Groundhog Day

                             

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Forgetting about Groundhog Day is typical for me. Having grown up south of the Mason-Dixon Line, Spring almost always seemed to come fairly early. Besides, it wasn't something you looked forward to with intense longing, almost desperate to escape long, dreary days of snow and ice. Our winters were fairly mild. Although we have four seasons up here, we still can't complain about long, bitter winters. We get off quite easy compared to those of you in the north.

So far this year, Old Man Winter has pretty much ignored us. We have had cold days and hard freezes at night —our lowest temperature of 9.6 degrees one night; yet, over all, winter has felt more like an unusually cold autumn. All that rain last year must have depleted our five-year supply, because we are sorely needing moisture here. Of course last year we had enough snow to last me a couple of years; but, this year we have so little it isn't worth mentioning. Since the old-timers in our valley tell us the colder winters are more typical up here, last year was a throwback it would seem.

I am not forgetting, however, that we still have February and March to go, and last year that is when we had the majority of our snow. I am not going to pack the snow boots away just yet. 

Celebrations and Nostalgia

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This post has nothing to do with photography—it is strictly personal and reaches into my recent past. But, since this is on my mind and I am in blabbermouth mode, I am not going to sit on it any longer.

On occasion, I have mentioned, here, that I taught film acting and ran an actors' studio in Los Angeles for three decades. Having been retired less than four years, I haven't yet fully completed my long period of mourning for what I gave up. I may have left the life behind, but it will always be a major part of who am I am and it will always occupy a large and special part of my heart.

So here is the story. You have probably heard of the new DreamWorks film, The Help, based, of course, on the runaway hit novel by the same name. Well, it happens that the screenplay writer and director of that film is one of my students and the actress, Octavia Spencer, who plays Minny, also studied with me. No doubt, you will hear a great deal more about these two in the months and years to come and every time they make the news, you can bet that I will be bursting with happiness for two exceptionally talented, hard-working people—two people I adore.

I loved teaching with a passion that was difficult to put aside. Life changes—even the good ones—can be painful. Every time that phone rings and it is an actor asking about coaching, I feel a little ache in my heart. I begin wondering, again, if leaving was a mistake and I have a day or two of wistful thinking about the joys of watching talent blossom.

But, that was another life in another place. Now, I am that retired teacher who basks in the pleasure of memories and celebrates the triumphs of my precious students from a distance. It was a gift to have witnessed the journey of so many talented individuals. They taught me so very much and I will always be grateful. People often ask me if I have any children. I frequently quip, "No, but I sure borrowed a bunch."

Home Again

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The Husband is home, safe and sound. I am smiling again. He sends his best to all who wished a speedy recovery. I assume chicken soup is appropriate for any period of recuperation. Right?

Up the Road to Jawbone Canyon

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Monday afternoon, we made a quick scouting trip to Jawbone and Red Rock Canyons. There wasn't any time for photography other than a few grab shots in the "drive-by" mode. But, my mouth is watering now that I have seen these two spots.

The verdigris colored rock in the photo here is known as Blue Point. It is located at the mouth of Alphie Canyon off Jawbone Canyon, and at the end of Alphie you would find the San Antonio mine. The color is produced by the oxidized copper in the rock. Kern County was mining country starting in the mid-nineteenth century and some of them continued producing until the 1940's. We see remnants of abandoned gold, silver, quartz, and copper mines off most of the old roads in our area. It's scouting trips such as this that make me regret not being thirty years younger, male, big, and strong. There is some fine exploring to be done up here.

We made the excursion because The Husband is looking for a place to ride outside Bear Valley Springs. Our slippery trails have him eager to escape. There is so little sand in the soil here that the water doesn't drain well and, with more rain and snow coming this weekend, it looks as though we won't dry out for months.

Jawbone and Red Rock seem to fit The Husband's needs fairly well. Plenty of sand. Of course, the downside is rocks. Because both our horses go barefoot (like most of the horses up here), he will need boots to handle the rocks; but, their first ride there on Wednesday went well. Jawbone is less than an hour away and is BLM land—no parking fees and miles of riding available. Some trails would not be advisable, since Jawbone is a favorite place for off-road enthusiasts. Being on the back of a horse going up a trail and meeting one of those vehicles coming down wouldn't make for a pretty picture.

I am working at talking The Husband into an overnight stay in Jawbone. The colors and formations of the rock are sure to produce some wonderful viewing in golden light. This is a trip we would want to make before May, because it does not sound like fun to be there on a blazing hot day. So far, he is lukewarm about the idea, but I am patient.

Dark Clouds and Silver Linings

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After yesterday morning's gloomy, maudlin piece, something a tad more upbeat seemed to be in order. A few hours after that post, I dusted off the G7 to fiddle with it a bit and this view was too tempting to pass up. Yes, I know that the photo isn't exactly cheery; but, we had already seen sunshine for several hours by the time the clouds showed up. While that much sunshine may not sound like big news, this is not something we have taken for granted the last several weeks. It has been a wet fall and winter, so far. Sunshine is rare enough to be deeply appreciated. By later afternoon, these clouds formed in the west. Promise of another night of rain, perhaps.

