.standing at the door.

Hello dear ones! I hope that those of you who are State side enjoyed a wonderful time with your loved ones this Thanksgiving weekend! There is so much to be thankful for and I for one am thankful for all of you! Seriously. :O) For stopping by and saying hello. Thank you.

This last week has kicked my butt. Nablopomo has kicked my butt. So, I am awfully whooped! But be that as it may, there are beautiful things about to take place. I can feel it.

My heart has gone through so many different emotions in the last several days and I know this upcoming week will only intensify those feelings. Anticipation is probably the most profound at the moment. I am standing in front of a door, several doors actually, each one opening up to a new opportunity to live, to experience, to share. Tomorrow, I have an interview with a local charity that has been aiding many refugees who have been relocated here in Nashville. More on that after the interview. There's a good possibility that I will be displaying some of my photographs in a local bookstore. So many other things in the works that my heart is thrilled and scared at the same time! I cannot even begin to tell you how important all these possibilities are to me right now. My hope is to come back here in a few days to report news of doors flying wide open. . . and of me, humbly walking through them. Until then, have a wonderful week, all of you!

.22::30.a note from heaven

A very dear woman in our family passed away several days ago. Today, we gathered around her closest of family and friends, remembering and honoring the life she lived. She was a sweet soul that gave her heart to everyone that she made contact with. Her selfless acts of kindness and love touched so many lives. It's so very rare to meet and know someone with such a beautiful spirit. Today, I want to share with you a poem she wrote 26 years ago, in honor of the passing of her husband.

A Note from Heaven
by Eliza Bell Williams

I've found the true meaning of Grace
since I've met my Savior face to face.
I feel well and young and glad
No one here is ever sad.
There's beautiful flowers in every room
You can't imagine the sweet perfume.
Pearly gates and golden street
Smiles from everyone you meet.
Lots of babies to love and hold
Children everywhere and never a scold.
There's not a crutch or walking stick
Everybody is well, nobody is sick.
Everyone loves each other
Just like a family, sister or brother.
There's fruit on most every tree
All can hear and all can see.
This home is pure delight
And as the Bible says, "Jesus is the Light."
Live your life to the fullest, then receive your crown
And I'll be here waiting to show you around.
~Your Loved One

.today's gratitude::III.

Today I am grateful. . .

. . . for family.
. . . for heritage.
. . . for history.
. . . for the legacies of loved ones whose lives were well lived.
. . . for seeing the smiles on loving faces in the midst of tears and heartache.
. . . for the reminder that life is too short to be consumed with ourselves.
. . . for the inspiration to live the best life possible.
. . . for the rainbow that greeted us after we said our final farewells.

.today's gratitude::II.

Today, I am grateful. . .

. . . for memories. All the good, and maybe not so much all the bad.
. . . for gentle whispers.
. . . for tender glances.
. . . for those moments when silence speaks volumes.
. . . for peace.

.21::30.the porfolio

Building my portfolio. It's something I've been working on for the last couple of years. As many of you would agree, I believe it is an ongoing process. This year, however, I feel as if I have hit some enormous wall that stands 10 feet thick, with heights stretching 500 miles beyond the stratosphere. My creativity pool has been sitting stagnant for far too long.

Since moving back to Nashville from Lexington, it seems as if I've sorta lost my sense of direction as to where I want to go with my photography. A friend of mine ,who is also trying to pursue her photographic passions, asked for some advice on how to get out of a "photographic rut." Ironic, because I feel like I'm in the same boat, yet I was able to give her some suggestions. In addition, I also gave her a series of questions to ask herself in order to come to a better understanding of where she is and where she may want to be with her photography. What's funny is that I never thought to ask myself those same questions. Until now.

Find out what you really like photographing. What are you drawn to? What kinds of photos do you find yourself wishing you had taken? Study them. What do you like about them? When you take your photos, what are you trying to convey?

