this was a good week

Here's what made this week awesome:

•  I spent some time photographing Houston and the intimate-yet-highly-funky venue of my upcoming workshop.  Things are slowly coming together, friends, ever slowly!

•  "I had begun to enjoy the seduction of inadequacy ... Beauty wasn't something I could acquire or consume.  Beauty was just something I had to be."  Preach, Lupita.  Trust me, this 5-minute talk given by Academy Award winner Lupita Nyong'o at the Essence awards is worth your time:  it is the very soul of the Beauty of Different.

•  This week I got to see my friend Kim Coles perform in her one-woman show, Oh But Wait, There's More!!  People.  Kim is fabulous (you can see a few clips from her show here).  If you find out she's coming to your town, please do yourself a favour and get tickets.  The show is all about her journey to discovering her own beautiful different, and it's a helluva ride.  (Heads up, Raleigh-Durham, I know she's headed your way soon -- and if you want to find out when she's coming to your town, click on her Facebook page and sign up for her email list.)

•  The talented Christina Rosalie turned me on to this list of writing prompts.  Beautiful. I suspect I'll be using this in the coming weeks...

•  Dude.  Corals are animals.  I had no idea.

•  This photo.  Tell the truth -- you watched it go down and it made you smile, too.

•  I'm loving this style & lifestyle blog, run by two sisters, right here in H-town.  Beautiful images, sweet stories:  it is, indeed, mucho mucho bueno bueno.

•  My friend Lola, a travel writer and photographer, accidentally tried to get over on a hapless Peruvian woman.  (Seriously, it was an accident.)  Lola didn't succeed; however, writing about the experience earned her the bronze award in the “Travel and Shopping” category of the 8th Annual Solas Awards for Travel Writing by Travelers Tales!

•  And as long as we're traveling, time to go back home: this week was Carnival in Trinidad & Tobago.  I haven't "played 'mas" since 2006, and I miss it "bad too bad," as we say at home; however, the guys over at Uncommon Caribbean beautifully captured what it feels like to be there in all that revelry.  Check it out. (And check out these amazing photos of how it all went down here.)

And finally for the song of the day, one of this year's songs for Carnival, First Time, by one of Trinidad's most famous soca artists, Destra.  (Aside:  note that the song is about what it feels like the first time you dance and participate in Carnival revelry, and nothing more salacious;  that said, as with most Carnival music, while the lyrics are safe for work, the double-meaning is almost certainly intended).

(Aside #2:  before you click on the link, understand that the proper way to listen to this is to turn up your volume way up, and just let the music take you.  So if you're not in a place where that can happen, I'd save it for later.  If you are in a place where you can turn up the volume, and you also happen to have a glass of rum nearby, well ... let's just say that I'm not responsible for your subsequent behaviour.  Fair warning.)

Enjoy.

On that (somewhat homesick) note, have a wonderful weekend, friends.  See you Monday.

random thoughts: on passing time

A couple of weeks ago, I was having dinner with a friend of mine who had recently celebrated her 29th birthday.  She wasn't very happy about it:  it seemed her 30th birthday felt like a deadline, a looming reminder of everything she had yet to accomplish -- and she felt, I suppose, like time was running out.

I'm in my mid-forties, and I have to admit that I was a bit stunned that she was so keenly feeling the passage of time.  Good Lord, I remember thinking to myself.  At 30, I was only just beginning to feel like a grownup.  And in truth, my 30s were awesome.   It was a decade of all sorts of adventure:  international travel, international residence, relationships (marriage, motherhood), huge career shifts.  I feel like I did most of my growing up in my 30s.  "Oh, honey," I said to my friend, "the truth is you've only just begun.  You've finally approached adulthood -- and you've got so many more adulthoods ahead of you."

I admit that I felt a bit wistful as I said it:  after all, in my current state of mind, "mid-40s" means "middle aged."  And they don't call it "middle aged" because you're young and dewy anymore, a nagging voice in the back of my mind insisted.  She's young, but time is running out for you.

