the park, according to my dslr

I'm in Texas this week! Here's what a day at the park looked like:

1. The water here is a tad icky // 2. My brother getting to know his nephew // 3. Two artistic renditions of the word "antiquity" //
4. DUCKS // 5. My mom having a ball with her grandson

Spike

This week has been busy. I helped my uncle photograph a wedding, and took some "family" portraits of a girl with her two cats. I'm currently on an airplane heading out to my mom's house to shoot her author photos. Though it's only April, I think I can officially mark this as the year of the Accidental Photographer.

See ya'll on Monday.

So much for the afterglow

Remember when Tiana Godfrey took dreamy photos of Seve and myself? In particular, the jumping shot from this post? Well, Everclear wants to use that photo for the cover of their upcoming album (out in June, I think?) Tiana wrote me asking if this would be all right, to which I replied OF COURSE ARE YOU KIDDING YES.

As Tiana put it, "Your feet will be famous amongst the late 90's pop music fans out there." I'd like to add "post-grunge" in there for good measure, but either way, it sounds good to me.

Simon at 6 months

Technically 6 1/2  months . . .

Simon's accomplishments:
Waking on his own between 7-8 AM and just playing quietly by himself
Sleeping through the night!
Crawling, rolling, sitting up, & flopping like a mad fool.
Finally giggling.
Reaches out for me to pick him up.
Loves baby food. So much.

Simon's unfortunate accomplishments:
Not a fan of the sippy.
Doesn't really talk or scream anymore . . . just one long solid (and monotone?) note of noise.
Had to lower the crib because he can stand while holding on to the side.
Chasing down and chewing on cords.
Loves to be loud loud LOUD during quiet moments (such as: church).

Simon's achievements in nobody's eyes but mine:
Smooth plumbing . . . makes poop face during every feeding.
Complete indifference to the outdoors . . . grows quiet and still (shall I say reverent?)
Makes noise every single time you put a finger to his mouth . . . not sure how to explain this . . . the "wubba bubba" if you "strum" his lips. Apparently there's much debate to the name of this gesture.
Loves to be naked. So much.

When I asked Seve for his input on this list ("What are some of Simon's 6-month developments?") he added "He makes a mean grilled cheese."

Goodbye, Picnik

I'm trying to decide what I want out of this blog. Blog, what do I want out of you? What were you when you were born? What are you now? Will we still be friends when I'm 30? 40? Do you bring me joy? Do you challenge me? Have you replaced my private journal? Do you coax me out of my shell? Is that really what my hair looks like from the back? Should I get it cut? Layers? Bob? Perhaps some color? Ombre?

Got a little lost there.

For anyone bemoaning the demise of Picnik, I'd like to recommend Gimp. It's not as user-friendly as Picnik (there's no button directly titled "Blemish Fix"), but it's a free Photoshop-esque program and I use it for all my photos. It's totally worth the time it takes to play around and get to know it (and you can still fix all your blemishes if you so desire). Check it out here.

Or, and I'm not sure why this hasn't been expressly stated instead of merely hinted at, Picnik is simply being moved into Google+ and retitled Creative Kit, a transition that's been happening for some time. So if you haven't succumbed already, create a Google+ profile (you don't have to replace your Blogger profile . . . I linked and then unlinked them to make the process easier as far as transferring info went). When you're all set, select or upload the photo you'd like to edit and in the top left you'll see "Creative Kit." Enjoy.

BUT not every feature on Picnik has been moved over to Creative Kit - such as the Frames option (for making those round photos bloggers love so much). Perhaps that's why there aren't banners anywhere annoucing Creative Kit as the savior of Picnik . . . but it's rumored that all the other features will move over now that Picnik is officially closed. The rumor mill also suggests Picnik will soon be offered on CD for purchase. So, hmm.

Love of my life

So far he has job interviews for:

Memphis.

And.

A tiny town in Nevada with a population of 800. Supposedly Mark Twain was born there. Not "his mother labored and popped out a great noveliest" born there, but Samuel Langhorne Clemens failed as a minor here and decided to become MARK TWAIN, writer and humorist, born there.

We'll go where the job is, but  . . . well, I'm more of an Elvis fan than a Mark Twain fan. But it's rockabilly either way, right?

Cool Cat

Have any of you heard of Alex Boyé? Or seen this Coldplay cover circulating Facebook? Well, Seve and I went to his concert this weekend thanks to a family/theatre connection that got us some free tickets. To be honest, I didn't research him before going - I was under the impression we were in for a jazz night or something. It wasn't jazz, but man oh man did we have an amazing time! Like, a black-hipster-MoTab-member-Ray-Charles-impersonating-jokester good time.

