I think the time has come to retire this space.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I'm still not ready to say I will never post here again. But having two blogs has been splitting me, and it feels dishonest and artificial. There's so much overlap between them for one thing -- that overlap being me, of course. The reality is that my photography is informed by my motherhood, the people I've met in this community and my resulting interest in social justice, the books and blogs I read. I've been feeling really guilty about the fact that I've written so frankly about my experiences at the Drop In Centre here, but I only ever give the people I meet there my other website. I want to own what I write; anonymity is only an illusion, especially here where I've relinquished it to promote my photography.

I was debating taking the site down entirely, but I haven't figured out how to archive it all (boy I'd love a way to convert an entire blog into a pdf, just in case any Adobe people are reading and want to develop a new tool), so I'll leave it. Plus, I really don't want to close the door entirely on ever writing here again.

I sought this space out to reach out to other mothers, to find other people with similar, honestly reported experiences of motherhood. You got me through those hard, hard early days, not the really early days of motherhood, but the days when everyone else's babies were sleeping and mine wasn't. And it was blogging that caused me to start seeing photos everywhere, and your support that kept me growing (I love that I know pretty much everyone who's bought my photos or calendars). So much of the rhetoric around motherhood is about sacrifice and losing yourself, but for me it's been the catalyst to reconnecting with myself, my creativity. (Bea introducing me to Myers Briggs and my ENFP-ness also played a significant role in my transformation: it's been so freeing to discover that I'm not as pragmatic as I thought I was, that Sugar D didn't have the market cornered on dreaming. And Mad nominating me for Best Photo/Art Blog in the 07 Canadian Blog Awards also did.)

Ugh, I'm getting all verklempt. It feels a bit like the end of an era, but I'll still be blogging over at peripheralvision, and I'll be expanding the scope over there, for better or worse. I hope to see you over there, but I'll undertand if I don't, since this kind of means the end of Sin. I meant to close up before the end of 08, to make a clean break, but I didn't have the mental space to do it justice until today. But that's ok. New beginnings always need endings to start.

Thank you for reading, for everything.

anniversaries

The second anniversary of the Just Posts is coming up very soon.

It was through the Just Posts that I read something about all the women in Africa suffering from fistula, which is preventable and treatable. Yesterday one of my favourite photography blogs led me to this multimedia presentation about a hospital in Nigeria that treats women with fistula. Go watch it; it's beautiful. (Just click on multimedia when you get there.)

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This anniversary is also making me reflect on how the Just Posts have changed my life. On the first Just Post, I pledged to sponsor a child through Help Lesotho and I actually set it up six months later (I know, I suck. But at least I did it, even if it was disgustingly late. And we're still doing it.)

On the first anniversary last December, I pledged to volunteer two hours a month somewhere. I decided on the Drop In Centre, and after my first morning there, I immediately decided to make it two hours a week (give or take a weekend out of town or of illness). I'm still going strong on that.

Last January, I also started selling my prints online and donating at least 50% of the proceeds to the Stephen Lewis Foundation. I've donated more than $200 now from the sale of my prints.

Last Friday I got the following message from the foundation:

It is said that the international financial turmoil will undermine the work of agencies like ours. Supposedly there’ll be no money around for charitable purposes. My colleagues and I refuse to accept that. We work from the premise that the struggle against AIDS will not be sacrificed on the altar of financial turbulence.

So we’re defying the odds. And we’re asking you to do the same. In fact, we’re asking you to do more. We’re asking you to join us in a new fundraising campaign called “TURNING THE TIDE”.

It’s our conviction that so much has been accomplished on the ground in Africa, for grandmothers and orphans and women in particular, that if we can fund every worthy proposal, we can turn the tide of the AIDS pandemic at the grassroots.

People will say that the timing is all wrong. We say, to the devil with the timing. We’re on the cusp of bringing hope to thousands upon thousands of people living with HIV/AIDS. Please join us.

It makes sense to me that charitable organizations could be among the worst hit by the global financial downturn. And it makes even more sense to me that we not let it. (So c'mon, buy a print or a calendar? They make great gifts! Or how about just donate to a charity you believe in...)

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So now what? I feel I need to mark this anniversary by doing something more. But I can't think what. Any ideas???

on vampires and cable guys

Wow, has it really been more than a week since I last posted? I've been trying to work on a thinky post, but as usual it's not really coming together. In the meantime, since we haven't had cable (I'm at home waiting for the cable guy as I type - a week and a half after the last appointment that the cable guy ducked out on me), I finally rented the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I'm totally getting sucked in. I've only finished six episodes, but I'm lovin' it, especially Angel.

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So Mommy C has tagged me for a meme. Yippee! It's been forever since I've been tagged and I love myself a good meme. This one's a challenge though. Six unspectacular quirks. First off, after two years of blogging, I think I've already put all my quirks out there. Second, it seems to me that all quirks, especially mine, are spectacular by their very definition. But really, I just don't think I have any quirks left to mine. So instead, I will give you six unspectacular things about the new house.

1) The duct cleaner is currently cleaning our ducts, and there is a lot of poo in them. Mouse droppings, which I knew about, but also something much larger. I fear raccoons have been inhabiting the six-inch space between the concrete pad and the floor. Ok, that one's actually kind of spectacular in a horrible, horrible way. I'm trying to not think about it.

2) The dishwasher is great. We've never had a dishwasher before, and I can't tell you how warm the evenings of its grunting and swishing make me feel. Oh the warm and loving sound of dishes being washed that don't require hands, either mine or Sugar D's.

3) The driveway. Unlike our neighbours, we don't have a garage. We do, however, have a double-width driveway, and with our friend's car, it is SUCH a luxury to be able to fit both cars in the driveway. Not only do they fit, but I don't get scratched or soaked by the neighbour's shrub that never gets trimmed.