---

On a recent flight, I tucked into a new book, Dancing Fish and Ammonites, by Penelope Lively.  It's a memoir, written by the author at 80-years-old, and includes her considered thoughts on aging.  I'm about 3/4 of the way through (and it has been delicious all the way), but this particular passage, written at near the beginning of the book, turned me inside out:

Years ago, I heard Anthony Burgess speak at the Edinburgh Book Festival.  He was impressive in that he spoke for an hour without a single note, fluent and coherent.  But of the content of his talk, all I remember are his opening words:  'For me, death is already sounding its high C.'  This was around 1980, I think, so he was in his early sixties at the time, and died in 1993.  I was in my late forties, and he seemed to me -- not old, exactly, but getting on a bit.  Today, people in their sixties seem -- not young, just nicely mature.  Old age is in the eye of the beholder.  I am eighty, so I am old, no question.

And then later in the book, as she talks about her life in the 1990s, she says this:

We are into the 1990s here,  and I have hit sixty.  I don't remember feeling especially bothered about this -- full of energy still, writing, living.  The view from eighty says:  huh! a mere slip of a girl -- just you wait.

 I love that her view from 80 considers 60 to be "a mere slip of a girl."  I love that she considers 60 to be simply "nicely mature."

Age, it appears, ain't nothin' but perspective. 

And now, after reading this book, it seems I've only just begun, too.

Song:  Fly like an eagle, as performed by Seal

#lookforthelight: february 2014

I know, I know -- I'm so sorry I'm late for the February #lookforthelight!  But it was a short month, Alex's birthday, and ...

Anyway.

Here's the good news, though:  you guys so came through.  I mean, let's face it, weather-wise, February packed a punch this year, didn't it?  And yet, despite the grey, the slush, the thundersleet, for heaven's sake, you guys came through.

Here are some of my very favourites.  Please be sure to click on the names of the photographers -- there's even more good stuff in each of their streams.

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Left:  @mamaherenow
Right:  @crystalmoody
 

Left:  @amandacthall
Right:  @staceyechin
 

Left:  @retro_blonde
Right:  @schmutziemorgan
 

Left:  @annettek14
Right:  @ppestana1
 

Left:  @here_we_be
Right:  @xantheb
 

You guys are so great -- thanks so much for sharing your beautiful work.  See you in March.

Song:  The moon song by Karen O

---

Thanks again to all of you who participated this month in #lookforthelight -- keep 'em coming!  If you'd like to participate and you have an Instagram account (it's free), simply grab shots of the light in your life with your mobile device, and add the hashtag "#lookforthelight" to your shot, either in the caption or in the comments.  I'll feature my 10 favourite shots again at the end of March here on Chookooloonks, giving lots of link love, naturally.  And of course, click here to see all the submissions (and feel free to follow along my own progress at heychookooloonks on Instagram!).

of ice cream and family outings (and getting #slabhappy)

When I was 14-15 years old, for reasons that had to do with my education and the location of my father's employment, I lived with my maternal grandparents, Henry & Carmen Alexis.  They lived in a hilly suburb of Port-of-Spain, the capital of Trinidad & Tobago, in a rambling 1-storey house.

Henry & Carmen Alexis, my maternal grandparents, on their wedding day.

Every week for two years, I would be driven to my grandparents' home two hours away from where my parents and sister lived on late Sunday evenings, and then right after school on Fridays, I'd be driven back the two-hour drive to our family home in the small fishing village of Mayaro.  Because I spent such a large part of my weeks with my grandparents,   I became incredibly close to them -- so close, that when it came to naming our daughter, I wouldn't even entertain the thought of naming her anything other than their surname.

Occasionally, of course, I wouldn't return to Mayaro, and instead, my family would come up to spend the weekend with my grandparents.  And on those weekend, my grandparents would delight in taking my sister and me, along with our baby cousin, Jason, on a special outing for ice cream.

I remember in my jaded teenage years being somewhat amused by the whole thing:  "We're going out for ice cream!" Grandpa would announce grandly, like we were going to the opera, or something that I deemed far more fancy than ice cream.  "And we will be leaving on Saturday afternoon at 2 o'clock sharp, so please be ready."  Then at the appointed time, we'd climb into my grandfather's ancient sedan -- a 20-something-year-old beast that rattled with every pothole, and had windows that you had to manually wind up or down with a crank, for heaven's sake -- and off we'd putter to a local ice cream café.  The café was really nothing to speak of, and had only a few flavours:  vanilla, chocolate or strawberry (I always chose chocolate), rum-raisin and, of course, coconut.  The ice cream was delicious -- this was the time before synthetic additives, after all, and save for the strawberries, the ice cream and ingredients were all local and handmade.  So the truth is that even though I might have been a bit snobbish each time we headed out, by the time I'd taken that final bite of ice cream, I was really happy that Grandpa took the time to do this for us.

