a happy story

a book shop unphotographable

Unphotographables are moments from life that my camera couldn't capture. SOOJ means straight out of the journal.  This post is both.

Last Saturday I spent a little time at Barnes and Nobel.  As I sat down at the only available table in the cafe, I cringed because it placed me only inches away from a couple.  The thing is, in a bookstore cafe, if you want peace and quiet, you sit beside an individual.  Couples chat.  Groups laugh.  Individuals read.  I read and write, and I didn't want to hear any chat.

Phooey!  They were chatting.  Often.  My headphones and favorite playlist couldn't quite drown them out.  I couldn't help but listen.  A couple in their mid-thirties was very seriously, and with great care, choosing a name for their baby boy.  They discussed Dallas, and Emmett, and Benjamin.  With a chuckle, he mentioned all manner of odd names which he discovered in the five inch thick baby names book on the table between them.  Finally, they returned to the first name they had both loved.

"Clayton it is."  Welcome to our wonderful world, little Clayton.  Be well.  

Christmas Comes

If you are unfamiliar with SOOJ, what I mean is "straight out of the journal." From time to time I post, unedited, something that I wrote in the journal I carry with me everywhere. This is one such post.

Sunday, November 14, 2010
Ozark, MO

There comes a moment every holiday season when Christmas enters my heart. A moment when Christmas arrives. Some years, it doesn't arrive until as late as Christmas Eve. This year, it arrived before Thanksgiving. I sat and cried and cried as a as a "Give This Christmas Away" played and the aisle at church filled with people. The huge pile of nearly 300 Operation Christmas Child boxes grew and grew and grew as children and adults poured into the aisles to come and lay their gifts on the alter. I wish I could photograph the enormous pile of shoes boxes packed full to bursting with gifts for children around the world. I'm still crying 10 minutes later. I can't seem to stop. I am so moved to be a part of this. Christmas is unselfish giving. Christmas is love for family and love for strangers. Christmas is here. God bless us, every one.

Classroom Unphotographable

Monday, September 27, 2010
Lawsonland

I have a noisy class this year. Just a loud, wonderful, rambunctious pack of puppies.

For six weeks,
I have struggled to get them all to pay attention to the same thing at the same time.
Getting them really quiet and focused has been nearly impossible.

Until today. Until the magic.

Each fall we get caterpillars watch them go through metamorphosis.
The butterflies always come out over the weekend, in the quiet.

Not yesterday. Not quite.

Three had already emerged when, first thing in the morning, one child said, "Look! It's coming out!" The whole class gathered round. All silent. All in complete awe.

And we watched. And we watched. For twenty minutes.
In silence. We watched.

And we saw a miracle.

A beautiful butterfly. From a tiny, tissue thin chrysalis. Right there, in front of their eyes.

And I witnessed another miracle.
Nineteen pairs of eyes, fastened. Nineteen mouths, closed. Thirty eight hands, stilled.
Caught in the pure wonder of God's creation.

Maybe I just needed a little magic all along.

It's not too late. Please consider joining us for the Autumn Celebration Swap.

Oregon Unphotographable

I went to a funeral today. Jeffrey's uncle died early in the morning after we celebrated my in-laws 50th wedding anniversary. Our trip to Oregon didn't go as planned, but what a blessing to be present and available just when family needed us. There were many unphotographable moments today. Here's just one:

funeral of Robert William Brown

Eugene, Oregon

Today we met the woman who taught Uncle Robert to read. I'm sure that doesn't sound all that remarkable. Many teachers sadly attend the funeral of a student.

No. Not all that remarkable.

Until you know that she is well past 70.

And he was an adult when he learned.

Here was a man who worked at the same company for 45 years.

Who married and loved the same woman for 44 years.

Who fathered three boys.

Who buried a son and grandson.

And he couldn't read.

He managed all the chores of life and the rigors of his job.

All without being able to read.

Imagine that.

Really.

Think of it.

One day, he decided that he wanted to read the Bible for himself.

So he went to his work and asked for help.

Told them he wanted to learn to read.

Now picture the woman, this lovely lady we met today.

She was already old; already retired. But, she said yes.

She wanted him to learn to read.

And so she spent hours teaching him.

Making difficult things clear.

Watching him, an adult, a father, learn to read.

And so she came to his funeral today.

To say goodbye, and

I hope, to reflect on a job well done.

Imagine that.

Really.

Think of it.

And I have to ask ...

What are you going to do with your one wild and remarkable life?

Imagine that.

Really.

Think of it.

an Ozarks Unphotographable

SOOJ means straight out of the journal. Unphotographables are moments from life that my camera couldn't capture. This post is both.

Friday night, May 14, 2010
screening of Winter's Bone

An old woman standing on a stage,
in old jeans and red gardening clogs.
There she stands - feet splayed,
hands thrust into pockets,
looking like nothing special;
like someone's great aunt.

And then she opens her mouth,
and she sounds like nothing less
than a whiskey voiced angel.

And I am reminded again
that angels come in a variety of guises and
beauty can not only be measured with your eyes.
In fact, your eyes are likely
the least reliable measurement of beauty.

Christmas Unphotographable

I saw something today that seemed to me to be a peek into heaven. Today was the Christmas pageant at church.

A placid, sweet-faced donkey named Bentley patiently carried a young Mary on his back.
You had to grin when you noticed Mary's gym socks peeking out below her hem.

A small choir of baby angels in white satin dresses, gold tinsel halos, and feathered wings;
all so excited, so beautiful.

A crowd of rowdy shepherds herding their single sheep; named Doug.
You had to grin when you noticed Doug nibbling on the toes of nearby little girl.

