Sample from the BC Scrapbook

Though I’m home from summer adventure, I’m still reflecting back on our family’s recent travels. Our time in British Columbia was especially dear to me, as I was returning to that land after 17 years.

I was 23 years old when I sailed away from one of BC’s remote islands in the Georgia Strait. A piece of my heart was left imbedded in the forest there. Tucked in the loam, surrounded by Arbutus, lapped by the calm sea that sheltered purple starfish and white swans. While my subsequent years may have been graced in paradise, BC has always gently tugged my tethered heart.

Returning was a dream-come-true. Being accompanied by my husband and ten-year old son was meaningful, as they both are my life’s dreams, made real.

It was a reflection on time. What changes, and what stays the same.

I discovered that there still exists hotels with real room keys.
Beach finds can include a magnifying glass, just in case you weren’t looking closely enough.
And feathers abound on small islands, floating freely, without name, until you try to label them.

Here’s a sample from the BC Scrapbook.

2014-08-26_hotel_key

2014-08-26_magnifying_shells

2014-08-26_BC_island_feather

At the Potter’s Wheel

I’ve been thinking about the potter’s wheel. How so much depends on the careful balance of speed and applied pressure.

Too slow on the foot pedal, you’ve got wobble. Too fast, you’re out of control.

We each exist on this wheel of sorts. Spinning through space on an earthen sphere, we subsist in the mysterious still point of perfected gravity. At this very moment, we are whirling about at such speed, moving through our days, molding and shaping our lives.

These events, the infinite details, they unfold as soon-to-be memories. Seven billion lives evolving, each a potter’s respiring creation.

We are crafters, mastering a work in progress. We play with the elements, adding liquid to solid in measured doses. We test velocity, adjusting the speed of our wheel.

We are seated at the messy helm. Hands in deep, slippery, and full of gooey matter. This is the real. This is the good. This is the stuff. Beautiful and wild. Full of a nothing that can spin into something. Anything.

What are you creating?

photo courtesy of Melissa Bridgman
photo courtesy of Melissa Bridgman

Alight On

With my recent opening of a shop on Etsy, I’ve been feeling just a bit out of my element. It’s been an inspiring process of sharing my photography note cards with more people, but I’m definitely in new territory.

Etsy’s world features a kaleidoscope of work from some incredible artisans and master collectors. For shoppers, it’s a treasure trove of handcrafted items and vintage finds. As a shopkeeper, I’m diving into the Etsy storefront sea, full of Tips and Guides, Favorites and Follows.

Me and my little handmade note cards, we just got in the big kid’s pool and I’m learning how to tread in deeper waters.

So I’ll take it as a sign from the Powers That Be, when on yesterday’s beach walk, I found a supersonic diving light. Yes, right there at my feet, resting in the sand, was a huge specimen of a light source: the “UK Sunlight D8.” This is no ordinary flashlight.

Fashioned more like a gun that takes aim, the whole apparatus weighs about five pounds and even provides a handy wristband for safekeeping (though apparently it did not prevent its previous owner from losing it). The light still works, though I wonder if I could ever afford the cost of the replacement batteries that power this behemoth.

This is a diver’s light. Something used underwater at great depths, in order to shine the way for a human that is daring to explore foreign territory, in elements not of their own.

Yes, a light has been cast upon my path.

Twin lamp technology
waterproof to 500 feet
high intensity xenon
shockproof

When this massive mystery light peeked out at me from the bushes at my feet, I looked all around but did not see a soul in sight. So I took the illuminating tool. Carried it all the way home, trying to maximize its resource by doing bicep curls along the way, until my arms just got too tired.

I’m sure the Bohemian and Jeb will have hours of entertainment just shining it around in the yard at night.

Me, I’ll probably use it most for metaphor. The flashlight description stamped on the side (shared above) makes for a decent poem in itself, I think.

I’m grateful for a little luminosity as I move about in the unfamiliar waters of virtual storefronts and online sales. A spotlight helps to hone my focus. And in light of that, I’ll state it here in case I lose sight.

I love to find beauty in an ordinary moment. It’s even more special when I can share it. If someone else feels inspired by that sharing, well then, the circle is complete. The appreciation grows. The love spreads. This makes me feel very happy.

I’ve been gifting friends and family my photography note cards for about a year now. Images that were once featured here on the Archives are now placed upon note cards, blank and waiting to hold the words of those choosing to mail a good old-fashioned letter. The inspiration of art passes through more hands. The sharing continues.

That is my beam of light. That is what I am illuminating. Sharing with you, you sharing with others. Pass it on…

Now that, lights me up.

photo courtesy of Amanda
photo courtesy of Amanda