4) The den. I love having a separate room for the tv, so we have to go out of our way to watch it. (Of course, it helps not to have any cable, so we'll see how we do on this once cable is installed.)

5) The light is pretty spectacular, and I can see I'm going to have lots of fun with my camera.











6) Ok so I was starting to get panicky that there was only a half-hour left of the cable guy's appointment and maybe the phone had run while I was out meeting the duct cleaner or the time I peed and forgot to take the phone with me (as opposed to the time I peed and TOOK the phone with me). So I called Rogers to find out what was up. Guess what?!? Apparently the hooked up the cable a few days ago. Apparently they don't ACTUALLY need you to be there when they do it. What if I hadn't called? When were they planning to tell me that everything was a go? On the plus side, they're giving us free PVR rental for a year to make up for all the hassle. Wanna know how I got it? I said, "I know you're personally not responsible for this but your company's customer service TOTALLY sucks and it makes me want to just switch to Bell. Their service probably sucks too, but I bet they would at least call to cancel a fucking appointment."

better late than never?

So yesterday was Bad Teenage Poetry Day, as declared by Superlagirl, and Andrea very bravely posted some of her very bad poems. Most of my poems are packed away for our move (in less than two weeks!), but I do have one I can post.

It's funny, I've posted a fair amount of silliness from my teenage years, and I just think it's funny. It doesn't embarrass me. But this poem seriously embarrasses me. It also embarrasses me that I thought it was so good at the time, I was going to post it at my horse's barn to intrigue the guy I was crushing on. Ok, so fine. I guess I can't delay any longer.

Lucifer Falling

Hitler was around then
even in New France
the devil himself
in your Jesuit habit
hiding in your circle of rosary beards
implanted in your cerebra
so you may think
you are god-like
so you may kill all that argues
in the name of the father
the son and the holy ghost.

You bring the plague on the savages
but it is you that is
savage
converting left, right, centre
she is not yours to convert
you may as well rape her
but you will not touch her soul.

It is you,
Satan
wearing your kachina mask
that sends all into chaos
your heritage is mine
and will still be mine
tomorrow
as we are stuck in a ring
neverending
as the sun until
we self-destruct
and our atoms shall mingle together
as one with the stars
at peace as nothing...

yeehaw!

I am positively giddy. Tomorrow and Friday I'm taking off of work while Swee'pea goes to daycare and Sugar D goes to work. I get to be all alone in my house. That NEVER happens!

My original plan was to spend a bit of time shooting and/or editing photos and/or blogging and a lot of time throwing out more photos and putting the keepers into albums, but last week I had an epiphany. I could go to the gym and have a leisurely workout followed by a leisurely swim in the saltwater pool! I could get a haircut! I could get a massage! (My shoulder has been REALLY sore and stiff for more than a month.) I could hang out in the peace and quiet of my very own house and then leave whenever I want! On the drop of a hat!

So it will be interesting to see whether I actually achieve anything or if I just flit around like a humingbird in a garden FULL of red tubular flowers, never settling to a single one. I do have some papers to find and sign, and phone calls to make regarding our new house sale (less than a month till we move!), but I've also scheduled a massage AND a haircut for Friday.

YEE HAW!

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And hey - I think tomorrow is my two-year blogiversary. To celebrate, I've updated my blogroll, which hasn't been updated in probably 18 months or more. I used blogger's new Blog List feature to import my feeds from google reader and look at it! It orders them according to the most recent post and even shows the title of the first post. Fancy, eh?

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I edited this photo from Havana yesterday and I don't know what I think of it. What do you think?

true neurotic

I am SO done with flying for a while. Though I AM kinda pleased to be able to say I’ve been to two UNESCO World Heritage sites in two different countries within about three weeks of each other. Last night I was dog tired, but I couldn’t fall asleep for all the words circling around my head… the many, many conversations of the weekend, cringing over the stupid shit I said and wishing I could have just listened to the inner voice that was yelling shut the fuck up! and figuring out what I wanted to say here about the weekend. The beds were so comfortable where we stayed that coming home to my own bed wasn’t even its usual sigh of relief.

This morning I saw that Dani is a True Neurotic, so of course I had to take the test, even though I felt like this weekend was the weekend of My Great Neurosis. Seriously, I wish I could have shut the fuck up about myself. As I went through the test, I thought my answers were coming out very laid-back. The test was going to miss my neuroses! And poor Dani was going to be the only Truly Neurotic Blogger. But no. I am the True Neurotic too. So I wasn’t just fibbing with the blog’er folks.

Favourite moments:

Kate reading Bon’s post aloud in the very same room of screaming prints, like the macbook was a ghetto blaster at a high school campfire and our loud comfy chairs were logs.

Checking out the beach at twilight under a full moon.

The many moments when Bea pulled out her paint chips, especially after a particularly victorious placemat purchase.

Bon giving me the finger as she licked yet another dessert off her middle finger (photo to come?)

Disappointments:

Losing my appetite for most of the weekend even though delicious food was nonstop.

Feeling totally obnoxious with my camera, and expecting to come home with tons and tons of great photos of everyone but getting home to discover that I barely took any and the ones I did mostly have peoples’ eyes closed. I had no idea people BLINK so much! I barely have any photos of the women I spent the weekend with but tons and tons of photos of Lunenburg’s parking meters. When I told Sugar D about all the parking meters I shot, he asked if they looked different in Lunenburg. But they don’t. I just like parking meters. (I actually really like the parking meter shots… I’ll share them once I’ve edited them.)

And with many apologies to the unnamed condiment-phobe, I simply must take a poll. Please, please share your opinion. (Oh crap. It seems the poll broke my site... would you mind clicking here please?)

Guess what?

