Morning Trip (267)

“Hiking
Whenever possible I avoid the practice myself. If God meant us to walk, he would have kept us down on all fours, with well-padded paws. He would have constructed our planet on the model of the simple cube, so that notion of circularity and consequently the wheel might never have arisen. He surely would not have made mountains.

There is something unnatural about walking. Especially walking uphill, which always seems to me not only unnatural but so unnecessary. That iron tug of gravitation should be all the reminder we need that in walking uphill we are violating a basic law of nature. Yet we persist in doing it. No one can explain why George H. Mallory’s asinine rationale for climbing a mountain–‘because it is there’–could easily be refuted with a few well-places hydrogen bombs. But our common sense continues to lag far behind the available technology.

There are some good things to say about walking. Not many, but some. Walking takes longer, for example, than any other known form of locomotion except crawling. Thus, it stretches time and prolongs life. Life is already too short to waste on speed. I have a friend who’s always in a hurry; he never gets anywhere. Walking makes the world much bigger and therefore more interesting. You have time to observe the details. The utopian technologists foresee a future for us in which distance is annihilated and anyone can transport himself anywhere, instantly. Big deal, Buckminster. To be everywhere at once, is to be nowhere forever, if you ask me. That’s God’s job, not ours.

The longest journey begins with a single step, not with a turn of the ignition key. That’s the best thing about walking, the journey itself. It doesn’t matter whether you get where you’re going or not. You get there anyway. Every good hike brings you eventually back home. Right where you started.

Which reminds me of circles. Which reminds me of wheels. Which reminds me my old truck needs another front-end job. Any good mechanics out there wandering along through the smog?”
–Edward Abbey

Foray into Photography of the Canine

sigh

I am working up to the photography of humans, I swear, I think…

I’m just not drawn to image them.
Well, not many, in any case.

The ones I AM drawn to, come out talking and sharing, like the landscapes and nature images.
What DOES that say anyway, if plants or trees, or stones talk more than the flat two dimensional people along the way?

I don’t photograph animals either. I like the special images of them. Not the ones one must pretend are special because they are of someone’s beloved pet and are thus special by default. The really interesting ones with light and shadow and, well…talking!

I have been getting some very nice feline images. I thought they were a fluke, until lately. With animals, I’m finding that I need to create a thought, an idea, and a setting before I get the shot. If I attempt candid shots that look like portraits, I have to take a LOT of images! I have been contrasting the images that I like and that I dislike with pet images of other folk and then of some more known photographers. I’m developing my idea or taste of what I think makes such an image contain character and feel attracting.

This is Woody. He is two. He has unlearned his manners. That is another story for another time. I thought I would get a nice portrait of his alert face. (waits while some of you laugh, blink, or raise your eyebrows at the ridiculous owner of a sedate cat)

He, at present, doesn’t really get the stimulation required, and he is two. He LOVES it when I show up, as I have become the woman with the tennis ball. If I forget to come for a day he jumps up on me. His nose then reaches my forehead. He used to follow silent hand signals. Did I mention that he has lost his manners?

I almost got one from the perspective that I wanted, as he paused his galloping to devour lick inhale taste investigate his ball. Had I not set out to get a shot of his warm brown eyes gazing at me from a sitting position, doing that thing he does when he wished to know what I have done with his beloved tennis ball, I would not have thought any of my first attempts at canine photography as an epic fail–my daughters in college use that phrase.

This last one has me think of the Zen of Ball

The black and whites weren’t too shabby either. I think, not so bad on my first try, expectations not expunged.

Unappreciated Grace

Right in Your Face, Or Winter at The Tree Place Series, December 7th

Right in Your Face (Winter at The Tree Place Series---7)

Images are the property of Elisabeth Connelley and Purple Shoe Photography. They are offered in limited numbered prints.

Please send inquiries to: elisa58t2sugarless@yahoo.com with Purple Shoe Photography in the subject line.

I have agonized all day about this one. I do not feel right. I am telling myself that no one cares. Just to post. But, I care. My intent on this project, I think–to the best of my abilities, is and was to get me out of the house and to The Tree Place. My intent was to attempt to move my personal tastes, perhaps to see and to view beauty in what was not. I thought to go out daily and get at least one image. The first day was amazing. I hadn’t gone for a bit. I was very pleased with the images and had a bit of trouble choosing just one. I was grateful for all of the visions granted to me to experience. I did not wish to diminish any of them. I felt some wonder while taking them. Wonderment that I could feel grounded and joyful just stopping along and taking images on purpose. For any who know me, energy strikes me, and I shoot. No energy, or no camera available, missed shot! I was excited that I went out on purpose looking for pictures and I actually got some.

I stopped, mid shoot, and I prayed and happy tears came, and I felt silly and glad. I held up the camera for a last amazing shot….and the battery light came on! I cursed and then I burst our laughing.

I cannot afford new ones for now. That part is fine. What bothers me is my own rules of commitment. I feel like I am cheating if I post shots from that glorious first day. I tried to convince me that it is all fine and that a shot a day is what I promised. But, I can’t lie to me. I’m glad for that. Though, it’s not good for a daily Winter at The Tree Place series.

In order to ‘fix’ this, I have decided to continue the Winter at The Tree Place series, doing my best. If my car is broken and I need to go out into the yard, I’ll tell you where I got the shot. I certainly can limit myself even by my own expectations. (facial expression that says I am aghast at this repeated ah ha moment)

PS. While choosing the image for today’s post, I was looking at it and noting that no matter how even when right in my face, I couldn’t get all of the object into focus all at the same time. Maybe the lesson might stick now? (ha!giggles)

Morning Trip (14) or Inside Upside Down and Backward Blog (5)

Good Morning!

I am adding in the beginning since I have come to an end, and realized that what began as a ponder and became the Morning Trip(14) which did not look nor feel like the average Morning Trip and then slid over more into the Inside Upside Down and Backward Blog (5). I could not slight one or the other. So, laughing at myself for feeling ‘wrong’, especially after readers will see the ‘wrong’ topic below, I posted it as both, let the reader simply read and filter and decide–or perhaps not care so very much about headings. Enjoy! I am going to get a cup of tea.

“The bright side of wrong

Our tendency to err is also what makes us smart. Here’s what we’d gain from embracing it

By Kathryn Schulz
June 13, 2010

There are certain things in life that pretty much everyone can be counted on to despise. Bedbugs, say. Back pain. The RMV. Then there’s an experience we find so embarrassing, agonizing, and infuriating that it puts all of those to shame. This is, of course, the experience of being wrong.

Is there anything at once so routine and so loathed as the revelation that we were mistaken? Like the exam that’s returned to us covered in red ink, being wrong makes us cringe and slouch down in our seats. It makes our hearts sink and our dander rise.

Sometimes we hate being wrong because of the consequences. Mistakes can cost us time and money, expose us to danger or inflict harm on others, and erode the trust extended to us by our community. Yet even when we are wrong about completely trivial matters — when we mispronounce a word, mistake our neighbor Emily for our co-worker Anne, make the dinner reservation for Tuesday instead of Thursday — we often respond with embarrassment, irritation, defensiveness, denial, and blame. Deep down, it is wrongness itself that we hate….”
Read the remainder of the article…

Morning Trip (12)

“We read of spiritual efforts, and our imagination makes us believe that, because we enjoy the idea of doing them, we have done them.
I am appalled to see how much of the change I thought I had undergone lately was only imaginary.
The real work seems still to be done.
It is so fatally easy to confuse an aesthetic appreciation of the spiritual life with the life itself – to dream that you have waked, washed, and dressed & then to find yourself still in bed.”
– C.S. Lewis