Honestly, I find myself drawn to people, still life, nature. I'm drawn to the use of color, or lack there of, lighting, location, subject, emotion. When I think of the photos I wish I had been the one to take, I think of the works of some of my favorite photographers like Jenny Zarins, David Eustace, French Ruffenach, David duChemin, Steve McCurry, to name a few. Just like many art students learn from studying the works of the Masters, I feel the same practice applies to students of photography. Do I admire the Mona Lisa because of her smile? Or do I admire this painting because of the detail in the background? How did DaVinci do it? Do I admire Steve McCurry's image of the Afghan Girl because she is a beautiful woman? Or do I admire it because of the color, the lighting, the emotion captured in this frame? Had it been me there behind the lens that day, how would I have made this same photograph? I am not saying to go out there and copy someone elses work. No.No.NO. What I am saying is that we must spend time studying those elements we are drawn to in an image, whether it be the type of lighting, the tone of the image, etc., and find a way to apply those same elements into our own creative works.

Bottomline: Practice does make perfect, or at least brings us closer to it.

Now that I am rolling all these questions in my head, I realize I really need to work on some ideas, actually put them down on paper, and get some photoshoots going! Brainstorming is such a wonderful thing. Setting attainable goals is always a good way to light a fire under your bum too! My hope is to get a few more shoots with models in before the end of the year. Next dilemma: Location! Location! Location! And the scouting begins!

.20::30.

Remember there's no such thing
as a small act of kindness.
Every act creates a ripple
with no logical end.
~Scott Adams

Words fail me this evening. A very special, most tenderhearted soul left this earth in the middle of the night, softly in her sleep. A most loving wife, mother and grandmother. A sweet, kind, and caring friend. We will miss you dearly Eliza Bell.

She openeth her mouth with wisdom;
and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
She looketh well to the ways of her household,
and eateth not the bread of idleness.
Her children arise up, and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praiseth her.
Many daughters have done virtuously,
but thou excellest them all.
Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain:
but a woman that feareth the Lord,
she shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands;
and let her own works praise her
in the gates.
~Proverbs 31:26-31

.today's gratitude.

With Thanksgiving only a week away, I wanted to go ahead and start my list of things I am thankful for. So today, I am grateful. . .

. . . for new friends.
. . . for old friends.
. . . for new opportunities.
. . . for second chances.
. . . for hugs (both virtual and actual).
. . . for laughter.
. . . for encouragement.

Friends, today, I am grateful for you.

.19::30.

Some people have known since they came out of their mother's womb that they would grow up to become photographers. For me, as much as I have always been fascinated by the art, I had never truly considered it until I made a trip out to Arizona for a mini family reunion almost seven years ago. For years, I had told my aunt that when my youngest cousin, Chelsea, who is half Navajo, was to have her kinaaldá ceremony, I wanted to be there for it. Unfortunately, the stars did not align themselves for me at that time therefore, I was not able to make it. So it was on this trip, several months later, that I made a point that I was going to make a series of photos of Chels as if she had been pulled out of a different era. These are a few of the shots taken that day.

It was probably one of the most memorable experiences in my life. The family all packed into several large pickup trucks, 4 wheeling it deep into the gorgeous Monument Valley. It is such a beautiful and sacred place. Then to have Chels transform in front of me and go from being this spunky teenager into this beautiful, young Navajo woman really took my breath away. We'd jump out of the truck and walk up and down sand dunes, take some shots with the amazing rock formations in the background, and jump right back into the truck to the next spot. It was as if we had this whole place to ourselves. It was so amazing. And fun!

When I got back to Nashville, I got the film developed and was so proud of what I had captured that day. Moreso, I was glad to hear how excited Chels was when she saw the pictures. It was in those moments out there, with the wind in my hair and sand in my shoes, that I realized photography was truly my passion. These photos are reminders to me to continue to pursue that passion. And to give my cousin a call. ;o)

.18::30.

There must be a glitch on Google or something. The post I just worked on, disappeared into thin air. Not the happiest camper at the moment. Looks like it's gonna have to go up mañana 'cause I'm just a little too pooped out to do it over. Sorry folks!

.a gift from within.

