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Entries in friends (61)


Winter, Suddenly

Monday it was 80° and Denver was bathed in the bright yellow sunlight of autumn.

Tuesday night it started to snow.

Yesterday morning on the way to work it looked like this:

If it seems a little jarring, well, it is.  But this whipsaw of weather is also one of Colorado's great charms in my opinion, that you can have snow on red leaves, or conversely, short-sleeves weather in February.  It gives us a communal experience of nature, something to talk about, something to look forward to.  It means we never bury our cute winter hats too deep in the basement because we wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to look like this:


Behind the Scenes

For what it's worth, this is the kind of houseguest I love: the kind who has some simple but inspired pan of deliciousness sauteing on the stovetop when I come home from work.  Also the kind who has noticed that I bring leftovers for lunch and so makes enough that I can eat it the next day too.  And it helps if that pan of deliciousness is comprised entirely of things that were in my kitchen cabinet but which I would never, in ten lifetimes, have thought to throw into a saute pan together.  (For the record, it involved garbanzos, tomatoes, and coconut milk.  Who would have thought?  She's a genius.)

Anyway, because I was so inspired by the care she was taking of me, and because she will soon be starting her own blog where she will share some of this genius, and because she was leaving to fly home this morning, I thought we should leave the curry simmering on the stove and go take another stab at some photos of her.  Luckily I had much more energy to bring to the task than I did last week.

356.365 50mm f2.8 1/200 ISO 200Isn't Amber beautiful?  Aren't her eyes the color of some intensely perfect Caribbean waters and don't you just want to dive in?  (That is not a trick of post processing.  They really are that amazing.)

And then, just because we're coming to the end of this 365 and it feels like a good time to pull back the curtain, a small glimpse of what a portrait shoot with me occasionally looks like:

It's amazing how ideal a world can look, with a little well-placed cropping.


A Day in the Life

morning, in four stepsThe day started in pitch black, with the yelping of the dog outside and the acrid, burning sulfer smell of a skunk attack wafting through my bedroom window.  Will climbed back into bed, announcing that our dog had an altercation and Will had put him in the backyard.  I looked at the clock.  It said 1:00am.  I rolled back over, groggily, and finished the night with the uneasy sleep of someone marinating in skunk fumes.

By sunrise I realized that this whole affair was probably my fault because I drank too much wine with our houseguest the night before and left the dog outside.  Obviously my penance would be to spearhead the disaster recovery efforts.  Google revealed the recipe for deskunkification and I hit up three stores before I found one open.

In case you ever need this semi-effective skunk remedy: 1/4 cup baking soda, 1 quart peroxide, 2 teaspoons dish soap.  And old clothes that you can throw away and rubber gloves.

This was a form of torture for me, and obviously also for Milo.

351.365 50mm f2 1/200 ISO 200So yeah.  All this excitement before 8:00.

I vow to lay off the sauce and head for work.

Work, work, work.  Something about Miss USA, drag queens, and Rosie O'Donnell.

Race home to pick up the child and see our houseguest who has a pot of green chile stew simmering on the stovetop and who, conveniently, was there to sign for the UPS package delivering my new lens.  I deserve this splurge, dog-skunk incident notwithstanding, because it's almost my birthday and I am almost finishing this 365 project.

Then, because she is awesome, and also because most of my friends have to agree to be photo subjects, and because I can not wait (obviously) to test drive the new lens, Amber agrees to put on mascara and be my guinea pig.

Amber is a chef, yogini, traveler, and all-around bright light who is busy dreaming up many cool things.  I am sure you'll hear more from her, here and elsewhere.  She is also eminently patient with me and my addled photographic fumblings.

I noticed during this brief shoot how much energy it takes to be creative and also how tired I was.  So we went home, ate green chile, limited our wine intake, and I collapsed into bed with my dog on the floor next to me, smelling faintly of skunk.


Long Memory

347.365 200mm f8 1/500 ISO 200My childhood friend, Rainy, came to Colorado this weekend for the first time in well over a decade.  I spent the weekend showing her around some of my favorite places in the high country, places so very different from where we grew up in North Carolina, but which evoke a certain familiar nostalgia for the rural children we were way back then.

Rainy remembers everything.  I mean everything.  She could probably tell you exactly what I was wearing on the day we met.  When we were four.

I, on the other hand, have a selective memory.  But what I do remember is now bathed in a warm golden light like it was captured on a roll of film from 1970-something, or like it has that fleeting melancholy feel of an Indian summer day.

348.365 38mm f5 1/80 ISO 400Old friend.  Long memories.  Golden light.  I like it that way.

photo courtesy of Will, and no, we haven't changed much since we were four



344.365 18mm f4 1/50 ISO 200This is delight:


best friend

late summer

taste of freedom

There is a joy in kinetic energy that I am appreciating in a whole new way.