Sometime back, Monte Stevens admitted that he is not real big on winter temperatures. Monte, we are cut from the same cloth. Some days I wonder what on God's green earth I am doing living in the mountains, for crying out loud. We have months on end of cold and wet weather that is fit for neither man nor beast.

Of course, the primary explanation for why I live here is that I have a husband. Yes, in marriage compromise is essential—but almost never ideal. The Husband, you see, was born and raised in the frozen northeast. Poor thing doesn't know any better. I, on the other hand, was raised in God's country—central Texas. (Unfortunately, I have to admit that summers there are nothing to write home about. Ahh, nothing is quite perfect. Not even Texas.)

Wet and cold as it may be this year, when the weather begins to get me down, I remember the positive elements of living here and almost always decide that the trade-offs are worthwhile. There are plenty of reasons to love living here and, even in winter, we frequently have some gorgeous days. Just not enough to suit thin-blooded me. I am encouraged by the fact that we are in agreement about putting the old RV to good use, next winter. Even The Husband has had it with gray skies and rain. While I probably won't be up to it this year, I should be travel-ready by 2011 and rarin' to go. Perhaps, we'll spend some time in Arizona and get a break from old man winter. Looking forward to that—even a year away, makes dealing with this mostly gloom a little less onerous.

A Weekend Blowout

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Our trip last weekend took us down into the desert and south straight into the soaring temperatures and the last gasp of summer 2009. Don’t get me wrong. There will be more hot days, but southern California isn’t likely to have another extended spell of three digit temps until next summer. Why did we take the old RV south and into the desert during a heat wave when we could have stayed in Bear Valley Springs where it was 10 to 15 degrees cooler? We were traveling to a birthday party of a dear friend, then further south to a family wedding.

The early portion of the trip was blistering hot and, just north of Riverside (a little over half way to our first destination), we heard a frighteningly loud kerthump and felt something hit the underside of the vehicle. We both had had our eyes on the road and felt confident that we hadn’t run over anything. The vehicle was driving as though nothing had happened; but, The Husband realized it had to have been a blowout and exited the freeway. Sure enough, the tread was stripped from a rear tire. Interestingly, it hadn’t lost any air. Blowouts are common on southern California highways in the summer. With the temperature at 110 degrees, the asphalt is a virtual frying pan and not exactly what the doctor ordered for rubber.

Blowouts are never fun, but at least we weren’t in the middle of the Mojave. After one false lead took us to a Goodyear tire store that didn’t have the correct model tire, we found the right store and headed for the waiting room to relax while the Goodyear guys did their thing. We knew we were in trouble when we spotted large fans aimed at the guys behind the counter. It had to have been at least 85 degrees in there, but it sure as heck beat waiting beside the road for the insurance company’s version of AAA service to arrive. (Been there, done that).

Why didn’t we simply stop on the shoulder and replace the tire with the spare. First answer would be the heat coming off the pavement at 20 or 30 degrees higher than the 100 plus degrees we were getting on the indoor/outdoor thermometer. Second, the spare was at least as old as the tire that blew and The Husband wisely chose not to risk two blowouts in one trip. We just counted our blessings since we didn’t get hurt with the tire holding up as it did and it had only taken us about 30 minutes to finally get to the Goodyear store. The only bad news was that by the time we were back on the road it was very late and we finally rolled in at the party just at the tail end of the celebration. We even missed singing “Happy Birthday” to the birthday girl.

The next leg of the trip was uneventful, the wedding was lovely, and it was wonderful seeing The Husband’s family. Since all the siblings are scattered across the continent, reunions are special and infrequent occasions. Having come perilously close to one of my heatstroke numbers, I was pretty blitzed and I hardly picked up a camera during the first two days. Then the heat wave broke on Monday and the trip back was easy. A drive that took nine and a half hours on the way down took five hours for the return. I was treated to the beautiful clouds you see in the photo here and it was cool enough to enjoy them. By the time, I took this picture we were only about forty-five minutes from Home Sweet Home and I was ready to put the weekend behind me.

Challenges and Rewards

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Each time I complete one self-assignment, I come up with another one for myself. Not surprisingly, a number of these assignments are connected to the next show coming up June 5. It fascinates me that as soon as I wrap up one job, the act of completion seems to create a space that is then filled by two or three new projects. It’s as if the projects bear fruit, or a little like those wire coat hangers that would multiply in the closet. (By the way, have you noticed that the plastic ones are sterile? They break. Sometimes, they disappear to who-knows-where. But, they don’t multiply. Hmm. Another of those scientific mysteries.)

At any rate, I decided to reflect on tests and ventures that I can wrap my head around and leave coat hanger mysteries to someone with more expertise in the area of closet life. What I know is that every challenge taxes my physical strength and my capacity for facing the unknown. Inevitably, challenges present me with moments when I wonder if it is worth continuing through the stress. Quitting, or not even accepting the challenge in the first place, can be such a tempting alternative. Still, if I see it through to the end—whatever it is, there are always rewards. Even if no one else recognizes the benefits of my having completed the course, the satisfaction of following through is a reward in itself and there is no way to know where that experience will take me.

