Glacier Challenge 2010

Some of my favorites from the day.

Great event this year again.

Thanks Hannah!

kris and jess wedding (abstract)

......the best time celebrating the union of these two people.

........intended to be mysterious.

....have fun and .....................beautiful wedding!

..more fun soon.....

a week in the life of...

I spend quite a bit of time looking at these scenes.

I will probably continue this pattern.

Is there any hope?

You bet your glass of milk there is!

there are many ways to look at situations, people, lives.

hopeful, hoping, wrecked, wrecking--every feeling in between.

a greater part of our life is completely centered on feelings.

-those hard words spoken

-finishing the job

-holding a door

-friends

-music

-food

choices

all based on how they make us feel.

if you could detach from your feelings, would you?

many of us drown them

the life we lead ebbs and flows over feelings

running to and away from...

do our feelings equal our life?

how do you feel,,

how is your life?

all photos all the time?

So...I shoot all of the time. I don't write all of the time though, I wish I did.

Want in one hand and wish in the other...

This may as well be a photo-blog.

I shoot and process photos that inspire me just about every day.

Sharing them with you will be a delight for me, an invitation, if you will,

into my heart/mind/spirit.

please be gentle...or not ;)

hear today and gone tomorrow?

I think a ‘mid-life crisis’ is on the horizon. Usually this involves fast cars or motorcycles, and fast women. I’m not feeling that. I feel a sense of urgency with my life, my actions and what I will leave for my sons. Now that the dust from the stirrings of my youth has settled, life and a sense of direction seem to be becoming focused. I want to make sure the influence I have on my boys is rightly placed.

I wonder why writing is so hard for me. I enjoy reading...reading good writing. Maybe pride? It becomes quite a disability. I suppose it is pride that stops me from doing a lot of things. Dancing. I would love to be a good dancer, but there’s good old pride. Don’t want to look like a fool. Maybe the fools have it right. At least they get to dance.

A few years ago God placed ‘writing’ on my heart. Ever since I have been running away from that challenge with photography. Wow, He sure is patient! Lately it (the calling) seems to be creeping in again. That ‘still soft voice’ is stirring. I have been following an amazing magazine for the last few months-’The Sun”. Amazing grouping of poetry, fiction and true-to-life writing with awe inspiring photography. The only thing is- something seems missing. There is plenty of passion and creativity. I guess it would be missing Hope. The hope in the resurrection?

“He has placed eternity in our hearts.”

Maybe it would be a fun project to start a magazine. I would probably take the same name (out of complete respect) and change the spelling. “The Son’. A magazine with excellent writing, photographs, poems and personal testimonies. A magazine with hope.

The thing is, and it’s a big thing, it might involve writing. I mean-me writing. We’ll see?

(family) the delight of a father-is in the doing

(or the lament of Time)

It has been said that children spell love with: T-I-M-E

I had experienced an amazing occurrence last year,

right about this same time. My eldest son caught himself in a place

not to be desired and needed some time with his Father.

This is a normal human dynamic, though not extraordinary, it was to be.

See, the feelings one will store, like an old farmer whose crops did not yield; fearing for his family and the winter to come, can be lost in the hollows of a broken heart. It is a fathers nature to father, just like it is one’s nature for a tree to be tall, or a duck to return to its young or a marshmallow to taste sweet.

Simply put, with Kody home, all of the stars of my heart were in line once again. Not to say that time spent with mother was ill-fitting; on the contrary, it was best-fitting. (he was where he needed to be at the time he needed to be)

With that journey’s course run, I am left with the lament of a heart longing to be united with it’s purpose, once more. It is rather hard to describe the melancholy of relationship that occurs from the unraveling of two; nay four lives, weaved so seemingly tight: you can still see the tears at the ends. One could gather a pile of rags and lineaments and neatly hang them out to dry; they would still be their resembled selves: the once to-gether assembly of fine linen.

This journey has in it elements of rejoice and lament. To gather and experience one without the other is, in essence, to not have any of either. We need both to find the balance between the natural and (dare I say it?!), the super-natural.