more here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pookacatpics/collections/72157607456515044/

http://www.bhphotovideo.com/c/product/560571-REG/Rollei_24613_Rolleiflex_MiniDigi_AF_5_0.html

It's a digital version of those old Rolleiflex cameras...I heart it...

My grandmother accused my mother of having itchy feet. I never liked that metaphor it seemed too much like athlete's foot of the soul.

My mother called herself a gypsy. I find that description more apt. We have the blood of Vikings and Celts in our veins, and come by our nomadic virtues naturally.

As I get older my feet begin to twitch with the urge to move on and on, over the next hill and to the next horizon. It's not that the grass is greener, it's just I haven't trod all over its expanse quite yet. I have to wonder if those soft green tuffs will cure this twinge of curiosity and movement...

I always get restless in the fall. Maybe I was a goose in a previous incarnation. I have this urge to travel, to get in the car and just drive—away. Maybe it’s a throw back to childhood and the anticipation of a new school year and all its possibilities.

In the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking of returning to school. I always feel nostalgic for college when the leaves start turning. I don’t want to go back because I’m unhappy with what I’m doing, I just can’t escape this idea I should be doing more…I need a challenge. I’m thinking about nursing school. This isn’t so out of left field as it seems. I have been thinking about nursing school for 3 years or more, but before I thought it was less a desire to be a nurse and more a desire to escape the Itemizer-Observer. Now I’m thinking it’s more of a “what if,” one of those nagging options that will haunt me to my grave.

I love my current job, and yet this idea lingers, which makes me think there is more to it than the need for a clear escape route from a miserable situation or nomadic blood. Then again, if I got a nursing degree I could live anywhere in the world. I could work with Northwest Medical Teams. I could give into that travel bug and still effect real, tangible change in the world—so maybe it is just itchy feet.

These are all in a special format that I'm experimenting with, which mimicks polariod transfers. I think it's kind of neat.



















There are more on my flickr page, here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pookacatpics/sets/72157622044327849/

I finally got some really fun actionis and brushes for photoshop. I can't wait to use these in my portrait work!

I think I may submit this to NPR:

I believe in the enlightenment of loss. When I was 15 my mother died. It was sudden, but relatively painless. I assume. Her heart quit, and with it my world changed forever. My mother was the main bread winner in the family. So, in addition to the barren space she left behind, my life became devoid of the familiar and comforting.

Less than two months after her death my father and I moved from a sprawling 2,000 square foot ranch-style house in the country, to a tiny two bedroom apartment in town. I was not allowed to keep my horse, cats or dog. They were divided among relatives and friends. Most of them I never saw again.

Just eight years later my father died as well. His heart stopped working right, but his death was far slower and far more traumatic. He was hospitalized before I left for a term abroad my senior year of college. I went anyway, leaving him behind in the ICU. I don't know if this was the right decision, but it's the one I made. While in Spain, I received a call from the night nurse tending my father. My father had crashed three times. They were able to revive him twice, but this last time: "Well, now we're just brutalizing him," the nurse said. I told them to shut the machines down and asked the nurse to stay with my father until he died. I hope the nurse kept his promise.

There are things I feel cheated on. I'll never have an adult parent/child relationship like the ones I see my friends enjoying today. My mother won't help me plan my wedding. My father won't walk me down the aisle. Neither will hold their first grandchild. I lost my most valued confidants and friends before I could fully appreciate them.

It would be easy to feel bitter about so much shortchanging, but there is another side to so much loss so early: perspective, empathy, unshakable fortitude, and fearlessness. "The worst has happened," I said to myself when the grief had ebbed," I survived. Now what?" Petty irritants, dramas and traumas lost their rough edges; life smoothed out. Fitting into the typical life mold no longer fit into my perspective. I couldn't fit, so I stopped trying and stopped worrying about it. Life’s too short for such futility. With my parents went my safety net in life. I had fallen to the ground, hit square on, and walked away. That is very liberating. The worst had happened. I had survived. Now what?

The last part of that statement, the question: “Now what?,” is the most important component. It keeps me grounded in the now, while pushing me to look forward. To take each day as it comes. Knowing the worst is behind me. Knowing I have already suffered the worst kind of loss and come away sane. This enlightening perspective allows me to live with less fear. I know without a bit of doubt I can weather anything life tosses my way. I now know the path through loss’s emotional desert, and, like any path, the more times I tread it the clearer my way becomes. The worst has happened. I have survived. Now what?

I got out to my car last night to find two mini chocolate bars perched snugly on the roof just above the driver's side door. I have no idea where they came from. I doubt they were from anyone I know as I park way to hell and gone at riverfront park. It was a very nice little gesture and it made me smile.

Work is good. I regret quitting my second job as my finances have pretty much tanked. I'm in debt more than I would like with no real way to climb out for about a year, so I'm just trying to float along for now. I'm not in dire straights, but I'm also not in the best position given the credit industry. Right now is not the time to be caring credit card debt, but what can you do? I've discussed it with my bank and I may be able to get a fixed interest credit line, but I have to come up with about $500 and close my other credit card. I'm weighing this option. I can't do anything until I get my tax return. The sucky part is, if I had stayed on at CM for another 6 months, I'd be pretty much debt free. Life's really a bitch sometimes, but I am much happier not working 60 hour weeks. I've done that for WAY too many years and it's not worth it. I really think I'd rather be worrying about how my credit card company is planning to screw me over in the next few months. Here are couple options available to them:

Cut my line of credit in half, thereby hurting my credit score and making it appear that I am over drawn, so they can then charge me the subsequent fees (believe it. it's happening to people like me with pristine credit as we speak)

They can jack up my interest rate. Thereby jacking up my minimum payment and making it hard to pay off what I owe. Up until now the rate has been very reasonable, but it's only a matter of time before they decide to make more money by sticking it to the people who actually pay their bills.

So far, my credit card company has been reasonable, but right now I am completely at their mercy and it's my own fault. If they start giving me shit I'm going to have to sell off my camera equipment, close my business and call it a bust. I hope it doesn't come to that, but you never know. Especially right now.

In brighter news, our holiday concert was a success. We have a new ED and I think I'll like working for him. My job is fun. My photo business is creeping along so I'm not completely sunk yet. I just won't be buying any property or doing anything fun for the next two years. Funny how things can change in 6 months.