I trimmed Swee'pea's fingernails for the first time last time. No blood, and I think he actually liked it! Next up: toenails.

Also, I'm going away to Halifax this weekend -- without Swee'pea or Sugar D! And I'm flying to get there. I'm not sure which is more scary: leaving Swee'pea for three whole nights or flying without Sugar D's hand to squeeze the life out of or a certain blogger spending the night at my house tonight so we can catch the plane in the morning. Not much I can do about the first, but I've got my lorazepam all lined up for the second. As for the third... well I've got some SERIOUS cleaning (and packing) to do.

And a long lost high school friend of mine has a blog too. Actually, she's got two, one for children's book reviews and one more personal.

Also, I'm getting lonely over at peripheralvision. I want to keep my photography blogging over there, but it's not nearly as friendly as this space and it's hard to keep writing when nobody's reading. No obligation of course, but if you're interested in that stuff, I'd love to see you there.

six-word epitaph

for Mad.

Risk taker only in my imagination.

yuck

I was rudely awakened very, very early this morning (4 a.m. to be precise) by a not-very-familiar but clearly identifiable burbling-slash-retching sound coming from the little person who was wedged against me. This is not a nice sound to wake up to, especially when it's still very very dark. I was pretty impressed with my instincts, though, even if I do say so myself. I leapt upright, and pointed him out of the bed, then traipsed down the hall to the toilet. It doesn't seem to matter what's in front of him though, because I managed to get puked on six times by 7 a.m. He seems to have stopped, and now he's sleeping, hopefully for a long time to get over the very early morning.

This stomach bug comes when I am also sick with a miserable cold. I came home before lunch yesterday I was feeling so rotten and sorry for myself since I did just have a nasty flu a few weeks ago, AND I got woken from my attempted nap yesterday by not one but TWO fucking telemarketers. Let's just hope we can keep our bugs to ourselves...

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Is it me, or is there a lot less blogging going on this week? I'm having no trouble keeping up with my bloglines, and that's kind of unusual...

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Edited to add: Ugh. Just when I thought we'd put the worst behind us, Swee'pea just christened our new couch in a major way. Any tips for getting puke out of a stainguarded couch? Also, what does one do with a brand-new, vomited-on 2008 Photographer's Market?

imperfect world

I wish I weren't awarding this perfect post. I wish the thing that spawned it hadn't happened. But it did, and I had to recognize the beauty and generosity and honesty of Mad's many moods of miscarriage part 2. (Part 1 is here.)

More perfects posts are at Suburban Turmoil and Petroville. The last two years of perfect posts are now available in a library.

Fourth is good

I came in fourth. I really want to be happy, because that is totally awesome but because they had the five finalists in round two, it feels a bit like a disappointing second last finish. And fourth placers don't get any blog bling. But really, fourth place in the Canadian Blog Awards is awesome!

Apparently folks with IE have been having trouble viewing my blog. I took down the Imagekind widget on the sidebar and the video I'd embedded in my Q&A post, and now it works in IE. I will probably try to put the widget back up sometime and see what happens. But in the meantime, it's nice to have you back. I'd noticed my stats had dropped and was wondering what I'd done to alienate so many readers.

And it feels weird and frivolous and pointless to blah blah blog about this stuff when Mad is waiting waiting waiting for an ultrasound and answers.

You asked...

I asked for questions and you obliged.

Kyla asked: What is your favorite person/place/thing to photograph? What draws you in the most?

I try not to have favourites, per se, although I am most drawn to people in the street. I love Henri Cartier-Bresson (well, who doesn't?) and that sort of street photography. Mostly I just try to find images that would make interesting photos.

I try not to think about what kinds of images to look for. If I go out shooting with too much intention, I come back with nothing. I try to shoot instinctively because it's when I think, when I wonder why I want to shoot a particular scene or person that I trip over myself and stop pressing the shutter. It's much better to have actual images to look at with hindsight, to read meaning into, to see themes in or to reject outright than it is to imagine photos never taken. In the past I've worried that I'm most drawn to the Other in some postcolonial sense, but I try to trust in my compassion for other human beings and I hope that comes through in the images. I never let myself shoot (anymore) if I'm internally laughing at someone. Laughing at bad grammar in signs or ironic juxtapositions of things (without feelings) is fine though.

Oh - and favourite place? Definitely Langa Township in South Africa so far... I'm hoping that the next time we go, I can find some friends to take me to some other townships.

Ewe asked: How many shots do you generally take to get 'the shot' you're looking for? And how long do you work with a particular photo when you sit down to edit?

I don't know, sometimes I never get the shot I'm looking for. Sometimes I get it in one or five shots. Sometimes I think I got it and I get home and something went wrong and it's not what I expected. Sometimes I get compulsive and just keep pressing the shutter with the same composition and exposure over and over again hoping for some kind of insurance. This happens when I'm shooting Swee'pea a lot, and I've found it's a good practice because invariably there are 29 shots with his eyes half-closed or something and one good one. Sometimes I just get 30 or 40 boring pictures of a wave breaking or some such stupid thing.

As for time spent editing, I've never timed myself but it feels fast, like 10 or 15 minutes, especially if I have a clear idea in my head of what I want it to look like. It takes longer if I don't know what I want it to look like, I only know it's not working as it is. And sometimes it could take months. On the first edit, it's ok and I post it to flickr but it's not one of my favourites and something's missing. Then I learn a new technique somewhere and think maybe that will help that one image that I'm attached to but doesn't quite do it for me. So I post that one. Then weeks later I'll discover something new again and then finally I'm happier with it.

Mad asked: Do you have a birthmark?

No. Just many, many freckles from the sun.

Kgirl asked: If you could live anywhere (no worries about safety, work, etc.) where would it be?

