the golden hour

In the golden hour

everything becomes beautiful.

Even...

no... most especially, the baler.

cold moon

When I left the studio last night, the full moon was rising. The frigid ten degrees and still air hung my breath in a solid cloud before me. It has to be the Cold Moon, I thought. I grabbed my camera and began shooting. The exposures seemed longer than life itself, and I fought to catch the moments between breaths, shivers, and heartbeats. It became a true out-of-body experience. I passed those little eternities wondering why I was there without a coat, yet warm nonetheless. I knew there had to be a reason beyond the moon's obvious beauty. 

Happy birthday, Loriann!    

more stuff

These were willed to me by a best friend. She was a painter and a legendary multi-media artist. She never wore the shoes; she bought them at the Goodwill in San Francisco because she saw them as the beautiful objects they are. Indeed they are.

A perfect size 7.  Silk.  Couture.  Hmmm... just imagine what their story might be.

blizzard antidote

It's snowing at a rate of 2 inches an hour and blowing so hard, I can't see the fence 75 feet away. As of yesterday, we hadn't had a drop of anything in over 6 weeks. Nothing but winds over 70 mph and spot wildfires. Ah, yes... Springtime in the Rockies. So Mother Nature is celebrating with her typical attack of whimsy, blessing us with more than a foot of snow. It could be worse; this could be Fargo, where the Red River is flooding at historic proportions and it's blizzarding.

Happily, I don't have to go anywhere today except my studio, which is buried somewhere out there in the whiteout. However, to get out there I have to shovel-grunt-push a path in the snow. Maybe watching me struggle into my down jacket, boots, hat, scarf and mittens will amuse the dog enough to get him out of his bed and into the storm. By then, the snow will be deeper than his legs are long; no doubt he'll need a snorkle and doggles.

To soothe the shivering, chapping and cussing, I've posted this picture of another world where storms are beautiful in a very, very different way. It helps just knowing it's out there somewhere.