---

Several weeks ago, I was approached by Marble Slab Creamery to experience their ice creams, specifically because they now offer "unlimited mix-ins" -- as many of their offered ingredients mixed into your chosen flavour of ice cream as you'd like.  Since I'm a fan of their ice cream (they include Trinidad as one of their international locations), they source their dairy from local farms and mix the ice cream in their actual stores -- plus, let's be real, my family just loves ice cream in general -- I happily agreed.  

And so, on the first fine day of the year in Houston a couple of weeks ago, Marcus, Alex and I headed out to our local store.

Because Alex never met a sweet she didn't like, when she heard that she could have anything she wanted mixed into her ice cream for no additional cost, she went to town:  she chose birthday cake ice cream, with the added mix-ins of gummy bears, chocolate chips, and cookie dough.

Girlfriend does not play when it comes to her ice cream. 

Alex's mix-ins being added to her ice cream on the chilled marble slab (hence the name).  For the record, if the lovely woman who took care of us was horrified by Alex's choice of mix-ins, she was a total professional and didn't let on one bit.

Marcus was a bit more reasonable:  he chose cheesecake- and rum-flavoured ice creams, with coconut and chocolate chip mix-ins.

I'd like to think his choice reflects my Caribbean influence on the man.  

As for me, I remain a purist:  simply sweet cream ice cream with Oreos added in.  Because Oreos, as you know, are milk's favourite cookie.

The ice cream was delicious, of course.  But I also had the added bonus of suddenly remembering all those little outings of going out for ice cream with my grandparents, sister and cousin.  And as Marcus, Alex and I sat there on the Marble Slab Creamery patio, eating our ice cream that beautiful day, I couldn't help think, really, why don't we do this more often?  It seems to me that in this day and age, of Pinterest-perfect birthday parties and beautifully-decorated holidays, we've -- okay, I've --  forgotten about little things like just climbing into the car with the family and going out for ice cream, for no other reason that making the ice cream outing the event itself.  

And I suddenly realized that this was a little tradition I really wanted to begin again for Alex, especially in the incredibly hot, humid summers that Houston is known for and will surely arrive soon.   Because really, why not?

Anyway, because Marble Slab Creamery is so awesome, as part of this experience they're also allowing me to give away a USD $25 gift card -- which seems particularly appropriate, what with this being Alex's birthday week, the fact that she chose birthday-cake-flavoured ice cream, and so on.  So leave a comment with your favourite ice cream flavour, and I'll pick one commenter at random to win the gift card for you to start your own ice cream memories.  

I'll announce the winner by updating this post tomorrow, March 5th.  One comment per person, please, and as always, good luck, friends.

update, wednesday, march 5:

According to Random.org, the winner of the gift certificate is Sarah, who said: "Any kind of chocolate :) The best ice cream I've ever had was on a family ice cream outing....what a great tradition to start!"  Congrats, Sarah! Please keep a lookout in your inbox for an email from me, requesting your snail mail deets.

And thanks to all of you who commented -- looks like I have a ton more flavours to try. :) 

Song:  Ice cream by Sarah McLachlan

---

Thanks much to Marble Slab Creamery for sponsoring this post, as part of their Direct your Delicious™ Unlimited Mix-Ins campaign.  Marble Slab Creamery has a variety of gourmet flavours and mix-in possibilities, and produces their ice cream made with real dairy from local farms, making as many of their products as possible from scratch, including their cones.  And Marcus, Alex and I can attest that it's all really, really good.

ten

Alex is 10 years old today.  Which, you know, is insane.  

The urge to share photographs I've taken every year on her birthday is strong, but I did that a couple of years ago, when she turned 8 -- so  I won't put you through that again.  However, since I don't really share parenting stories here anymore, Alex only appears in the blog every once in a while, and finally reaching "double-digits" is a pretty important time in a kid's life, I figured I needed to do something a bit special.  So this year, I decided to interview her so you can sort of get to know her first hand; also, since there are a few of you who have been reading Chookooloonks since the very beginning when she was born, I figured it might be interesting for you to see how she's grown up during this time.  