I'm pretty sure it would be Cape Town, except that I wouldn't want to be that far away from my family forever. And I wouldn't like its winter, which is like a UK winter with no central heating. So it would be ideal if we could spend like January to May there, then come back here for summer and fall. I hate winter. And I love the architecture in South Africa... houses built for warm climates are just so much more interesting than the houses here.

Jennifer asked: How did you and Sugar D meet?

This one's easy because I've already blogged about it... go read it, because I LOVE the story of how we met.

Christine asked: who do you like better, rolling stones or beatles and why?

Rolling Stones fer sher, although I have to clarify that I feel no attraction for Mick Jagger... the Beatles were just too clean. I like the rawness of RS I think. Plus "Beast of Burden" is one of my favourite songs, and sort of a theme song for me and Sugar D: despite all his protests he is totally my beast of burden. ;) Oh yeah!! And many of my fondest, foggiest memories involve Sympathy for the Devil on the Albion's juke box (my friends and I had a regular playlist that included Primus's Jerry was a Race Car Driver, Billy Idol's Hot in the City, and, um, other songs I can't recall at the moment).

Bon asked: since i think (from a post awhile back) that you are a bit of a fellow Bowie fan, my first question is...
a) which era/incarnation of Bowie would you most like to spend the evening with? (not necessarily romantically or anything)
my other less dweebie questions...
b) what's the loneliest period you've ever gone through, and what got you through it?

a) I do enjoy David Bowie but I'm not sure it's fair to call myself a real fan because I don't actually know that much about him. I just know I like his music. Really, it would be neat to spend an evening with him any time before he got that really bad plastic surgery.

b) I know I must have suffered loneliness in my life, but somehow I can't remember a lot of it, even less so what brought me through it. I remember feeling lonely when I subletted a bachelor apartment and realized that it would take days for anyone to discover me if I died. But I also thrived in the solitude, it was only the occasional morbid thought. Probably the worst loneliness was the winter I turned 16 (see Dani's question for a link to a post I wrote about that time). I hated my body and myself, and felt like no one understood me or felt as miserable as I did. Then spring came, I decided to lose weight, which made me happier for a while, my friend got her driving her license and things just got better.

Cloud asked: How did you first get into photography?

My third year at uni was a bad year, as I mentioned in this post. I ended up taking a year off school, which I kicked off with a minimym wage job at a local brake pad factory. I think I lasted about six weeks, my shortest ever stint at a crap job, before I got a part-time job at a futon shop. I'd had some fascination with the idea of photography for some time. I think it came from some movies, especially one about a woman healing from some psychological wounds in the US South (maybe South Carolina)... I can't remember its name. Anyways, the woman starts making pictures again in her old darkroom and I loved the black and white images of the big oaks draped with Spanish moss and loved the way the images appeared bathing in the gently moving developer under the red light. Mostly, I thought it would be cool to try to do that, so I bought my first camera with my first paycheque from that dirty, hot and dark brakepad factory. It was a fully manual, all-steel Yashica FX2 from the pawn shop. I spent the summer learning about exposure and metering and composition, then in the fall I decided to try to get a job at a camera shop. Within weeks of distributing my resume, I had a job at Black's (where I met Sugar D a year later). That fall I took the Photography I course at the university, and learned processing and darkroom techniques. I even made some good photos. My sister lent me her 30-year-old Pentax Spotmatic, which had a fabulous 50 mm lens and a more reliable light meter than the Yashica.

I got out of photography after I finished my degree and started working full-time in a government office (and after I met Sugar D). I started to spend less time doing it so I lost my eye and got discouraged and that was it, pretty much until a few months I started this blog. Now I know how important it is just to keep picking up the camera, and keep pressing the shutter, and to keep believing in my eye.

Dani asked: First, do you and Sugar D have one of those lists where if some hot celebrity decides they want to sleep with you, you're allowed to do so? (Beloved's is Nicole Kidman, mine includes - but is not limited to - David Bowie and Ewan McGregor.) If so, who is on your list, and who is on his?

We don't really have one of those lists, but it is fun to think about hot celebrities. My list would have had Heath Ledger on it, and Lenny Kravitz and... oh, Brad Pitt ... crap I can't think of any more. I'm quite certain Sugar D doesn't have a list (do you have a list Sugar D?) because he could never remember anyone's name. And in reality, I wouldn't really like it if Sugar D slept with a hot celebrity just because we'd agreed in theory before. I'm possessive that way.

Second, what would you of today say to you at your most challenging teenage stage? Or, more succinctly, what advice would grown-up Sin give to teenage Sin?

You know, I sort of already did this, when I wrote a letter to myself. Mostly I would tell myself that my mom didn't know what she was talking about when she said high school is the best time of your life, and it's ok to be miserable in high school. It doesn't mean you'll be miserable your whole life.

Janet asked: If you had an entire day to yourself, no work, no mothering, no chores or errands, what would be your favourite way to spend that day?

I want to say curled up engrossed in a great book and a box of Farmer's Market oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, but as much as I love reading a great book, I tend to feel pretty sluggish after doing it all day. I think I'd really rather be wandering the streets of a city I don't live in making pictures?

Slouching Mom asked: Is life as a redhead really any different? Do you fit the redhead stereotype (quick to anger, vivacious, etc.)?

Well, I don't really have anything to compare to, so I don't know if life is different being a redhead (maybe just all those strangers commenting on it?). I'd say for me, yes I fit the redhead stereotype. I'm definitely quick to anger, although also pretty quick to cool down once I've exploded, and I'd love to think I'm vivacious.

And finally! Remember that flamer? He came back and clarified his question thus:

Answering with a question just mean you can't answer. I mean, there are loads of photos like this one. So my question is : Why one more ? I just want to know why you felt like doing one more ? It's a real question, not an attack. The matter is not what I would prefer, I didn't shot a homeless as you did.

