Higgledy Piggledy

I love finging quirky places.  Tucked away corners that have found a use.  This little gem of a doorway was just off a main street in Stromness on Orkney.  An awkward spot made to fit. All angles and reused wood.  I love the worn paint and henges.  The palette and whimsy suits be very well.  That's one of the reasons I love travelling with my camera and bringing these bits home with me.

Go There or Then in a Book

I'm sure we've discussed my love of reading in the past. I was time travelling again today in a book. I slipped back in time as I read then surged forward as my phone dinged. Then eased back again to pick up the story. I didn't need a time machine, just a well written story and a willingness to go there. I did and I will, go there every chance I get. What are you reading?

Dreams of Flight

I'd fly with you, if I only could
said the little porcelain bird

to deep blue pools and far off sands
in dreams we'd never land

I'd fly with you, if I just could
my one true feathered friend

I realized again today why I enjoy making photographs so much. Yes its the beautiful places but so much more as well. I was wrestling with and image I was trying to take. I'd been thinking about it for a while and was trying to make it work and it wasn't. I read a quote from Marc Chagall recently and it hit home again.

"If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing."

Once I let go of the wrestling, something else came in. A story, a line of poetry a bit of whimsy. As I took down this bowl to dust it I rediscovered a found feather and the little transfer ware bird began her story. I wish I could describe what happens when a story begins. I'm sure you creative folk have similar experiences. As you create from the heart something extra gets added and passed on for others to see and appreciate. This image is another reminder for me to let go and let the stories take flight and capture them if I can.

Mended

Chipped,broken and burnt
Life has been hard
Pieced back together like
a pottery quilt
Still, wild roses bloom and
soft beauty remains

Tick Tick Ticking

Is there anything better than a feather pillow? Not down, feather. The kind that is a little bit crunchy and fairly regularly pushes a quill into your sleeping cheek. The kind that you can ball up after a couple of years and form into the perfect sleeping rock. The kind that you wouldn't dream of leaving home without. The kind that always makes your bed, yours and immediately familiar. These old feather pillows were inevitably covered in navy ticking that lasted forever. Feather pillows are a weakness of mine. I rarely pass them up and horde them when found to use at a future date. You can pretty much bet that if you spot that blue ticking, its wrapped around those painfully comfortable feathers,waiting to accompany you to dreamland.

The Book Kiss

Have you ever noticed if you say the word BOOK slowly,its like a kiss? Go ahead try it. I LOVE books. Paperback,hardcover,new,used or garage sale find. A world you can hold in your hand. A world someone else was so enamored of they wanted to write it down for you. They worried about just the right word or turn of phrase. They wanted you to see in that world what they did. Pick up a book. Kiss this world away for a bit and discover another place to be,in the pages of a book.

Honorable Use

I'm drawn to old, worn, well used, well made, pieces of the past. They aren't just tools or hardware,cloth or lace. They are the people they served and the people that used them. They are the craftsmen and women that made them. They are the searchers like me that crow when they find them. Stashed away in old coffee cans in the garage because they were too good to toss away. Or perhaps snipped from the edge of a pillow case too yellowed and stained to present to company any more. The older I get, the more I appreciate things that have aged gracefully before me. Reminding me. I am well made. I can serve a purpose for the people in my life and there will be those who will appreciate me as I age.