You give but little when you
give your possessions. It is
when you give of yourself
that you truly give.
~Kahlil Gibran

Anything that has real
and lasting value is
always a gift from
within.
~Franz Kafka

.17::30.lee hall

Lee Hall. That was his name. He poses here with two sisters whose names I do not know. They were three out of eleven children, born and raised here in middle Tennessee. Lee was my Great Grandfather. He died of a massive stroke in the early 30s, in the midst of the Great Depression. That is all I know of him.

When I sifted through some of the old photos that my Grandmother had collected in an old Hawaiian Hosts chocolate box, it was this one that really stood out for me. Perhaps it was because it was the only photo that was mounted onto a mat. Maybe it was also because it was only one of very, very few photos I have ever seen of my Grandmother's side of the family. As I pointed my camera to capture the image above, I noticed something. Their faces. The eyes of these two sisters seemed dull compared to his. Even now, as I write this, I realize that there is so much more that wants to be said from this photo. So much more that I want to know. What was he like? Was he a quiet man? Did he like to tell stories? I can almost hear a man speak with that ol' southern drawl. Was he a loving man? Did he like to dance? There are so many questions that I want to ask. My Grandmother was only five when he passed away. I wonder, if she were still here, what she would have told me about what she remembered of her father.

Time is priceless. Life is so fragile and, so precious. I realize tonight that in order for me to have any of my questions answered, I need to make a point, make the time to visit the only family members still alive who may be able to know. When I spoke to my Grandfather last night, he informed me that my Grandmother's closest cousin, who is in her 90s, is suffering from dementia in a nursing home. This is a woman who had so much spunk that when she was pulled over by the State Trooper for driving too slow on the interstate, she told him to shove off! Another relative, also close to my Grandmother, recently suffered from a series of minor strokes, but fortunately she is recuperating and, is going through rehab. Thank goodness. It's been too long since I've seen either of them. It's time that I change that.

The key to unlocking the doors to the past may simply be a conversation with a wonderfully aged soul still living in the present. Life is so fragile and, precious. Time is so priceless.

.i'm not pregnant, i'm just fat.

Okay, I realize that I had gained a substantial amount of weight right before, and during my pregnancy with my daughter. The excuse, "I just had a baby" went out the window about two years ago. I have always struggled with my weight. As a kid, I was always chubby, and was constantly reminded of it. There were times in elementary school when I'd be called "Fatty-Kathy" or "Fathryn." Kids can be so mean. I was never "obese" just, as my also horizontally challenged father would say, "pleasantly plump." When I started working full-time for a craft retailer, I slowly started to lose weight. Not that I was trying anything. Overtime I came to my all-time thinnest. I was 140 pounds when I first moved to Kentucky. 4 years later, and back in Tennessee, I am now 170 pounds. Thirty pounds. Doesn't sound like much. The problem has been trying to find a way to get rid of it. Lyposuction is NOT an option! ;o)

Honestly, I had been trying to "ignore" the fact that I no longer feel comfortable in this body. Awkward. That's the best way to describe how I feel. Awkward, because clothes never really seem to fit in the right spots. Boobs not big enough. Waist too wide. I am a squishy rectangle with a head, arms, and legs. It's hard enough when you struggle with your own self-image. It's even harder when a member of your hubby's family says on the phone, "I haven't seen you in a wee while. Are you still fat or have you gotten thin?" My response, "NO. I'm still fat." WTF?!

This is not quite the "happy" post I wanted to put up today. I guess I felt compelled to share a more vulnerable side of me. Vent maybe. If I could, I'd hire myself a personal "stylist" that way they could help me regain a sense of confidence with the figure and face that I've got, because right now, I just don't feel like it's good enough to see the light of day.

.16::30.

Where in this wide world can man
find nobility without pride,
friendship without envy,
or beauty without vain?
Here, where grace is served with muscle
and strength by gentleness confined
Her serves without servility;
he has fought without enmity.
There is nothing so powerful,
nothing less violent.
There is nothing so quick,
nothing more patient.
~Ronald Duncan "The Horse"

.untitled.

Here lately, I've been thinking a lot about Kentucky, specifically how much I'm actually missing it. I miss the drives to the small towns right outside of Lexington. I've been thinking about some of the specific things that I miss. The horse farms. Small grocers. Quaint coffee shops like The Hub in downtown Danville. The brick red walls covered in artwork by various local artists and photographers. Don't get me wrong, Nashville has a TON of coffee shops and cafés, but today, I miss this one.