I responded rather longwindedly, but I was kind of glad he asked because it really helped illustrate a point I didn't know I was trying to make. My response, unedited for honesty:

Actually, answering with a question meant I didn't understand your question and wanted some clarity. I wanted to treat it as a real question and not an attack (although I can't help but feel a little defensive because I'm human and want everyone to love me), but first I need to understand what you're asking.

I suppose I feel the need to shoot more homeless people for the same reason that anyone shoots a portrait. I don't mean to turn him into a trope, rather I want to show him as an individual human being. I think it's dangerous to lump homeless people together as a single "them," separate from "us." He's a person just like you and me and as worthy of having a portrait made as anyone else.

And really, why shouldn't I shoot just one more? Photography is a funny thing... different photographers will shoot the same scene in as many different ways as there are photographers shooting. If I held myself back from shooting "just one more" anything - bicycle, ladder on its side, canoe, crumbling brick wall, graffiti, whatever (and those are all things that keep cropping up in image after image of mine - I'd never shoot anything, and that would just be stupid. Although maybe that's why you haven't posted anything of your own?

I love shooting people, anyone, not just street people although their faces tell a lot more stories than others, but shooting people is much more challenging than shooting inanimate objects or scenes. Some people say they hide behind the camera but for me it feels like exposing myself. It's scary to ask for someone's picture, and I feel self-conscious shooting, but I make myself do it because I don't like not doing it.

And of course, there's the political angle. I believe it's wrong that there are people in this wealthy nation (or anywhere for that matter) without enough food to eat and no home and I know personally how easy it is to become homeless and hungry. It's too easy to deliberately ignore street people, and I want to challenge people to see them, to see this problem in our society and to take some measure of responsibility for their wellbeing. I remember once reading that you can tell a lot by how a person treats their dog, similarly you can tell a lot by the way a society treats their mentally ill. Maybe that's why you seem a bit threatened? Because you'd rather not think about street people as people like you and me?

make my day

This made my day yesterday:

You Are a Ring Finger

You are romantic, expressive, and hopeful. You see the best in everything. You are very artistic, and you see the world as your canvas. You are also drawn to the written word. Inventive and unique, you are often away in your own inner world. You get along well with: The Pinky Stay away from: The Index Finger

What Finger Are
You?

I thought fer sure I was going to be the middle finger, and I'm not sure I agree 100 percent (especially with seeing the best in everything), but it sure sounds good, doesn't it?

But now, I discovered that the awarding of the Canadian Blog Awards will be unrolled over the NEXT WEEK. I'd hoped I'd find out the results today or tomorrow at the latest. Oh well... guess it won't kill me to wait a bit. I'm hoping for third so I can get some nice bling for my sidebar...

I so thoroughly enjoyed the questions that Slouching Mom got from her readers that I'm going to up this space up to questions too... ask me anything. I can't imagine a question I wouldn't want to answer... so go ahead, make my day?

PS I'm so stoked about Lost starting again tonight. I didn't think I was but then I came across last night's repeat of last season's finale and I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed it. Anyone else looking forward to it?

PPS With Sugar D going away in a few days, I'm wondering how I will shower. For the last two years I've just waited until Sugar D was home and showered in the evening, usually after Swee'pea went to bed. But now that Swee'pea's in the big bed, I'm not sure how comfortable I am showering while he sleeps in case 1) he doesn't go to sleep for a very long time or 2) he wakes up when I'm in the shower and starts wandering around opening drawers and pulling furniture over on himself. Any ideas? How do you do it?

Wordless Wednesday: Ode to Warmer Days, or, Resurrection

In honour of the last day of voting for the Canadian Blog Awards... here's hoping.













(All of these images were rejects when I shot them, but somehow now they're not.)

7 things I feel like blogging about but not in any serious, extended way

1. I was home sick yesterday and made the mistake of finishing The Time Traveller's Wife. I seriously cried for like the last 150 pages, which did not help my already full sinuses. I loved it though, even if it was devastating, and I am SO adding Henry DeTamble to my Top 10 Most Snoggable Literary Characters, which is still in development. Because I have such a lousy memory for a book's details, I'm only up to four. It could be a while...

2. After I finished, I discovered Love and Rockets's "Haunted when the minutes drag," on itunes and spent the rest of the day listening to it on repeat, tripping down memory lane, and mopping my drips.

3. My blog has been getting double and triple the usual number of hits since that hot young celebrity was found dead. For the longest time (like 18 hours?) I couldn't figure out why I was getting so much traffic to a crappy photo I stole from somewhere else to illustrate a silly meme. It was the next morning before some of my blogger peeps shared the news.

4. I'm scared because Sugar D has to go away on business for four days in the same week that my parents will be out of the country. And my best/only friend to call in crisis is on the other side of the world. I know I'll be ok if Swee'pea sleeps reasonably well and goes to bed in decent time. But if he doesn't? I don't cope very well in those instances even when Sugar D is around to take over. But if he's not here, and I have no-one to call for company or a friendly voice, things could very ugly indeed.

5. I really want to win Best Photo/Art Blog now that I'm in the finals. Only a week to go before I will shut up about it already... (and, um, vote for me if you haven't?)

6. Yesterday I was scoping out some of the other categories of the Canadian Blog Awards and came across this post in the Best Blog Post category. It's gotten my vote, and I seriously recommend you read it and make your vote too if you haven't already.