I decided to start with the Proust Questionnaire (editing it for questions that she might not yet be old enough to give it considerable thought), and then turned to Twitter to invite people to submit questions that they would like me to ask her.  The following are her answers:

What is your idea of a perfect day?

Watching TV with my mom by a fireplace.

What country would you most like to visit?

Spain -- it seems cool, because of their culture, and I've heard that they have elaborate celebrations. (I'm not sure which ones she's talking about, but I suspect La Tomatina would be right up her alley.   -- Ed.)

When and where were you happiest?

At home with my mom today.  (I swear I didn't tell her to say that.  -- Ed.)

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Sewing a skirt and getting my black belt.

What is your most treasured possession?

Baby Lion.

What do you most value in your friends?

Kindness.

Who are your favourite writers?

Megan Frazer Blakemore (author of Water Castle) and Eve Yohalem (author of Escape Under the Forever Sky).

Who is your favourite fictional heroine, and why?

I think Akeelah from the movie Akeelah and the Bee.  She's smart, funny and nice.

Who are your heroes in real life?

My mom, dad and my dog, Rufus.  (Someone give this kid some chocolate.  -- Ed.)

What is your motto?

Sharing is caring.

How'd you get to be so awesome?

My family and friends treat me so awesomely!

Where do you think you'll be 10 years from now?

I think I'll be in Paris, fashion designing in my little house made of bricks, looking out at Notre Dame!

Song:  Let it go, as performed by Idina Menzel.  Today's song naturally chosen by Alex.  Happy birthday, sweet girl.

this was a good week

We're back at it, friends!  Here are the things that made this week a great week:

•  Shooting, writing, preparing for my upcoming workshop.  I love being this energized.  Love it.  Once it goes live, you're all invited.

•  The sci-fi geek in me is completely tickled by these illustrations, reimagining Star Wars as a John-Hughes-esque high school drama.  (Leia's headphones slay me dead.)

•  Spending time with the ONE Campaign in Washington DC earlier this week.  In addition to reconnecting with some great friends, we also heard amazing stories about the successes being realized in fighting extreme poverty (for example, did you know that extreme poverty has decreased by 44% in Ghana between 1992 and 2006, and by 49% in Ethiopia between 1995 and 2011?  Such awesome news.)

•  Speaking of the ONE Campaign, they recently shared these beautiful portraits by Mario Gerth on their blog.  I need to step up my portrait photography game, man.

•  This photograph of my friend Joshua (aka "Gilligan") made me indescribably happy (and a little homesick for the Caribbean).

•  An artist recreates six famous cultural icons (Rodin's The Thinker, Forrest Gump, Mad Men, Michaelangelo's The Creation of Adam, Reservoir Dogs & Daft Punk), all in one take, for the Sunday Times.  I love smooth and clever.

•  Everything about this photograph of a groom's reaction as his bride walks down the aisle.  Fantastic. 

•  Alex is having a slumber party tonight.  I love how excited she is about it.

•  And finally, the song of the day:  anchorman Brian Williams "rapping" Rapper's Delight.  I can't stop watching it.

Have a great weekend, friends.  See you Monday.

i might be a loropetalum

This winter has been unseasonably cold for Houston, including a couple of days when the plants in our garden were covered in ice.  This made me nervous.  I am not a gardener (by any stretch of the imagination), but a few years ago, when we were in the throes of a drought and neighbourhood water rationing, many of the lush foliage in our back yard died a brown, crispy death.  This naturally led my completely-untrained-gardening-mind to believe that "unusual weather patterns" necessarily equals "spectacular plant death" and, as such, recently I have been peering outside in the certainty that I would see our remaining foliage rolling over in their beds (pun!), their little leafless limbs up in the air in frigid death.

So you might imagine my surprise when yesterday, I looked outside and saw the bushes had exploded in vibrant pink, almost in defiance to the cold snap that had suddenly sauntered into Houston in the afternoon.  It was like the plants muttered to themselves, "To hell with it: I don't care that conditions aren't favourable, or that there may be challenges.  I'm going for it anyway."  

It was a sign.

---

For the past year, I've been toying with the idea of offering in-person workshops and retreats -- even going so far as checking out possible venues in various cities.  But try as I might, I couldn't go through with it.  I kept hesitating, unsure about what I was doing.

But over the past week, I've had a few conversations, not the least of which was with the inimitable Andrea Scher.  After brainstorming with her for a few hours, I realized that I'm totally ready to do this.  It's go time.