For one of his numbers he asked members of the audience for a hat, noting he was looking for something a little more interesting than a baseball cap. We just so happened to don Simon out in his new hat that night . . .

This hat, in fact:

And Mr. Boyé savored in its ridiculousness, saying, "Are you kidding? I look like Urkel!" And, you know, used it anyway:

Later that night, Simon got to meet Alex (and get his hat back):

Look at dem cool cats.

Picky

During singlehood, one of the first questions I'd ask a new roommate was "So what kind of music do you like?" to which I almost always received the reply, "Oh, I like everything." Which was usually true, and that's fine, and the mark of a open mind, but little did they know about the picky bi#ch they'd just moved in with. I'm so picky I don't even prescribe to a specific genre of music, but rather ten or so artists who I listen to all the time. Actually, not "ten or so," but specifically The Ten. Because, you know, the picky pound-sign-female-dog thing. And on that rare occasion when I find a new artist, The Ten does not become The Eleven. The new artist replaces an old one and I don't even bother to sugarcoat the blow as I remove them from my rotation.

It's not that I only allow ten artists to exist in my life, it's just that old tastes naturally fall away as I get older and wiser and realize the Smashing Pumpkins were only great when I was in high school. I look back on them fondly and might play a tune here or there the same way I'll glance at the photo of an ex-boyfriend. But just as with an old flame, I'm not about to call them up again and rekindle the relationship.

I'm not going to list The Ten, but rather inform you that a ten-or-less mindset dominates all my tastes. Fashion, film, literature, etc. This particular post will center on footwear, which I can never get my pickiness to raise any higher than The Six. So, meet pair #6, the beauties that managed to snag my interest, penetrate my pocketbook, and, of course, replace a previous contender this week. So long, black wedges! Hello, navy & white striped espadrilles!

And Happy Friday the 13th! Let's watch The Shining and play some Smashing Pumpkins.

Creepy crawlies

There's been a lot of creepy-crawling going on at our house lately. Forwards, backwards, sideways . . . let's just say I find myself more out of breath than I'm typically accustomed to just trying to keep up with this little guy. 

Seve and I saw a movie last night; gosh, what was it called? Thirsty Tournament? Parched Parade? Starving Activities? Anyway, it's about these two Amish kids who are handpicked by Lady Gaga & Pals to participate in a Camping to the Death arena thing. Sounds hokey, but it was actually very moving. I even teared up when the youngest Amish girl was killed by a javelin. Kids these days.

Huntin down dem eggs

Happy Easter! Hope yours was great!

Black jeans, Green leather

I'm not quite sure what to say right now, except that I had a bad day, but here are pictures of me from a good day. I've realized a lot of my portraits involve me wearing my favorite black jeans and green leather jacket. Perhaps I need to shake things up a bit.

Aloha

Simon is exactly 6 months old today. For his half-birthday, he got to meet his great grandparents for the first time, on the day they returned home from their mission to Hawaii. We're so glad to have them back! Though I'm sure Oregon "sunshine" doesn't compare to Hawaii sunshine.

Rough Terrain

Here are some shots of my cousin Monika I took this weekend that I'm considering entering into Show & Tell's April photo challenge.

Hey Mormons! Wasn't Conference great? I actually got horribly sick on Saturday and lucidly fell in and out of sleep while Seve kindly streamed the first sessions on his laptop for me. Sunday I kicked myself out of bed and joined some family for the last session, a decision I both do and don't regret. Let's just say I've tucked myself back into bed now.

Elder Evans talk really touched me. The bit about keeping the sharing of the gospel to normal and natural circumstances, and not, you know, being . . . obnoxious about it? I have a hard time talking about my faith with others, even fellow members. I'm not sure why; I know I have a testimony and I'm proud of the decisions I've made in life, and therefore shouldn't feel awkward or ashamed about sharing them, but whenever confronted with a fellow member who is doubting or a stranger who is curious, I close up. Words escape me. I don't even know where to begin; I become consumed with this fear that I'm going to offend or weird out the person I'm talking to.

It's not just my faith, though. Goodness, I can't even talk about photography with people for fear of sounding like a know-it-all. What makes you feel this way?

Anyway, I admire those of you who can speak of the gospel so articulately and eloquently, and recognize how to normally and naturally bring it up, because religion is rarely ever easy territory.