7. I'm feeling more than a little disillusioned. I've been reading a few books about digital photography and photoshop and checking out various photographers online. It turns out that those portraits that are just gorgeous? They aren't candid shots of a person as the photographer found them. Often times good photographers art direct their shots. I seriously did not know this. I thought they just waited and shot at just the right moment. On the one hand I feel a bit deceived, but on the other, the photographers have also talked about getting to the know their subjects a little bit. I think back to the man in May with the crutches and how those are my favourite street portraits I've taken, and it occurs to me that perhaps I've been missing something. I think the next time I go out shooting in the streets, my goal will be not the random street shots taken a little bit on the sly but part of an interaction that starts with hello.

random round-up

My insurance agent has posters on the wall that I imagine are intended to inspire.

The poster nearest me features a photograph of sunbeams filtering through several tall evergreen trees in the mid-ground. Your eye starts at the sun and follows its beams down to the foreground, where there is a flag stuck in a golf hole. Then you notice that the green is covered with silvery frost, and there are green footprints like random stamps. The footprints concentrate around the flag.

Underneath the photo is the word SUCCESS in all caps, followed by a message in smaller type: “Some people dream of success… while others wake up and work hard at it.”

I’m struggling to connect the image and the words, to decipher how the image represents success, and working hard at it. I guess it’s a morning scene, with the light frost and lowish sun. But a golf course? I’ve heard of the cliché that all major decisions and negotiations are made on the golf course, but it’s really a leisure activity in my books, and an exclusive one at that. I don’t like golf, and I don’t like the amount of water and chemicals required to maintain a pristine green. It seems like an awfully good way to ruin the planet. But that’s besides the point, I guess. Are the footprints meant to represent the people "working" while the rest of sleep, away from this hive of productivity?

It occurs to me that this poster is not so much to inspire as to placate those already conventionally successful, to comfort: don’t feel bad about being rich when so many are much, much poorer, because poor people just haven’t worked as hard as you.

The other poster, over the agent’s computer shows a photograph of a misty morning farm scene; maybe there was snow. The details are foggy, literally in the photograph, and figuratively in my memory. The caption is in a cursive sort of font: “Without dreams there is no need to work. Without work there is no need to dream.”

I can sort of get the first sentence, because when I dreamed as a teenager about competing as an equestrian in the Olympics, I still had to shovel shit. But the second sentence? Seems wrong and depressing to me. Still, I suppose there are a lot of people out there doing soulless jobs to pay the bills and their dreams are what keep them plodding away and sane (and hey, both Sugar D and I have been there and done that). But must work always be something that requires escape, even if its only in your dreams? I suppose so… I’ve said it in this very space before that if I became independently wealthy somehow, I’d drop my job in a heartbeat…

What is up with this insurance agency and its hardcore work ethic? What stake does an insurance agency have in people working hard?

***

Is it normal for a two-year-old to have insomnia? Swee'pea just laid awake in bed for hours last night, sometimes chewing his soother, or stroking the wall, or poking and kicking me. It was very annoying and a little distressing to wonder what keeps a two-year-old awake at night when he hasn't had chocolate or sugar or caffeine of any kind.

***

In happier news, I'm one of the five finalists in the Best Photo/Art blog category of the Canadian Blog Awards!! Hurrah! I really didn't expect to make it... but I've checked out a lot of the other blogs and it seems I've been pimping A LOT more than anyone else in the category. Round Two of voting starts tomorrow. I think it's the same as Round One, except there are only five blogs to choose from now. So if I could trouble you a bit more, I'd love it if you could vote for me again starting tomorrow.

In the Best Family Blog category, the category that nearly killed me with so many of my favourite reads and only two votes to spread between them (one at work and one at home), I'm pleased to see that Dani and Beck have both made it into the finals. I'm very sad that Bubandpie and Mad and Bon did not.

snap

I spent Swee’pea’s nap yesterday gathering and writing content for my new photography portfolio. Sugar D still has to design and develop it, but I’ve bought a new domain and I’m excited thinking about how the images will work together and what kind of text I want to include.

I never thought I would ever make the switch from film to digital. I worked in a camera and photofinishing store in 1999 and digital camera sales were growing exponentially, but I remained steadfast. I loved that with film, I was literally working light, making the little silver molecules on film dance to light. I loved working in the darkroom to make prints. It felt like time slowed down or disappeared when I was in the darkroom, and the quality of sound changed with all the images coming to life or hanging to dry around me. I loved gently swishing the developer and washing my image fade in, shadows first, highlights later.

I dreamed about having my own darkroom in my home, because I struggled a bit with commitment from time to time. Booking darkroom time in advance required a commitment that sometimes I didn’t want to make. Once I was in the darkroom, I enjoyed myself in the peace and excitement. But getting there was a challenge. I thought it would be easier if the darkroom were available in my home.

I remember when we were looking for a house to buy, the basement had to have a laundry tub and plumbing so I could eventually set up my own darkroom. The house we bought did indeed have a laundry tub, but thank goodness I never got around to setting up a darkroom down there. Our basement is dank and I can’t believe I ever thought it possible to make it into a place I would want to go to hang out in the dark. Thank goodness I came to my senses and switched to digital, where I can even enjoy a cup of tea while I work in the digital darkroom.

Although I loved making my own prints, I never enjoyed developing my own film. Too much pressure for one thing, working in pitch black and knowing that one false move could destroy the entire roll. You know why the movies never show people developing their own film? Because it’s pitch black and you can’t see a thing and you have to go entirely by feel. If you drop the roll of film while trying to get it on the spool, you have to feel around in the dark until you find, which is not so nice if your film developing room is also your bathroom. It doesn’t make for good cinematography. Much nicer to watch people humming around beneath a red light, hanging enlargements and waiting for images to appear in the developer.

I also worried about the chemicals. Although I was always told to wear gloves it’s a real pain in the ass because you have to put them on and take them off over and over and over again, and sometimes I just couldn’t be bothered. For this reason, I never went into the darkroom when I was pregnant or breastfeeding, although I fantasized.

