I ‘pushed’ this photo until I achieved an abstracted feel.
My youngest daughter and her flower girl, my granddaughter, waiting …
© 2004 lMc
This Zulu plant took root in my heart. There’s something life affirming about its crisp, clean, fleshy leaves and ability to tolerate low light and little water.
The stems have hearty bulbs with hemp-like snaking roots that weave themselves into a tight basket.
Last autumn I repotted it into a massive glass container adding geodes, crystals, nuts, bolts, Lego’s and small branches. I spent the long winter watching the roots wend their way around each other embracing the obstacles I placed in their path.
joy ~ caliroe
The theme this week is Solitary.
I was able to capture a number of shots that would fit the theme quite well but I kept coming back to this image. A slightly dry leaf standing alone under a metal-mesh table and chairs at a sidewalk restaurant.
The sun was brilliant and the shadows from the table and chairs were intriguing! Here was this little leaf — its stem a tiny exclamation point. I couldn’t look away.
joy ~ caliroe © 2013 lMc
Conducting the Symphony: Ode To A Dancing Water Fairie.
I took my sandals off to join in… someone passing by took that picture ~
joy ~ caliroe © 2012 lMc
I’ve traveled throughout this country and around the world while growing up. One constant besides my family was the sky, moon and stars. I simply knew it was the same sky no matter where I was on earth. The thought was comforting to a little girl.
Thirty years ago I settled in Colorado my adopted home state and now I know not all skies are alike! Oh, there are absolutely gorgeous skies in fabulous places but I love my big Western sky!
Now when I travel, if I can’t see a huge sky all around I feel claustrophobic.
Mt. Garfield shrouded in mystery
Arizona sky… traveling with my daughter years back. It took us twice the time to get where we were going because I kept pulling over and taking photos. Then she took over the driving and I had to shoot with my head halfway out the window ! ( I asked her once if she “could turn around at the next exit and drive past a field of cows again… “the sun’s so perfect?”
“No mom, I couldn’t!”
on the road again… © lMc
joy ~ caliroe
At times it’s challenging to appreciate the delicacy and intricate shapes of the blooms on my Christmas Cactus when I’m so easily distracted by the vibrant red color. That’s why I chose black and white for this shot. It reminds me of a Cockatoo.
Can Van Gogh forgive me for shooting these ‘Large Sunny Yellow’ Sunflowers in Black and White? I’m beginning to appreciate shape, form, line, shadow and texture over color most of the time. Forgive me Vincent….
More Sunflowers, smaller this time, peek out of some vines. © 2011 lMc
joy ~ caliroe
I have two landscape photos from my archives. It’s amazing how many ‘lost’ pictures are ‘discovered’ in files and boxes, as well as undeveloped film in canisters tossed aside in drawers.
I love photographic perspective in desert scenes, you can pretty much go anywhere with filters etc. to create a mood from any era. The shot directly below is from a trip I took to Arizona more than fifteen years ago with one of my daughters who was looking at schools for her Masters program.
The road between us felt lonely and stretched out, Although we had been in daily close contact, time away at St Johns College in Santa Fe grew her in ways we both didn’t quite understand.
We were silently trying to gain perspective on what our lives and futures were going to look like as mother and daughter and friends…together and apart.
In our valley there is a small lake next the Colorado River. Our family likes to explore, fish, watch duck fights and wave at rafters floating past When the sun sets behind the hills the entire area lights up like a flame!
Has it been that many decades since this same daughter I am traveling alongside in the story above was this tiny golden-haired nugget (below) illuminated by the brilliant setting sun?
joy ~ caliroe © lMc
When summer began last year — wildfires raged across Colorado leaving massive swaths of scarred earth. Char and debris lay alongside pristine wilderness.
The hot winds produced by the fires influenced the mild weather patterns we enjoy in our valley.
All summer long Monsoon’s blew through and instantly turned play-filled outdoor mornings into blustery, soggy, cold afternoons.
My grandchildren are hearty outdoor people like most Coloradans. They have a deeply feral nature. But when wild weather fluctuations took place and their friends took to the indoors… they continued to dig and explore to their hearts delight.
My youngest granddaughter is the dictionary definition of a free spirit. She acclimated to changes in temperature by wearing a swim suit all summer long! It’s a battle to get shoes on those feet!
Between cloud bursts she would run outside, hop on her tricycle and gleefully ride through puddles screaming like a Banshee. Afterward she took little cars and ran them along the dried mud tracks the trike wheels left behind.
She’d take huge chunks of sidewalk chalk and turn cold wet pavement into thick, creamy paintings. When skies hinted of another cloud burst she’d wait for plops and splashes of raindrops to melt and run the colors into abstract shapes.
Then she’d squeal and dance in the painting!
© 2010 lMc
© 2009 lMc
Every summer on Thursday evenings our downtown closes off Main Street for Farmers Market.
At four P.M. it’s downtown business as usual … an hour later the transformation is magical.
Alongside produce stands, you’ll find local performers freely sharing their gifts… musicians, magicians, jugglers, artists painting children’s faces and painting en plein aire, dancers of all types draw crowds… and there is so much food. There is the feel of a laid back festival.
The tree-lined street provides shade while people visit, eat… and mothers nurse babies.
Summer is lush here in its abundance of the fruits of all manner of labor.
Late Saturday morning at the local coffee shop a barista clears the floor under the counter to sweep and prepare for a second wave of customers. Light-falls on the chairs… across the floor… lines, shapes, forms, ripple-runs…. all within the basic element of stillness … this catches my breath.
© 2009 lMc
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