.half way through.

Yay! Day 15 and still going! The last few days have been rough! I find myself drained, and nearly brain dead by the time I get the chance to sit down and post, which explains why I feel as if I'm just rambling about stuff that probably doesn't make any sense to anyone else and, why I can't seem to spell rite, and, and, and. . . I'm enjoying it! Ha! Have a wonderful and beautiful week everyone! I'll see you back tomorrow with hopefully something with more substance!

P.S. If you haven't seen this adorable movie yet, you must! It is such a sweet, sweet film. You will tear up in the first 20 minutes, if that says anything.

.15::30.

Nothing says warmth like the early morning sun and a good cup of java!

.it's been a long day.

Tonight's post is going to be short.
And sweet.
:o) Hope this finds you groovy!

.14::30.

I found this very cool clip on YouTube. It features some fantastic photographs set to my favorite song off the soundtrack to the movie Amélie. Hope you all are having a great weekend so far!

.look out! toddler with a camera!.

Today, I am convinced we've got a little photographer-in-training in our household. Earlier this afternoon, Miss A. and I made a trip out to McKay's Used Bookstore to sell some old DVDs we wanted to get rid of. We walked in, gave the clerk our blue bin full of miscellaneous movies, and then sat down on what was probably an old, wooden church pew, awaiting the moment when the numbers #743 flashed on the screen. I decided not to browse around this massive store with hopes that A. would stay in one place and behave. I did not even want to imagine the scenario of her going berserk, running up and down the aisles, pulling out books, and screaming for whatever reason, because at times, that's what two year olds like to do. Let's not be THAT kid today, okay? As we made ourselves comfy as one can get on wooden pews, I felt it was only fair to the little one to allow her to play with my little PowerShot camera to help pass the time. I've let her play with it before, but there was something different about this time. I noticed that she tried hard to remember to NOT put her fingers over the lens. Also, she was looking at her surroundings through the LCD screen with more concentration before pressing the button. She was too cute. It was as if she was a mini photojournalist.

One of her last shots was of a girl playing a hand held game standing beside a little boy wearing a maroon colored cape that she walked up to. I made her ask their Mom if it was okay to take the picture first. A. was mesmerized. Soon, our numbers appeared across the screen. I went to the clerk to pick up what monies I actually got from the movies and started to head towards the exit. She started to throw a fit as she realized we were now leaving the place full of books and where the little boy with the maroon colored cape was. As I'm carrying her out the door I reminded her that she had pictures of the place and of the little boy in her camera. The tears stopped. She smiled a big smile, and then everything was groovy. :o) The above photos were all shot by her, without any influence from me. Not bad for a two and a half year old, huh? ;o)

.13::30.photocraft

When it comes to purchasing craft books of any kind, I'm pretty picky. Very picky. I flip through it over and over, coming to a decision as to whether or not I can truly see myself creating any of the projects in it. Too simple: forget it! Too difficult: why bother? Good photos accompanied by sufficient, well written directions are extremely important. Another thing I look for is a thorough and reasonable supply list. I try to steer clear of books that have repeated items that are difficult to obtain and/or are too costly. Above all else, I look for inspiration!

As photographers, as well as crafters, we all try to find creative and innovative ways to display our photographs. If you're like me and need something that goes beyond the iron-on transfers on t-shirts (not that there's anything wrong with those awesome shirts!) this book fits the bill. Photocraft: Cool Things to Do with the Pictures You Love, a book put together by Caroline Herter, Laurie Frankel, and Laura Lovett, is full of ideas that are both practical, as well as sentimental.

What I love about this book is the fact that these ladies spared nothing to make sure their readers had all the information they needed. From specifics about the supplies: their different options and uses for each; to tips on how to get various looks by digitally enhancing your images. This book is a wonderful source and would highly recommend it to anyone who is searching for ways to incorporate their photos into works of art!

.12::30.

