Monthly Archives: February 2010

I’d Love to Know

I knew this guy in college. He wasn’t attractive by traditional standards. He was short, a little out of shape, kind of funny looking, actually. But he always had a woman on his arm (or in his bed). These women were all spectacular in one way or another. Smart, creative beautiful women. And they flocked to this strange creature.

I had seen it before, this phenomenon of unlikely men or women drawing throngs of admirers to their sides. And it’s not limited to college campuses. It happens all the time.

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of watching a duet of teenagers perform at a small coffee house. One sang, the other backed her up on guitar, harmonica and vocals. These kids were talented. Really talented. Watching them, I was moved. But it wasn’t the music. What struck me was their passion.

And there it was. The answer to the question that I had asked a thousand times.

Passion.

It’s a primal force. Some people have it and some are drawn to it. Some strive to achieve it and others run screaming when they feel it coming.

That guy, the one from college, he had it. He was passionate about everything he did. It doesn’t even matter what he did. Just the fact that it oozed from his being drew people to him. These young performers had it. My son has it when he sings or plays guitar or keyboards.

Mick Jagger has it. (Really, what else could women find attractive about him? Even his money couldn’t overcome that face.)

I like to think I have passion but I’m not sure how it looks to others. I feel passion for sure.

My children. Light and color. Writing, designing, making. Being.

And I’m drawn to passion. I get a thrill out of watching people do what they love. What makes them happy. To me it’s contagious and infectious and I always come away inspired.

Does passion appeal to you or does it scare you? Are you living your passion or hiding it away?

What gets your blood pumping?

hi

so many things on my mind. composing essays in the shower (the only quiet place these days) but no follow-through.

i’ve been here before. time comes around in stages.

without the writing or sewing or time to otherwise be creative i feel at a loss. something is missing.

it’s the paradox of motherhood really. finding a way to be whole while putting the needs of others before my own.

i do have my camera though. and i’m thankful for what it helps me do.

i find myself looking more closely at everything around me and composing shots in the most mundane of places.

little bits of beauty mixed into a day in the life.

i’ll be back when i can.

Untitled

I’ve been quiet here because things are noisy at home.

Two boys. ‘Tween and toddler. No school. Cold weather. I was overwhelmed at the thought of it before it began so I enlisted some help. A few hours of babysitting. An extra set of hands. A luxury to be sure. But one we allowed ourselves this week. I believe it’s good for my kids. To be able to say goodbye to me for an hour. To learn that I’ll come back. To feel secure without me for a short time. (Or at least that’s what I tell myself.) And that it’s good for me, goes without saying.

And it’s not like we haven’t made the most of our time together—

A day spent in New York City. (It never stops being strange to be a visitor in my hometown.)

west 81st street

An unexpected snowfall.

Old friends are new again.

Breakfast in bed at the hands of my eldest.

Hours spent camping out in the living room.

48::365

Just your average commonplace February week.