And while part of the thrill of using film was its physicality, it was also its drawback. I never stored my negatives very carefully, and invariably they would get scratched or leaked on, and some of my favourite images have been destroyed forever. Even handling them to print is a risky and delicate undertaking. And the digital darkroom, while not exactly easier than the real darkroom, IS easier to undo. Through all my trials and errors, at least I don’t end up with print after print after print that I can’t bring myself to throw out but also have no use for.

Of course, digital images are at risk too, as I discovered when my cds got scratched on the way home from South Africa last year and I lost a few of my favourites. But at least I can back them up in multiple places and formats and be reasonably assured that I will be able to access at least one of those sources. Those blue jeans on a blue wall (over on the side bar with a link to imagekind where you can purchase it!)would have been lost forever if I hadn’t already uploaded its high res self onto flickr. When I consider my collection of images, those jeans are probably in the top five for me.

Life is a funny thing. A month ago, I wanted to write a book, a memoir. It somehow seemed more attainable than making a photography book. I told Sugar D, "I want to write a book. Now I just need to wait for something to happen to me." And he said, "Yeah, I used to think that too. Then something happened and I still can't write about it."

Now, mere weeks later, I want to be a photographer when I grow up. Not a commercial or wedding photographer, but an artist I guess. It started when Sugar D gave me a book for my birthday just after Christmas that featured photography with a similar aesthetic to mine. It was so inspiring. And then Mad went and nominated me for a Canadian Blog Award for Best Photo/Art Blog and that encouraged me so much I found a service to sell my prints through. I'm really chasing a dream here, and it's exciting and scary, yet just fine if it goes nowhere and I just keep pursuing my passion.

Thank you for voting for me at the CBAs... I hope I make it into the second round, but I have a feeling those other nominated blogs have much bigger readership so it's doubtful. And if you haven't yet... um, could you? Pretty please with sugar on top?

(Or you could buy a print, because at least half of the proceeds will be donated to the Stephen Lewis Foundation.)

hangovers of a different kind

I'm feeling hungover again. Except I haven't been drinking. I felt fine when I first got up, even though today started differently. Today was supposed to be the day that we finally got help for loved one. I mean help for more than her homeless state (which we did get help for despite her unwillingness to admit to having been evicted this weekend - for the second time in about six weeks).

When I got to work, I suddenly realized I felt like ass. Jittery and distracted and so. damn. tired. I think I must have been putting on supportive airs for Sugar D and as soon as I was away from him the jig was up. I felt so changed. I'm pretty sure none of my coworkers can say their Saturday night involved the arrival of a family member in a cop car. I remain haunted by T from the drop-in centre. A friend of mine said she once read a book about how to build community that was sometimes kind of cheesy but one of the tidbits remains with her still: Don't think in terms of us and them. It's all us. The posts I managed to read this morning swirled together, all part of the same big circle.

Probably not a surprise to anyone who's had experience in this sort of thing, but today was not the day we got help for our family member. I think, however, that today WAS the day we got ready to play hardball. Ultimatums. As in, if you don't go to the doctor, you won't get to come for visits anymore and we sure as hell are not bailing you out next time you get evicted. This is how people end up on the streets, even if they have loving family. I'm so done, but it's not really mine to be done about, and it's never going to finish.

Today is also the day my best friend leaves for Malawi. I don't think it's any coincidence that I had a wee breakdown at work, upon hearing that today wasn't going as planned. What's a girl supposed to do when the person she can always call for a sympathetic cuppa is gone? Apparently, she goes into the handicapped stall and cries. And then cries to her manager that she can't finish up that rush request because she is totally unable to focus. Sugar D came and got me, and we quietly vented and mourned and debriefed on the day and the phone calls and the lack of resolution.

I couldn't think of a goodbye present that would do justice to how much I'm going to miss my friends. I thought about just getting Malawian currency, but for some strange reason the exchange houses don't carry the currency of the fourth poorest country in the world. I thought about Indian currency because they're stopping over in Dubai and it's nice to be able to buy a tea while you wait. But Sugar D told me Dubai isn't in India. I got it mixed up with Mumbai. When we looked on wikipedia we discovered Dubai is very close to Iran and Iraq, which we found a bit alarming. Still, it's better than Nairobi, which is where they were originally routed to for a 12-hour stopover. I asked Sugar D how things are going in Kenya and he said not good. The prime minister won't admit there's a problem and refuses to do anything.

Sounds familiar.

Yeah, said Sugar D, my mother is an African dictator.

We laughed. A lot. I said I had to blog that and he didn't object.

*****************************************

On a happier note, voting is open for the Canadian Blog Awards, and I've been nominated for Best Photo/Art Blog. Please go vote for me. Apparently, voting goes in rounds, and you only get one vote per category per round. Voting for Round 1 ends January 21, 2008, so please go vote for me now. (Write About Here in case you forgot where you were.)

win-win

For the baby shower.

I will commit at least two hours of my time every month to volunteer in my community. I’ve been struggling, however, to decide just what to do with that time, which organization to work with. I’ve never actually volunteered before, and knowing myself, I’m wary of committing to something I can’t or won’t follow through on. I’ve been searching local databases of organizations in need of volunteers and researching organizations that are doing work I am passionate about.

While I would love to do something with young people, especially those served by the shelter that shut down suddenly last June and who still don’t have a replacement, I suspect that they need a bigger time commitment than I’m prepared to give at this time. I would hate to be just one more person that doesn't hang around in their lives.

It may be that with my skills, my best contribution would be in an administrative, office-bound role, perhaps for one of the local environmental organizations. But I’m not sure that would really draw me away from my home and family and, let’s be honest, the computer. I think I’d really prefer to volunteer in a way that comes into contact with real people.

