30 November 2017

more is more

I like it here. I like the quiet, I like how every draft feels like a fresh piece of paper. I'd like to keep showing up here with words and photographs, I'd like to maintain the flow. I don't know if I'll be able to, but I'm going to try. I don't want to be known for my ebb. would rather be remembered for my flow.

I know I'll look back at these entries in five or ten (or even twenty) years and see myself through a terrifically specific lens and I'll be grateful for it. I think my children will too. 

thank you kindly for reading, friends. onward and upward! december, she waits. 

29 November 2017

this time last year

november 2016's sixty second photograph and if I've learned anything at all in life, it's to keep the words 'thank you' on mindful repeat. thank you, thank you, thank you.

(music by my favorite, mr. moses sumney)

28 November 2017


26th street fleamarket// new york city// may 2016

rose festival city fair photobooths// portland, oregon// june 2009

junk shop// decatur street// new orleans// september 2014

my bathroom mirror// portland, oregon// 11/11/11

madrona motor court inn// avenue of the giants highway 101// phillipsville, california// june 2014

bollywood theater// portland, oregon// october 2015

16 to savannah, georgia//september 2017

oregon state line// cross country move// march 2007

howard finster's paradise garden// summerville, georgia// march 2015

wigwam village motel// cave city, kentucky// august 2010

wigwam village motel// cave city, kentucky// june 2017

rasmussen farm// hood river, oregon// october 2009

flutter// mississippi street// portland, oregon// january 2010

99-W drive-in concession stand// newberg, oregon// september 2013

amy's bathroom mirror// portland, oregon// september 2010

victoria's bathroom mirror// san francisco// october 2010

26th street fleamarket// new york city// may 2016

union station// portland, oregon// january 2011

lakewood fleamarket// atlanta, georgia// september 2005

27 November 2017

yet absolutely, exactly, there

"it's a pleasure for me. the process of photographing. being physically in the world, eyes open, attentive, sensing, and at some point, connecting. to be in the world and of the world. to be, at the same time, out of your head, yet absolutely, exactly, there. it's thrilling when your eyes get ahead of your brain."

-henry wessel

26 November 2017

puffy vests and garnet rings and sunsets

my friend tracy lost her mom this week, unexpectedly. I cried when I heard, could feel the heartbreak one hundred times over.

today, she wrote something really beautiful.

beautiful because it comes from a profoundly brave, honest place, but also because it comes from a deeply painful, nearly unthinkable place. I love her for writing it. I know how hard it was. I wish I didn't but I do. I know. 

your mom would have been so proud, tracy. you will see her in every wide open sky, every technicolor sunset, she will show up again and again in the most unexpected places. I know this to be true. I do. 

25 November 2017

cabins, plural

well. I really fell off the nablopomo wagon. and I was doing so well there, folks. I WAS DOING SO WELL. lemme tell you what happened. 

first, I spent last weekend at a friend's cabin nestled in the woods, far, far away from internet connection. then I spent four more days in a different cabin, nestled in a different woods, also far, far away from any internet connection. and I knew this might happen but I think maybe I thought there might be super magical internet powers floating around out there in the woods.

as it turned out, there were no super magical internet powers floating around out there in the woods.

which, actually, was a good thing. a great thing, a terrifically magical thing. real time without internet or cel phone reception is the new american luxury, folks. I read books, wrote with a real pen on real paper, played board games, built fires, roasted things. and talked. a lot. to be clear, these are all things I do in real life, but it's an entirely different experience without the monstrous distractions we now all live with every day. we listened to the radio. not spotify, not itunes, the radio. THE RADIO. I did not realize this option still existed outside of the car. 

nablopomo streak blown (quite monumentally, I might add) but for nearly six days, I did not feel the pull to compulsively check things every ten minutes. as it turned out, I needed real internet-free time. I really needed it. like, bad. 

19 November 2017

this is a picture I did not take

of ava in her dingy pajama bottoms and her pink star wars tee shirt, dancing to the cure in front of the fireplace of the old cabin in the woods where we stayed this past weekend, while sun poured in through paned windows and I made pancakes in accidentally odd shapes and celebrated every time I managed to successfully flip one over.  

17 November 2017

a word

to the woman who sat behind me and sobbed during the noon showing of Lady Bird, I feel you.