Shades of brown

Couch with bunny to match
;-)

1/100

"Hi. I'm Laura. Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure. What?"

This photograph was the favor I'd asked.
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I love people-watching. It's easy.

Approaching a stranger to ask for their photo is not.
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I'd been pacing up and down the boardwalk for nearly an hour, trying to get up the nerve to approach someone and ask. That in itself was a fun exercise... looking into people's faces for something interesting... imagining the stories one might tell if I worked up the courage to talk to them.

Most wouldn't even make eye contact.
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He'd said no the first time I asked. I smiled and thanked him, but didn't back away. We talked for a bit and eventually, I asked again. He agreed, reluctantly, wanting to remain anonymous. He relaxed enough to tell me about his street art; after thirty minutes or so I felt okay about taking out my camera. He never once froze, or smiled stiffly at me, or stopped talking. It felt kinda like magic, this thing that my camera let happen...
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How would you feel if a stranger approached you for a photo? What might make it enjoyable for you, or not?

So tell me... could you do it? Does the thought of photographing 100 strangers terrify you the way it does me?

It scares me. A lot. I'm shy! That's kinda how I know it's the right thing to do, the right direction to head in to stretch myself in unpredictable and meaningful ways. Once a week I'll try it. It's about photo-making yes, but more about stepping outside my own box and what feels comfortable to me. Maybe I'll get a good photo once in a while. Certainly I'll meet some interesting people who I never would otherwise. A camera is as good an excuse as any, I think.

Don't panic!

Probably I'll decide I hate it, too

This blog turned 4 this month

Change rejuvenates

I hope

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless, but by no means quiet.

;-)

Song of the wave

I'm about climbing the walls with it getting dark so early and having so little time outdoors most days.

I'm so bored I'm actually cooking!

;-)

And I'm reading some, which is nice to have the time for again. This evening I re-read my tattered copy of Khalil Gibran's The Prophet... which I first read back in high school. There's an essay of his about gardening that I've been searching for, and haven't yet found, but I did come across this beautiful poem by him online and thought I'd share it...

The strong shore is my beloved
And I am his sweetheart.
We are at last united by love, and
Then the moon draws me from him.
I go to him in haste and depart
Reluctantly, with many
Little farewells.

I steal swiftly from behind the
Blue horizon to cast the silver of
My foam upon the gold of his sand, and
We blend in melted brilliance.

I quench his thirst and submerge his
Heart; he softens my voice and subdues
My temper.
At dawn I recite the rules of love upon
His ears, and he embraces me longingly.

At eventide I sing to him the song of
Hope, and then print smooth hisses upon
His face; I am swift and fearful, but he
Is quiet, patient, and thoughtful. His
Broad bosom soothes my restlessness.

As the tide comes we caress each other,
When it withdraws, I drop to his feet in
Prayer.

Many times have I danced around mermaids
As they rose from the depths and rested
Upon my crest to watch the stars;
Many times have I heard lovers complain
Of their smallness, and I helped them to sigh.

Many times have I teased the great rocks
And fondled them with a smile, but never
Have I received laughter from them;
Many times have I lifted drowning souls
And carried them tenderly to my beloved
Shore. He gives them strength as he
Takes mine.

Many times have I stolen gems from the
Depths and presented them to my beloved
Shore. He takes them in silence, but still
I give fro he welcomes me ever.

In the heaviness of night, when all
Creatures seek the ghost of Slumber, I
Sit up, singing at one time and sighing
At another. I am awake always.

Alas! Sleeplessness has weakened me!
But I am a lover, and the truth of love
Is strong.
I may be weary, but I shall never die.

--Khalil Gibran

There's something that happens about midway through this poem that causes me to laugh quietly... I'm not really sure what it is, but I love the smile it brings to my face.

A limerick

A wonderful bird is the pelican

His bill will hold more than his belican

He can take in his beak

Food enough for a week

But I’m damned if I see how the helican

Can anyone see these birds and not smile?

Washing machine

Looking south from the Ocean Grove fishing pier

I was out this afternoon with my camera and all the other Looky-Lous to see what sort of havoc this week's nor'easter had wrought... the sea's still really angry-looking, but finally the wind's stopped howling.

End of weather report.

;-)