I'm not ready to reveal everything quite yet, but suffice to say that I'm moving full steam ahead.  Give me about 6 weeks, and I'll share all the details with you. 

It's going to be a great year.

subway connection

When I checked into my hotel room in Washington DC Sunday evening (along with my roommate for this trip, Kelly Wickham, a woman with whom it should be illegal to have that much fun), I did what I always do:  I walked to the window to check out the view.  I didn't see much -- it was already after dark -- but I thought I could make out some train tracks in the dim light.*

Our day began on Monday bright and early (we were there to attend the ONE Power Summit, and never was a conference more aptly named), and so we set our alarm to go off before the sun came up.  As I was blearily stumbling around the room getting ready for the day, I heard a rumbling outside.  I looked:  it was the subway.

I've mentioned before I love subways.  Part of the reason is because Houston doesn't have one and I miss the London Tube; although mostly I love them for the brief moments of connection they provide.  Think about it:  for the time between stops, you're in incredibly close proximity with all of these great stories:  each person on a crowded subway car comes with his or her own individual stories: stories of love, or education, or immigration or crime or justice or sadness or elation.  They're faces that display grief or intensity or happiness or anguish or boredom or disgust.  And in those few minutes between stops, when we ride the subway, we're a tiny, minuscule part of each of those stories.

I love subways.

I grabbed my camera (which I packed at the last minute), and took a couple of shots, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the faces as they sped by my hotel room window. 

As I photographed, I was reminded of this beautiful video I'd seen several months ago...

... and then, after a few minutes, I put away my camera and got ready for my day.

By the way, thank you so much for your insanely kind and generous words in the comments of my last post -- I read every comment, and I was so moved.  You are all really such lovely people.

this was a good week (and a great 10 years)

So here's something awesome:

Tomorrow marks 10 years since I first opened a laptop and began writing Chookooloonks.

When I wrote that very first post, sitting up in bed one night banging out my thoughts on my keyboard, I had absolutely no idea how much having a practice of sharing my words and images would change my life.  I actually started Chookooloonks purely as a way to keep our family involved in our adoption journey (the only reason I didn't password-protect the site was because I didn't want to add a level of complexity for those family members who weren't Internet-savvy).  I really never thought that anyone other than immediate family and close friends would ever read it -- the World Wide Web, after all, is a very big place; who would possibly be interested in reading the daily mundane happenings of our little family?

I can't believe how wrong I was.  And you can't believe how so very grateful I am.

As a matter of interest, here's how life over the past 10 years, as recorded on Chookooloonks, breaks down by the numbers:

•  Number of times I became a mom:  1
•  Number of times we moved house:  2
•  Number of jobs I've held:  4
•  Number of pets I've had:  1
•  Number of times I've grown my hair all the way out:  2
•  Number of times I've started growing out my hair and given up in exasperation, cutting it all the way off:  60 quadrillion
•  Number of cameras I've accumulated:  4
•  Number of posts I've written:  1500 (realistic though rough estimate)
•  Number of photographs I've taken:  tens of thousands (give or take 50)
•  Number of photographs I've shared on Chookooloonks:  3000 (another rough estimate)
•  Number of computers I've worn out:  3 (one was admittedly because of an ill-placed glass of apple juice)
•  Number of books I've written:  1
•  Number of talks I've given:  dozens 
•  Number of times a year I've briefly considered returning to practice law:  1-1/2
•  Number of countries I've visited (both with family and on my own): 13
•  Number of people I've met in real life because of blogging:  hundreds (give or take a dozen)
•  Number of people I've met who were already famous when I met them:  7
•  Number of friends I made through blogging who have since become undeniably famous, by any measure:  2
•  Number of friends I've made because of blogging:  countless

To say, therefore, that Chookooloonks changed my life would be the understatement of the ... well ... decade.

And so today, in lieu of doing my regular This Was A Good Week post, I wanted to thank you:  you who have been consistently, unfailingly kind to me.  In the 10 years that I've been blogging at this site, while I've certainly had criticism, I have never once received a mean-spirited comment (well, okay, I did have one, but it was on a post that went viral, and written by someone who clearly had never read Chookooloonks before, and probably hasn't since.  I figure that was just a drive-by trolling, and so it doesn't count).  For those of you who know social media, you know that being able to say that I haven't received any mean comments (save for that drive-by) is uncanny -- and it's a testament to you beautiful people who visit me every day here, sharing your stories, making me laugh, and even supporting each other in the comments.   Thank you for letting me share my thoughts with you over the past 10 years, for receiving them in the spirit they are intended, and for sharing a bit of your own spirit in return.  I am continually grateful.