SoFoBoMo 2008 was such a test for me. The fact that I actually completed a project, then had the courage to post it online (rather than hiding it away and believing that I couldn’t find a way to get it online), was a triumph over doubts. And, that victory over myself has, in turn, led to more risk-taking with my photography.

Over and over in life, the lesson is there to be learned. One step (no matter how small) leads to the next, and that one to the next, and so on until, before long, we look back and see that we have traveled some distance, and that the journey has been filled with discoveries.

Having confronted my doubts in tackling SoFoBoMo last year opened up all sorts of doors for me. Since completing that project, I find that I listen to even more impulses to try new things. The doubts still nag, but their voices have been muted by the little successes along the way—and even by the failures. After all, once you fail, get up brush yourself off and discover that there are no permanent bruises, the next risk isn’t so daunting.

There is no doubt that I will complete my SoFoBoMo 2009 project—somehow, some way. No matter how woefully behind I am this year, I will get it done. After all, I wouldn’t want to miss any steps in my journey.

P.S. That mountain just peeking above the clouds is our Bear Mountain and on the other side of the mountain is home. A trip to Bakersfield last Tuesday gave us an opportunity to enjoy this view.

On to the Next Event

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The work from fifty-seven Bear Valley Springs artists will remain up at the Art Show through Easter. During the lull before picking up my work next Monday, I had planned to post pictures of what I showed and make a report on my education from that experience. (Much of that education centers around the prices here. After coming from a market like Los Angeles and some pieces that were sold by a contact in the Palm Springs area, I have a great deal to learn about Tehachapi and Bear Valley Springs. Perhaps the most important lesson that I have learned is that I must cut my costs considerably. Thus, I began almost immediately after the reception last Saturday to shop like a mad woman for frames.) A still bigger shift came when I got news that sent me scrambling and elevated my education to critical status.

A lovely lady, who coincidentally moved to BVS last year, had asked several weeks ago to display some of my work at her new store in Tehachapi. Now, she has been accepted as a participant in the First Friday Art Walk—the event that I mentioned in my last post way back last Friday. Has it really been that long? This week, I learned that I will be the featured artist at Lori’s gallery May 1. Of course, I am scurrying around shopping, digging through unpacked boxes for stored mattes, printing test prints, struggling with profit/loss sheets (ah, math my favorite pastime), and just generally having a hectic, but exhilarating time.

I will try to keep up, but anyone who has read my blog for any time knows that I am rather lousy at juggling a long list of projects—which makes one wonder why I inevitably insist on piling up tasks much like a chronic overeater at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I just can’t resist piling one more goodie on that virtual plate.

So, wish me luck. I hope to supply Lori, my friend and new partner in crime, with plenty of pieces priced to suit our new market.

Magnetic Fields

By now, anyone reading this blog knows full well that I am a long way from being a scientist or engineer. Physics isn’t something that I think about a great deal (it would hurt my brain too much), much less write about . Nevertheless, in between design and editing sessions, I have been thinking seriously about the question of magnetic fields as related to deadlines.

Since I can’t find any scientific evidence supporting my theories, I will just have to go with my personal experience. One deadline will attract another. Two or three deadlines will draw a horde more and before you know it all the little devils are piled up, one on top of another—clinging together in a bunch—like a cluster of grapes. Now to my mind that sounds an awful lot like some sort of magnetic properties are at work here. Don’t you agree that some meaningful scientific principle causes deadlines to huddle up like that? Either deadlines can send out messages (you know, like teenagers announcing a party on My Space); they travel in herds because they feel safer (from what predator, I have no earthly idea); or, they are irresistibly drawn together by the their magnetic properties.

At any rate, whatever the cause of this clustering phenomenon, I know this: on top of meeting all those deadlines—you are soon struggling to sort out which deadline date goes with which project, because all the dates are so similar. It’s no wonder that I am looking for answers.

While contemplating this deep scientific (and philosophical) question I began to consider other applications of magnetism and laws of attraction. That led me to even deeper thoughts such as: Why am I attracted to more projects than I can juggle? Why do I attach myself to standards for excellence that no one else is demanding of me? Why can’t I resist chocolate? What?! Wait. How did that one slip in there? Now, that is another topic to explore—not only chocolate, but how that thought just intruded on this scholarly examination.

By now, you can see how I have been distracted this past week. It’s not that I wasn’t thinking about blogging and other photobloggers. But, profound questions of this sort require a great percentage of one’s attention. I did squeeze in a few photo sessions—just to help me think more clearly—and as soon as I have stomped the grapes; no, eaten the chocolate (there it is again); no, no, finished with the cluster of deadlines, I will post some more of the photos that I have been taking.

Drained

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I have completed my second special project in two months and feeling totally drained. Yesterday, I received notice that the order has been shipped. Now, by the first of June, I will know how the venture turned out. Besides being absorbed in that job, I have been hiding out lately—feeling overwhelmed by circumstances. If I am going to post anything for the next few days, it will have to be just some images without words.