thinkin'!