Black Oaks

Okay, not one can write a symphony, or a dictionary,

or even a letter to an old friend, full of remembrance
and comfort.

Not one can manage a single sound though the blue jays
carp and whistle all day in the branches, without
the push of the wind.

But to tell the truth after a while I'm pale with longing
for their thick bodies ruckled with lichen

and you can't keep me from the woods, from the tonnage

of their shoulders, and their shining green hair.

Today is a day like any other: twenty-four hours,
a little sunshine, a little rain.

Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from
one boot to another -- why don't you get going?

For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.

And to tell the truth I don't want to let go of the wrists
of idleness, I don't want to sell my life for money,

I don't even want to come in out of the rain.

~Mary Oliver

Peonies


This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open ---
pools of lace,
white and pink ---
and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away

to their dark, underground cities ---
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again ---
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?

~Mary Oliver

"There are a thousand thousand reasons to live this life, every one of them sufficient." ~Marylinne Robinson Gilead

Perfect temperature: escape for a few minutes: close the door behind me: in short sleeves.

You bought me a lavender plant for our anniversary. I can’t seem to keep the damn thing alive. It needs more water than any of the other plants we have and it’s outside so I don’t think of it often enough, I guess. You make a joke about how me caring for the plant is like me caring for our relationship. I think I was loading, or unloading, the dishwasher at the time.

A new look, a new feel, new photos, new words. I hope you'll like some of the new changes to the blog; it's designed to better represent me and share a little bit of the way I look at the world. I want to share more of the inspiration I gather from poetry and the books I read while continuing to share our personal lives in a pared-down, poetry-like form of writing.

To the right you'll see links to my professional website and blog, the Grumblehog store, and to Sea and Sky - my collaboration project.

Below that, I've have expanded my list of links to include all the many blogs, photoblogs, and websites I look at every day for inspiration or amusement.

I have also thought a lot about the two main reasons for this blog: a journal of our lives and a place to display my photographs with whatever words belong to them. At the very bottom of the page are two links that can help separate the two - Journal and Photo. One will take you to posts about our lives and what we are doing. The other will take you to posts with photography and writing. If you used the "Most Recent" link - you will now find it here at the bottom.

Thank you for your patience during the redesign. New posts will be coming up soon!

M

A day away with only the vaguest of plan. Two friends on a road trip, with a little mission. Sunshine, warm weather, a long bike ride for both of us. Food from the Chicken Drive-in.

I'm proud of you, and excited for you.

Details filled in by Parenthetical Statement

He always finds the sun.

He swears it's simple. But I still don't know how he turns flour into bread.

Yawn. It takes months, maybe years, for people to get completely comfortable around one another.

but without focus.

Everything slightly out of focus but for the ships. Wood paneling with matching light switch. Torn. Finding Inspiration.

If my face could be this expressive, it would say the same thing. I'm exhausted. I'm sad. I'm far from home on a old patterned couch. But, at least I am here with these people, who love me.

Decades of mismatched dishes brought to the beachhouse one by one, at random times. Perhaps their matching partners were broken or lost. Perhaps they are finds from thrift stores. Tiny wine glasses and a fish-shaped bowl. While we play cribbage. And I photograph hands, again, always calling to me.

Morning on the beach: fog lingers as it seems to always do in Oregon: the comfortable feeling of returning to a place you've been before.

Long day: on the road: sunset glancing across fields of grass but I'm driving and have to settle for a mental picture: darkness falls: arriving near midnight.

Snuggling: abandoning himself to the softness: loose joints, relaxed muscles: trust.

Soft: mischievious: heart-meltingly adorable: affectionate: floppy: purring machine.

Red traffic light: how many years of our lives are spent waiting?

Weeds next to the guardrail: 5:52 PM: 1/2000th of a second: unprocessed photograph.

Grumblehog 2.0

Hi All,

I am taking a few days of vacation so there won't be anything new on Grumblehog for a little while. And, when I return, me and my web designer/husband are going to do some major renovations and I will be very excited to launch "Grumblehog 2.0".

Best,
M. Grumblehog

Sheepish

I forget that Mushroom is relatively well trained which allows me certain pleasures in life like fresh flowers in a bouquet (scraggly or otherwise), toilet paper ON its roll, and no poop in the living room. I forget that Fergus is not yet that well trained. He has a vague notion that he's not supposed to be on the kitchen counter, but, the cutest (and therefore highly forgivable) part was that he genuinely had no idea that I hadn't put these fresh, yummy, outdoor-smelling things on the counter just for his enjoyment.

Two years I've had this broken bird: a found object: perhaps stolen. It is very dear to me and it's time it was put back together.

News

I spent the evening doing something I never do, watching the news and the political speeches. This also means, typically, calls back and forth to my parents to share opinions and swap curse words over various things said and done.

Scraggly Bouquet II

Once arranged, I found them quite pretty and decided to photograph them.

Scraggly Bouquet

While in the alley, I gathered some of these weedy flowers (buttercups?) to make a little bouquet I fondly nicknamed "scraggly bouquet".

Rain II

Today I read a poem by Raymond Carver that made me want to pull out my camera and shoot, even if it was just simple photos. Something about whiling the day away "working" on anything but the real work at hand. So, I headed out into the alley in the pouring down rain to prove to myself that I could make a nice image just in my alley and just for the hell of it. I tend to forget this now and then.

Later, when I was reading more poetry late at night, and J had the TV on mute as he usually does, the subtitles came up and said [train careening], which I thought was odd since I never thought that careening implied a sound. In the interest of continually tring to expand my vocabulary I looked up careening just to be sure I was right and I found this RIDICULOUS usage note at the bottom of the dictionary entry:

"Usage Note: The implication of rapidity that most often accompanies the use of careen as a verb of motion may have arisen naturally through the extension of the nautical sense of the verb to apply to the motion of automobiles, which generally careen, that is, lurch or tip over, only when driven at high speed. There is thus no reason to conclude that this use of the verb is the result of a confusion of careen with career, "to rush." Whatever the origin of this use, however, it is by now so well established that it would be pedantic to object to it."

Oh yes, PEDANTIC to object...I do say.

Rain I

Today it rained all day, and I mean real rain, the streaming down the window in rivulets kind of rain.

Onion Totem

I was prepping dinner today, when I noticed how I had placed the onions to be sliced on the cutting board, and they looked like a pink and white totem pole to me.

New Posts are Hidden

For those of you who aren't using a feed or a blog reader of some sort, you may be interested in knowing that there are NEW blog posts, they are just hidden behind these because they go in chronological order. Click on most recent to read about our camping trip.

Split Frame

Pink Dots

Sketches (Lines)

Scroll down for seven photos:

Warped

The building is made of all kinds of warped metal that reflects things in weird ways. Here's a look at the Space Needle and the Monorail. But, when I look at these, I am still trying to sort out in my mind where the person is going to go. I definitely consider these scouting trips and the resulting photos as sketches working towards the final piece.

Scouting

Today I went to the Seattle Center, specifically the Experience Music Project, on a scouting trip. It's a Frank Gehry building and you can read more about it here.


I am thinking of doing one of my portrait sessions here next week. But, I am not sure it's right for portraiture, or maybe I just haven't found the right person yet. It's hard to know whether this building and all the cool surfaces will make interesting settings and backgrounds or will take too much away from my subject.

Coffee

Still feeling a little guilt over missing those days in May, as much as I tell myself that it's ok. Took an early morning "insurance" shot of our morning coffee sitting on our new awesome log table (made with a chainsaw, bought in Montana).