In today's post, I actually want to direct your attention to another blog. You may all get tired of my mentioning photographer David duChemin's name here, but I felt compelled to share what he had to say in his blog today. For those of us who have struggled with the labels of "pro," "semi-pro," and "amateur," trying to figure out in what category we truly belong in, David's comments on that topic were like a shot in the arm. The good kind. :o) Need a label? How about, very simply: photographer. Nothing more. Nothing less.

.when the sun goes down.

There's just something so beautiful about sunsets. The display of color on a canvased sky. The way the sun casts its golden hue upon everything it touches, giving them such a magical radiance. In Autumn, that radiance gleams a hundred fold. I love this time of year. I have to admit, I'm gonna hate seeing the last leaf fall.

.norah jones::fall.

I want this album when it comes out.
Also, I want that RUG!!

View Norah Jones' new single, Chasing Pirates, here.

.11::30.remembrance.

It was several years ago when I captured this shot. What I can recall of that moment was that I wasn't looking for it. I had passed by the flag post there before and never paid any attention to it. It wasn't until I pointed my camera towards the windows on the building across the street that I noticed its reflection on the window. The flag. Our flag. At that moment, it was as if someone was trying to gain my attention, silently pleading that I remember. . .

. . . for the men and women who risked and gave their lives for their country, here and abroad. . . we remember you.

.whew! that was close!.

Alright, so far so good. I'm on Day #10 with this NaBloPoMo thing and I'm not about to give in! Today has been "one of those days," you know the kind where nothing goes the way it should. Plans thrown out the window and stress levels increase. But it's all good now. Kat is calm, collected and nackered! Ha! And as much as I'd like to chat a little longer, I'm gonna have to call it a day! Hope everyone is doing oh-so-groovy out there!

.10::30.

Today, I would have much rather been here.

Peace.
Quiet.

Did I already say peace?

.09::30.she's glowing.

For my best friend who is glowing, and growing, more and more
as the day of arrival approaches.

You are beautiful.



And she will be too.

.thanks, mom.

When I think about all the reasons why I love photography, I think about those childhood memories of my Mom taking constant pictures of my younger sister and I, making us pose in front of some landmark before allowing us to roam. Ha! At the time, especially if we weren't in the mood, it was hard to appreciate what she was doing. "Oh crap, Mom's bringing out the camera again! Hide!" But after the film was developed, we would all huddle on the couch, passing photos back and forth to each other, laughing our butts off as we remember the fun we had that day. Those pictures, especially of happier times spent with our friends and family, are worth more to me than all the riches in the world. We wouldn't have had any of them had it not been for my Mom and that camera of hers.

Lastnight, I stopped by her place after taking some photos of my very pregnant best friend and her husband. I wanted to show my Mom the pictures I took of my daughter and the mess that she made of the living room floor. During this excursion to my blog and flickr site, my Mom became enamored with my photos, going through each and every page. "It's like flipping through a huge album. Wow, YOU took these? I'm impressed." I couldn't help but feel like that little girl who just came home from school with an art project she just finished. There was a feeling of pride mixed with humility. My mother approved, and even though I didn't ask for it, I was grateful. So Mom, if you're reading this, thank you.

.08::30.

There is no other place that I'd rather be, than to spend an Indian Summer day at the lake, as the sun slowly descends, with the ones I love.

.not quite the milky way.

It's so easy as parents to get bent out of shape when our little ones get themselves caught up in a round of mischief. Say like when your toddler decides to sprinkle the entire living room floor with a new bottle of baby powder and then proceeds to dance in it while you are in the kitchen washing dishes. Or, dare I say, on Facebook? Did I mention that you just swept and cleaned the hardwood floors? After a brief moment summed up by the words "what-the-hell?!" and a Little Miss Thing being put into time-out, you walk into the living room, broom and dust pan in hand, and realize just how interesting this mess of lavender scented talcum powder looks on your floor. The tiny, random splotches suddenly become faraway galaxies, and miniature footprints become a sign of alien existence. Super Nanny would have probably lectured me for what I did next, but I didn't care. I pulled the little one out of time out, and for just a few minutes, let her dance amongst the stars. . . that is. . . before they were swept away. . . as *stardust*.