I summon the rain

Summon the water rain mist drizzle
Galvanize the clouds

Fly Like an Eagle

Do you have roller rink memories? I grew up in the country but the small town I went to school in had a old roller rink that I got to skate in once before it closed down. The floor was dusty hardwood and so wavy I might could say it was more like surfing instead of skating. My best friend and I and a cool guy friend spent one afternoon holding each other up as we surfed round and round to Steve Miller's Fly Like an Eagle. I don't know what else was in the juke box at the time but that was all we wanted to hear. The building is still there and I'd love to get into now and look around and see what I can see. These skates I caught while visiting the 70's again and watching Roller Derby at a skate center last week. Good times.

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.

8mm

When I was looking for inspiration a memory from my past resurfaced. The family gathering around a projection screen that was always a little awkward to put up. I can hear the raspy swoosh it made as it was raised. Pulling out the old Keystone 8mm projector and firing it up. It always had a unique smell as it ran. Kind of hot and plastic at the same time. The ratcheting sound as much a part of the experience as the sepia relatives I knew only from film. I dug through reels of film while setting up the projector reading the indexes of vacations past. I agree with them. The memories are worth keeping. I'll return and watch them all again.

Time Passages

I decided to work on a photo assignment this afternoon. Tic Toc and all that implies. So, I'm setting up the clock and watch, getting out the tripod, fiddling around to get started and the whole time that old song Time Passages is running through my head. "I go drifting through those time passages". As another birthday draws near its a good time to cast my line into the time passages and see what I might have forgotten about. Something I still needed to work on? Some place I had forgotten to remember. Some book I was supposed to read. Some memory I was supposed to remember to remember? As much as I love living around vintage things I'm reminded that remembering the past is wonderful. Living in the past can be a waste of the life you have now. Cast your line back by all means. Then cast your gaze around where you are right now and make these moments memorable.

Singer's Song

My Great Grandmother bought this Singer treadle sewing machine from a door to door salesman in 1915. She's been singing in my family ever since. My mother and I'm sure hers learned to sew on it and it retains pride of place in Mom's home even today. The wood finish has worn thin where countless yards of fabric have passed over. The felt strip sewn around her neck to hold pins has worn the Sing off of "Singer". I can remember it being a treat as a child to get to work the treadle. It took a bit to catch the rhythm and then off you go. Tha thunk, tha thunk, tha thunk providing a base beat to the music of the making.

Salvaged Reflections

I spent yesterday afternoon soaking up some vintage/antique/used/chippy/historical/salvaged/re purposed/old atmosphere. There is a great architectural salvage store not to far from work so I headed there after work. Its in a old warehouse right next to the railroad tracks just west of downtown. Its not the best part of town but that part of the adventure right? I headed in and asked the owner if she minded if I took some photographs. She was very welcoming. So I snooped to my hearts content. Stacks of old lumber. Piles of window weights. Bathtub feet lined up like ducks in a shooting gallery. Each piece old, made to last and fulfilling that promise. Their home may have come down around them but they wait, ready to step in again. This image was a stack of old mirrors culled from dressers and medicine chests. They sat quietly, huddled together reflecting the salvages dreams around them.

Scissors

Does your mother do this to you? "You don't want these old things do you?" "I'm going to just give these away." "You didn't know I had those?" Mine does and did and now I've got a new collection started. Black handled scissors. Heck, one of them is even mine from high school home ec. Did you grow up with these sewing work horses. Sturdy and sharp, pratically indestructable. They do however age, just like the rest of us. Not quite as sharp as they used to be and a little loose in the joints. They rattle a bit when shaken and the black is going silver. Its hard to get rid of something that still has use. Even if all it does is serve to remind you of that first pattern you cut out or aided in Barbies first haircut. They don't take up that much room and serve as time travel aids ever time I see them.

Door Knob Epiphanies

It seems like such a humble thing. A tool to be used without thought. A thing that is almost invisible in its use. The humble Door Knob. How many times a day do you touch a door knob in some form? Out of the room,into the bathroom,out of the house,into the office.... You reach, you grasp,you turn, you pull. All on automatic pilot I bet. I know I do. But, what if, for even a handful of those contacts we turned them into something else. Something with more purpose. We might take those fleeting moments to become mindfull. Reach and remember something for which you are grateful. Grasp and acknowledge that you have turned the iron off, nothing to worry about half way to work. Turn and dispense with negative repeatitive thoughts. Pull something into your life that brings you wonder. Embrace those Door Knob Epiphanies one entrance and exit at a time.

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.

Bone Button Romance

Have we talked about my love of bone buttons? I've got jars of them sitting around the house. I've been known to tap old buttons against my teeth to determine if they are bone or not. Do I let the fact they've been sitting in that jar in the antique store since God was a boy? Oh hell no! Tap tap tap, SCORE! Wrap em up, I'm takin em home.

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.

Fixer Upper

I've always said that I want to live in a old stone cottage. I'm officially modifying my wish since I know "the universe" is working to make my dreams come true. You might think, ok, here's where she asks for a stone cottage in good repair. Any stone cottage in any repair is just fine by me. In Scotland is my first choice but I'm open to other options there as well. This old cottage was in the river bottom farm land West of San Antonio. There's just something about a nice compact,just enough space, kinda home that appeals to me. I'll share any that I find along the way with you all.