So I think I’m down to the local drop-in centre, where I can serve coffee and stuff. I phoned them before Christmas and the woman in charge was excited to hear from me and told me to call back in the New Year to schedule time. But still I hesitate.

At the back of my mind through all this humming and hawing, I’m also questioning my motives. Because I would (not so) secretly love to make more portraits of street people, and volunteering in a way that brings me into more contact with them would obviously help. Is it ethical for me to volunteer with an ulterior motive? Is it enough for me to volunteer without expectations for photo ops and just see what happens?

I think it’s time to just act and stop thinking and analyzing and questioning and researching. I’m picking up the phone.

Well that was disappointing… I have to call back in the morning. Don’t worry though, I will do it.

What about you? Do you volunteer or have plans to volunteer? What kind of volunteer work excites you?

* * *

As I mentioned last week, I am also trying to sell prints of my photos, and donating at least 50 percent of the proceeds to the Stephen Lewis Foundation. Because my thoughts have been turning to parts of the earth that are now enjoying summer, and because I’ve been learning more in photoshop, and because I was so encouraged by the early print sales last week AND being nominated for the Photo/Art Blog category of the Canadian Blog Awards, I have been going back through my South Africa photos and finding new ones I like or new ways to fix old problems.

So I also offer to you, as a treat, the following summer days:


This one was ruined by a big ugly hair in the sky (tiny hair on the lens) and I just learned how to remove it. Salvation!






The Johannesburg skyline from Zoo Lake. I probably posted this one unprocessed before, but I like it better this way.


I'd written this one off before because his ears were cut off, but I love the reflection of sky in his eye and the sort of line that goes down his face and out his tail.


I probably posted this one before too, in black and white, but I love this new processing. This one is now available on my imagekind gallery. If you want to buy a print of an image not yet available there (like one of the zebras), just email me and I can set it up.

For 2008, I'm hoping to find new ways of expanding both my photography and my contribution to nonprofit organizations. Win-win.

* * *

And finally, while I'm on the subject of social justice (sort of), thanks to Matriarch for pointing me to Gloria Steinem's op ed piece in the New York Times. And to feministing, which I'd never seen before... although it really upsets me that they have so much material.

PS can you tell Swee'pea went to bed at a reasonable time last night and tonight? Yeehaw!

Me, a Spam Blog?

WhatEVerrrrrr.

Yesterday, Blogger locked my blog because they thought it was a spam blog. Blogger says spam blogs are characterized by irrelevant, repetitive and nonsensical text with many links often to the same site.

Consider yourself warned: irrelevant, repetitive and nonsensical text is coming right up.

The day started out shit, literally, when our cat shat on our bedroom carpet, and continued that way. After work, Swee'pea had a meltdown at the daycare when I tried to put all his winter clothes on for the 10-minute walk home, and I couldn't cave because it was minus 13 celsius without the wind chill. His screaming rached boiling point when I wrestled him into the stroller against his will and bumped over the barely plowed sidewalk. He literally screamed all the way home. That does wacky things to an already stretched-too-thin mother: I joined his screaming from time to time in my finest mothering moment yet. I just panicked, because it was the only way home and I wasn't convinced he was dressed warmly enough and I didn't want to waste time putting his toque back on over and over and over again or pleading with him to stop crying so the tears wouldn't freeze on his cheeks.

I was pretty drained and ashamed by the time we made it home and Swee'pea melted down again, screaming for his doodoo then screaming louder when I brought it to him. Finally, he collapsed into my arms, doodoo in mouth, and I checked my email with him on my lap. Which was when I found out that Blogger had locked my blog:

Dear Blogger user,

This is a message from the Blogger team.

Your blog has been identified as a potential spam blog. For an explanation of what spam blogs are, please see Blogger Help: http://help.blogger.com/bin/answer.py?answer=42577.

You will not be able to publish posts to your blog until we review your site and confirm that it is not a spam blog. To request a review, please fill out the form found here: http://www.blogger.com/unlock-blog.g?lockedBlogID=31853698

We will take a look at your blog and unlock it within four business days. Please note that if we do not hear from you within 20 days, we will remove your blog. If this blog does not belong to you, then you do not have to do anything. Any other blogs you may have will not be affected.

Since you are an actual person reading this, your blog is probably not spam. We find spam by using an automated classifier. Automatic spam detection is inherently fuzzy, and occasionally a blog is flagged incorrectly. We sincerely apologize for this erroneous result. By using this kind of system, however, we can dedicate more storage, bandwidth, and engineering resources to users like you instead of to spammers.

Thank you for your understanding and for your help in our spam-fighting efforts.

Sincerely,

The Blogger Team

I responded immediately, because I'd already posted four posts using their visual verification test AND requested a human review to remove that damn visual verification. When I went to their little help page and saw that my blog got caught by some sort of filter for irrelevance, repetition and nonsense, I just felt hurt, betrayed by the very people who encouraged those qualities. Although I gave Blogger 24 hours to respond before I left them, I just don't think I can live with them after that kind of betrayal.

Work is already underway to move to www.writeabouthere.com using wordpress. I'll let you know when it's set up.

* * *

Today WAS a better day, apart from being unable to post. I just got word that my blog has been reviewed and cleared of all spam blog-related charges.

And as a side effect, not being able to blog freed me up to try out an online service to sell some of my prints.They ship anywhere in the world, offer a range of paper and print qualities (with the most affordable option still offering great quality), and I will donate 50 percent of any proceeds to the Stephen Lewis Foundation. I've just uploaded my very favourite images of 2007 so if you've seen a photo on here that you'd like to buy, and you don't see it in my imagekind gallery, just email me and I can set it up. The site's a bit hard to navigate but if things go well, I will set up a better, more navigable online gallery that just links to imagekind for the actual purchasing.