We've been seriously under the weather this week, but when we're up and at 'em, the donut diner is a favorite weekend destination.
A few words about Books of Wonder: this place will always be dear to me, ever since the celebration they held for Madeleine L'Engle shortly after I moved to New York. That was a seminal experience that I will never forget. Just going there can make me teary, and seeing collectable editions of her books in the glass cupboard sends me over the edge. All I could think on this trip was, maybe I could have my birthday party at the Cupcake Cafe, and would any of my friends come?
And a couple things about my panoramic camera: the Horizon doesn't have a flash. It doesn't focus. It's fully manual, and I don't digitally enhance my scans of the negatives. I don't use a light meter (I'm just working on memorizing relevant parts of these charts). I've only had it a few months, and I'm just blissed out with the images I'm getting, even as a super beginner. These images (and many I've posted lately) were cross-processed, meaning they were taken on slide film and then processed in print negative chemicals, which can create cool color shifts, vibrancy, and other surprises. Every time I go to the Lomography Gallery Store here in New York I fall more and more in love with the analogue photography world and Lomography's rockin' staff.
Yesterday I saw the Horizon album, and was inspired to order my first prints. I can't wait to get them and to show them to all my pals, including Jason at Duane Reade, who happily caters to all my wacky processing requests. We might have to celebrate. With cupcakes.
When my friend, Gin, came through town a couple weeks ago, all she wanted to do was to find the waffle truck. It was the perfect kind of adventure--simple, yet laced with just the right amount of mystery and anticipation. And what better way to track down an infamous waffle, I thought, than to walk the Brooklyn Bridge to get there? This is still one of my favorite things to do in New York. We talked the whole way across, and I could feel what Kate means when she says that just doing regular things against the backdrop of this city gives your life a cinematic feeling.
The physical imagery is so helpful, like an alternate version of, say, walking a labyrinth. Walking the bridge, and even looking back at the pictures later, can really show you a lot about crossing over.
There's the way a journey can look in the beginning--vast, inviting or daunting.
It can feel larger than life. It can make you feel small. Or, you might not believe your good fortune as it invites you in, like the magical chalk drawings the children lept into with Mary Poppins. Whether you jump in with both feet or tread cautiously ahead, you are on your way.
Sometimes, you look left.
And then you look right. To get your bearings, to enjoy the view.
You remind yourself that this bridge is old, in a good way. That it has delivered perhaps millions of people safely across without failing. The motion is normal, you tell yourself. And you try not to clench the railing too hard.
At some point, you find yourself somewhere out there: in the middle.
With neither shore in close reach, and only water below.
The worst are those times that feel like being in the middle in a great fog--times in which you can't see where you are heading. There is just a path beneath your feet. To keep going, you have to trust that the path is there for a reason and that it leads somewhere good.
The further I go, the less I get to see and the more I am asked to trust. In the middle, I do not appreciate this quality of crossing over as perhaps I will from the other side.
After you pass center, the path slopes downward. The end of this journey, the beginning of the next, is near. You can see your destination with more clarity and in greater detail than before.
I wish I could write about arrivals or destinations, but I'm not there yet.
I'm still somewhere swinging over the water in a fog, dreaming of what surprises, adventures and delicious Belgian treats await me on the other side.
I'm an early riser, and this was my view from the rocking chair on the porch while my cabinmates were still deep in their slumber.
This was our cabin.
Morning on the dock.
This cozy cabin living room is where my classes were held, complete with sofas and old-fashioned rocking chairs. A couple mornings it was even cool enough to light the fire.
Some of my students went out to the dock to do their exercises. Doesn't it look dreamy?
Here are a few Diana Instants:
Saturday afternoon we took a trip to the nearby town of Center Sandwich, NH.
With my new friends, Gin and Arrabella.
The yellow butterfly in the center of this pic was always flying around just outside our front door.
Meg's rocking the pink hair and her new tattoo.
Meg with our cabinmate, the amazing Cal Patch, and our beloved Mackenzie.
I still have a few more pics at the lab right now, if you can believe it. Somehow seeing all the photographs has helped me with the transition back home. It's like looking at them helps me believe That Really Happened and wasn't just the best of dreams.
This week I'm playing with the new Diana F+ lens adaptor for Canon SLRs (there's one for Nikon, too). I'm hoping to have a full-blown review up soon. In the meantime, here a few of my pictures from this experiment.
I'm happy to announce that Take Me with You: A Journal for the Journey will now be available for sale at Scaredy Kat, one of my favorite gift boutiques in Brooklyn. They recently moved to a larger space, but they're still on Fifth Avenue in Park Slope.
Since I was just trying to casually snap a few pics yesterday, and I'm still experimenting with this camera and lens set-up, it's hard to feel like these photos do the place justice. But it's bright and roomy, and it's the first place I go when I'm looking for that just right thing for myself or someone I love.
Their selection is edited so well that you don't have to sort through, dig under or look past anything that isn't exquisite and original. I'm so pleased to have my journal featured as part of their collection.
The best part of all is that Scaredy Kat also sells Mati Rose's magnets (this photo is pretty dreamy, but perhaps you can make them out there on the second shelf).
That's what I call being in good company.