January 14, 2020

Softie but a Goodie

Third time momma to be captured at 28 weeks on a crisp day in early October.
Mother / daughter.
Chad with his young / Kelsey and young Amelie stroll through the bluff. Rosenort, MB; October 2019.
Uncle Mike reads a new book to Benny after bath time. Winnipeg, MB; November 2019.
Crystal and Rusty ham it up in their back lane. Winnipeg, MB; November 2019.
Dad & son / Son & mom in the sun. Winnipeg, MB; November 2019.
Benny / Lue. Winnipeg, MB; December 2019.
Sophie's portrait at the Forks / Sophie & Will. Winnipeg, MB; December 2019.
Sophie, Will & Benny at the Forks / softie but a goodie. Winnipeg, MB; December 2019.

Diptych review caught at the tail end of the year. I loaded the half frame camera in early October and processed it the first week of December. A 36 exposure roll of FP4+ took what felt like lightyears to fill (72 frames). Fun to slow it down and completely forget what I shot. Need to start carrying a tape measure by the looks of my soft focus. Too shallow, too deep. Find the depth, Madge.

Yashica 72-E / FP4+ processed as 400

January 7, 2020


'Backward Bill' by Shel Silverstein, a genius. 


In late November--around six weeks into my second pregnancy--I had a vivid dream where I was standing in a lush meadow alongside Iain and our dear friend Grant--a real life horse whisperer. We were conversing casually, surrounded by green on a bonny day. Suddenly the air became charged by a powerful sound of many hooves thundering toward us. I couldn't help myself; my body suddenly taught as the strings on a bow, determined to ride no matter the cost. Determined to be one with one of those flying beasts. I readied myself for a mighty leap and then grabbed hold of a magnificent chestnut stallion as it came flying past and then slid with relief and pride into the familiar position against the horse's withers.

At that point in the dream Iain was furious with me for riding in my 'delicate condition' but I hooted and hollered at him from across the bluff to stuff it. I had a horse who knew their own agenda. We were flying through a meadow together when suddenly the giant horse began to gallop backwards. It was a magnificent feeling. Shocking redirection. Terrifying, but magnificent in its wildness. I instinctively began to clamp my thighs down in fear when the horse conveyed a message to me telepathically.

He simply said, "My name is Laurence and this ain't my first rodeo". In other words, LEAN INTO IT, BABY. Well then. There was nothing left to do but enjoy the ride!

I woke up with a large grin plastered to my sleep-creased face. Nothing better than a good gallop with an old friend.

We lost our little baby a few weeks later. As I processed the loss of that spirit babe in my own way and time, I couldn't help but circle back to that wild dream and smile. Not his first rodeo, no. Surely not his last either.

While perusing the stacks for a beautiful piece of writing to share in this worn old space in an effort to get back into the saddle of writing, my eye caught on this gem by Shel Silverstein from his "A Light in the Attic" poetry collection and cracked me right up as if I were in Grade Five all over again.

Walk on, dear Laurence. I heartily look forward to leaning into your incredible strength and power again someday, even if it's just in my dreams.