A choir of adults singing carols to tell the Christmas story.
You had to grin when the young guitar player and drummer began to rock Joy to the World.


And then the shepherds moved to the manger, in front of the angel choir.
Hmmm...
Tough to see around those big boys.
One little angel couldn't see at all. And that just wouldn't do.

So she stood on her tippy-tippy toes,
propped herself on two sets of shoulders and peeked around.
No way was she going to miss seeing what was in that manger.


And it hit me.
That's exactly what the angels did in heaven that night so long ago.
They were so excited they just couldn't wait to see for themselves.
They just had to sing about it.

They filled the very heavens with their song.
Picture that.

A multitude of the heavenly hosts.
Filling the sky.
Proclaiming

Glory to God in the highest.
And on Earth peace, good will toward men.

Small Delights

Oh, I have so much to tell you!

I have to tell you about the way that YoYo Ma swayed toward the music like a sunflower toward the sun. About sea lions that teach themselves to smile. About little girls who laugh delightedly and dream of growing up to be marine biologists. About little boys who have a goal to write a story that everyone will love. About the way that I always walk down the school's halls with two second graders attached to my sides by the hands they hold and the love they feel. About how badly penguins actually smell, and the black giraffe I didn't know could exist. About the chimpanzee who held his own feet as he slept, and all the beds we jumped on this weekend. About music that was so marvelous, so MAN ALIVE, that all I did was cry. And cry.

Oh, I have so much to tell you!

But, until then. A little story that I told my friend, Pixiedust.


Your bird made me think of the most amazing sight I saw this weekend. We were at a red light and I looked up. The power lines were covered in birds. I mean COVERED! Not hundreds. Thousands. I mean that without one bit of exaggeration. That was cool enough in itself. But then. One bird flew in and snuggled himself down among his buddies. And all down the line, literally thousands of birds flew up one by one and settled again just a tiny space to the right. It was like watching piano keys that whoosh off the piano in a cartoon. It was amazing.

Those birds have it right. It may take a little bit of readjusting, but there's always room for one more.


Both images were taken this weekend. This wonderful, wonderful weekend.

Another Unphotographable

In case you are new to this space, SOOJ means straight out of the journal. Unphotographable is s what I call the moments I try to capture with paper and pen when the camera fails me. Want to play along?

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Another unphotographable moment:

Richard Avedon exhibit - SF MOMA

Three pretty girls, probably late teens, very casually dressed in jeans and t-shirts. All of them standing in slack-jawed wonder gazing at Avedon's portrait of Marilyn Monroe. After a few silent seconds, they all reach into their pockets and pull out cameras and cell phones. Trying to capture a little bit of Marilyn for their own lives, a little bit of her incredible glamour.

They don't know yet that they have a beauty all their own.

Photograph by Richard Avedon. I wish you could see it as I did. Huge - like eight feet by eight feet. Huge.

Unphotographable

I had so much to write about while I was in San Francisco that I ended up needing to buy a new journal. I know, what a hardship. The people-watching was excellent, and you know how much I love to people watch. One of the things I did while I enjoyed the city was write a collection of unphotographable moments. Like this one:

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Another Unphotographable:

Riding the N Judah - by 23rd Avenue

We just passed a big football-player-in-college looking guy sitting outside on a little bitty balcony. He was wearing a sweatshirt, shoulders hunched against the cold, drinking steaming coffee out of a mug. The balcony was only big enough for him, a tiny chair, and a minuscule table. The difference in scale should have been amusing, but he was so obviously enjoying his mini kingdom. Instead, he reminded me of Babar; somehow dignified and smile-inducing in his undersized chair and balcony.

Babar rare image found here. Wonderful books about his adventures found in a bookstore near you.

Kansas City Views

At first, as I thought about creating this post, I was a little bummed. I had hoped to be able to show you pictures like these and these. Here I sat, feeling slightly self-critical. Hearing echoes in my brain of You're no photographer!

HA! I shouted. Maybe not. But, I will be. I will be.

This is a start. My start.

shopping at Stuff in Brookside


Urban Arts + Crafts in Briarcliff Village


the most wonderful children's shop ever


an old-fashioned horsey ride at Reading Reptile


heaven on a fork, found here

textures and shadows

the view - red lanterns, the sound - live swing band, the people-watching - terrific

I just love public art!

I took twenty shots of this fountain. Here's my favorite. I just love that face.

for an artist, any canvas will do

loving on Coco

participating in a community painting

Sloane's contribution

"Momma, look! Now I'm an artist. See. I've got a tattoo that says so."

yes, that is a Mercedes Gull Wing

maybe it was cold that day

Well, you've seen my pictures. Here's my story. The moment was unphotographable.

The sun had set and we were headed back to the car. There was a very talented band playing. The lead singer's voice was sweet and smooth. The kind that makes you want to grab your man, curl up on the sofa, and kiss for an hour. Near the stage was an impromptu dance floor and we stopped for more people watching. We saw the usual gathering of people street dancing: mothers with toddlers, drunk women having a little fun, a small group line dancing and having a great time, and three real dancers. You know the ones I mean. The dancers who are so comfortable in their own skin that they move like water in a stream. The women are so beautiful and they couldn't care less. They are too busy dancing. The man knows they are beautiful, but cares more that they can really move. Makes your own heart swell to watch them.

When a new song began, the man asked one of the women to dance. She accepted, but made a "Save me quick!" face at her friend over his shoulder as she moved into his arms. And then he spun her. Two or three turns and he had her.

I just love it when the underdog wins.






I took all the pictures last weekend in Kansas City.