Thanks for being a part of our daily lives.

Us, ten years on:  at home, February 20, 2014.

---

One more thing:  because I believe every ten year anniversary is cause for a celebration, it's time for ...

the first decennial Chookooloonks anniversary giveaway!

I've been thinking for some time about what I wanted to give away on my site to mark this anniversary, and to be honest, I struggled a bit.  I knew that I wanted it to be reflective of what I stand for and the things I hope Chookooloonks communicates ...  

•  beauty
•  travel
•  introspection
•  creativity
•  connection

... but I couldn't think of one single thing that captures all of those things. 

So I decided to give away a package of a bunch of things instead: items that I use myself in my day-to-day life.

The items you see above aren't exactly what you're going to be getting.  These are mine, and therefore old. Yours will be brand new, and therefore far cooler.

To that end, wherever in the world you are, leave a comment below, and I'll pick one commenter to win all of the following:

•  A Stash Rambler journal.  Stash makes beautiful leather goods (I've written about them here), and their journals are gorgeous.  Cheryl, the owner, and her husband have become friends of ours, and I love supporting her work: besides, nothing like a journal called "Rambler" to inspire some beautiful travel journaling, right?

•  Staedler Triplus colour markers.  Because you're going to need these to add some beauty to your journal.

•  A Fuji Instax 210 Instant Photo camera & two packs of film.  Remember the old-school Polaroid cameras?  This is the updated, 21st century equivalent, and a fun way to add photographs to your journal on the run (without having to wait for a time when you can get near a printer).  I have the mini one of these cameras (shown, white, above; yours will be larger, and black), and my journals have tons of photos I've taken with them.   May this bring you just as much fun.

•  A set of 10 postcards, each with one of my favourite photographs I've taken over the years.  They're 4x6, so you can frame them, or use them to send sweet messages to beautiful people in your life.  

•  A signed copy of The Beauty of Different.  Signed to you, or whomever you'd like.

•  And finally, because you're going to need something to hold all this stuff and my friend Maile is awesome, she's giving away an Epiphanie camera bag of your choice to help celebrate.  This is the best camera bag you (or the lucky woman you give it to, if you so choose) will ever own, bar none.

Great, right?  So again, leave a comment below (one comment per person, please).  I'm actually headed out of town for the next few days, so I'll announce the winner by updating this post on Wednesday, February 26th when I get back. 

And again, thank you, friends.  Your kindness has meant the world to me.

update, monday, february 26:

Wow -- so many lovely comments!  According to Random.org, the winner of all that goodness above is Briel Krystek, who said "Beautiful! Happy 10 years! Here's to 10 more. :)" Congrats,  Briel!  Keep a lookout in your inbox for an email from me requesting all yoru snail-mail deets.  

And thank you everyone, for your absolutely lovely, warm thoughts and sentiments.  Here's hoping that we can all celebrate the beauty of the world together for another 10 years!

Song:  Thank you (falettinme be mice elf agin) by Sly and the Family Stone

katherine

Yesterday I had lunch with my dear friend, Katherine Center.  Katherine is an incredibly prolific author (you can see all of her books here), and spending time with her is exactly like you'd imagine spending time with a writer would be:  she always has these wonderfully entertaining stories, and her language is descriptive and vivid.  She invariably says something that makes me think for days afterwards.  In other words, it's always such a joy to spend time with her.

Katherine is one of those friends who I only see a couple of times a year, but whenever we make plans to see each other, we always set aside several hours so that we can catch up properly.  Sometimes on these occasions, I talk Katherine into letting me take photos of her to use as author photos, if she likes any well enough.

Yesterday was one of those days -- we had a 2-hour lunch, but before that, I spent an hour taking photographs of Katherine.  Although portraiture is my favourite type of photography, it had been a long time since I'd had someone sit in front of my camera, so it was a true joy that it was Kath's beautiful, expressive face I got to photograph.

---

"You can't have everything all at once.  That's what memories are for."

~  Katherine Center

Song:  Shake it by Michael Franti